Drive-by research

Recently, my husband Walt and I made a trip to my hometown of Clinton, Indiana, to visit some extended family and go to the Clinton Public Library to search through microfilm of issues of The Daily Clintonian that are not available online. We were both more excited about this research opportunity than most normal people would be. We might watch a few too many true crime shows.

In the past year, the friendly staff at the library had helped me several times via email. So I went back to that reliable source and emailed for help with finding a few more articles. Apparently, genealogy is a hot thing. They had a long list of requests ahead of mine but said I could come in and search myself. When I told Walt this, I swear his eyes sparkled. 

So, we planned our trip to overlap with my cousin Terri, who lives in Idaho, and my cousin Pam from Kentucky, who would be there. I was going to get to see a lot of cousins and visit my Aunt Shirley! Could our timing be any more perfect?

Our timing unfortunately coincided with August’s record-breaking storms, rain, and flooding in Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, and West Virginia. (Essentially our entire route.) We drove through some horrific storms, complete with strong winds, heavy rain, hail, and more lightning bolts than I have seen in years. Several times, interstate traffic was slowed to 35 MPH due to low visibility. It was nerve-racking. 

The morning after the tempest trip, I called my newest friend, William, at the library and told him we were on our way. Walt and I were giddy with excitement. But just like the weather, luck wasn’t on our side. When we arrived, William was extremely disappointed to tell us the microfilm machine wasn't working. Odds were against it being fixed in the next few days. 

Well, shoot. There goes that sparkle.

Plan B was to do some drive-by research, which means driving around to see some of my old stomping grounds. And a few new-to-me sights. On our list were:

• The old Clinton High School Gym, which is all that’s left of the school I attended during ninth and tenth grade and is just across from the library. We could’ve seen it when we walked out of the library, but our heads were hanging low in disappointment.
• My Grandma Benson’s house in Clinton, so I could say how different it looks.
• The house she and my grandpa lived in before that. I had found their address listed several times in old newspapers. I had never driven past it before. But when I showed the picture to Aunt Shirley, she confirmed it looked different. 
• My Grandma Carty’s house in Fairview, so I could say how different it looks.
• South Vermillion High School, the school built during my sophomore year, where I attended my final two years of high school. 
• Summit Grove, the town I grew up in, so I could say how different it looks.
• Ernie Pyle Elementary School – where I attended kindergarten through eighth grade... a must for every trip home and sadly, now closed.
• The round barn west of Dana that I saw on a Facebook post and had never seen before... but my cousin Leigh Ann, who grew up in Dana, told me where to find it.
• The giant cow sculpture I found on Google Maps when I was looking to see where Sandytown was. Who knew there was such a thing? (My cousin, Leigh Ann - that’s who!)
• And the Vermillion County Courthouse in Newport, where my dad served as the County Assessor, so I could say how it didn’t look any different.

We drove out towards Summit Grove, where my childhood home had been before it burned down six months ago. Just before the turnoff, I asked Walt to pull over so I could take a picture of the sign for the old Breezeway Drive-in, which will be included in my memoir:

The Breezeway Drive-in

Out on the highway just south of the road leading to Summit Grove, there was a drive-in movie theater called The Breezeway. Opened in 1956 by two prominent Clinton families, it was a family-friendly establishment showing mostly G- or PG-rated movies.

That big family-friendly screen faced our neighborhood. My half-brothers would sit up on the railroad cars parked at the corn elevator silos in Summit Grove and watch the movies. If the wind was just right, they said they could hear the audio, but they were probably lying.

On special nights when the entrance fee was “per car” rather than “per person,” and they were showing a movie that Dad wanted to see, our parents would treat us to a night out. We loaded up in the car, dressed in our pajamas since we would be getting home after our bedtime, and drove the two miles to the entrance.

We took lawn chairs and blankets to spread out because only Mom and Dad sat in the car to watch the movie. There was a concession stand, of course, but, as with our family road trips, we brought our own refreshments. If we went on a Friday night, just one day after Mom’s payday, we might even have some pop to take. By Saturday, the pop would be gone, so a jug of Kool-Aid would be made.

The playground in the front, below the screen, provided additional entertainment. Before the movie started, we would go up, swing, and ride the merry-go-round with other kids who were also dressed in their pajamas. It was just a thing.

One of the movies I remember seeing was True Grit starring John Wayne. Dad loved westerns, and John Wayne had a special place in his heart. As mentioned, the movies we went to were movies Dad wanted to see. No Disney, so forget about Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. And absolutely nothing animated… I wouldn’t see The Aristocats and other Disney classics until they were released on VHS when I had my own kids.

Drive-ins peaked in the 60s and early 70s. According to the internet, the rise of indoor theaters and advancements in home entertainment like color TVs and cable contributed to the decline of drive-ins. By the time I was in high school, the Breezeway had changed owners and, in an attempt to stay afloat, the new owners went after a whole new audience who would not be bringing kids in pajamas. They started showing X-rated films.

Imagine the horror of the parents of Summit Grove – my dad, likely excluded – as they drove out of town after dark and saw Debbie doing Dallas on the big screen. On the weekends, the road leading back to our neighborhood would be lined with parked cars belonging to people too cheap, too embarrassed, too young, or all of the above to pay for admission.

This practice prompted the new owners of the Breezeway to install bright spotlights aimed away from the screen to blind and discourage the “parkers” and maybe to protect the innocent children of Summit Grove. I’m sure it was mostly to discourage the parkers who were cutting into their porn profit. 

The spotlights did cut back on the parking some, but the very determined degenerates could find a sweet spot on the road where a telephone pole partially blocked the blinding light, allowing them to get a glimpse of the action on the screen.

One of my high school friends recalls us being among those degenerates, but I plead the fifth. (And she has no evidence.)

The Breezeway closed in the 80s while I was in college, leaving those degenerates to seek free porn elsewhere. Lucky for them, the internet was just around the corner. 

On a trip to visit my parents when my kids were young, and we were really into Geocaching, we found a cache hidden behind the Breezeway sign, which, just like today, was overgrown with weeds. This was around 2001, before smartphones, and we used a handheld GPS device that relied on coordinates or something complicated, so only my fifth grader knew how to work it.

I don’t recall what was in the cache at the overgrown Breezeway sign (they typically held toys and trinkets), but I know my sons all remember the chigger bites we got trekking into those weeds. Hello, Indiana! I may need to add a chapter about chiggers!

Coming next week... visiting the Vermillion County Courthouse.