From: Laura C. Morris
Received: March 18
I understand the need for the “ugly red building” to be torn down, although I will be sad to see it go. When I drive by it, I am reminded of summer visits to my grandparents.
I grew up in Indianapolis and would spend time with them in the summer, along with an aunt and uncle who weren’t much older than me. They lived at the dead-end of South Beatty Street next door to the old house my mother was born in. The summer’s were hot back in the 1960s without air conditioning.
We would stay outside well after dark as long as we could. Sometimes we were treated to an ice cream treat from the Mr. Softie truck. But if we were lucky, my granny would make her homemade vanilla ice cream.
She had an old oak ice cream bucket with a hand crank. To me, it took forever to get that ice cream made. Earlier in the day, granny would cook the ice cream mixture. The smell of vanilla would fill the house. The anticipation starting to build. Then it was time to go get the ice.
My grandpa always drove a Studebaker. He had a nice, shiny one in the garage, but we would always ride in the old green one to the “ugly red building.”
I don’t remember when they started selling ice at gas stations and stores, but back then we would pull up to the side of the ice house where someone would load a bag of ice into the car for us. Then we were headed back to South Beatty Street to get the long process of making the ice cream started. Everyone took a turn on the hand crank.
Soon we would be sitting on the front porch swing, eating our wonderful, homemade ice cream out of those glass bowls with handles.
I will miss the “ugly red building” as well as the State Street School my mom attended. Driving by them remind me of happy times spent as a child on those summer visits.