marchin' to a different tune

It was fun to read the following description about my homebase from a reporter's perspective. Downtown was a short 8 blocks from our pre-Civil War era clapboard house with the porch swing and front stoop. It seemed at five years old, I was allowed to roam freely--go out and play--riding my bike in the alley, spending my 25 cent allowance at the movie theater and discovering sanctuary in the hushed upstairs library. I was thrilled by the parades down Locust Street, usually originating at the High School across from the Church of Christ a block away . The Drum Major commanded the band with a whistle right past our front door at 998 Locust followed by Santa Claus and other local celebrities. Their names all ring a bell.

I got sick one summer day while walking home from downtown--probably too much cherry coke at Moore's soda fountain--and ducked into the nearest storefront. I can't even remember if it was the jewelry store or the tavern; it really didn't matter. The owner rang the 4 digit number to my house and Mom came right away. In this world where Dad's uncle Clancy flipped the main switch to turn on all the lampposts in the evening, I wasn't ever afraid. Until we moved away to a rural spread in the early 60s and one evening, the TV news interrupted "The Wonderful World of Disney" to report a prisoner escaped from Pendleton, practically in my new back yard. I've been a control freak about locking doors ever since.

EDITOR'S NOTE: The Middletown
High School Alumni Association recently
held their annual dinner at the Shenandoah
Elementary School cafeteria. The class
of 1957 was honored as MHS Alumnus Buster
Johnson read his essay to the guests as follows:

If we could go back to Spring of 1957, as you turn the corner at 8th Street and Locust and look downtown, you would see a thriving little community in action.

First there is Les Dav's Standard Oil Gas Station which had become very well known with the Standard Oilers baseball team, a semi-pro team made up of local players and coached by Monty Hale. Les sponsored this team for several years and it made statewide news, winning the midwest regional championship on several occasions. Across the street was Ronnie Gustin's brand new Sinclair Gas station, very popular. Next was Charlie King's corner tavern; they had great fish sandwiches.

Across from there was Charlie Sanders' Plymouth and Dodge dealership. This year was a major change for the big 3 auto companies. They all went to the large rear fin. Charlie was proud of that new Plymouth Fury sitting in his showroom window. People were saying "Charlie, will it fly?" The other two dealerships were just as excited. At Dietrich Chevrolet, Bud was happy with
the new Bel Air Chevy turning a lot of heads. Hank McCrocklin was excited about Ford putting the large fins on the Thunderbird and the Fairlane making the Bird America's #1 sports car. Every fall this was the talk of the town when the new models were announced and people would come from all over to check them out.

Across from Charlie Sanders was Bob Troy's Jewelry Store, then Frank Zile Shell Station with its automatic car wash, and on the corner, Dr. Arford. Edith Maddy's department store for our school clothes came with that special "denim smell" as you walk in. McMullen Hardware, Goffs Meat Market and Don Bickham's 5 & 10 cent store with that heavenly candy counter that pulled you in. Paul Sheddrick Jewelry Store was next door to Daddy Moore's Corner Drugstore, a popular place with the soda fountain serving Sealtest ice cream. Bob Jameson and Betty Wood were two of the steady customers.

Across the street on the corner was the town hall and police station where Fred Glad, Clete Watson, and Dorothy Bruce kept things in line. If you hung around outside in front near the "liars bench" very long. you might catch Hersh Davis and Rosie Barrett in an argument, or if you looked across the street, you might see Todd Hart polishing the Farmers Bank sign. Next door was the Fire Station, then Stub Gorman's Grocery Store, and upstairs in the Tykle Building, the Masonic Lodge and Rainbow Girls organization.

The other corner was Charlie Tucker Flooring and Furniture, The Hat Box, and the City Barber Shop where many stories and tales began, operated byDon Dennis and Raymond Kelly. Above the Barber Shop, let's not forget, the Conservation Club's fish fry each Saturday night where the fish aroma would draw you up the stairs. Van-Noy Theater was our favorite place for
entertainment and always had the latest movies. Harry never got rich charging 50 cents for adults and 20 cent for kids. Johnny Sellers sold popcorn for 10 cents and cokes for 5 cents. That's hard to imagine!

Across the street was George Ballard Funeral Home, the Post Office managed by Alice Hodson and carriers Joe Vandergrift, Jim Lennen, Rufus Purdue, and BillFadely. Next we have Walter Schott's Hardware Store for our fishing and hunting supplies. Upstairs was the Library managed by Martha Jones. Farmers State Bank on the corner was managed by Sara Ferrell and Bill Davis. Next door was Murray Templetons' Pool Hall and you could cut the smoke-filled room with a knife. Fadely's Tavern followed next and some say Bud Fadley had the best hamburgers in town. This was also a "stag" bar meaning "no women allowed"! Can you believe that?
Next business was Ralph Green's Heating and plumbing, then Raymond Van-Cour's Restaurant, followed by Ting Hess Insurance, Middletown License Branch, and Louise Williams IGA Supermarket.

This takes care of the downtown, now let's go to the west end where all of the jobs are located. We had two factories: the tomato canning factory at 13th and High Street and Liebhardt Woolen
Mill on 11th Street; three tool and die shops; more gas stations: Kirkpatrick's DX and Don Kline Power King. There were two grocery stores, Kenny Seyberts and Leonard Ormes. A stockyard
operated by Jake Harris, Les Day's Oil Bulk Plant, two lumber yards, one owned by Charlie Wisehart and the other by Paul Campbell, and Hoppes' Coal Yard.

The Chatterbox Restaurant was our favorite local hangout and after a baskethall game you couldn't get a seat in the place. It had a jukebox in the corner playing those rock and roll hits by Elvis-"Don't Be Cruel", "Teddy Bear"and Jerry Lee Lewis' big hit, "A Whole Lotta Shaken Goin' On." I think those went on all summer. Kids loved to dance to it. It was the new beginning of the rock and roll era.

Out at the high school, the Middletown Cossacks Marching Band was making all the news by winning first place at Lake Webster's Mermaid Festival and tying for 7th place at the lndiana State Fair Contest competing with over 300 other high school bands; the highest finish ever for MHS, directed by Don Osmond. They were so very proud that they accomplished this by doing a great routine to the hit song by Bill Haley. "Rock around the Clock"; plus, let's not forget, we had a darling little mascot with the band in GinneyRiley (MarilynRiley's daughter) to lead the way, and the crowd loved it. The band was also invited to perform in the Anderson Christmas Parade, Delco Remy Open House, and the new Highland High School just opened and invited them over to show off a little of our marching routines. It must have worked because a few years later Highland started winning a lot of contests! The band also had a 6 piece brass group that scored individual first place.awards at Butler University and Ball State.

This Senior Class dominated this band with 22 members being a band student or majorette. We will never forget seeing you march at all those basketball games, filling the floor in a sea of red and playing our school song in a packed gymnasium with our loyal Cossack fans. You certainly proved that hard work and dedication pays off. We will never forget you "Class of'57"!

so sew

The planet whirs so fast, it makes me dizzy most days.
I know I am to embrace change, take risks, try new ways to approach old things.

Consider the case of two sewing machines--one from the sixties, the trusty Kenmore that I packed off to college with me in the tender years when Mom or I sewed everything I wore.
And on the other hand, Mom's newer Elna from 1975; it cost $500--roughly a year's tuition at my state's engineering school--and I inherited it a few years ago when Mother moved to heaven where needle threading is not an issue.
You might wonder what was I doing at an engineering university?
The answer is related to sewing skills learned primarily from my years in 4-H
and many field trips to Indiana's land grant institution and home of Cooperative Extension Services, Purdue U. I already knew my way around the campus and separation from home is less intimidating if you know where to find things. The ratio of men students to women didn't hurt either.

Anytime I needed (or wanted) something new to wear, I walked to downtown Lafayette to shop at northwest Indiana's wonderland fabric store. (It's now defunct and it's name I can't recall.) Back at the dormitory, I set up my workhorse sewing machine to construct the garment of choice. This was not unusual for many of us girls in the 60s-70s to be sewing our clothes, creating our individual expressions of style. My friend across the hall made a new knee-length floaty vest every week to wear on her next date.

Early in my second year of college, I was shopping for books and supplies near campus when I decided to check out a clothing boutique next to the bookstore. I was smitten with the instant gratification of ready to wear and especially Levi jeans. I was wearing one of my purchases when I met my very own electrical engineer and changed my major.

The portable Kenmore continued to serve me well through the nesting years of covering windows, upholstering second hand furniture and youngsters, mending their pockets and burst seams. When I brought the luxurious Elna home, it came with a cabinet; and with the kids clearing out of the bedrooms, I had space to set up shop.

Problem is, I've not ever used the Elna and I can thread the Kenmore with my eyes closed and one arm behind my back. When the time came to give one machine to my daughter, I handed over the sleek Elna, knowing she was young enough to figure it out. I had to swallow the bitter pill that I was set in my ways.

TLC aired a show this summer called "I've Got Nothing to Wear."
In modern female jargon, that usually means "time to go shopping." But this show took a new angle to an old fashioned practice and shopped the closet instead, using the remnants of ready to wear to create custom garments. I enjoyed watching Fashion Institute of Technology students
tailor ill fitting, out dated clothing into something new and unexpected.

Googling "wardrobe refashion", I found crafters around the globe who
deconstruct clothing and then use parts of several garments to construct unique wearable art.
One of my favorites is Lori Marsha Sandstedt of Redlands, California. I'm inspired to dust off the Kenmore and root through my closet for what I don't wear. Instead of donating it right away (much of the clothing given to Goodwill and Salvation Army ends up in industrial cleaning rags), perhaps a snip here and a stitch there will yield a new thing.