Up until last week, I did not think I liked parades. This impression was based on two examples, both on television. Of my parade stereotypes, one type consists mainly of enormous balloons representing animals and characters being pulled down a street in a major urban area. The second consists mainly of floats, which are announced breathlessly by commentators, who tell us how many thousand of volunteers spent how many thousand of hours affixing how many thousand of gladiolas to what I would call a hay wagon. Football followed both types of parades, and for most of my adult life, I thought a parade is what one had to endure before enjoying football.
All that changed when I went to the Pierogi Festival last week in Whiting, Indiana. I had heard about pierogi’s and the festival from Mayor Joe Stahura, and after checking the website, I learned that Oprah herself rated the festival as one of the nation’s best. I am unsure how Oprah arrives at her ratings, but I loved it, especially the parade.
In that diverse and beautiful tapestry that is northwest Indiana, Whiting is a jeweled sequin. On the shore of Lake Michigan, tucked between Hammond and East Chicago, its heritage as a Polish enclave is clearly visible. There is a substantial industrial presence of course, especially the BP refinery, one of the largest in the United States. It is driving in the neighborhoods that one senses the flavor of Polish culture and tradition. The homes are older, but the upkeep is virtually flawless, and the lawns immaculate. The main street in the business district is just like the main street in a county seat city in a rural area, and one can easily forget being in the middle of a huge metropolitan region. There is a park on the lakeshore with a magnificent view, including the Chicago skyline.
When my wife and I arrived at the festival, we found that the pierogi was not just a convenient symbol. The festival area was virtually wall-to-wall with food vendors, most offering pierogi’s and other Polish fare. We arrived early, and got our first pierogi’s without standing in line; that convenience did not last long. If you don’t know, a pierogi is a Polish dumpling with various stuffing. I prefer the meat, or the sauerkraut pierogi, but my wife likes the cheese. For dessert, we both liked the plum. There were various stages with live entertainment, and we particularly enjoyed the local dance groups.
Then there was the parade. Despite the error of not staking out a vantage point early, my wife and I fortunately stumbled on a location where we could easily watch. Although I did not know the groups or individuals participating, parade participants were clearly representative of the whole community. Most of the groups were dressed in a costume of one sort or another, apparently the wilder the better. There were no formal floats, balloons, or bands, just folks out for a fancy stroll.
My favorite groups were the washer-women doing the polka with mops and brooms, and the precision drill lawn-mower team. The latter paused in front of us, and attempted to do a drill consisting of marching to the rear and to the front pushing the lawn mowers with great enthusiasm. Thank goodness no one was hurt. I laughed till I cried. Everyone else was laughing too, including the drill team.
One of the first vehicles in the parade had a platform on which Mr. Pierogi sat. I presumed he was more or less the king of the festival. When he went by, he got great cheers, even more than the mayor! Only one other person got cheers louder than Mr. Pierogi. When a local priest came by on the back of a pick-up truck, waving and smiling to the crowd, the ovation was overwhelming. This is some community.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Knobs
Earlier this month, I ventured out of my usual northern and central Indiana haunts to visit the town of Georgetown in southern Indiana. The town is marked on the road map by a small circle, but that is not the shape of the town. In actuality, the town is long and skinny and situated on the side of a large hill above a railroad at the bottom of the hill.
My meeting was at the town hall in the center part of town, and I assumed I would be there momentarily when I hit the town limits. The town population is a tad over 2,200, but traveling from the town limits to downtown felt almost like a commute! The town hall, like many across the state, was once the local bank building. I drove past it initially, and thought I would just go around the block to get to the parking lot. I discovered that when a town is built on a hillside, you don’t just go around the block. I was treated to the streets of San Francisco, Indiana-style.
I have been using the term “hill,” but that is not really correct because Georgetown is built on the side of a “knob.” If you don't know what a knob is, drive to rural Floyd County near New Albany, and look up. You will then see why they are called knobs. While you are in the vicinity, drive eastbound on Interstate 64 from the Georgetown vicinity. As you approach New Albany, you will be treated to one of the most beautiful vistas in the Hoosier state. You are on a ridge looking down into the valley where the city of New Albany sits with the majestic Ohio River as a backdrop.
My meeting was at the town hall in the center part of town, and I assumed I would be there momentarily when I hit the town limits. The town population is a tad over 2,200, but traveling from the town limits to downtown felt almost like a commute! The town hall, like many across the state, was once the local bank building. I drove past it initially, and thought I would just go around the block to get to the parking lot. I discovered that when a town is built on a hillside, you don’t just go around the block. I was treated to the streets of San Francisco, Indiana-style.
I have been using the term “hill,” but that is not really correct because Georgetown is built on the side of a “knob.” If you don't know what a knob is, drive to rural Floyd County near New Albany, and look up. You will then see why they are called knobs. While you are in the vicinity, drive eastbound on Interstate 64 from the Georgetown vicinity. As you approach New Albany, you will be treated to one of the most beautiful vistas in the Hoosier state. You are on a ridge looking down into the valley where the city of New Albany sits with the majestic Ohio River as a backdrop.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Grabill
The note on the roadmap said the Town of Grabill is an Amish town, a substantial understatement. But Grabill is also a railroad town; in fact, the town was founded by the Fort Wayne & Toledo Railroad as the first northbound stop after Fort Wayne. The town is also just down the road from Leo-Cedarville, the only town in Indiana with a hyphenated name. Most of the folks in that area of the state associate Grabill with good food, and the local restaurant draws its clientele from all over northeastern Indiana.
I arrived in town a few minutes prior to my meeting with the town council, giving me a chance to drive around town and check out the sights. It is apparent that Grabill appreciates its history and there are a number of interesting, older buildings in the town. One of the buildings is the Elias Ruff House, which is actually a building from a town in Pennsylvania that was disassembled and then rebuilt in downtown Grabill.
The building that took me by the most surprise though was the town hall itself. If one wants to see how creative landscaping can give a building a totally new look, make a visit to the Grabill Town Hall. My initial impression as I approached the building was that the town hall looks like a cottage, nestled in a small wood in the village. As I got closer, I realized the building was much larger than it first appeared and is perhaps a newer structure
First appearances can be deceiving. I found out later that the building was actually a barn from the estate of the town founder, Joseph Grabill. Mr. Grabill was the town founder, or one of the founders, or just the guy living in the right place at the right time, depending on whom you talk to, but that is another story for another day. The former barn has served as town hall for some time, and the latest remodeling has made the structure attractive and functional. Visit Grabill and check out their unique town hall, but make sure you also plan enough time for a meal at the Grabill Inn.
- Tom Bredeweg
I arrived in town a few minutes prior to my meeting with the town council, giving me a chance to drive around town and check out the sights. It is apparent that Grabill appreciates its history and there are a number of interesting, older buildings in the town. One of the buildings is the Elias Ruff House, which is actually a building from a town in Pennsylvania that was disassembled and then rebuilt in downtown Grabill.
The building that took me by the most surprise though was the town hall itself. If one wants to see how creative landscaping can give a building a totally new look, make a visit to the Grabill Town Hall. My initial impression as I approached the building was that the town hall looks like a cottage, nestled in a small wood in the village. As I got closer, I realized the building was much larger than it first appeared and is perhaps a newer structure
First appearances can be deceiving. I found out later that the building was actually a barn from the estate of the town founder, Joseph Grabill. Mr. Grabill was the town founder, or one of the founders, or just the guy living in the right place at the right time, depending on whom you talk to, but that is another story for another day. The former barn has served as town hall for some time, and the latest remodeling has made the structure attractive and functional. Visit Grabill and check out their unique town hall, but make sure you also plan enough time for a meal at the Grabill Inn.
- Tom Bredeweg
Friday, June 20, 2008
Old Cole
Recently, my wife and I made a Saturday jaunt to Circus City, more commonly known as Peru, Indiana. Peru has a long and interesting connection to the circus. Recently a fire, which destroyed an adjacent building, caused considerable damage to Peru’s Circus Museum. But, repairs will be made, and a visit to that facility is highly recommended.
The circus was not really the reason we visited Peru that Saturday. My wife and I share a passion for the music of Cole Porter, a Peru native. We went to Peru to attend the Cole Porter festival that is held annually in June. In particular, we wanted to attend a concert at the Miami County Historical Museum consisting almost entirely of his music.
At first, the circumstances at the concert tended to confirm my fear that appreciation for Cole Porter music will evaporate over the years. I was rather disappointed by the small crowd, made up mostly of couples our age or even older. However, I was not disappointed by the music! A young pianist, a Peru native now attending Butler University, played a rendition of “Anything Goes” that brought the audience to its feet. The high school music teacher sang “Begin the Beguine,” our favorite piece, and played several numbers on the saxophone.
The last portion of the concert was a short performance by the Peru High School Swing Choir. They did their regular show, and then finished with a medley of Porter music. My strong hunch is that performing the medley is a dreaded chore for the swing choir, something that must be done at this annual event for the benefit of the old folk. Hearing them sing, however, gave me great hope. I am convinced that singing the medley is planting seeds in these talented young musicians that will be manifested later in their lives. They will hear “Night and Day” on an elevator twenty years from now, and then use whatever technology is in vogue to capture and listen to past recordings. I hope they find the Frank Sinatra version.
We left the concert, drove by the Cole Porter birthplace, then continued home full of hope that our grandchildren and great grandchildren will have the opportunity to listen to some of the best music ever written and performed.
- Tom Bredeweg
The circus was not really the reason we visited Peru that Saturday. My wife and I share a passion for the music of Cole Porter, a Peru native. We went to Peru to attend the Cole Porter festival that is held annually in June. In particular, we wanted to attend a concert at the Miami County Historical Museum consisting almost entirely of his music.
At first, the circumstances at the concert tended to confirm my fear that appreciation for Cole Porter music will evaporate over the years. I was rather disappointed by the small crowd, made up mostly of couples our age or even older. However, I was not disappointed by the music! A young pianist, a Peru native now attending Butler University, played a rendition of “Anything Goes” that brought the audience to its feet. The high school music teacher sang “Begin the Beguine,” our favorite piece, and played several numbers on the saxophone.
The last portion of the concert was a short performance by the Peru High School Swing Choir. They did their regular show, and then finished with a medley of Porter music. My strong hunch is that performing the medley is a dreaded chore for the swing choir, something that must be done at this annual event for the benefit of the old folk. Hearing them sing, however, gave me great hope. I am convinced that singing the medley is planting seeds in these talented young musicians that will be manifested later in their lives. They will hear “Night and Day” on an elevator twenty years from now, and then use whatever technology is in vogue to capture and listen to past recordings. I hope they find the Frank Sinatra version.
We left the concert, drove by the Cole Porter birthplace, then continued home full of hope that our grandchildren and great grandchildren will have the opportunity to listen to some of the best music ever written and performed.
- Tom Bredeweg
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monon
I do not need a note on my roadmap to remind me that taking US 421 to State Road 43 is one of the better ways to travel between the central and north central portions of Indiana. I have driven it many times, and on occasion, I have been a little road weary when making that drive, but going through Monon always cheers me up. Monon, an old railroad town, is close to the northern end of Lake Shafer.
It is the railroad aspect of the town that cheers me up; particularly a site just two miles north of town, the Monon Connection Museum and the Whistle Stop Restaurant. The owner, a railroad buff, has accumulated several railroad cars and equipment. Even at night, it is an impressive site. I have not dined at the Whistle Stop, but I am told that patrons eat off the china that was used in the fine dining cars of yesteryear.
Recently I was at a meeting in the Monon Town Hall, a picturesque municipal building in its own right. I was chatting with Michele Robinson, the town's clerk-treasurer, about the museum and restaurant. After giving me some of the history, she reminded me that the facility was not in town limits, and the town had some fine eating establishments inside corporate borders. One of the best is Monon Family Restaurant, but she recommended that I really need to visit the town bakery, O'Rear's Pastry by Maria. It is a recommendation that I intend to follow the next time through town.
- Tom Bredeweg
It is the railroad aspect of the town that cheers me up; particularly a site just two miles north of town, the Monon Connection Museum and the Whistle Stop Restaurant. The owner, a railroad buff, has accumulated several railroad cars and equipment. Even at night, it is an impressive site. I have not dined at the Whistle Stop, but I am told that patrons eat off the china that was used in the fine dining cars of yesteryear.
Recently I was at a meeting in the Monon Town Hall, a picturesque municipal building in its own right. I was chatting with Michele Robinson, the town's clerk-treasurer, about the museum and restaurant. After giving me some of the history, she reminded me that the facility was not in town limits, and the town had some fine eating establishments inside corporate borders. One of the best is Monon Family Restaurant, but she recommended that I really need to visit the town bakery, O'Rear's Pastry by Maria. It is a recommendation that I intend to follow the next time through town.
- Tom Bredeweg
Friday, May 16, 2008
Duneland Perch
Recently I had the pleasure of spending some time with the town officials of Chesterton, a town located in Porter County and near Lake Michigan. Chesterton is adjacent to the town of Porter; in fact, the towns are separated mainly by railroad tracks. Both towns have distinct central business areas that seem to be doing well.
There are numerous examples across Indiana of adjacent municipalities, or course, ranging from suburbs with major urban centers, to land-locked urban areas such as the northern portion of Lake County. There are fewer examples of similar-size municipalities that have more or less developed together, side-by-side.
There was an attempt many years ago to merge the towns, but the referendum was soundly defeated. If it had succeeded the town was to be called Westchester, which is the name of the township in the area. The towns cooperate in a variety of ways, but seem generally comfortable with the separate town governments. Cooperation typically extends to include Burns Harbor which is right up the road. There might be a merger some day, but no one seems in a rush.
Many of the cooperative ventures have used the term, Duneland, rather than Westchester. The famous sand dunes of Lake Michigan are just a stone's throw away. No discussion about the Duneland area is complete without mentioning a local delicacy. It may not compete with breaded tenderloins for popularity with Hoosiers, but one has not lived until they have had a plate of boned and buttered perch accompanied by a cold adult beverage. If you are ever in the area, get off the Interstate, have some perch, and visit the twin towns of Porter and Chesterton.
There are numerous examples across Indiana of adjacent municipalities, or course, ranging from suburbs with major urban centers, to land-locked urban areas such as the northern portion of Lake County. There are fewer examples of similar-size municipalities that have more or less developed together, side-by-side.
There was an attempt many years ago to merge the towns, but the referendum was soundly defeated. If it had succeeded the town was to be called Westchester, which is the name of the township in the area. The towns cooperate in a variety of ways, but seem generally comfortable with the separate town governments. Cooperation typically extends to include Burns Harbor which is right up the road. There might be a merger some day, but no one seems in a rush.
Many of the cooperative ventures have used the term, Duneland, rather than Westchester. The famous sand dunes of Lake Michigan are just a stone's throw away. No discussion about the Duneland area is complete without mentioning a local delicacy. It may not compete with breaded tenderloins for popularity with Hoosiers, but one has not lived until they have had a plate of boned and buttered perch accompanied by a cold adult beverage. If you are ever in the area, get off the Interstate, have some perch, and visit the twin towns of Porter and Chesterton.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Circle Inside a Square
Long ago, when I was starting my career with IACT, I went to a Mayors Roundtable meeting hosted by the city of Angola. The city's mayor at that time was Roman Beer, a great guy with a wonderful sense of humor. He told the crowd that day that the city had only one stoplight, and if they could just get a second one, he would feel his public service career complete.
I was back in Angola a few days ago, and Mayor Beer's dream had come true. There were several stoplights. Deb Twitchell, the clerk-treasurer, told me that there are at least seven, maybe eight. And it's good that that the new stoplights are slowing folks down, giving them time to look around at the city streets. There are some streets with large beautiful homes. There are others with more modest homes. To my eye they had something in common. They were all neat and well kept. I looked, but couldn't find, a single junk car.
While tree-lined streets are common in Indiana, Angola is truly home to an urban forest. The county courthouse, just across the square from city hall, is a brick building that reminds one of a New England town hall. The most remarkable feature of the downtown is the Soldiers Monument, which is in the middle of the square. It memorializes the 1,278 citizens of Angola that served their country in the Civil War. Their names are engraved on the monument.
About that square: it really is a circle inside a square. The traffic pattern is what we call a "roundabout" these days. Angola's own is nothing new. The circle was put in place when the monument was erected in 1917. That is seven years before the town of Carmel, now a city known for roundabouts, placed one of the first automatic stop-and-go traffic signals in the at the intersection of Main Street and Range Line Road.
- Tom Bredeweg
I was back in Angola a few days ago, and Mayor Beer's dream had come true. There were several stoplights. Deb Twitchell, the clerk-treasurer, told me that there are at least seven, maybe eight. And it's good that that the new stoplights are slowing folks down, giving them time to look around at the city streets. There are some streets with large beautiful homes. There are others with more modest homes. To my eye they had something in common. They were all neat and well kept. I looked, but couldn't find, a single junk car.
While tree-lined streets are common in Indiana, Angola is truly home to an urban forest. The county courthouse, just across the square from city hall, is a brick building that reminds one of a New England town hall. The most remarkable feature of the downtown is the Soldiers Monument, which is in the middle of the square. It memorializes the 1,278 citizens of Angola that served their country in the Civil War. Their names are engraved on the monument.
About that square: it really is a circle inside a square. The traffic pattern is what we call a "roundabout" these days. Angola's own is nothing new. The circle was put in place when the monument was erected in 1917. That is seven years before the town of Carmel, now a city known for roundabouts, placed one of the first automatic stop-and-go traffic signals in the at the intersection of Main Street and Range Line Road.
- Tom Bredeweg
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