From Naptown to Indy
It's amazing how a city can change in 50 years.
I grew up on the north side of Indianapolis. From the age of seven until I went off to college, my family lived on Pennsylvania Street, in a leafy neighborhood that, amazingly, has barely changed in a half-century.
The Carroll family in 1967. I'm the guy in the middle.
After my siblings and I moved away, my parents built a house in the northern suburbs. I returned to Indianapolis many times for family visits, but after my parents died a few years ago, my sisters and I no longer had a compelling reason to visit our home town. Determined not to lose touch with our roots, we resolved to spend a week's vacation in a rented house near the center of the city. It was a chance to revisit some of our old haunts, reunite with old friends, and get a sense of how the city might have changed—for better or worse.
Our week in Indianapolis is documented below in what one might call a hybrid of personal reminiscence, guided tour, and state-of-the-city report.
In 1969 I graduated from Shortridge High School, a mile-and-a-half south of us on Meridian Street. Shortridge looked like this back in the 1930s:
Postcard images are from the Indianapolis Public Library's Digital Indy Collection
It looked much the same when I was a student, and it looks pretty much the same today.
Shortridge High. All photos by the author
Shortridge's most famous alumnus was Kurt Vonnegut, depicted here on a downtown mural. Vonnegut graduated 29 years before I did. Here's what he wrote about Shortridge:
"...my God, we had a daily paper, we had a debating team, had a fencing team. We had a chorus, a jazz band, a serious orchestra. And all this with a Great Depression going on. And I wanted everybody to have such a school."
I don't recall a jazz band, but the Shortridge Daily Echo was still publishing when I was a student. I gained my first journalism experience there—although "journalism" is perhaps too dignified a term for the trivial gossip I documented as co-author of a sophomore social column.
Vonnegut was a familiar name in Indianapolis even before Kurt gained notoriety as a novelist. His family owned a local chain of hardware stores—the kind with creaking wood floors, narrow aisles crammed with merchandise, and employees who knew every item in the stores' infinite inventory.
Through the eyes of a bored 18-year-old, Indianapolis in the late 1960s was—dull. We used to call it "Naptown" and "India-no-place." Naptown briefly woke up during the month of May, in an elaborate build-up to the Indianapolis 500.
Home of the Indy 500.
Time trials took place during weekends prior to the race. There was a parade through the center of town. And checkered flags were everywhere, a tradition that continues today (look for them in the photos that follow). My brother and I would stage faux 500s in the turnaround behind our house, recruiting neighborhood kids and using bikes, skateboards, tricycles, and roller skates as race cars.
After Memorial Day weekend, after Race Day, the city would once again nod off. Downtown after 6:30 p.m. on a weekday evening might easily have been mistaken for a post-nuclear evacuation zone. Teen crowds would briefly form at local hamburger stands after high-school basketball games, but would disperse well before parents grew concerned. The summer months were especially somnolent until late August, when the city would briefly regain consciousness for the Indiana State Fair.
The Indy 500, despite some lean years in the 1980s and 90s, remains for many race fans "the greatest spectacle in racing," as the radio announcer used to say. Its star competitors' names have a distinctly more cosmopolitan ring these days: gone are the A.J. Foyts and Roger Wards; enter the Pagenauds and Satos, the Rossis and the Franchittis.
Indy 500
The Indianapolis Motor Speedway's two-and-a-half-mile oval hasn't moved since its founding in 1911, but the era when the 500 was its sole event is long gone. Now the track hosts NASCAR's Brickyard 400 as well as Formula One, Grand Prix, motorcycle racing, and other spectacles.
In the very center of Indianapolis is Monument Circle, featuring the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, an elaborately-ornamented memorial to the heroes of multiple conflicts, among them the Civil War, Spanish-American War, the Mexican-American War, and the Revolutionary War.
Soldiers and Sailors Monument
Dedicated in 1902, the Monument was the belated culmination of a plan wrought by Samuel Ralston in 1821, five years after Indiana gained statehood. Ralston was a Scottish surveyor who had assisted Pierre L'Enfant in the laying out of Washington, DC. The Circle was to have been the place of residence of the governor of Indiana, an idea conceived in an era when privacy was apparently of less concern than today. The Monument is a fitting occupant of its prominent site, beloved by locals and proudly pinning the city to the map, despite its now being dwarfed by nearby high-rises.
Ralston's square mile
Ralston conceived a mile-square grid, punctuated at its core by the circle, and graced with four diagonal avenues.
Naptown in 1960
In 1960 Ralston's plan remained largely intact, but the street grid had expanded vastly beyond the mile square.
The map is a detail from a 1960 Shell Oil street guide of Indianapolis, published by the H.M. Gousha Company (in those days, gas stations handed out maps free of charge).
The map, aquired on eBay, brings back vivid memories. As a teenager I liked to take long bike rides, and, being a budding cartophile, I used a red pen to record every street I had conquered—on this exact edition of the Shell Indianapolis street map. I turned at least half of Naptown's north side red.
Indy today
Late-20th-century mega-developments interrupted Ralston's radiating streets, especially to the southwest, where a hotel, convention center, and football stadium were plopped down atop the former avenue.
The most profound change was the construction of Interstates 65 and 70, which wrap, noose-like, around downtown. During the 1960s and 70s, hundreds of homes were demolished to make way for expressways and interchanges that badly tore the city's fabric.
Interstate 70 interrupts the Fountain Square neighborhood
The portion of the highway near Virginia Avenue, southeast of the circle, is below grade; north of downtown, though, Interstate 65 is elevated, creating an even more disastrous barrier.
I-65 and North Meridian Street
Inner city neighborhood front yards are peppered these days with colorful "Rethink" signs:
Rethink 65/70 is a citizen movement advocating to salve the wounds inflicted on the city by the highway engineers. It calls for a below-grade roadway, whose impact would be softened by landscaping, bike and transit lanes, and overhanging structures that would partially hide the highway.
It's an ambitious plan that has already suffered setbacks. But, thanks to the grass-roots movement, officials are no longer considering traffic as the sole issue in weighing options for renovating the aging highway network.
Back in the pre-Interstate era, my dad's workplace was in a prime location: corner office on the second floor of an Art Deco masterpiece called the Circle Tower Building. Amazingly, the building remains largely intact.
Circle Tower Building circa 1950 and today. Postcard from the Indianapolis Public Library's Digital Indy Collection
Above the building's front doors looms an Egyptian-revival metalwork grill. The tomb of King Tut had been discovered only a few years before the building was completed, and Egyptian motifs were much the style. The polished brass elevator doors depict muscular laborers pulling levers, lifting loads, and yanking pulleys.
My dad's office is now part of a hair salon. Its owner, Kevin, gave me a tour. When I told him the reason for my visit, he said "He worked for Thompson & McKinnon, right?" He explained that when the light is right he can make out remnants of the brokerage firm's name on the windows. My family used to sit beneath this arch to watch the Indy 500 parade.
Monument Circle from the Circle Tower Building
By the way, when I was growing up in Indianapolis no one called it "Indy." No one. Many locals slurred the name: "Ind-un-appls." But "Indy" was taboo.
This is what downtown Indianapolis looked like in the 1960s and 1970s. Intruding on the modest skyline were two or three boxy high-rises, one a government building (City-County Building in the foreground, Indiana National Bank behind it), and an arena for the Indiana Pacers—since torn down and replaced. The fringes of downtown were mostly a sea of asphalt parking lots. Beyond that, small businesses, aging industrial plants, and gap-toothed lower-income neighborhoods, where many of the old homes had been condemned and razed.
Riley Towers in 1962 and today. Postcard (left) from the Indianapolis Public Library's Digital Indy Collection
A brave, early effort to bring residents into the inner city came in the form of the Riley Towers, completed in 1962. The apartments' developers had ambitions to build 10 towers of 30 stories each, but demand proved inadequate, and the project never moved beyond its first phase.
A second precursor to downtown revival also began in the 1960s, as people started to renovate homes in the historic neighborhood of Lockerbie Square, a mile or so east of downtown. Laid out in the mid-19th century, its cottage-style homes proved attractive to urban pioneers—despite the roaring presence, just to the east, of Interstate 70. One of the grander structures in the neighborhood belonged to James Whitcomb Riley, "the Hoosier poet," famed for his saccharine, nostalgic verses depicting rural life in Indiana. The Riley Towers bear his name.
Lockerbie cottages; Right: James Whitcomb Riley Home
In spring 2019 my sisters and I rented a house in Fountain Square, a neighborhood southeast of downtown that had barely crossed our radar when we were growing up. We had heard that it was undergoing a revival, so it was an obvious choice for a place from which to gain a new perspective on our old home town.
Family portrait at our rented Fountain Square home-for-a-week
Over the years we had had occasional glimpses, during family visits, of the city's revitalization. But during the week's exploration we discovered a city that was radically different from the one we had known as kids.
Fountain Square had sprung to life, with hundreds of homes renovated and repainted in bright hues. Vacant lots were now occupied with angular, modern homes. 20th-century commercial blocks of brick and terra cotta were were reborn as coffee shops, boutiques, and microbreweries.
Fountain Square scenes
All these amenities, this sense of rebirth, and the feel of a vibrant residential and entertainment community, were within a ten-minute bike ride of the Circle. In fact, we had a panoramic view of downtown from the upstairs porch of our temporary home.
Just as we had hoped, Fountain Square proved to be the ideal starting point for multiple excursions across the city—visiting museums, dining out, and catching up with old friends of our parents who had become close friends of ours.
Exploring downtown Indy
Among our excursions was a pair of outings, on foot and cycle via Indy's bike share program, of a bicycle and pedestrian path called the Indianapolis Cultural Trail. Starting point was the trails' Fountain Square extension (lower right) paralleling Virginia Avenue, one of the four diagonal streets laid out by Samuel Ralston.
Information and maps can be found at the Cultural Trail's website .
Virginia Avenue
Once we endured the Interstate overpass, we encountered a little hipster heaven. Among the many shops and eateries:
Chilly Water Brewing Company is one of dozens of breweries and brew pubs in and around the central city.
Just up the street is Amelia's , locally renowned for delicious pastries and fresh bread.
Milktooth serves up sublime, imaginative breakfasts in a festively converted garage space.
Final approach
A few blocks farther up Virginia Avenue, trail walkers emerge from beneath a parking structure to encounter this view of the downtown skyline, with the Soldiers and Sailors Monument nested jauntily among the office buildings.
Indiana Theatre
The trail parallels Washington Street—U.S. 40—also known as the National Road, one of the nation's earliest east-west arteries. It runs a half-block south of the Circle, and soon encounters the Indiana Repertory Theater, housed in a renovated movie palace. When I was a kid the theatre hosted wide-screen "Cinerama" films. I saw "How the West was Won" and "The Sound of Music" here. I also went to my junior prom at the Indiana Roof, a ballroom decorated like a Moorish town square that still hosts events atop the old theatre.
Westward expansion
The area west of the Indiana State Capitol used to be a no-man's-land of aging industrial structures, as this postcard, dating from about 1975, shows.
Also visible in the postcard: the old Washington Street bridge across White River. The span is now a pedestrian link; Washington Street has been relocated to the south to accommodate the Indianapolis Zoo (left in the accompanying satellite view)—which didn't yet exist when I was growing up.
To the right in the postcard is the flattened marshmallow of the Hoosier Dome, former home of the Indianapolis Colts following their infamous midnight desertion of Baltimore. The Colts now play in the gargantuan Lucas Oil Stadium, which looms over the south side. Not far from it is the delightful Victory Field, home of the Indianapolis Indians minor league baseball team. Follow the river north and you might find the old Victory Field, where my family watched July 4th double-headers (with fireworks between games). The stands have been imaginatively renovated as the Stadium Lofts —apartments with views of the playing field.
Above the bend in the river is the sprawling campus of Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, where 37,000 students seek knowledge and job skills. Local residents shorten the tongue-twister name to IUPUI, pronounced, oddly, "oo-ee-POO-ee."
Museum row
Walking or biking westward on the Cultural Trail leads to White River State Park and a trio of cultural institutions.
Starting on the east, the Eiteljorg Museum hosts an impressive collection of native and Western art.
School buses queue up at the Indiana State Museum , which features "unique exhibits and hands-on experiences that showcase the stories, events and characters that have helped shape Indiana’s history."
Finally, the NCAA Hall of Champions has interactive exhibits, artifacts, and videos featuring two dozen NCAA sports. It's adjacent to the headquarters offices of the National Collegiate Athletic Association.
Canal Walk
At this point the Indianapolis Cultural Trail splits, with a portion heading north and east along "Canal Walk Indy," the city's answer to Venice, Italy.
Canal Walk Indy and the downtown skyline
Remnants of the Indiana Central Canal, a failed 19th-century venture to connect Lake Erie with the Ohio River, slice diagonally through the north side of Indianapolis. The downtown terminus has been developed into a gracious complex of apartments, restaurants, fountains, and playgrounds that are enjoyed by people and waterfowl alike.
Mama and ducklings
Workers maintain a canal-side playground sponsored by the Indianapolis Colts football organization.
Eastbound
The Cultural Trail turns eastward toward Meridian Street, the city's main north-south artery, and an axis of parks, monuments, and public buildings that bring green, open space into the central city.
Library
At the parks' northern terminus is the main branch of the Indianapolis Public Library. The original, neoclassical building connects to a modern addition via a soaring atrium.
Plazas and memorials
The library steps offer a view southward across the American Legion Mall toward the massive Indiana World War Memorial, visible behind the flag and in front of the modern skyscraper.
Indianapolis landmarks
The War Memorial houses a small auditorium, but is little used by locals. Its interior, though, features a dramatic, dim-lit, tomb-like shrine honoring Hoosiers who fell in the supposed War to End All Wars.
The flag in the foreground was at half-staff because Indiana Senator Richard Lugar had died just before our visit. Lugar was mayor of Indianapolis from 1968 to 1976, and championed "UniGov," which united the city and county governments, spurring efficiencies and boosting economic development. Lugar was first in a line of progressive mayors who played significant roles in the city's revitalization.
Mass Ave
The Trail continues east toward the Massachusetts Avenue arts corridor, past a doorway that, during 500 Festival Month, was festooned with checkered flags.
Tavern at the Point is one of many watering holes along Massachusetts Avenue, which is also crowded with restaurants and art galleries.
Mass Ave landmarks
Three buildings of significance to the community share lower Massachusetts Avenue locations. The Murat Temple has an ornate theater that, many years ago, played host to the Indianapolis Symphony. I attended concerts there as a child with my diminutive but garrulous grandmother.
Murat Temple. Note the new apartment building.
Across the way is the Athenaeum, long a gathering place for the German-American community. Indianapolis was a destination for many German immigrants in the first part of the 20th century. Among my grade school teachers were Mr. Buckheister, Miss Nackenhorst, and Mr. Winzenread.
The Athenaeum
Finally, Stout's Footwear has occupied its Mass Ave site since 1886 and, miraculously, has survived into the e-commerce age. A Stout daughter (or great-grand-daughter?) was a friend of mine at Shortridge High School.
City Market
A historic landmark on the east side of downtown, and adjacent to the Cultural Trail, is the Indianapolis City Market (the green roof in the satellite image). The building was completed the same year that Stout's opened its doors.
The Market has spurred nearby development, including a Whole Foods Market, high-rise apartments, and additional mixed-use construction a block farther east.
From here it was a short return trip to our home base in Fountain Square.
For block after block, particularly in the first mile or two north of downtown, hundreds of early-20th-century houses have been lovingly renovated.
Formerly vacant lots now boast new homes that either echo the styles of their older neighbors or are unabashedly modern. It's exciting to see my home town come to life in this way. But inner-city gentrification comes at a cost, as many cities have experienced.
Income inequality
A map of median household income in the Indianapolis metro area shows that most wealth resides in the suburbs. The city has grown disproportionately northward; wealthy neighborhoods are particularly predominant in the northern part of the city and beyond, including suburbs in neighboring Hamilton County.
Renewal and gentrification in the central city might be an indication that the "hole in the doughnut" is starting to fill. But are lower-income residents benefiting from these changes, or are they being displaced?
Income and race
As with most American cities, income inequality has racial overtones. Comparing household income with percent of African-American households shows that in general, lower-income areas have a higher proportion of black residents.
Transit and schools
Meanwhile, the city's mass transit hasn't kept up with the downtown revival. An attempted remedy that was under construction in spring 2019 is the Red Line , a north-south bus route that will feature dedicated bus lanes, all-electric vehicles, and street-center loading platforms.
Public education in Indianapolis also has continuing challenges. In 2018, only 20 percent of Indianapolis public school students passed the English and math portions of standardized tests, among the lowest success rates in Indiana.
In his latter years, my dad was a passionate advocate for the Charles A. Tindley Accelerated School, a charter school that has expanded into three separate facilities. The school has an impressive record of placing inner-city students into leading colleges and universities. But charter schools remain controversial, and don't provide a comprehensive solution to larger, systemic issues.
Downtown jobs
According to CityLab.com , Indianapolis's downtown employment opportunities haven't matched the growth in housing stock. A hopeful sign is Salesforce's presence in the city. It occupies a quarter-million square feet of space in the city's tallest high-rise, and has plans to continue its growth in the city.
My erstwhile Naptown has followed the pattern of many medium-sized American cities in undergoing a gradual but dramatic downtown renaissance. The city has come to life in ways that my siblings and I could barely envision when we were growing up.
Meanwhile, the nickname taboo is long gone...
"Indy" is now on everyone's tongue. It's a term of endearment, an indicator of pride—and a symbol of the city's eager rush toward a brighter future.
This story map was produced using ArcGIS StoryMaps , which enable creation of rich multimedia narratives—no technical expertise required.
Sources and additional reading
