Imagining dinosaurs

By Fran Pawlowski, Carmel

One of my favorite places to bring people in Indiana is The Children's Museum. I remember visiting it for the first time with our children, who were 11, 8 and 7. It was a great time for all of us.

Now, when I bring my grandchildren there, they tell me we have to visit Dinosphere first. They want to see the dinosaurs escape and the Pterodactyls fly above us. They always have to work the Dinosaur puzzle and listen to it growl at them.

I eventually coax them onto the train exhibits and other areas on that level. This is such a magical place for children of all ages to have a great time using their imagination.

When it's time to go, my grandchildren don't want to leave. I ask them on the way home what their favorite part was, and of course they both answer in unison, "Dinosphere"!

By Ann Nagy, Evansville

My parents, Maurice and Lillian Beckman of St. Anthony, Ind., created a tradition as I was growing up. Every Sunday, our family would go to church and then visit family members, neighbors or a special place. For one of these summer outings in the mid-1960s, our farm family of 12 visited Santa Claus Land in the town of Santa Claus, which was the world's first theme park.

I remember being in awe of a gigantic Santa Claus statue atop a hill that welcomed us to a day of fun away from the normal routine of farm chores. We rode the Mother Goose train and heard familiar nursery rhymes being spoken. Through our train windows we watched colorfully painted statues that re-enacted the rhymes.

The toy shop was exquisite. Most of all, I loved seeing Santa Claus, his elves and all the beautiful items in the gift shop. I wished we could receive them all as gifts for Christmas.
More than 40 years later, I still have fond memories of this day.

My own children can attest that Holiday World and Splashin' Safari, as this park is now called, continues to be a great, affordable place to enjoy family and friends.

By Laura L. Groves, Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

My Indiana was the best of both worlds. From field trips to the opera to trips along the footpath that led to a clear creek, life in Bloomington was rich and full. The hustle and bustle of Indiana University beckoned in one way, while the simple life out by the defunct quarries issued a different call. I was determined to go off and make my way on another campus someday. I could do it, for I'd seen it done and it looked so alluring. But the weekends and summers back home in Indiana were comforting, peaceful, restful. Walking and talking, as we inhaled the beauty of our rural lane and made jaunts to the county fair.

Fall was a kaleidoscope of colors in our own front yard, followed by snow and skimming over the crusty white blanket in a red plastic saucer sled. Spring, always welcome, brought that rich green back with yet another seasonal palette.

The people smile and welcome you or stop to help when you've run out of gas or a tire has gone flat.

Bloomington was a busy place in many ways, but its people were never too busy for each other. What lessons to carry from one's childhood: a life rich in culture, beauty and academic excellence that still recognizes the value of a neighbor. That's my Indiana.

(Groves visits Indianapolis about twice a year.)

By Lylanne Musselman, Indianapolis

In 1968, a time when the nation was at unrest, my hometown of Eaton was the picture of calm. While every night the national news showed riots in American streets, I walked uptown alone every day to get the mail or buy myself penny candies and 45 records at Hogan's Drugstore.

My friends and I rode our bikes up and down the tree-lined streets without worry of speeding cars or irate drivers annoyed by our presence. As the hippies were shouting "flower power" in California or other faraway places, I enjoyed the honeysuckle that grew beside my grandparent's porch by sucking the sweet nectar from the flowers. The aroma of the lilac bushes overpowered the smell of the cow pastures at the outskirts of town. The red poppy patch served as second base for kickball games with the neighborhood kids.

Influenced by the "boob tube," my cousins, Gina and Ben, and I played "Mod Squad" or ambushed each other by jumping into huge piles of leaves as if we were soldiers fighting the Vietnam War that overshadowed our lives.

We always played hard until the streetlights came on and sent us home tired, happy and safe.

By Mark R. Hummer, Indianapolis

These are some of my favorite Indiana memories:

Watching the Downtown Indianapolis fireworks from the roof of the Richard R. Roudebush Veterans Administration Hospital in 1997.

Walking down the food lanes at the Indiana State Fair with my kids, trying to decide which booth to visit first.

Visiting Union Station in 1995 with my wife when we were trying to decide where she should go for her medical residency. After the visit we decided to move to Indy.

Visiting the flea markets in Shipshawana and feeling like time had stopped.
Exploring treasures of the Covered Bridge Festival in Rockville.

Eating at the Gropp's Famous Fish of Stroh restaurant in Fort Wayne. Its fish is the closest I've come to the kind my Grandma Hummer used to make.

Cooling off on a hot summer day with the kids at Holiday World.

Summer would not be complete without our Country Club Place neighborhood block part and Fourth of July Festival.

By Stephen J. Stalcup, Greenwood

The term Hoosier Hysteria is often used as a general description of the passion for high school basketball in our state. To those of us who experienced it first hand during the Golden Age from 1945 to 1960, this remains the source of treasured memories.

I graduated from Vincennes Lincoln High School in 1959 near the end of this era. The high school basketball tournament's Vincennes Sectional had 13 teams, all from Knox County, competing that year. The tournament was held over several days before a full house of rabid fans cheering for their respective teams at the 5,000-seat Coliseum in Vincennes.

The atmosphere was electric with excitement and anticipation that built as the week went on, peaking on Saturday night when the final two teams battled for the crown. After that contest, fans of both teams, emotionally spent, walked out into the chilly night with sounds of the pandemonium they had just experienced still ringing in their ears.

Within a few years, Knox County had consolidated into only four high schools. The Knox County-only sectional tournament was gone forever.

Years later, Indiana instituted class basketball with multiple champions based on enrollment levels. Never again would there be one king-of-the-hill basketball champion for Indiana or the possibility of a repeat of the Milan Miracle of 1954.

Nearly fifty years later, I can still recall the exciting sights, sounds and smells of those tournaments as if they occurred yesterday. They will always be a favorite memory of my Indiana.

By Orv Knarr, Indianapolis

Although born and raised in the hills of Pennsylvania, I consider myself a Hoosier. My Boston friends could not understand why I chose a "cornfield with lights" when I moved to Indianapolis in 1966 to open a regional office for our company. I spent six wonderful years in a city that showed promise under then-Mayor Richard Lugar.

My son was 6 weeks old when we moved here and my daughter was born here. I left in 1972 and have since lived and traveled all over our great country, thinking all the while I would gladly move back if the opportunity presented. I returned numerous times on business and to see the Indy 500.

My first wife died in 1996. During one of my travels through Indianapolis in 2000 to play golf, I phoned the widow of a good friend from my earlier days here. We had dinner a few days afterward and married a year later.

Our city and state face many challenging problems that we must resolve, but we are vibrant with top-notch cultural and sports activities for all. I am very happy to be back in My Indiana.

By Jane Guernsey, Indianapolis

What entertained a child on Saturday nights during the summer of 1940? This was before television or play stations. At dusk the main street was blocked off; families carried lawn chairs and sat in the street to wait patiently until nightfall for a free movie sponsored by local businesses.

Black and white movies were shown and acoustics were primitive but the westerns were exciting. There was always a cartoon and a serial that had a "cliffhanger" to be continued. We didn't miss the next Saturday.

During a long intermission between reels of the main feature, we hurried to stores to select treats. The clerks sold all kinds of candy, including several pieces for a penny. A favorite was "Guess What," which included a prize. Of course, an old standby was Powerhouse for a nickel. On hot summer evenings, a Nehi and an RC Cola were favorites. Ice cream cones were made to accommodate two large dips of ice cream.

Only small children slept through these evenings. What a joy for everyone to have an evening's entertainment with only a nickel or dime spent.

By Raymond Featherstone Jr., Indianapolis

It was the summer of 1946 and the neighborhood grapevine was as hot as a two-dollar pistol on the Fourth of July. Word had it that Johnny was back in town. We were told the celebrity had not been in Naptown since before World War II, but the next weekend he was coming to our corner drugstore at East 54th Street and College Avenue.

When the big day finally arrived, I jumped on my Schwinn and pedaled the two blocks to Haag's drugstore to join in the fun.

By the time I arrived, a large crowd had assembled. Many neighbors and school chums were there, along with several merchants. There was Shotzy from the Pure Oil Station, Jim from Sanders' Barber Shop, and Big Al from Scheefer's Dry Cleaners.

Who was Johnny? He was the diminutive walking ad for Philip Morris cigarettes, always dressed in his natty red and black bellboy uniform. His shrill radio cry, "Call for Philip Morri-i-is!" was as familiar to us kids as the Lone Ranger's famous "Hi-Yo, Silver, Awa-a-ay!"

By the time I got there, Johnny was passing out sample packages of Phillip Morris cigarettes to admiring adults and giving his famous cry.

After signing a few autographs and posing for photos, he was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Driving by what is now the Jazz Kitchen brings back pleasant memories of that day so long ago when Johnny was back in town.

By Kathleen Madinger Angelone, Indianapolis

Holidays at our house included Christmas, Easter, Halloween and Election Day. As a precinct committeeman, my father was responsible for securing a polling place. Since our precinct had no public buildings, the elections were held in our basement garages.

Preparations for the big day included polling the precinct with my mother, recording the results in huge books to be delivered Downtown, and cleaning the house and garages.
The festivities commenced with the arrival of the election machines. My brother and I watched the workers prepare for the election and read the candidates' names.

Mom also cooked for the precinct workers, preparing big scrambled-egg breakfasts and chili lunches. After school, my brother and I distributed campaign literature. Our father was generally on the ballot for precinct committeeman and state representative. I didn't understand why some people objected to my suggestion that they vote for my father twice.

The flyer I remember most vividly asked people to make Pat first lady. I had trouble comprehending that notion since Pat Nixon was not anywhere on the ballot.

"Bruce for Congress" flyers and posters were my brother's favorites. Although they supported the election of Donald Bruce to the U.S. Congress, my brother Bruce pretended they were for him. One of the posters hung on his bedroom door until 1968.
One year, the election was on my mother's birthday, Nov. 6. That year Dad ordered a birthday cake that we shared with many of her friends after the polls closed. We watched the returns on TV and particularly enjoyed the tallies of Dad's re-election to the Indiana House of Representatives. He, of course, went Downtown to the Republican election night gathering.

Since then, I've voted in every election.

I've been a newspaper runner, clerk, inspector and challenger. I cannot imagine not exercising my franchise. I hope everyone votes.