Page 9 - Demo

7This could not be! I was being given a girl%u2019s locker? Protesting, with logic formed from a mere half-decade of life, I explained that I wouldn%u2019t be able to remember Little Bo Peep. However, I was quite certain I could memorize the decal on the adjacent locker%u2014that of Little Boy Blue with his nifty horn. The teacher just smiled. She was confident I%u2019d be able to remember the bonneted little girl with the wayward sheep. In any case, she said, the locker assignments had already been duly recorded%u2014in ink%u2014in her official notebook. Having a girl%u2019s locker was a horrible stigma, but after a few days I managed to get used to it.The next year, I entered first grade at Fowler%u2019s Sacred Heart School, but I wasn%u2019t there for long. Just before Christmas, my family moved to Lafayette, and I received the rest of my elementary education at St. Mary%u2019s. My grade-school memories are pretty spotty, but I can still picture the chrome-plated, domeshaped bell with the button on top which sat, regally, on each nun%u2019s desk. It was rung to get our attention, and it always did. And I can almost smell the pungent, red, absorbent powder Mr. Feeney, our janitor, sprinkled on kids%u2019 vomit%u2014something he had to do two or three times a month. I remember half-pint, glass milk bottles; translucent fountain pens with replaceable, plastic ink cartridges; the clanging bell that rang during fire drills, or whenever a prankster thought he could get away with it (and no one ever could); and the pancake-shaped, brass pitch pipe the music teacher optimistically tooted before each song. I also recall making up sins while standing in line outside the wooden confessional in the Cathedral next door, admiring the priest%u2019s golden chalice and ciborium during Mass, inhaling the distinctive aroma of candles and incense, listening to the tinkling of bells and the droning %u201cPray for us%u201d of litanies, and being lost in daydreams while bathed in brilliant multicolored light descending from tall, arched, stainedglass windows. Many of the churches, schools, and municipal structures that helped mold us have had fates we could not have predicted. For me, St. Mary%u2019s Cathedral, and its school, live on, but the congregation of Grandma Mendy%u2019s Methodist Church has moved elsewhere. The Fowler High School where I attended Kindergarten is now an empty gravel lot, but the courthouses I grew up with in Benton and Tippecanoe County have both been meticulously maintained. My first public library, in Fowler, still resides in its original Carnegie building, but the Wells Library I patronized in Lafayette has become a community center. I also recall the one-lane, iron, Brown Street Bridge spanning the Wabash River, and Columbian Park%u2019s Monkey Island%u2014a hand-crafted, miniature, moated castle erected during the Great Depression%u2014both now demolished.As you wander through the following pages, you%u2019ll see structures that were built to support, benefit, and enhance society, from all across Indiana. Most have outlived their usefulness but they do still exist%u2014some barely%u2014as partial remains, or in use for other purposes. There are simple, clapboard-sided country churches, as well as colossal ornate ones that could no longer support a dwindling congregation. There are modest one-room brick schoolhouses, and once-stately high schools that were left behind when school districts were consolidated. There are jails, military installations, and buildings that were, in earlier times, vital components of local, county, or state government. And there are the remnants of utilities that once provided our communities with water or electricity. All dedicated to the common good, they have served us well.Speaking of serving us well, I%u2019d like to sincerely thank Indiana%u2019s former 9th District Congressman, Lee Hamilton, for contributing the Foreword to this book. He has truly devoted his life to the common good, and his moving words are an important and thought-provoking addition to these pages.John Bower