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LIFE

When a janitor was Shortridge High School's hero

So well-known and well-liked was Biddy that when he got sick, in May, 1906, it was news. "He is suffering from liver and heart trouble," the newspaper reported gloomily, "and recovery is doubtful."

Will Higgins
IndyStar
Shortridge High School Principal Shane O'Day stands with a century-old bronze plaque of James Biddy, a custodian in the original school Downtown.

The plaque had been missing for decades.

Commissioned in 1916 by Shortridge High School, the 2-by-3-foot bronze tablet memorialized one of the school's most storied people, a man whose dedication to teachers, students and staff earned him praise, admiration and, when he fell very ill, newspaper stories and a guaranteed salary for life.

The man was not a teacher, though, or a coach or a generous alumnus.

He was a janitor.

Such reverence for a laborer astonished Doc Keys, an Indianapolis salvage dealer whose simple act last summer would set in motion a sequence of events that may help galvanize the north-side school as it works to revive not just its academics but its spirit as well.

"This guy," Keys said in an Instagram post intended to drum up buyer interest in the plaque, "must have been one hell of a #custodian."

He certainly was.

Salary for life

Founded in 1853, Shortridge was Indianapolis' first high school and by many accounts was once the city's best. The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis notes the school pioneered the concept of student government and published the nation's first daily student newspaper. Among the staffers of the Daily Echo were Kurt Vonnegut and Dan Wakefield, who would become famous writers; Richard Lugar, Indiana's longtime U.S. senator; and Andrew Jacobs, Indiana's longtime congressman.

James M. Biddy began working as the Shortridge janitor in 1881. A father of eight, he cut an unusually wide swath at the school. He was beloved by students and teachers for his friendliness and respected for his conscientiousness and competence. On cold nights, Biddy sometimes camped out at the school in order to keep the furnace stoked so that the building would be comfortable in the morning.

So well-known and well-liked was Biddy that when he got sick in May 1906, it was news.  "He is suffering from liver and heart trouble," the Indianapolis Morning Star reported, "and his recovery is doubtful."

During his illness the Indianapolis school board voted to pay him his full salary for life, regardless of whether he ever returned to work. And if anyone objected, school board Vice President Charles W. Moores vowed to "gladly pay it all myself," the newspaper, the predecessor of The Indianapolis Star, reported. The other board members said they would chip in, too.

In December Biddy rallied, but Father Time caught up with him less than a year later. Biddy died April 11, 1907, at 73.

"He probably had as many friends as any one living in the city," the Star declared in a lengthy, top-of-the page obituary.​

His funeral was held in Shortridge's auditorium, where, mourners recounted, Biddy one afternoon years earlier walked into glee club practice and asked the boys to sing him “Onward, Christian Soldiers.” Biddy, an audience of one, sat in the back and listened. He was "deeply affected," the Star reported. At the funeral, with the body of Biddy stretched out in a casket, that story was the lead-in to the glee club performing the hymn again. The rendition brought out "tears in many of those assembled."

April 11, 1907 Indianapolis Star

Nine years later, as Shortridge officials mulled how to mark the state's 1916 centennial, they thought of the janitor. They commissioned the plaque, which depicts his likeness as he appeared in his later years — long beard, spectacles, slouch hat, kindly expression.

His image is sandwiched between two inscriptions: "Seest thou a man diligent in his business he shall stand before kings" and "He dignified labor for he knew no master but duty Had no comrade but truth Desired no approval but self respect."

A janitor on a plaque "would never happen today," said Bruce Copeland, who as a longtime staffer with Indianapolis Public Schools' facilities management department takes care of Shortridge's building. "Today people don't appreciate what it takes to keep a building like this operational."

13 Apr 1907, Page 16 - at Newspapers.com

'It's a lot of bronze'

The salvage dealer's Instagram post grabbed the attention of Sharon Butsch Freeland, a Shortridge alumnus (Class of 1965) and frequent contributor to HistoricIndianapolis.com. Butsch Freeland suggested Doc's Architectural Salvage and Reclamation Services donate the Biddy plaque to Shortridge, which Doc's did.

How the plaque disappeared from Shortridge, or when, is unclear. It was still there in 1967, when an Indianapolis Star story about the plaques of Shortridge High noted that the Biddy plaque hung outside Room 204.

Doc's Salvage got hold of it "five or six years ago," said Bill Dorton, a veteran Doc's employee. The city was remodeling a vacant building at the corner of Alabama and Ohio streets that once housed the Indiana State Museum. "They called Doc to say there's some old stuff here," Dorton said. The plaque "was in a room upstairs up by the big dome window in a closet, hidden away. I thought it was cool. It was heavy. It's a lot of bronze."

Dorton said the salvage company bought the plaque "for a song." But customers must not have thought it was cool because it just sat there amid the store's inventory until that simple Instagram post caught the eye of Butsch Freeland.

The plaque makes its return to Shortridge exactly 100 years after it was commissioned.

Rekindling prestige

Shortridge's principal, Shane O'Day, sees an opportunity.

The school, 3401 N. Meridian St., near East 34th Street, has struggled in recent years. Indiana's Department of Education gives it a "C."  But earlier this year Indianapolis Public Schools tapped it to host the system's International Baccalaureate program, which fosters high standards for teaching and student achievement. Once again there are high expectations for Shortridge, and O'Day thinks the school's history could be helpful in meeting them.

"Shortridge's greatness," he said, "needs revisiting," not just for posterity but for the current students. A sense of past prestige could bring about more energy and a better learning environment at a time when "public education does not get respect," he said.

He is considering converting an empty classroom into a small museum, a repository of Shortridge memorabilia. The Biddy plaque would be a cornerstone of the collection.

Other high schools in the city have similar museums, most notably Crispus Attucks Medical Magnet High School. The once all-black school has a space devoted to local black history as well as the school's history. Washington High School has a smaller version of a museum, as does the Indiana School for the Deaf, Manual High School and Tech High School.

These collections feature letter sweaters and class rings, but some items are more telling. At Attucks is a symphony score written by longtime music teacher Norman Merrifield. In a glass case at Tech is a wooden paddle identified as "The Bear" that was wielded by Fred Kelly, the school's dean of students from 1969 to 2011.

And coming soon at Shortridge will be an homage to a kindly, thoughtful man who was one hell of a custodian.

Call IndyStar reporter at (317) 444-6043. Follow him on Twitter @WillRHiggins