And it’s gone: 3490 Bluff Road

I’m startled that, after I finally made a pilgrimage to 3490 Bluff Road, it’s now gone.

A few weeks back in this spot, I talked about visiting 3490 Bluff Road this fall. The address, on Indianapolis’ south side, was for decades the studio of WTTV 4, the independent TV station that was the home of Dick the Bruiser and other wrestlers, kids’ show hosts Cowboy Bob and Janie and late-night horror host Sammy Terry.

I just got around to going to see the station building, which hadn’t been used in a decade and had been for sale for several years … and now it’s gone.

The Indianapolis Star reported recently that 3490 Bluff Road was demolished.

It’s no more.

I’m glad I got a chance to check it out before it was gone.

iPhoneography: More on the Ski-Hi Drive-In

About a year ago I wrote about and posted some pictures of the Ski-Hi Drive-In, my community’s shuttered but last remaining drive-in theater – remaining, at least, in the sense of the shell of the screen tower and dilapidated concession stand/projection booth remain in place, where two highways meet north of Muncie.

Since that time I’ve talked to the owner of the property for an upcoming story for publication in my real job. He encouraged me to go onto the property and take pictures, so I thought I would share some here.

The back of the screen tower, which greeted patrons – and now looms over passersby – is in pretty rough shape. The owner told me there was an apartment at the base of the tower that someone once lived in.

It’s not that hard to imagine – and, for me, remember – movies playing out on the big screen framed by the Hoosier night sky.

You can still make out the earthen ridges made to elevate the front ends of patron’s cars, trucks and vans.

The concession stand exterior, with the expected graffiti.

The door broken in the past few years by intruders.

The concession stand is still recognizable, but has put up with a lot of abuse from vandals, the elements and years of neglect.

I’ll update you when I know something about the fate of this once-grand old drive-in movie theater.

iPhoneography: The cemetery in winter

Maybe it’s laziness. Maybe it’s the lack of good subjects. Maybe it’s my winter fatigue. But I haven’t taken all that many iPhone photos lately and haven’t shared any here.

So I thought I would share a few that I took with my iPhone a couple of weeks ago.

We’re only just now getting out of the grip of winter, but to have a snow like this in March was out of the ordinary. So I thought a trip to Beech Grove Cemetery here in Muncie, Indiana, would make for some nice photos.

Regular readers know I love old cemeteries. They’re wonderful spots for photography.

Turns out they’re pretty good for wintertime pictures as well.

 

iPhoneography (and otherwise) Falls of the Ohio fossil beds

The Falls of the Ohio State Park, on the Indiana side of the Ohio River, is a beautiful place. The river runs between the park’s starkly modern interpretive center and downtown Louisville.

Along the river are 390 million year-old fossil beds dotted with millions of tiny animal and plant remains embedded into rock as well as tiny tidal pools full of water from the river.

There’s an otherworldly feel to the landscape, with driftwood piled high on the Indiana side and the locks of the river on the other.

I’ve been a couple of times now and here are a few pictures, iPhone photos and ordinary digital pics.

Above is a digital shot of sunset along the river.

I love the contrast of tidal pools and the city in the background.

 

iPhoneography: Winchester, Indiana

Here’s another of our periodic looks at communities as seen through my iPhone.

This time: Winchester, Indiana.

The county seat of Randolph County, Winchester has about 5,000 residents. It’s downtown has fared pretty well compared to many Midwestern towns. There’s a restored – and renovated – courthouse (above) and a fairly vital downtown core around the courthouse square.

The courthouse square is decorated, like many others, with memorials to veterans and past wars.

Some of Winchester’s memorials are beautiful.

And dramatic, like this doughboy statue.

There’s some slightly more modern weapons of war on display.

Inside the courthouse, a memorial to famous Randolph County residents. To me, the best known is probably director Robert Wise, who made “West Side Story” and “Star Trek: The Motion Picture.”

So it’s especially nice that downtown Winchester still has a working movie theater.

 

iPhoneography: Fall colors

I dread the onset of winter, but I really like a lot about fall: Halloween, crisp colors and the colors of turning leaves.

So here are a few fall pics I snapped with my iPhone while on a walk tonight.

 

Close up or at a distance, the colors are so warm they belie the cool weather.

 

Jet trails make a nice contrasting image.

 

Today in Halloween: Scaring trick-or-treaters

Because I lived in the country when I was growing up, I’d venture into the city and go trick-or-treating every Halloween with my cousins and some friends, who lived in a densely-populated part of town with what seemed like a bazillion trick-or-treaters.

Seriously, you almost couldn’t make your way down the sidewalk without tripping over some other pint-size goblin or superhero.

We did it every year, but one year in particular stands out in my memory.

My cousin, friends and I made our way from house-to-house, like we always did. I was at a disadvantage, as always, because of my mask. I’m pretty sure this year it was a cheap rubber monster mask of some kind, but the disadvantage came in because I had to wear it over my glasses.

As a kid who got glasses in the middle of first grade, I had grown accustomed to all the drawbacks of being a four eyes. But one of the worst was how anything that covered your nose and face – winter weather knit ski masks, for example, but especially Halloween masks – would make my glasses fog up.

So I was flying blind. Or walking blind.

My group walked up the sidewalk to a house much like every other house we had visited that night. But this one was different.

Inside lived someone who loved Halloween very much. That or a sadist who hated kids.

As we drew near the door, someone on the front porch pulled a rope and a dummy fell out of a tree in front of us. It was obviously a stuffed figure but freaked us out anyway. We turned to run.

But they weren’t done with us yet. The homeowner had stationed friends or, most likely, teenage offspring, behind bushes and trees in the front yard. As we beat a hasty retreat they popped out at us, yelling and growling.

We all ran like crazy. Some of us missed the sidewalk and burst out into the nearby street. Luckily cars were moving along at a crawl because of all the kids who were out.

I’ve never forgotten that night. I still think of it when I’m walking my son through our neighborhood and somebody has obviously replaced a stuffed figure in a porch chair with a living, breathing person, ready to jump at us.

It’s fun to be scared on Halloween. A little bit.

iPhoneography: Hartford City, Indiana

It’s time for another look at one of East Central Indiana’s cities as glimpsed through my iPhone.

Hartford City, county seat of Blackford County, was settled and platted in the mid-1800s, sent soldiers to fight and die in the Civil War and saw a growth spurt during the late 1800s natural gas boom.

Curiously, there’s not a lot of recognition of the gas boom in Hartford City – unlike Gas City, just to the north, where some street sign posts are shaped like natural gas wells – but the community’s remembrance of its sons’ Civil War service is very noticeable around the courthouse.

The top photo is a view of the Blackford County Courthouse’s 165-foot tower.

The courthouse was the county’s second, built 1893-95, as a historical marker helpfully tells us, and is an example of Richardsonian Romanesque style.

The tower is very eye-catching and helps the courthouse dominate the downtown square.

The courthouse square has war memorials on each corner. This is the Civil War memorial.

In Hartford City, they keep their cannon balls handy. And shiny.

Among the other memorials is one to World War I doughboys.

Inside the courthouse, this tin ceiling is a nice architectural detail.

Like many smaller cities and towns, Hartford City has struggled to keep its downtown alive. Hartford City has some truly impressive and historic buildings surrounding its courthouse square, though. One of them is the Tyner/Knights of Pythias building.

The Tyner building, built around 1900, was home to professional offices for decades and was, in the 1920s, home to the Ku Klux Klan. At the time, the KKK had a huge presence in Indiana and all but constituted a shadow government.

Then there’s the Hotel Ingram, which online sources date to 1893. It’s a beautiful building in Romanesque Revival style but has seen better days.

One of Hartford City’s grandest buildings surely was the Weiler’s Building, once home to a large department store. Weiler’s store was opened by four brothers from Germany. The town’s elders bragged that Weiler’s rivaled any big city department store.

Lastly, a look at a ghost sign. I enjoy finding these on the sides of downtown buildings. I’m posting this even though the sun’s rays really weren’t in the right spot for this shot. But there is a ghost sign there, believe me!

 

 

 

 

Movie magic: My favorite big-screen moments

How many times, while watching a movie, did you find yourself wearing a huge grin of appreciation, chuckling with approval or outright yelling “YES!” back at the screen?

If that sounds familiar, you’ve had some goosebump moments, scenes that connected on a visceral level with you as a moviegoer.

I’m a lifelong movie fan and I’ve had a lot of those moments. But these are some of the very best.

The head popping out of the boat in “Jaws.” When my friend Jim and I went to see “Jaws” for the first time, the showing was sold out. We decided to wait for the next one, hanging out in a nearby ice cream shop. As we sat there, incredulous, the clerks behind the counter – who had somehow already seen the movie – dissected the entire plot, scene by scene, including the moment when, as Richard Dreyfuss dives to investigate a wrecked boat, the head of Ben, the shark’s victim, floats out of a hole in the hull. Even though the ice cream shop kids spoiled the moment for us, it was still amazing to see.

“Star Wars” and the passing of the Imperial ship overhead. Just after the opening credits of the groundbreaking 1977 science fiction classic, the blockade runner ship carrying, as we will soon find out, Princess Leia, passes overhead. The model is impressively detailed and looks big. Then the Imperial cruiser carrying, as we will soon find out, Darth Vader, passes overhead. And passes. And passes. And passes. You think it’s done but – psyche! – it’s just the docking bay. So it goes on and on and on some more.

Muncie in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” I was born and raised in Muncie, Indiana, so it was particularly goosebump-inducing to see not only the onscreen subtitle for Indianapolis but my hometown of Muncie. So the portrayal of Muncie and its denizens wasn’t very flattering. It was our biggest big-screen moment.

The boulder in “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” I didn’t know what to expect from Steven Spielberg’s homage to old movie serials, so the first 10 or 15 minutes of the movie – with a jungle trek, creepy spiders, double-crossing guides, skeletons on spikes and lots of whip action – had me nearly breathless with appreciation. Then Harrison Ford has to outrun a huge boulder. Holy crap!

Nick Fury shows up in “Iron Man.” I realized that my first four favorite moments were all from George Lucas or Steven Spielberg movies. My favorite modern-day movie moment just might be when Samuel L. Jackson shows up, eyepatch and all, at the end of Jon Favreau’s 2008 superhero movie that kicked off the Marvel cinematic universe. If “Iron Man” had bombed, the presence of Nick Fury wouldn’t have carried any more significance than the title of the ill-fated “Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins.” (Hint: The adventure ended.) But “Iron Man” was a terrific movie and began the road to “The Avengers.”

Classic TV: Paul Dixon and his show

Here’s one from the wayback machine for us Midwesterners: Cincinnati-based broadcaster Paul Dixon was the toast of the airwaves in the tri-state area in the 1960s and early 1970s.

Dixon’s show – which aired each morning on Channel 13 in Indianapolis – was a truly goofy local talk and variety show that revolved around Dixon, a self-styled dirty old man, and regulars like singers Bonnie Lou and Colleen Sharp.

One of the things that most appealed to me, as a kid and young adolescent, was just how naughty the Dixon show seemed.

As juvenile and silly as it was – and you can’t get much sillier than a wedding for rubber chickens or a middle-aged man parading around dressed like a baby – the show had a decidedly off-color edge.

Dixon would compliment his nearly-always-exclusively-female audience on their looks, following that up with checking out the miniskirt-wearing front row with a pair of binoculars and declaring himself the “mayor of Kneesville.”

He would then choose a “winner” – usually a  young Cincy housewife – and slip a garter onto her thigh, followed by a “knee tickler,” some faux jewel bauble that would hang below the hem of her skirt. Thus, tickling her knee.

The whole process involved as much good-natured groping of the audience member as was probably allowed on TV at the time.

Not to be forgotten: The T-shirt giveaway that entailed “Paul Baby” helping a woman into a tight shirt, donned over her clothes, that ended up looking like standing-up groping.

For a lot of us kids, watching on sick days or during the summer, it all seemed like forbidden stuff. It sure as heck wasn’t run-of-the-mill daytime TV.

Dixon’s show aired on WLW-TV in Cincinnati from 1955 until shortly following his death in December 1974.

While other local shows might have emulated Dixon’s oddball charm, it’s hard to imagine they duplicated it.

And Dixon’s shadow was long. David Letterman, who has traditionally been as gracious as can be about the type of pioneering Midwestern broadcasters who came before him, like Johnny Carson, spoke to the Cincinnati Enquirer in 1997 and cited Dixon’s influences on his offbeat comedic choices, repeatedly maintaining that Dixon was funnier than he was.

That’s not really the case. But Dixon was truly an original.