Miss Indiana
The burning of Miss Indiana was first reported in 1938 in the Purdue Exponent and later in the 1938 Purdue Debris. The rivalry between the schools was well underway by that time.
From the November 18, 1938 Exponent:
The Reamers, Gimlets, and Skull and Crescent and the Purdue Band along with 4,000 fans carried out the last rites and ceremonies for "Missing" Indiana. Starting in front of the Union the Purdue Band led the enthusiastic students in singing "For the Honor of Old Purdue." Then headed up Grant street to Stuart Field and the gigantic bonfire laid for "Miss Indiana's" funeral. Indiana's requiem might be more appropriately described as burning at the stake; her huge pyre, topped by a Bloomington "city limits' sign, was gleefully lighted by the attending pallbearers.
Keynoted by Mal Elward's "Our faculty, our student body, our coaching staff, and our great football team doesn't have to be afraid of a damn thing that Indiana has," in reply to Coach Bo Millin's statement that Purdue was afraid of Indiana's passing attach, the cheering student's roared approval of senior Jim Maloney's and Exponent Sports Editor Bob McDonald's short talks.
History proved that Purdue did not have to fear the Hoosiers: Purdue won the 1938 game 13 to 6.
The tradition continued with Miss Indiana lying in state in the Purdue Memorial Union.
Other memorable images are:
In the mid 1960s the tradition died out.
"Ole Jawn Purdue"
The most enduring and well organized IU student activity associated with the Bucket game involved the burial or destruction of a football dummy named Jawn Purdue. The tradition of burying or destroying the papier-mâché effigy of Jawn Purdue was started in 1930 by Blue Key, an honorary society for IU upperclassmen, and was discontinued in 1974.
A 1979 article appearing in the Indiana Daily Student provides some history on the origins and life of Jawn Purdue.
"Jawn Purdue began his illustrious career in the minds of Blue Key members. A despicable character who has been jeered at and maimed for decades by Hoosier students, he was born in the small northern Indiana town of Chauncey. He worked his way through school by cleaning out the stalls of farms near his home. Despite his efforts, Jawn flunked out of kindergarten at age 20.
Using skills he had acquired, Jawn founded a college to teach others the dirty work of cleaning stalls. He named the institution after himself, of course, and joined the board of directors, along with six cows, two bulls, and more than a dozen chickens."
In his paper entitled "The Traditions of Indiana University," Marvin Shamon describes a typical Jawn Purdue burial ceremony.
"At this most extraordinary yell meet, the custom of burying a football dummy call Old Jawn Purdue is carried out. Old Jawn lies in state for a full day, attired in football togs and looking very sad indeed. Then that night, he is 'gently' put to rest after a torch parade and some pretty fancy cheering has taken place. Inevitably, there is always a wordy oration made by a 'man educated in the gospel' who rehashes the infamous life of this barbarian from up North a ways. After this son of P.U. has been committed to the earth, that he, as a farmer, loved so well, there are more yells and everyone goes home confident of victory. Oh yes, as is entirely fitting, the Indiana football squad acts as pallbearers at the burial."
However, Jawn was not always buried. For example in 1948, Jawn was hanged from a Union scaffold, and later "roasted" on Woodlawn Field. In 1958 Jawn was "sentenced to mastication by I.U.'s bulldog mascot."
In an article appearing in the Indiana Daily Student on November 19, 1937, the reporter provides a more detailed account of that year's event.
"JAWN RIVETED DOWN"
3,000 Cheer as Fugitive from Purdue Gang Is Laid to Rest-Speakers Warn Against Overconfidence by Crimson Fans
Ole Jawn Purdue lies a molding in the grave.
Never will he rise again the imbecilic knave.
To the mournful strains of 'Hail Hail the Gang's All Here' the odoriferous remains of Ole Jawn ceremoniously were interred last night beneath the end? Of the University speedball court, as a record crowd of more than 3,000 Crimson backers look on.
While the Rev. Henry (Hank) Biedinger , '39 uttered a fervent prayer that "God reset his sinful soul," members of the Blue Key, serving as pallbearers, laid his fast decaying carcass, appropriately enclosed in a long black coffin, securely away, thus burying all hopes of the victory starved Boilermaker football team in Saturday's classic encounter.
Proceeding the solemn rites, a mammoth parade would its weeping way from the Phi Delta Theta fraternity house around the Quadrangle finally reaching the sacred burial ground. Led by the screaming siren of a Bloomington fire truck, an endless stream of cars moved slowly toward the corner of Eighth Street and Sluss Avenue. In the middle of the procession, a flower bedecked funeral car carried the remains of the unholy deceased.
'Earth to earth, ashes to ashes and Purdue to perdition,' sermonized the Rev. Biedinger. 'It is better that he die now than wander around in damnation. Perhaps he will go to that heavenly paradise where there are mansions for all and a doghouse for Purdue, and where on those Elysian Fields even Purdue may score.'
In addition to the funeral oration, speeches were made by Mayor A. H. Berndt, Assistant Coach Clyde Smith, Ray Fox, PG, Silas Kivett,'38, and Charles Sparrenberger, '38, master of ceremonies. Smith speaking in behalf of Coach A.N. (Bo) McMillin warned Crimson followers not to be overconfident because members of the present Purdue team are hungry for a victory over Indiana.
'Indiana has the greatest football team in the history of the school,' Mayor Berndt shouted to the cheering students. 'Let's not spoil a great season by failing to do our part in showing a real fighting determination to win Saturday.'
A huge bonfire in the center of the field illuminated the entire area, and threw a spirit of warmth and jollification into the assembled students and townspeople."