While traveling to Detroit for a memorial service I touched down in Indiana to visit with my eldest daughter, son-in-law and two of the three grandchildren (The third is in Germany). Many years ago I lived in the northern part of Indiana, but this trip was to Nashville which is south of Indianapolis. The area is gorgeous and to these Western eyes so green you have to squint. There are some impressions that I will share. Also, there are way too many pictures, so I’ll confine my discussion to one historical part of the town.
Here is a photo of the Brown County Historical Society old location. (The new is up the street in a new building) It is a community building built around the 1830’s.
One other building built around the same time is the jail. Seems that whenever people congregate there are some that can’t follow the rules.
This next photo is of the interior of the jail. The walls are almost a foot thick, and there are two cells. One on the main floor (pictured) and one on the top floor.
This next photo demonstrates two things about this part of the country. 1. How modest the people are in requesting funds. A twenty-five cent donation? 2. How un-politically correct the curators are in warning you about the buildings condition. The sign warns that the buildings are not up to code and never will be.
Here is the blacksmith’s shop. A view outside and inside.
The stool is not a period piece. I think the smithy has a tender butt.
No town would be complete without the doctor’s office and apothecary. Given the building’s architecture, one could argue the doc was from back East.
This next photo also tells a little about the mindset of the people of Indiana. They have an incredible level of honesty, and it is reflected in the trust of others to be the same.
The final photo is of the covered Bean Blossom Bridge. It was built in the 1880’s and is still functional.
The area around the bridge is so quiet and serene it would be a perfect place to contemplate the next novel. Looking down the slow-moving creek played idly against the banks and the small trout could be seen darting from one flat rock to another. Time could stand still. Next stop Willoughby.