Indianapolis sometimes has an undeserved reputation as being a Nowheresville, dismissed as Indiana-no-place. Yet it’s everything but. It’s got the world’s largest children’s museum, sports and recreation facilities that rival most big cities, art, theater, fine dining, and more.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go read about that stuff somewhere else. You didn’t purchase this guide looking for culture. You want to know about century-old ghosts and fiberglass monstrosities. You wonder what Jim Jones was doing selling South American monkeys door-to-door to the residents of this fair city. And what happened to the upstanding local citizens who tossed a former American president into a mud puddle? All good questions—read on!
Don’t act so surprised! If Wonder Bread wasn’t invented in Indianapolis, where do you think it might have been? This shockingly white bread was developed at the Taggart Baking Company in 1921. Vice president Elmer Cline came up with the bread’s name after seeing a balloon race at the Indianapolis Speedway; he claimed to be “filled with wonder,” much the same way Wonder Bread seems to be filled with air. Four years later, Taggart and its Wonder Bread were sold to the Continental Baking Company, and it’s been baking the loaves ever since.
If you’re one of those folks who don’t quite understand how every loaf of Wonder Bread can look exactly the same or who think the uniformity is achieved by some sort of nefarious process, you’re invited to take the factory tour. The secret? “It’s Slo-Baked.”
Wonder and Hostess Bakery, 2929 N. Shadeland Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46219
Phone: (866) 245-8921
Hours: Call ahead for tour hours
Cost: Free
Website: www.wonderbread.com
Directions: South of E. 30th St. on Shadeland Ave.
Bread doesn’t get much whiter than this.
Though the truth of its origin is questionable at best, a graffiti scar on a tree in Indianapolis is attributed to Daniel Boone, who was a surveyor in the Northwest Territory around 1800. The carving on the beech’s trunk gives Boone’s name and trademark bear paw insignia. Some historians believe its location, high up the trunk, was probably the result of Boone being on horseback when he carved it. Visitors to Eagle Creek are strongly discouraged from adding their own Boone-like insignias anywhere else in this park. Today it’s called vandalism and can get you in real trouble.
Eagle Creek Park, 7840 W. 56th St., Indianapolis, IN 46254
Phone: (317) 327-7110
Hours: Dawn–dusk
Cost: $5/car ($6 for noncounty residents)
Website: http://eaglecreekpark.org
Directions: Just west of I-465 on 56th St.; the Boone Tree is approximately one block north of the Nature Center.
David Letterman was born in Indianapolis on April 12, 1947. His family lived in the Broad Ripple neighborhood, and his father owned the first FTD Florist in the city. Dave attended Public School 55 (today Eliza A. Blaker School 55, 1349 E. 54th St., (317) 226-4000, www.myips.org/elizablaker55) and seemed to be living the life of typical baby boomer … until he got a job as a bag boy.
Why the Atlas Supermarket was so instrumental in Letterman’s comic development is no mystery; kindhearted owner Sidney Maurer not only tolerated Letterman’s pranks but also would cover for the teenager when customers failed to appreciate the humor. Other bosses might have fired the smart-ass. Letterman held raffles for sports cars that didn’t exist. More than once he announced that a mah-jongg tournament would be held on Sunday, and players showed up with their tiles to find an empty parking lot and a locked store. Other times he conducted fire drills and marched confused customers out into the parking lot.
Letterman attended Broad Ripple High School (1115 Broad Ripple Ave., (317) 693-5700, www.myips.org/brmhs) from 1961 to 1965 where he served as a hall monitor. Marilyn Quayle also attended Broad Ripple but was two years younger than Dave (and remembered not liking him very much).
After college and a short stint at a radio station in Muncie, Dave returned to Indy in 1970 with his wife, Michelle, where he secured a five-year “temporary” job at WLWI-TV (channel 13, now WTHR). His first job was to read the station’s call letters and public service announcements, but he was later given a few shows. He hosted the 2 AM Freeze-Dried Movie, a Saturday morning 4-H show called Clover Power, and the weekend weather. As a meteorologist, he took liberties with the forecasts, making up tropical storms and town names. In 1975 he left for California to become a stand-up comedian.
The Atlas Supermarket was torn down and replaced with an upscale grocery a few years ago.
The Fresh Market, 5415 N. College Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46220
Phone: (317) 259-9270
Hours: Daily 8 AM–9 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.thefreshmarket.com
Directions: Seven blocks east of Meridian (Rte. 31) at 54th St.
According to legend, a basement fire ignited by an overturned lamp in this 1858 mansion killed several escaped slaves, and rather than have this station on the Underground Railroad exposed, the runaway’s bodies were buried secretly beneath the house.
Things haven’t been the same since. Moaning, phantom footsteps, and mysterious scratching noises are as common as the creaky floorboards. There’s also the smell of rotting flesh in the upstairs bedrooms, but that could just be a dead rat in the walls. Some have seen the ghost of a stillborn baby. Far from being still, it tends to run around on the second floor. And when PM Magazine was filming a segment on the hauntings, a chandelier swung unassisted and a picture leapt from its nail on the wall. What more proof do you need?
3801 Madison Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46227
Phone: (317) 787-8486
Hours: Check website; only open for occasional open houses
Cost: Free
Website: http://thehannahmansion.org
Directions: At the southeast corner of National and Madison Aves.
The Indiana Medical History Museum is one of the hidden gems of Indianapolis, tucked away on the grounds of the old Central State Hospital for the Insane. It is housed in the nation’s oldest pathology building, built in 1898 under the direction of Dr. George Edenharter. The facility had three cutting-edge laboratories, a library, a photography studio, an anatomical museum, a morgue, and an amphitheater used for its teaching program. Edenharter’s facility was a leader in the study of syphilis (particularly as it affected the brain), mental illness, and brain injuries.
The current museum has 15,000+ artifacts in its collection, but remarkably few of them are on display. Instead, the building has been restored to the way it looked shortly after it opened a century ago, to give visitors a sense of what it might have looked like. But in one room on the ground floor, dozens of jars filled with brains and parts of brains fill cabinets along two walls. The curators admit this is the room school kids enjoy the most.
Old Pathology Building, 3045 W. Vermont St., Indianapolis, IN 46222
Phone: (317) 635-7329
Hours: Thursday–Saturday 10 AM–4 PM
Cost: Adults $10, Seniors (65+) $9, College students (with valid ID) $5, Kids (under 18) $3 Website: www.imhm.org
Directions: Two blocks south of Michigan St., three blocks east of Tibbs Ave.
Laugh if you will, but Hoosiers are proud of their native sons and daughters: Orville Redenbacher, John Mellencamp, Eli Lilly, Earl Butz … and they’re all here on the Indiana Walk of Legends! Sadly, most are commemorated with signatures in cement, not footprints à la Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, so you can’t see if your shoes match those of the Popcorn King.
The best time to view the Walk of Legends is the off-season, since it’s free to enter the State Fairgrounds when the fair isn’t in progress. You also won’t have to fight the throngs of Earl Butz groupies who attend each year.
State Fairgrounds, 1202 E. 38th St., Indianapolis, IN 46205
Phone: (317) 927-7500
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Website: www.indianastatefair.com
Directions: Enter from Parkway Dr. (Rte. 37) entrance, drive forward past the Coliseum, turn right at the end of the lot; Walk is in front of the buildings at the northwest corner.
Popcorn landmark.
Two Indianapolis buildings look distinctly out of place in this Midwestern city, and both were built by Masons: the Murat Temple and the Scottish Rite Cathedral. And if you think these so-called “secret societies” are shrouded in mystery, you haven’t spoken with the chatty guides at the Scottish Rite Cathedral. Just try to escape without a fistful of literature about their hush-hush organization.
As you’ll learn on the tour, the Gothic Cathedral was built from 1927 to 1929 using the number 33 (the number of Degrees in the Masonic Rite) as a reference: 33 windows, 33 feet between pillars, 33 foot-square tiles between pillars, and so on. You’ll see all the main rooms in the elaborate structure, including the grand hall where the costumed induction ceremonies are performed. Believe it or not, a new member can move through the first 32 Rites on two successive Saturdays.
If you obtain the Mason’s 33rd Rite, you become a Shriner and move down the street to the Murat Temple, headquarters of the Mystic Shrine. This Middle Eastern structure was built in 1910 and contains one of the largest theaters in town. The interior is designed with a King Tut motif, complete with murals, tile work, and stained glass. Its lounge is open to non-Shriners at lunchtime.
The Shriners are much more formal than the Scots, who don’t wear fezzes or drive around in tiny cars. They also raise an incredible amount of money for children’s hospitals and volunteer as clowns, which makes it easy to forgive them for the silly, pseudomystical antics.
Murat Temple (Oasis of Indianapolis, Desert of Indiana), 510 N. New Jersey St., Indianapolis, IN 46204
Phone: (317) 635-2433
Hours: Always visible; Lobby, Monday–Friday 8:30 AM–4:30 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.muratshrine.org
Directions: At the intersection of Massachusetts Ave. and New Jersey St.
Scottish Rite Cathedral, 650 N. Meridian St., Indianapolis, IN 46204
Phone: (800) 489-3579 or (317) 262-3100
Hours: Always visible; Tours, Tuesday–Friday & third Saturday of month 10 AM–2 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.aasr-indy.org/scottish-rite/tour-cathedral
Directions: At North St. on Rte. 31 (Meridian St.), four blocks west of the Murat Temple.
Imagine being the insurance broker trying to draw up a quote for this unique, singular-subject museum. “Lemme see … 700 different historic fire extinguishers … housed inside a fire safety business … how about we pay you?”
This museum is the collection of Randy Koorsen, owner of Koorsen Fire and Security. As you’ll see from the collection, Koorsen’s industry has a long and varied history dating back to 1789. There have been many approaches to dousing flames over the years, including glass grenades—saltwater-filled glass orbs—which acted as reverse Molotov cocktails that you would throw at flames to kill them. The museum also has Antifyre Pistols, smoke helmets, sprinklers, hoses, and chemical-filled canisters.
When you visit, please obey the NO SMOKING signs. Or else.
Koorsen Fire and Security, 2719 N. Arlington Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46218
Phone: (317) 252-0654
Hours: Monday–Friday 8 AM–4 PM, by appointment only
Cost: Free
Website: https://koorsen.com/about-koorsen/koorsen-museum/
Directions: North of I-70 (no exit) at Arlington Ave.
“Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.” So says the narrator in Kurt Vonnegut’s novel Cat’s Cradle, but it could just as easily be the motto of this book. And though this particular suggestion might not be peculiar, the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library certainly is worth a stop.
Vonnegut was born in Indianapolis on November 11, 1922, the son of a prominent local architect, Kurt Sr., and socialite mother, Edith (Lieber) Vonnegut. He attended Shortridge High School (3401 N. Meridian St., (317) 226-2810, www.myips.org/shs) from which he graduated in 1940. He left for Cornell in the fall, but after the United States entered World War II he enlisted in the army. Captured during the Battle of the Bulge, he ended up a POW in Dresden just before the Allied firebombing of the city in February 1945. What he witnessed would later influence his writing about the horrors of war.
Much of the author’s life is chronicled on a time line mural that wraps around the walls of this small museum. You will also see a re-creation of his personal library and writing space, complete with his rooster reading lamp. You are encouraged to sit down at the desk and type out a message to the late author on a Smith Corona typewriter, just like the one he used. The actual Smith Corona is also here, on display, but under glass. For you struggling writers, you can also gain strength from seeing some of his many rejection letters that he received in his early career. You’re in good company!
340 N. Senate Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46204
Phone: (317) 652-1954
Hours: Monday–Tuesday & Thursday–Friday 11 AM–6 PM, Saturday–Sunday noon–5 PM
Cost: Free; donations welcome
Website: www.vonnegutlibrary.org
Directions: On the southwest corner of the intersection of Vermont St., Indiana Ave., and Senate Ave., two blocks north of the State Capitol Building.
Kids, this is what old people call a “typewriter.”
One of the strange realities of today’s celebrity culture is that you don’t have to be alive to make a pretty decent living. Look at Elvis—dying was a brilliant career move! Of course, when you’re not around you need somebody to look after your affairs, such as the Curtis Management Group. CMG specializes in protecting the legal rights of famous (and usually deceased) clients, including Marilyn Monroe, Michael Jackson, Princess Di, James Dean, Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, and Garfield the Cat.
Because CMG is so closely tied with celebrity estates, it often has access to their personal effects, or knows the people who do. Many stars’ personal items can be seen in the lobby “museum” at the company’s northeast Indianapolis headquarters. Though the artifacts change, on a recent visit you could see a dress worn by Bettie Page, Marilyn Monroe’s wig from The Misfits, Bette Davis’s blue hat and shawl, Hugh Hefner’s pajamas, Liberace’s fur cape, and O. J. Simpson’s golf bag. Who knows what you might find on your visit?
10500 Crosspoint Blvd., Indianapolis, IN 46256
Phone: (317) 570-5000
Hours: Monday–Friday 9 AM–5 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.cmgworldwide.com/about/museum.html
Directions: Off 106th St., just west of Rte. 37.
It is more than a little bizarre that only steps from the Indiana Walk of Legends’ tribute to Orville Redenbacher (see page 189) is the site of the world’s most deadly popcorn-related tragedy. It happened on Halloween night in 1963. Thousands were watching a “Holiday on Ice” show at the State Fairgrounds Arena, unaware of a liquid propane gas leak beneath the grandstands. The gas was used to fuel an industrial popcorn popper in a concession stand and had been accumulating for hours. Finally, a spark from an improperly wired machine ignited the flammable gas. The explosion blew a section of the first-class seats onto the rink and into the cheaper folding chairs on the opposite side of the arena. In all, 73 were killed and 340 more were injured.
Oddly enough, this wasn’t the first time that a crowd perished at the state fairgrounds due to an explosion. On October 1, 1869, the blast from an overheated boiler caused a stampede that left 27 dead fairgoers in its wake.
Indiana Farmers Coliseum, Indiana State Fairgrounds, 1202 E. 38th St., Indianapolis, IN 46205
Phone: (317) 927-7500
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Website: www.indianastatefair.com/coliseum
Directions: Enter from Coliseum Ave. entrance on 38th St.; the Coliseum is ahead on the right.
In retrospect, perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to have Mike Tyson judge the Miss Black America Pageant at the 1991 Black Expo in Indianapolis. Before and during the show he was said to have taken a hands-on approach to the contestants; 11 of the 23 contestant filed a joint $21 million lawsuit against what they labeled a “serial buttocks fondler.”
But his groping troubles were just the start. At 2 AM on July 19, 1991, he invited Miss Rhode Island, 18-year-old Desiree Washington, to his hotel room. Exactly what happened in Suite 606 is up for debate. Tyson claimed Washington wanted revenge after they had consensual sex, and he told her, “The limousine is downstairs. If you don’t want to use the limousine, you can walk.” Washington claimed Tyson raped her.
The jury believed Washington, and Tyson was convicted on one count of rape and two counts of criminal deviant sexual behavior. He was sentenced to six years at the Indiana Youth Center in Plainfield (727 Moon Rd., (317) 839-2513, www.in.gov/idoc/2405.htm). He served about three years and was released on May 9, 1995. While there, he claimed to have read a lot: “When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap. People shouldn’t read that stuff.”
Le Meridian Hotel (formerly the Canterbury Hotel), Suite 606, 123 S. Illinois St., Indianapolis, IN 46225
Phone: (317) 737-1600
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free; Rooms, $239 and up
Website: www.lemeridienindianapolis.com
Directions: One block west of Meridian St. (Rte. 37), two blocks south of Washington St.
As you pull up to Ralph’s Muffler Shop you’ll be greeted by a man in a red polo shirt and white slacks, his right arm upraised in a Black Power salute. He’s not really that radical; he’s more of the silent type and stands guard over this northwest side business. Oh, and he’s 20 feet tall.
Yes, Mr. Bendo is a Muffler Man, a fiberglass giant that first appeared in 1962 outside the PB Cafe in Flagstaff, Arizona. He looked like Paul Bunyan—the PB in PB Cafe—and he was great for business. Soon the International Fiberglass Company of Venice, California, was cranking out these statues for other eateries as well as filling stations, amusement parks, and most popularly, muffler shops, which liked to install a complete exhaust system in its hands (hence the nickname). Oddly enough, Indianapolis’s Mr. Bendo isn’t holding anything. Probably doesn’t want to get his white pants dirty.
The mechanics are regular sized.
Ralph’s Muffler Shop, 1250 W. 16th St., Indianapolis, IN 46202
Phone: (317) 632-9565
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Website: www.ralphsmufflerandbrakesshops.com
Directions: Just east of the intersection of Indiana Ave. and 16th St.
Mr. Bendo isn’t the only monstrous mega-man gracing Indiana’s roadways. In addition to the state’s giant Indians (see page 101), here are a few more:
Big Mac
MacAllister Rentals, 3400 N. Lee Pit Rd., Yorktown, (765) 759-2228, www.macallisterrentals.com
For years Big Mac, a classic muffler man, stood outside Jack Smith’s RV dealership on I-69 outside Yorktown, holding a miniature Winnebago in his outstretched hand. (He also graced the cover of the first edition of this book.) But that business has since closed and been replaced. Big Jack is now Big Mac, for MacAllister Rentals. The small RV in his palm is gone, leaving just a black, rectangular platform that looks like a smartphone. Why should he look any different than everybody else today?
Big Boy
Frisch’s Big Boy, 500 Broadway St., Anderson, (765) 644-1223, www.frischs.com
Most people are familiar with the traditional Big Boy statue, who stands upright in checkered bib overalls, hoisting a burger aloft like a culinary Statue of Liberty. But in Anderson, the Big Boy holds a burger in his outstretched hands, rushing it to a table in a dead sprint. He seems to have forgotten the plate in his enthusiasm.
Uncle Sam, Clean Freak
Ducky’s Express Wash, 1629 Hart St., Vincennes, (812) 304-0265
Uncle Sam wants YOU to wash your car! In fact, he’ll stand over you until you finish the job. The 20-foot statue of the iconic patriot looms over the business’s central island of high-powered vacuums. Some say that if looked at from the side at sunset, his hand looks like an erect penis. Juvenile people would say that, not me … except maybe just this once.
Ice House Man
Ice House Tavern, 1550 Walnut St., New Castle, (765) 529-9990, www.facebook.com/Ice-House-Tavern-157541627420/
Look closely at the pose of the large figure outside New Castle’s Ice House Tavern, and you’ll realize that he’s the same fiberglass model as the Uncle Sam statue in Vincennes. His top hat has been replaced with a golfing cap, and he wears sensible blue slacks instead of red-and-white striped pants, but other than that, they’re brothers.
Ruben’s Restaurant, 2230 Ripley St., Lake Station, (219) 962-3212
Since the late 1950s, a fiberglass statue of a hobo has decorated this googie-style burger stand in Lake Station. In one hand he holds a bunch of balloons and in the other a mean-looking stick, poised to strike any dog that might go for the string of sausages dangling out of his jacket pocket. The statue blew over in a November 2015 storm but has since been restored.
Baloony Burger Man
315 S. Railroad St., Shirley
The attention-getting figure atop this old, closed diner doesn’t hold any balloons but looks like he might have swallowed a few. He’s very round, wears a baker’s hat, and carries a lunch pail (which looks like a dollhouse) in his right hand. He once held a burger in his left hand, but the sandwich is long gone.
Timbers Lounge Lumberjack
Timbers Lounge, 2770 W. Kilgore Ave., Muncie, (765) 282-8461, www.timberslounge.com
The 30-foot lumberjack statue between two trees outside the Timbers Lounge in Muncie is made of fiberglass and carries a large ax, so wisecracks about his mangy facial hair are best kept to yourself. He first appeared outside the Kirby Wood Lumber Company in the 1960s but retired to spend his twilight years at this bar.
Muncie Tin Man
Delbert M. Dawson & Son, 1405 W. Kilgore Ave., Muncie, (765) 284-9711
An oversized tin man guards the entrance to a metal fabrication business on the west side of Muncie. Like its Wizard of Oz prototype, this metallic man appears frozen in a pose, though he does have a smile on his face.
It hovers in a small, dimly lit back room at the Joyful Noise recording studio in Fountain Square: Parliament-Funkadelic’s original Mothership, the centerpiece of this weird minimuseum. Like Spinal Tap’s original Stonehenge, it too is small enough to be crushed by a dwarf. This Baby Mothership was later eclipsed by a larger version that George Clinton would emerge from during his shows.
The museum has other oddball artifacts, too. It has the “Soundtrack to Infinity” on a cassette tape under a bell jar. A golden tin ashtray from the Burger King in Kalamazoo, Michigan, where Elvis was spotted in 1988. The front page from a Roswell newspaper reporting on the 1945 UFO crash. A bone from a black cat, a bottle of Victorian Bed-Bug Killer, and an orange-and-clove pomander to fight off the plague and keep things smelling nice.
What is this collection all about? A nearby sign explains it all: “We live in a world where all things not strange are propped up as a fiction of normalcy. We aim to correct this charade with a new normal—a psychophonic disruption, a shared consciousness built upon outlawed narratives and talismans. It is a temple, a secret mechanical garden, an extraterrestrial portal, a museum of the post-internet age.”
Any questions?
The coolest thing in Indianapolis.
Joyful Noise, 1043 Virginia Ave. #208, Indianapolis, IN 46203
Phone: (317) 632-3220
Hours: Monday–Friday 11 AM–7 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.joyfulnoiserecordings.com
Directions: One block north of Prospect St., one block east of Shelby St.
Jim Jones and his wife Marceline made a big impression on Indianapolis during the 1950s and ’60s. Arriving in the summer of 1951, the couple brought along their pet chimpanzee, very little money, and a burning desire to minister to (and fleece) the poor. Jones started as a student pastor at the south side’s Somerset Methodist Church (S. Keystone Ave.) but didn’t enjoy playing second or third fiddle to anyone.
Jones left Somerset to start his own ministry, Community Unity, and lived in a bungalow on nearby Villa Street. To raise funds to fix the place up, he sold South American monkeys door-to-door at $29 a pop, grossing $50,000. That’s more than 1,700 monkeys! He was also invited to guest minister at the nearby Laurel Street Tabernacle (Fountain Square), where he became well known for healings that included yanking cancerous blobs from (supposedly) sick parishioners. Marceline helped with the act.
The Laurel Street Tabernacle never brought Jones on full-time, so in 1956 Jones headed north to found a new, larger church. He christened it Wings of Deliverance, a name he soon changed to the People’s Temple Full Gospel Church. His message attracted many poor and liberal followers. He set up food and clothing banks, opened soup kitchens, took poor kids to the zoo, and delivered free coal to shut-ins. He also helped to integrate at least one Indianapolis hospital. His message was so successful, Jones moved the congregation a year later to a former synagogue at 10th St. and Delaware (destroyed by fire in 1975) and moved his family’s home to a duplex at 2327 N. Broadway Street.
But Jim had his dark side. When he felt his congregation wasn’t attentive enough, he threw his Bible on the ground, spit on it, and screamed, “Too many people are looking at this and not ME!” He devised an elaborate scheme where People’s Temple members ran local businesses that channeled money back into the church, a plan that would eventually force him to move westward.
In 1961 Jones was appointed director of the Indianapolis Human Rights Commission by the mayor. He used the position to draw more attention to himself, including creditors and IRS investigators. Paranoid that he would soon be found out (and rightly so), he announced in 1965 that the congregation would move to Ukiah, California, to escape the coming Armageddon. According to an article he’d read, Ukiah was naturally protected from radioactive fallout. Jones led a westward-bound caravan of 100 or so faithful in his black Cadillac. He carried with him a $100,000 check but still owed Indiana creditors $40,000.
Go ahead—take a sip!
Community Unity (today abandoned), 720 S. Randolph St., Indianapolis, IN 46203
No phone
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Directions: Six blocks west of S. Keystone Ave., three blocks north of Prospect St.
People’s Temple (today Restoration Baptist Church; no affiliation), 1502 N. New Jersey St., Indianapolis, IN 46202
Phone: (317) 602-7360
Hours: Always visible; Services, Sunday 11 AM; Bible study, Wednesday 12:30 PM and 7 PM
Cost: Free
Website: http://restorationbc.org
Directions: Seven blocks east of Meridian (Rte. 31), one block south of 16th St.
On April 4, 1968, when Sen. Robert Kennedy was running for president, he was preparing for an evening campaign stop in Indianapolis when reports came that Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated in Memphis. When Kennedy arrived at the rally he realized many had not yet heard the tragic news, and it was up to him to tell them that King had died.
Standing in the back of a flatbed truck at the corner of 17th and Broadway, Kennedy made a brief, unprepared speech to the crowd. It was less than five minutes long, yet contained one of his most memorable statements, a plea that today marks his grave at Arlington National Cemetery: “What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence or lawlessness, but love and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice towards those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.” That night, and in the days to follow, riots erupted across America, but not in Indianapolis. Two months later Kennedy would also be felled by an assassin’s bullet.
Kennedy’s speech in Indianapolis is today commemorated in a park at the site of the speech. A sculpture, Landmark for Peace (1995) by Greg Perry, depicts RFK reaching out to MLK over a sidewalk. The metal used to make it is from guns collected by police from amnesty buy-back programs around the city.
Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Park, 1701 N. Broadway St., Indianapolis, IN 46202
Phone: (317) 327-7418
Hours: Dawn–dusk
Cost: Free
Website: http://funfinder.indy.gov/#/details/45
Directions: Just north of 17th St., one block west of College Ave.
If you want to sleep in a train today you have two options: sneak into a rail yard and find an open boxcar, or head to Indianapolis and the Crowne Plaza Hotel. The first is inexpensive, but you run the risk of having your skull split open by a company goon. But there’s no danger of that at the Crowne Plaza. Parked within the city’s old Union Station train shed, 26 nonmoving Pullman cars have been converted into Victorian guest rooms. These cars are sealed off from the rest of the hotel, so the only way to see them up close is to book one for the night.
If they’re out of your price range and you just want to stroll through, the Crowne Plaza’s lobby and hallways are filled with creepy white statues of passengers frozen in time, forever waiting for the train that never arrives. Not unlike Amtrak.
Crowne Plaza Union Station, 123 W. Louisiana St., Indianapolis, IN 46225
Phone: (317) 631-2221
Hours: Always open
Cost: $285 and up
Website: www.downtownindianapolishotel.com
Directions: Just west of Meridian St., four blocks south of Monument Circle.
You can find Suzanne most days at the corner of Alabama Street and Massachusetts Avenue, in a short skirt, swinging her hips to attract the attention of drivers and passersby. Actually, she’s there more than just most days—she’s there every day, 24 hours a day, rain or sun or snow, unless there’s a power outage, because Suzanne isn’t really a person. Artist Julian Opie created her animated image using a four-sided array of computerized lights. Just an outline of a woman with a circle for a head, swaying back and forth, like a 1960s go-go dancer rocking to a beat nobody else hears. Can you dig it?
Alabama St. & Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46204
No phone
Hours: Best after dark
Cost: Free
Directions: On the northeast corner of the intersection.
USS Indianapolis Memorial
In the final days of World War II, the USS Indianapolis delivered a shipment of uranium to Tinian Island in the Pacific. This material would later be used for the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The heavy cruiser was 600 miles west of Guam, heading home, when it was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine on the night of July 29–30, 1945. The ship sank so quickly that other vessels did not know where it had gone down, and because the navy didn’t want to reveal by its actions that it had broken the Japanese Navy’s submarine codes, no rescue party was launched.
No longer lost at sea.
Of the Indianapolis’s 1,197 crew, about 900 made it into the water that night, but only 317 were pulled alive from the water five days later. The survivors were saved only by a chance sighting of their oil slick by a passing aircraft. Most sailors died of injuries or dehydration, but many were eaten by sharks. The character Quint (Robert Shaw) would recount the story in the movie Jaws.
Captain Charles Butler McVay III was court-martialed for failing to zigzag his ship to avoid being torpedoed, though the navy had clearly told him he would encounter no submarines on his journey, a statement they knew to be untrue. McVay was the only commander of the 700 vessels sunk in the war to be court-martialed. Blamed by victims’ families in a constant stream of hate letters, McVay committed suicide in 1968.
But then in 1996, an 11-year-old boy named Hunter Scott began asking questions after seeing Jaws. Remarkably, he uncovered new evidence pointing to the incompetence of navy brass, errors that led to the ship’s sinking. This information led to a Congressional inquiry, which posthumously exonerated McVay. A monument to all the crew now stands in Indianapolis, the city that gave the ship its name. In 2007 the state opened a gallery dedicated to the Indianapolis within the Indiana War Memorial Museum, including a seven-foot replica of the doomed ship. (The War Memorial is interesting in its own right, built to resemble the Tomb of King Mausolus at Halicarnassus, present day Bodrum, Turkey.)
Ellsworth & Walnut Sts., Indianapolis, IN 46202
No phone
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Website: www.in.gov/iwm/2328.htm
Directions: Five blocks south of 10th St., take Walnut St. west seven blocks to Ellsworth St.
USS Indianapolis Museum, Indiana War Memorial, 51 E. Michigan St., Indianapolis, IN 46204
Phone: (317) 232-7615
Hours: Wednesday–Sunday 9 AM–5 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.ussindianapolis.us
Directions: Between Meridian and Pennsylvania Sts., four blocks north of Monument Circle.
Have you ever had one of those ambitious gardening weekends where, by the time the sun went down on Sunday, only about half of your annuals were in the ground? Well, perhaps you weren’t using the right tool. If you used one of those teeny tiny trowels, perhaps that was your problem. You needed something a bit more industrial—like the trowel at Habig’s gardening center.
This T-rex trowel could dig out your entire flower bed with one scoop. Properly mounted on the front of a small tractor, it could also be used by undertakers to plant dead gardeners who want to return to the earth, compost style.
Paul Bunyan’s gardening tool.
5201 N. College Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46220
Phone: (317) 283-5412
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Website: http://habiggardenshop.weebly.com
Directions: Eight blocks east of Meridian St. (Rte. 31) at 52nd St.
Suburbs
Back in 1961, Vierl G. Veal wanted to make an ice slide for his children, so in the freezing cold he pulled out a hose and set it up to spray a hill on his property. But that night a stiff breeze blew the mist onto a nearby honeysuckle bush, and by morning he had an ice-covered shrub instead. Veal liked it, so he decided to make it a regular wintertime feature. More than a half century later, the family keeps the tradition alive.
The Veals have learned a lot over the years and have made improvements to the ever-changing organic sculpture. Each fall they build a skeleton out of lumber—a new shape every year—for the tree to “grow” on. However, they have no idea how each one will turn out—that’s Mother Nature’s job. And rather than waste fresh water, they pump it out of a nearby pond and even add coloring to cover the Ice Tree with brilliant hues of blue and red and violet.
Visitors are asked to view it from a safe distance during daylight hours, but the Veals do illuminate it after sundown until 10 pm. You can see it if you look south from I-74 near Exit 99.
11333 Southeastern Ave., Acton, IN 46259
Private phone
Hours: Winter, daytime
Cost: Free
Website: http://vealsicetree.wix.com/vealsicetree
Directions: Exit Acton Rd. southbound from I-74, then immediately turn east onto Southeastern Ave.
Dad Jones was a worker on the Inter-Urban Railroad project west of Indianapolis when he was tragically entombed in cement after the platform on which he was standing collapsed, plunging him into a concrete grave. Th equick-drying cement below had been poured for a bridge piling. Rather than fish the poor guy out (and slow down the work), his body was left inside, where it remains to this day … or so the story goes.
After trains began running on the line, folks started noticing weird things. When a train crossed the trestle, some could hear the screams of Dad’s ghost, trapped in the foundation, squished by the weight of the passenger cars. After the train passed, he would thump on the cement with his fists until he could pound no more. Other witnesses claim that water condenses on the piling and oozes red, like blood. While particularly visible on the night of a full moon, you can clearly see from the photo below that something’s seeping out in broad daylight.
Urban legend or OSHA violation? Stop on by on a moonlit night and decide for yourself.
Here’s Dad Jones.
White Lick Creek Bridge, Dad Jones Rd., Avon, IN 46123
No phone
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Directions: Turn north off Rte. 40 onto Dad Jones Rd., three blocks west of the Rte. 267 intersection.
Back in 1903 a few local men were drilling for natural gas and instead hit an underground aquifer that burst forth to the surface. Their immediate disappointment soon gave way to excitement when somebody drank the mineral water and discovered it healed one of their maladies. Or all of their maladies—people claimed a sip of this artesian brew cures headaches, sore throats, arthritis, and lumbago, just to name a few. Mind you, this was years before antibiotics and other modern therapies.
That makes it all the more fascinating that today, nine decades after the discovery of penicillin and pain killers, people still swear by it. The spring is protected by a gazebo in a park where you’ll bump into locals filling up jugs of the stuff. Ask how it makes them feel better—it’s essential to the psychosomatic process.
Flowing Well Park, 5100 E. 116th St., Carmel, IN 46033
Phone: (317) 848-7275
Hours: Daylight
Cost: Free
Website: http://carmelclayparks.com/parks/park-features/
Directions: Two blocks east of Gray Rd. on the north side of 116th St.
Dollhouses are more than just elaborate toys for little children; they’re windows to the past, as you’ll see at this small museum filled with even smaller buildings. An antique dollhouse might reflect decorating styles at the time it was built, as well as the sorts of objects found in a typical home, much the same way a pink Barbie Dreamhouse reflects our current plastic lifestyle.
OK, so maybe using dollhouses for historical research is a bit of a stretch, but they’re cool nonetheless. The oldest dollhouse in this museum’s collection has a short message hidden beneath the wallpaper on a back wall, written by Thomas Russell to his young daughter in 1861. Other pieces in the constantly rotating collection could more accurately be called scenes, like a princess running through a forest blanketed in snow, followed by her Prince Charming, past unicorns and trees draped in jewels. You know … history.
111 E. Main St., Carmel, IN 46032
Phone: (317) 575-9466
Hours: Wednesday–Saturday 11 AM–4 PM, Sunday 1–4 PM
Cost: Adults $5, Kids (under 10) $3
Website: www.museumofminiatures.org
Directions: One block east of Rangeline Rd. on Main St. (131st St.).
Local electrician Leslie Haines had a great idea to help auto drivers avoid accidents in Carmel’s main intersection: a stoplight! However, his 1923 invention had one major flaw: it had no yellow. Without a warning that the lights would turn, motorists received an excessive number of tickets for running red lights. Long after it was clear that the well-intentioned device was inadequate, it was removed in 1934.
Today you’ll find a standard, three-color stoplight at the same intersection of Main Street and Rangeline Road, and Haines’s contraption is in the possession of the Carmel-Clay Historical Society, where it can’t hurt anyone.
Interestingly enough, today Carmel is leading a new revolution in traffic technology: the roundabout. There are more than 70 roundabout intersections around town, more than any other city of its size. But out of respect to its place in history, the original traffic light location remains unchanged.
Main St. & Rangeline Rd., Carmel, IN 46032
No phone
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Directions: On 131st St. (Main St.) in the center of town.
Carmel-Clay Historical Society, 211 First St. SW, Carmel, IN 46032
Phone: (317) 846-7117
Hours: Saturday–Sunday 1–4 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.carmelclayhistory.org
Directions: Two blocks west and one block south of the intersection.
Just a couple of blocks from Carmel’s museum of small houses is a museum of small art, or rather, a small museum of smaller artists. Curated by Doreen Squire Ficara, this tiny gallery features works by local children, as well as by kids from Kawachinagano, Japan, Carmel’s sister city. It is housed in a building that measures 9 feet 5 inches by 15 feet 4 inches, which the Guinness Book of World Records has certified as the World’s Smallest Children’s Art Gallery.
The kids whose works are shown here receive certificates documenting their accomplishments, which come in handy when trying to gain admittance to elite private elementaries or when applying for finger-painting fellowships.
40 W. Main St., Carmel, IN 46032
Phone: (317) 844-4989
Hours: Check website; shows vary
Cost: Free
Website: www.carmelartscouncil.org/category/childrens-art-gallery/
Directions: One block west of Rangeline Rd. on Main St., at First Ave.
On August 17, 1859, aeronaut John Wise took off from Lafayette in a balloon, the Jupiter, with 123 stamped letters bound for New York City. Unfortunately, strong winds forced him to crash-land in Crawfordsville about 30 miles away. Wise then took the letters to a train station where they completed the journey by rail. Because the mail went at least part of the way by balloon, through the sky, this postal innovation is considered the world’s first airmail flight.
Today the eastbound journey is re-created, minus the crash landing of course, by a ride at Conner Prairie near Indianapolis. Weather permitting, you can ride this helium-filled contraption 370 feet into the sky over Fishers. The attraction can lift up to 20 people and is securely tethered to Mother Earth. It’s part of the 850-acre Conner Prairie historic pioneer village, where you can learn even more about the way things used to be done—butter churnin’, dandle-dippin’, yarn-spinnin’, and, when the chores are done, stick-whittlin’.
Conner Prairie, 13400 Allisonville Rd., Fishers, IN 46038
Phone: (800) 966-1836 or (317) 776-6000
Hours: May–October, Tuesday–Sunday 10 AM–5 PM; Balloon, April–October, weather permitting
Cost: Balloon $15, +Park admission, Adults $17, Seniors (65+) $16, Kids (2–12) $12
Website: www.connerprairie.org/Places-To-Explore/1859-Balloon-Voyage
Directions: South of 146th St. on Allisonville Rd.
You know the expression: give someone a welded animal, they have a lawn decoration, but teach someone to weld, they’ll make a menagerie. Whoever taught Ernie Taylor to weld did the world a great service, for today Taylor has more than 40 weird animals made from car parts and tools and scrap metal, with plenty of room for more. They’re all lined up along a ditch—dinosaurs, flowers, oversized insects, barnyard animals, crabs, whirligigs, peacocks, troll people—framed by a fence of brightly painted antique farm equipment.
Forty and counting.
10985 Base Line Rd., Jolietville, IN 46077
Private phone
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Directions: West of the Indianapolis Executive Airport on Rte. 32 (Base Line Rd.), just west of Rte. 1100 E, on the south side of the road.
There was a time when the American public took a more active role in national politics. The case of the Van Buren Elm is a prime example.
As president, Martin Van Buren vetoed an appropriation bill for improvements to the National Road. This enraged voters along the essential east–west artery, an anger that didn’t subside until 1842. Van Buren was then an ex-president, traveling through Plainfield by carriage. Earlier, locals had coached his driver to aim for a particularly large pothole along their still-unimproved road. The carriage tipped, and old Martin was dumped out into a mud puddle. For his successful effort, the driver received a silk hat. The tree at the site became known as the Van Buren Elm. And no other president blocked funding; the National Road was completed by 1851.
The original Van Buren Elm fell victim to Dutch elm disease, but it has been replaced by a new sapling—so watch out, all you present and future office holders!
Hands-on democracy.
Friends’ Meetinghouse, 205 S. East St., Plainfield, IN 46168
No phone
Hours: Always visible
Cost: Free
Website: http://plainfieldfriends.com
Directions: One block west of the Rte. 267 Intersection with Rte. 40 (East St.). Hands-on democracy.
The Speedway and Hall of Fame Museum is both the state’s most visited attraction and one of the coolest. You don’t have to be a rabid fan of the sport to get goose bumps as you drive onto the grounds through a tunnel beneath the grandstands and track—the museum is on the infield!
There are about 75 autos on display, from the first racers in 1911 (including the winner, No. 32, the yellow Marmon Wasp) to the most recent winners of the Borg-Warner Trophy, as well as the trophy itself. You’ll also see the fastest Indy winner (Arie Luyendyk’s Lola Chevy at 185.981 mph average) and Eddie Rickenbacker’s 1914 Duesenberg. The World War I flying ace owned the speedway from 1927 to 1945 and is fondly remembered … though perhaps not by the Germans. And it’s educational. You’ll learn plenty about the Memorial Day race, like how (reportedly) 70 percent of auto improvements have originated here, from the rearview mirror to balloon tires. One vehicle is available for photo ops, though think twice about whether you want to squeeze in for a picture—this car isn’t exactly roomy.
Don’t pass on the Track Tour just to save the extra $8; it’s the best part of the visit. Guides take you on one lap around the track in a rental-car shuttle van, after announcing “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Along your journey, you’ll hear many interesting facts: the 2.5-mile track has curves that bank at 9°12’; the track began as a testing facility in 1909; and most of the Brickyard’s original 3.2 million bricks are still just below the concrete surface. You’ll stop in front of the green, pagoda-shaped viewing tower to take photos of the only bricks still exposed (including a gold-plated one), the Finish Line. In the time it takes you to putt around the track just once, a typical racecar would have lapped you 15 or 16 times.
Indianapolis Motor Speedway, 4790 W. 16th St., Speedway, IN 46222
Phone: (317) 492-8500
Hours: March–October, daily 9 AM–5 PM; November–February, daily 10 AM–4 PM
Cost: Adults $8, Kids (6–15) $5, Track Tour, Adults $8, Kids (6–15) $5
Website: www.indianapolismotorspeedway.com/at-the-track/museum
Directions: Crawfordsville Rd. Exit from I-465; head southeast until you reach 16th St.
This place blows. A lot. Which is not to say that it isn’t cool. In fact, it’s all about cooling yourself down … with fans! Hosted by the Fanimation company, a manufacturer of ceiling and standing fans, the Antique Fan Museum has more than 450 different air circulating devices on display, some going back to the 1880s. They’ve got electric-, steam-, battery-, belt-, alcohol-, and water-powered models, and lots of handheld, cool-yourself fans. Many have been rescued from old factories, churches, businesses, and even railroad cars. The museum is the repository of the Antique Fan Collectors Association, which holds conventions and swap meets for those interested in this unique appliance. Hey, everybody needs a hobby.
Fanimation, 10983 Bennett Pky., Zionsville, IN 46077
Phone: (317) 733-4113
Hours: Monday–Friday 10 AM–4 PM
Cost: Free
Website: www.fanimation.com/museum/
Directions: Exit on 106th St. from Rte. 421, west three blocks to Bennett Pky., then north one block.