Page 8 - Demo

6expertise of my Dad repairing typewriters and the creativity of Uncle Conrad in his bakery.Back then (the early 1950s), there were no chain stores in Fowler (except the IGA), and many of the local citizens owned their own businesses. There was Cy the druggist, Fuzzy the lawyer, Joe the barber, and Johnny the junk man. But there were also people who worked for someone else%u2014the gray-haired lady who clerked at the dime store, the friendly man who sold tickets at the theater, Walt and Tom the town%u2019s two cops, and Grandpa Mendy, who delivered mail on a circuitous rural route that wound through the Indiana countryside, and even dipped into Illinois.It was an era when each town was unique, and every business had its own special character. Fowler, like many small towns, was fairly selfsufficient. You could do your banking, buy a suit, fresh produce, an oak dresser, or a new automobile. There was a theater, a hotel, and a small medical clinic. Because it wasn%u2019t a big place, many people walked the few blocks from their homes to work. A few citizens actually lived right where they made a living. Up until a few years before I was born, Mom%u2019s parents operated Dowell%u2019s Cafe, residing in the walk-up apartment directly above it. In the midst of my childhood, we moved to Lafayette, a medium-sized Hoosier town. Mom and Dad believed it had more to offer than Fowler and, in many ways, it did. There were 5 theaters from which to choose and 2 drive-ins, more restaurants, a larger city park, and many streets and neighborhoods to explore. There were factories that produced wire (Peerless), gears (Fairfield), aluminum extrusions (Alcoa), jigsaw puzzles (Warren Paper) and prefab houses (National Homes).At that time, Lafayette%u2019s downtown was vital and dynamic%u2014filled with all manner of businesses housed in 2-, 3-, and 4-story brick and stone buildings. A few were chains such as Kresge%u2019s and Montgomery Ward. There was Loeb%u2019s Department Store (with the only escalator in town), Reifer%u2019s Furniture (with its neon rocking-chair sign that actually rocked), and McHaley Army Surplus. There were over a dozen clothing stores (including Three Sisters for women and the Baltimore for men), as well as jewelers, taverns, drug stores, banks, hotels%u2014and five cigar stores. Many of these enterprises were owned by local folk. But even then, the times, they were a-changing.When we moved to Lafayette, Dad set up his typewriter business, not downtown, but in Lafayette%u2019s first shopping center, Mar-Jean Village, a basic strip named for the developer%u2019s two daughters, Marge and Jean. Within just a few years, he moved again%u2014to the more expansive, and beautifully landscaped, Market Square, when it opened in 1958. With Mom%u2019s input, lines of gifts, greeting cards, and party supplies were added, along with a classier name%u2014Bower%u2019s of Market Square. Today, both Fowler and Lafayette are quite different places than they were in my boyhood. As with many smaller communities, most of Fowler%u2019s businesses are now just memories. The town%u2019s population has remained fairly stable, but it%u2019s been quite a while since the downtown was a thriving center of commerce. There are several vacant lots where stores once stood, Dad%u2019s old typewriter shop among them. It was razed decades ago.Unlike Fowler, Lafayette%u2014like many midsized towns%u2014has grown and sprawled out into the surrounding countryside. But, despite it%u2019s vibrancy, many of the new businesses are chains and franchises. Loeb%u2019s Department Store is gone, and Reifer%u2019s went out of business long ago%u2014its rocking-chair sign removed. Three of the theaters from my childhood no longer exist, and the other two quit showing movies. The downtown has