Home Alone Redux

“You bomb me with one more can, kid, and I’ll snap off your cajones and boil them in motor oil.” Harry (Joe Pesci) to 8-year-old Kevin (Macaulay Culkin) in “Home Alone” (1990)

Adria-Joi Jackson from Evanston and Miriam Espinal from Spain at Jackson home; photos by Kyle Telechan

I thought of “Home Alone” when reading about the Maxwell family renting the lame sequel from Blockbuster in Stewart O’Nan’s “Henry Himself.”  Despite the unlikely premise, the original had its comic moments, as well as a few comments (the reference to snapping off a kid’s balls, for one) and scary scenes that earned the film a PG rating.  Michael Jackson befriended child star Macaulay Culkin, who stayed at Neverland Ranch numerous times, often sharing a bed with the pop icon. He steadfastly claims Michael was never sexually inappropriate and apparently is Paris Jackson’s godfather.Crowds gathered at Michael’s childhood home in Gary to commemorate the tenth anniversary of his tragic drug-induced death.

Home alone for the weekend as Toni went with Dave and Angie to attend Becca’s recital at the University of Cincinnati, I took the opportunity to invite James to lunch.  When we arrived at the Portage Steak and Shake, we found it shut down, according to local scuttlebutt, by the Board of Health. We settled for a nearby Culver’s, our favorite destination after bowling.  I got a kids meal for $5.99 that included a scoop of frozen custard topped with chocolate syrup for desert.  James asked if we could swing by Game Stop and emerged with Super Mario Maker 2, which, he explained, allows the operator to set the preferred level of difficulty.   It was the first day the video game was for sale.  I asked James if the place sold board games; the answer was no although James reported that young people still participate in role-playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons.

I interviewed Lori Montalbano for IU’s Bicentennial project.  The youngest of seven who attended Warren G. Harding School in Hesville (made famous by Jean Shepherd) and then Hammond Morton, Lori was the first in her family to attend college, enrolling at IU Northwest in 1981.  I had thought her name was Mexican, but her dad, who died when she was ten, was Sicilian.  With Reagan in the White House, Pell Grant opportunities evaporated, but financial aid director Leroy Gray put a package together for her.  A theater major with a minor in communication, Lori recalled Garrett Cope, Dorothy Ige, and Jim Tuihuizen as mentors and role models. Forced to take two semesters of Western Civilization, she admitted Rhiman Rotz was formidable but a good teacher, as was Paul Kern, who lectured with no more than a glance at his carefully prepared notes. Awarded a PhD from Southern Illinois University, Lori taught at IUN for 17 years, including in the Women’s Studies program and stints as Communication Department chair and Associate Dean of Arts and Sciences under Dee Dee Ige.  The two co-authored a textbook, “Public Speaking and Responsibility in a Changing World.”  Lori was reluctant to say anything negative about IUN other than to intimate that a glass ceiling existed.  She is presently Dean of Academic and Student Affairs at IUPUI in Columbus.

Megan Rapinoe; Alissa and Josh in foreground

Alissa called during the waning minutes of America’s World Cup match, as the French were trying to tie the score 2-2. Half in jest, I admitted hoping they succeeded (call me unpatriotic).  Co-captain Megan Rapinoe announced she’d turn down a White House visit if the Americans won the World Cup.  Go girl! Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez invited her and teammates to tour Congress instead.   Alissa sent a photo of members of her soccer team, including hubby Josh and poppa Phil. A rainbow is in the background.

Avi Gupta won the JeopardyTeen Tournament after surviving a tiebreaker in the semifinal round.  He and Jackson Jones each finished with $39,200.  The extra category was American History, and the clue was, “Types of it you could find in Boston Harbor on December 16, 1773 included souchong and bohea.”  As easy as the answer, tea, was, I’m certain Jackson knew it, but Avi buzzed in first.  On day two all three finalists knew Final Jeopardy, an Ancient Lore question about Lancelot and Camelot, but the others couldn’t catch Gupta. 

The Sports Illustrated“Where Are They Now?” issue with nattily-dressed Alex Rodriguez on the cover included a montage of stars from 50 years ago, including Arnold Palmer, Joe Frazier, Joe Namath, Hank Aaron, and O.J. Simpson – all senior citizens now if still on the right side of the grass, as bowling teammate Terry Kegebein likes to say.  In Rolling Stoneveteran moviemaker John Waters, whose films include such gems as “Pink Flamingos” (1972) and “Hairspray” (1988), claimed that the secret to aging gracefully is staying away from nude beaches.  He declared: “If you go to the gym every day, people still don’t want to see you nude at 70.”Claiming that political correctness can go too far, Waters, a frequent guest on HBO’s “Real Time with Bill Maher,” said: “When I hear about ‘theybies,’ where you don’t tell your child what sex they are until they decide, I had to roll my eyes.  Give me a break.  That child will be in a psychiatric unit early.”  Maybe, maybe not.

 John Waters

posted by Anne Koehler

Without mentioning Trump by name, Pete Buttigieg told a Rolling Stonecorrespondent, “It is the nature of grotesque things that you can’t look away.”  Attending a G20 summit in Osaka, Japan (In 1994 I flew in and out of Kansai International Airport for a speaking engagement in nearby Kyoto arranged by colleague Roberta Wollons), Trump met with pal Putin, who declared liberalism obsolete and in its death throes.  When a reporter asked a beaming Trump whether he planned to bring up Russian meddling in the 2020 election, he smiled and repeated question to a smirking Putin smirked, who said of course not.  Ha, ha, ha. Trump couldn’t resist tweeting about the Democratic Presidential debates, pronouncing them “BORING!”  He prefers bombast and ridicule to serious policy discussions. After Jimmy Carter asserted that Russian meddling determined the 2016 election outcome, Trump called him a poor president.  Reporters should press him on why he thinks so.

I have to admit I fell asleep both evenings after the first hour but caught the highlights on “Morning Joe.” Elizabeth Warren’s strident style attracted attention, as did Kamala Harris confronting Joe Biden, claiming he opposed school bussing during the 1970s (only forced, not voluntary, he countered).  While Bernie Sanders, Warren, and Harris enunciated valid arguments, the electorate, I believe, seeks restoration of civility, not revolution.  The most poignant moment was when Rachel Maddow asked Pete Buttigieg about the worsening race relations in South Bend in the wake of a white cop shooting a black man, and the Mayor replied, “I couldn’t get it done.” What a powerful admission that politicians cannot solve every problem.  I’m still for Amy Klobuchar and either Buttigieg or Julian Castro as her running-mate; all three acted more Presidential than pretentious Beto O’Rourke and Cory Booker, who showed off their knowledge of Spanish.  Klobuchar reminded voters of her Midwestern roots, where the general election will be won or lost, and that the women on the stage had been fighting for women’s rights longer than many Johnny-come-latelies. Biden is still paying dearly for disrespecting Anita Hill decades ago.  Ray Smock wrote: 

    Joe Biden took it on the chin from Kamala Harris's attack on Joe's comments about working with segregationists in the past. She took a good shot and it worked in the glare of the TV lights. Today, in news coverage around the nation she stands out as a "winner" of this preliminary encounter. This may be a good indicator of her rise in the polls, but I will reserve judgment about the long-range importance of this exchange. 

    [California Congressman] Eric Swalwell, who I admire for his work on the House Intelligence and Judiciary committees investigating Trump, and his public efforts to educate the public about Trump's transgressions, fell flat in my opinion for his attempt to grab the torch from Joe Biden's generation. Pass the Torch, he said. Give his generation a chance. This campaign may turn out to be a generational feud.  Joe Biden is one of the politicians I have admired since he first entered politics. His is a remarkable, positive career and it is still ongoing. Joe's age shows in this kind of rapid fire, gotcha TV reality contest that our debates represent. His experience, his character, his knowledge of government would be an asset in the White House. It would be an asset in his knowledge of the world and its leaders. It would be a tremendous asset in uniting his own party and bringing unity to the nation. Without unity, without defusing political extremism, the Harrises and the Swalwells will not be able to get things done. Trump proved that emotion alone can elect a president. But all he had was hate and division. 

    Whoever gets the Democratic Party nomination should be a healer, a unifier, not just a new brand of fiery rhetoric carrying a new red hot torch that fizzles and goes dark in a divided nation.

Anne Tyler’s 2018 novel “Clock Dance” about a 61-year-old woman provides vignettes about her early life.  Willa’s temperamental mother sarcastically called her father St. Melvin, similar to Toni branding me St. James when I become self-righteous.  Her younger sister became a rebellious teenager whose eyes in 1977 “were so heavily outlined in blush that she resembled a pileated woodpecker.”A poster in her bedroom read “Nobody for President.”  Willa’s son wanted to quit school and hitchhike around the country to meet people. Her self-indulgent husband died in an auto accident driving recklessly in anger. Twenty years later, Willa (named for lesbian Willa Cather, one wonders, whose forte was depicting loneliness) receives a call that lures her to Baltimore to care for a girl that someone mistakenly thought was her granddaughter.  Remarried to an overbearing man and bored with life in Tuscan, she is ready for a change of scenery.  Tyler writes: “She knows the world, which has largely ignored her, expects her now to coast along that deferential rut into oblivion.”  Aware her time clock was ticking, she had always conformed but now was open to adventure, ready to dance.

NY Knicks Barnett, Frazier, Bradley, DeBusschere, Reed in April 1970

New York Knicks fan Spike Lee’s memoir “Best Seat in the House” lists his favorite teams as the 1970 and 1972 NBA champs, regarded by many as representing the American melting pot.  Knick players included Princeton blueblood (and future Senator) Bill Bradley, sons of immigrants Dave DeBusschere and Mike Riordon, plus, in Lee’s words, “the brothers, ranging from deep southern rural to Midwestern to Chicago slick to Gary, Indiana, hard.”  These included Earl “The Pearl” Monroe, Willis Reed, Walt “Clyde” Frazier (Lee’s favorite) and Gary Roosevelt grad Dick “Skull” Barnett. By 1978, when Phil Jackson left to play for a rival, there were hardly any white players left, causing racists to label the team the “Niggerbockers.”

 E'Traun Moore basketball camp photos by Kale Wilk

IUN coaches Javier Heredia and Eric Roldan participated in E’Twaun Moore’s summer basketball camp at East Chicago Central, by now an annual tradition.  So did 6-foot-11 Angel Garcia, who starred on the 2007 championship Cardinals with Moore and Kawann Short.  NWI Timesreporter James Boyd wrote that the New Orleans Pelicans guard wowed the kids demonstrating his typical shooting warmup, draining 9 straight 3-pointers, including one from nearly half court.  Kids begged Moore to dunk the ball, but he deferred to professional dunk artist Jordan Southernland.  Boyd wrote: “Southerland pulled off a variety of rim-rocking jams and ended his showing by jumping over former E.C. Central center Garcia, who stands 6-foot-11, and nine participants.”
                                                        Gabrielle Frigo at IUN graduation 

Simone De Beauvoir photos by Art Shay

At Miller Beach Aquatorium Nelson Algren Museum director Sue Rutson hosted a French-themed event that included Eve Bottando as Simone De Beauvoir, George Rogge as Father Marquette, French champagne and buffet, plus talks on French-American engineer Octave Chanute and novelist (and Miller summer resident) Algren’s relationship with French feminist De Beauvoir and African-American émigré to France Richard Wright.  One presenter showed nude photos of Simone that Algren buddy Art Shay took after she’d showered. She sun-bathed in the nude, scandalizing some neighbors, and never closed the bathroom door.  A free spirit, Simone sun-bathed in the nude, scandalizing some neighbors, titillating others.  I was delighted to discover that recent IUN grad Gabrielle Frigo had received a museum internship.  I told Nancy Cohen that I had heard Gabby (as I know her) recite poetry at a Women’s Studies conference and that she is bright and self-confident.

 Terry Hemmert on XRT float; photo by Marianne Brush

As Pride Month concluded, Chicago’s annual parade attracted record crowds.  The South Shore ran extra trains to and from Northwest Indiana.  Marianne Brush waved at peerless dejay Terry Hemmert, who recently announced her impending retirement, aboard the XRT float.  With her was Lin Brehmer, whose favorite expression is “It’s great to be alive.” I thought of them listening to CDs by Widespread Panic and Night Ranger. Track 6 of Widespread Panic’s “Earth to America” album, which I found at Chesterton library, is “When the Clowns Come Home.” It begins”

One of these days my back won't bend
My fingers might hurt swollen
Live another day, get lucky that way
Sound of thunder when the gods go bowling

I listened to “Eddie’s Comin’ Out Tonight” for homoerotic hints in the Night Ranger song about a guy who “likes to rock it all night long.”Here are the first two verses:

He wears his trousers real tight
And his skin is so white
He lives beyond his means
He wear Italian shoes
. . .

He live a tenderloin life
The street's his type
In the alley's where he's king
He got a grin on his face

Thirty years ago at Sociologist Jack Bloom’s end-of-the-semester party, I danced to an entire Night Ranger album with Phil, Dave, Jimmy Satkoski, and Tom Horvath, and we rocked – at least that’s my memory.

 Kaden Alexander 

Post-Trib columnist Jerry Davich profiled 24-year-old F to M transgender Kaden Alexander, a recent IUN grad who will attend IU Law School in the fall.  The article began:

   Kaden Alexander is so comfortable with his body these days he went to a local nudist resort to hang out while letting it all hang out.

    “I wasn’t any more uncomfortable than the best man from my wedding who went with me,”Alexander said with a smile.

Davich added, unnecessarily, in my opinion: “Alexander has no plans in the near future for gender reassignment surgery to alter his genitals. It’s too expensive, too risky, too complicated, costing tens of thousands of dollars for multiple procedures and revisions.”  Last year Kaden confided that he was uncomfortable attracting attention because intolerant folks might resent his lifestyle, yet he granted Davich permission to photograph him and even provided a picture of when he was 16 and known as Kaitlyn.

Toni was home earlier than expected, and I saw on Angie’s cell phone a number Becca performed a number at musical theater camp in Cincinnati from “Jawbreaker,” based on a 1999 film about three girls who accidently kill the prom queen with hard candy.

Shared Heritage

“Our whole constitutional heritage rebels at the thought of giving government the power to control people’s minds.” Thurgood Marshall

William E. Scott, "Maker of Goblins"; "Night Turtle Fishing in Haiti"

Examining past Traces magazines in search of articles on Northwest Indiana, I came across Arthur S. Meyers’ “Democracy in the Making: Max Bretten and Hammond’s Beth-El Open Forum” in the Winter 1996 issue. Founded in 1924, the Beth-El Open Forum hosted such distinguished speakers as civil rights advocates W.E.B. DuBois and James Weldon Johnson.  That sameTraces issue contained Indianapolis museum curator Harriet G. Warkel’s “A Shared Heritage: The Art of William E. Scott, John W. Hardrick, and Hale A. Woodruff.”  The three African Americans flourished during the New Negro movement of the 1920s and 1930s.  Scott was a renown muralist, Hardrick primarily a portraitist, and Woodriff an Early American Modernist influenced by Cezanne and Picasso, but all three were wary of labels and interested in capturing the dignity of black working class subjects. 

John W. Hardrick, "Little Brown Girl"; "Xenia Goodloe"

I took the 2016 Corolla in for a 35,000-mile check-up and was surprised that it did not require an oil change, an operation that at one time was performed every 3,000 miles.  Now it’s either after 12 months or 10,000 miles.  I was in and out in 30 minutes, as the main task   was tire rotation. The charge was $19.95 for .4 hours labor.

 above, Veronica Napoli; below, The Unwonted, Eric Roldan fifth from left

“Windy Indy,” curated by Ish Muhammad, opened at Gardner Center in Miller. On hand were John Cain,executive director of South Shore Arts, who first hosted the exhibit at the Munster Center.  John introduced me to Valparaiso University geography professor Michael Longan, who is in charge of VU’s Urban Studies minor.  I told him grandson James would be visiting VU’s campus the next day and I’d be speaking in Sociologist Mary Kate Blake’s class in April. Having written an historical essay for the exhibit booklet and attended the “Windy Indy” show in Munster, I was familiar with the works on display but delighted to meet several artists, including members of the Unwonted Collective Eric Roldan and Veronica Napoli, an IUN grad. I told Bobby Farag that recent Archives visitor Peter Mandich Jr. (son of a former Gary mayor) would soon be publishing a book on golf courses.  Mandich once worked for Farag when he managed a golf course.

Saturday I dropped James off at VU’s Mueller Hall, where he learned about Christ College, the university’s honors program, during a five-hour orientation.  Its website states: “Christ College offers an honors environment where faith and learning are cherished, where interdisciplinary education fosters critical thinking, and where virtues such as charity, humility, and courage are nurtured. Students in Christ College find a spirited, inclusive learning community that prepares them to pursue their individual callings.”  While I’m not certain how the program is connected to specific fields of study that James may wish to major in or what role religion plays, VU being a Lutheran school, the program is highly regarded and the interdisciplinary approach one I admire.

I was able to catch most of the IUN men’s basketball game, an exciting one-point win over Silver Lake College.  Two transfer students from Illinois Central College sparked the comeback victory, Chris Dixon-Williams with 16 points and Chris Bolden, whose three-point shot from the corner put the Redhawks ahead late in the game.  To my surprise someone named Eric Roldan was on the Redhawks bench, an assistant to Coach Javier Heridia.  He resembled the Unwonted Collective artist enough for me to bring up the Gardner Center exhibit only to get a puzzled look in return.   After the game Mary Lee thanked me for having given her “Gary: A Pictorial History.”  I asked Vice Chancellor for Student Affairs Alexis Montevirgen, who at halftime had scooped out the popcorn I’d paid a dollar for, whether that was part of his job description.  Earlier, I’d used the same line when assistant athletic director Anna Villanueva was mopping up someone’s spilled drink with towels.

above, Coach Roldan; below, artist Roldan

I finished Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse Five,” which includes a scene where time traveler Billy Pilgrim attends a 1960s seminar on the future of the novel.  One intellectual scoffed that the books would make colorful decorations for rooms with all-white walls; another said novels would provide a platform for artistic descriptions of blow jobs.  Billy Pilgrim found himself an old man in 1968 berated by daughter Barbara for claiming to have been kidnapped by space aliens; Vonnegut wrote poignantly: “It was very exciting for her, taking his dignity away in the name of love.”

I read quite a few novels after graduating from high school in 1960 and subsequent summers while home from Bucknell.  Prior to that, the only books I can recall reading on my own were “Catcher in the Rye” and “Peyton Place.”  Best sellers in 1959 that I eventually read included “Exodus” by Leon Uris, “Hawaii “by James Michener, “Naked Lunch” by William Burroughs, and “Advise and Consent” a political novel by Allen Drury.  The latter centered on Senate confirmation hearings for Secretary of State nominee Robert Leffingwell, who allegedly once had a connection to the Communist Party (a character named Leffingwell appears in the best-selling novel of 1906, “Coniston” by American Winston Churchill). In addition, to discovering John Steinbeck, I enjoyed 1960 novels “To Kill a Mockingbird” by  Harper Lee and John Updike’s “Rabbit Run.”  The following year, J.D. Salinger’s “Franny and Zooey” was the rage on college campuses. 

My first exposure to Calumet Region humorist Jean Shepherd was when Ray Smock gave me “In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash” in 1970 upon learning I’d be teaching in Gary.  In “Wanda Hickey’s Night of Golden Memories and Other Disasters” is Shepherd’s description of the air Hammond residents breathed: “The molten egg smells of the Grasselli Chemical Works mingled with the swamp-gas exhalations of the Sinclair refining plant and the smoldering, metallic miasmas of the blast furnace dust.”  In my Fifties Steel Shavings(volume 23, 1994) I included this excerpt from “The Star-Crossed Romance of Josephine Cosnowski”:

  A prime universal belief among my peers was that the girls in the next town, East Chicago, were fantastic and that the most fantastic of all were Polish girls. Sometimes when Flick got his old man’s car, we’d go to East Chicago to ride around with the windows open just lookingat Polish girls walking around the streets. We’d holler out at them and ride around and around the block, jabbing each other in the ribs, swigging Nehi orange, gulping down White Castle hamburgers and blasting the horn.  We never actually talked to a girl, of course, or really got near one, we just hollered, gunned the motor and stared.

In high school I often went cruisingaround Philadelphia's southern suburbs

in cars usually driven by Bob Reller, Skip Pollard or Pete Drake.  Often we’d check out Montgomeryville Mart, a giant flea market and end up at a drive-in restaurant, where we’d admire the waitresses and hope to run into girls.  Our next town, Ambler, PA, provided occasional sightings of hot Italian girls we’d fantasize about and speculate about bra size and how far they’d go when on a date. 

After buying doughnuts at Jewel and fixing breakfast Sunday, I did laundry and watched the 76ers defeat the L.A. Lakers, and LeBron James, 143-120, as MVP candidate Joel Embiid of Cameroon scored 37 points.  Recent acquisition Tobias Harris added 22 and JJ Redick 21, mainly on deadly 3-point shots.  That night I stayed up for most the Grammys, which featured an emotional appearance by Michelle Obama.  I particularly enjoyed songs by Lady Gaga and Kacey Musgraves, whom I hadn’t seen before, and performances by Dolly Parton (who sang “9 to 5” with Miley Cyrus) and Diana Ross on her seventy-fifth birthday.  Toni and I saw Ross with the Supremes while at the University of Maryland; Stevie Wonder was the warm-up act. Critics harped on Jennifer Lopez leading the Motown tribute, but the whole point of the Motown sound was to accentuate a shared heritage and create soulful music for all people.  Smokey Robinson came to her defense.

 Tyrell Anderson at Union Station

I went to an Art in Focus talk at the Munster Center, as Decay Devils founder Tyrell Anderson spoke of his group’s history and work beautifying Union Station in Gary. Introducing Anderson, John Cain read this paragraph from my “Gary Haunts” exhibit essay: 

  Gary’s haunts lie dormant near Lake Michigan and steel mills responsible for their creation, sometimes inhabited by the homeless and visited by curiosity seekers and photographers fascinated by urban ruins.  Still eerily beautiful, they are representative of the grand illusions of early twentieth-century city builders and symptomatic of a throw-away society with a short historical memory.  Six decades after its birth in 1906, victimized by corporate greed, federal neglect, race tensions, and the allure of suburban living, Gary underwent middle-class flight, business disinvestment, and the erosion of its tax base.  

Anderson was inspired by developments that have taken place in downtown Detroit.  The Decay Devils are also concentrating on sprucing up area adjacent to Union Station, including Gateway Park, where the Gary Land Company Building sits, Gary’s first permanent structure.  In the audience I spotted Jan Trusty, who agreed to donate husband Lance Trusty’s papers to the Archives.  After the interesting talk we visited the exhibit, which had just opened.  Particularly moving was a photo of the once-grand Palace Theater in ruins.  Cain recalled sitting in the balcony Saturdays eating giant Nestle’s candy bars. I told John that Henry Farag’s “The Signal” contains colorful anecdotes from those years about going to the movies: In a chapter titled “Come Go With Me” he wrote:

   The Palace Theatre at 8th and Broadway was a gothic, Moorish, heavenly place with surreal stars twinkling over a lighted blue ceiling.  Sunday afternoons it was a gathering place for teens – the adults came in the evening.  Hoosier James Dean, star of Rebel without a Cause,” was becoming my generation’s symbol of undefined alienation.  The musical movies said the most to us, however, like “The Girl Can’t Help It” with Little Richard or Alan Freed features.  In one movie or another, we saw Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, Gene Vincent and the Blue Caps, Eddie Cochran, the Platters, the Treniers, and many more. There were two movies, sometimes three – the latter usually being Westerns. At this point we’d make the usher’s life miserable.

John Cain, who curated the exhibit, used a wonderful 1993Camilo Vergara  photo of Gary’s Blackstone Hotel at Fifth and Madison from the Calumet Regional Archives collection. In my “Gary Haunts” brochure essay I wrote:

  A quarter-century ago, Peruvian-born photographer Camilo Vergara, first introduced to Gary’s ”Haunts” while attending Notre Dame, invited me on one of his frequent excursions that provided material for “The New American Ghetto” (1995), “American Ruins” (1999), and other acclaimed publications.  Making selections for our “Gary: A Pictorial History,” Ronald Cohen and I included shots Vergara took of City Methodist Church, the Blackstone Building at Fifth and Madison (titled “Survivor in a tough city” but subsequently demolished), children playing basketball among the ruins of a gas station (one begged Camilo to let him change into his Michael Jordan jersey), a “Donate Plasma TODAY!” billboard on a vacant corner of Fifteenth and Monroe, and a photo display of Martin Luther King in murals located in a dozen inner cities adorning Four Brothers Market at 1139 East 21^stAvenue, which Vergara has revisited on almost all of his forays into Gary. Vergara initially wanted them placed inside City Methodist Church, but community organizer Samuel A. Love and I convinced him to agree to a traveling exhibit. Stops included the former site of Stewart Settlement House.

If City Methodist is refurbished and made part of a ruins garden, I’ll ask Vergara if we can have a permanent photo display of his shots of Martin Luther King in murals.

above, John Cain; below, ArtHouse: A Social Kitchen

VU Sociology professor Mary Kate Blake asked for suggestions on where to take students on their Gary tour, in addition to Union Station and the downtown library. I told her that both those stops were good ideas and to check out Flex Maldonado’s mural on the history of Gary near the library’s Indiana Room. She’s planning to go to Miller, and I suggested they check out the Aquatorium with statues honoring Octave Chanute and the Tuskegee Airmen. She wanted suggestions for lunch, so I called up the ArtHouse: A Social Kitchen, located near RailCat Stadium. Old friend Scott Williams answered. The Portage City Councilman and wife Vickie are evidently working there as managers or volunteers.  Summers, they take in several RailCat baseball players. While ArtHouse doesn’t have a restaurant per se, Scott offered to hire a caterer who’d prepare a meal for the 20-25 visitors.  I passed the information along to Mary Kate.  Described as a culinary incubator/art gallery, ArtHouse was funded in part through a grant from Bloomberg Philanthropies.