The crown of Crown Hill

At the crest of the cemetery—the “crown”—is the highest hill in the county, offering a panoramic view of the city.  Near the crown we saw something we’ve never seen before—even in all the hundreds of cemeteries we’ve visited all around the world looking for letterboxes.  It was a black granite "picnic table" with benches.  Nearby was a marker with this inscription:  “Please share communion with nature at this table.  We appreciate our past and hope for the future.”  We liked it very much.

Loved this concept

In three and a half hours, we found twenty letterboxes hidden in this peaceful oasis.  There were at least that many more, but we limited our search to the boxes with meaningful ties to the departed.  By the time we returned to the Residence Inn, the staff had rolled out appetizers and beverages for a complimentary evening reception.  With numerous vegetarian options, we easily found enough food to call it dinner.  After a bit of relaxing in our room, we returned to the Slippery Noodle to hear Gene Deer playing solo on his acoustic guitar.  A popular draw on the local blues circuit, Deer offered up some nice mellow blues.

We made plans to follow I-65 due south into Nashville the next day.
   space 

 space 
Tuesday, April 28—Indianapolis to Nashville

When we left the hotel in Indianapolis, we decided it was time for us to check out the Indy Motor Speedway before leaving town.  We’ve been to the city numerous times and never made it to the famous car racing mecca.  Not that we were interested in a tour, we just wanted the “been there, seen that” threshold of familiarity. 

     

Empty stands at the Indy Motor Speedway

Much to our surprise, the security guard at the gate invited us in, even if we didn’t plan to visit the Hall of Fame, and advised us where we could park and walk over to some nearby grandstands,  What he did not mention but we soon discovered was that Jeff Gordon and Martin Truex were zooming around the track at competition speed, testing some new racing tires for Goodyear.  We hung around a few minutes, watching as they blurred past.  When they hit the pits, we left, just as a couple of other NASCAR testers roared onto the track.

Cheekee Monkey does it again!

Traveling down I-65, we again paused intermittently to search for a letterbox here and there.  Since we were approaching Cheekee Monkey’s home territory, we were looking especially for boxes she had planted.  In various places, we found her tributes to Carole Lombard and Red Skelton (both Indiana natives) and Abraham Lincoln, favorite son of Kentucky.

Abraham Lincoln memorial in Louisville riverside park

Near Franklin, KY, we left the interstate to get a closer look at some rapeseed fields in full bloom—an ocean of yellow blossoms.  Then it was on to Nashville, where we checked in to a new Residence Inn near Vanderbilt.  Though we hoped to hear some blues in that capital of country music, YouTube previews of the night’s performers at Nashville blues clubs left us less than enthusiastic, so we wound up the day in our room munching on a big salad from groceries we had picked up earlier in the day.

 space 

Wednesday-Thursday, April 29-30—Nashville to Home

Our day began with some letterboxing around the city—on the Vanderbilt campus, behind the oldest bar in Nashville, in Centennial Park.  While we were in the park, we decided to visit the Parthenon, a Nashville landmark. Built in 1897 as part of the city's centennial celebration, this imposing edifice is a full-size replica of the original Parthenon in Athens, Greece.  Intended as a temporary structure for the exposition,, the first Nashville Parthenon was constructed of insubstantial materials, which eventually rendered it hazardous. It had proved so popular with the local citizenry and visitors, however, that the structure was rebuilt with concrete in the late 1920s.  Today it serves as an art museum and a popular event space.
   

Just as with its namesake in Athens, the centerpiece of the Parthenon is a 42-ft. statue of the goddess Athena.  With no imagery of the Greek original extant, a Nashville sculptor who won the commission in a competition, brought the full force of his imagination and all the historical data he could collect into his design.  The result is a very impressive and imposing sculpture, abundant with imagery and symbolism, and gilded with more than eight pounds of gold leaf,
From the Parthenon we drove to the Nashville Farmers Market just north of the state capitol and ate lunch in their food court before heading off to the main branch of the Nashville Public Library.  A mystery letterbox was hidden within the stacks, one whose devilishly clever clue consisted exclusively of a long string of ISBNs—international standard book numbers.  That's the unique 13-digit numeric book identifier printed with a bar code on the back of every commercially published book.

Near the library's main entrance, on the corner of Church Street and 7th Avenue, sits La Storia della Terra, a 20-ft. tower of books made of marble, granite and quartz from five continents.  Created in Germany in 2001, the column consists of 26 books, one for each letter of the Roman alphabet.

     

La Storia della Terra

Driven by a flourishing health care industry and robust job market, downtown Nashville is in the midst of a construction boom—office buildings, restaurants and stores, hotels, and residential properties.  "If there's dirt, they're moving it," Ken observed as we passed one construction site after another.

A few more letterboxes after the library, and we retired to the hotel where we did some construction ourselves, building dinner from lunch leftovers and existing supplies.  We even had time to relax a bit before heading out in search of some Nashville blues.

On 2nd Street, the city's intensely touristy stretch of restaurants, bars and taverns, we found the Nashville location of B.B. King's Blues Club.  The happy hour duo was still playing—a fellow named J. Curly Speegle on guitar and vocals accompanied by a diffident bass player, who couldn't tear his eyes from Curly's hands.  We surmised that the two don't play together regularly as the guitar, bass and vocals often seemed to be proceeding on their own without regard for one another.  Song selections leaned more toward Eric Clapton than Muddy Waters from this pair who billed themselves as southern rock.
   

At 7:30, the evening's feature performers—Tony Coleman and the King's Men—began setting up, a process that took the better part of an hour.  Led by vocalist and drummer Tony Coleman, the band comprised musicians who have spent time playing with B. B. King.  Theirs was the kind of music we were seeking and we enjoyed the performance, including a soulful rendition of Stormy Monday with Tony on vocals.
   

This was our last day of chasing the blues, and it has been a great ride.  When we started out 40 days ago, we were novices.  Today, we still are, but we've learned a lot and heard some fabulous music and met some talented musicians.  Our decision to stick with small blues clubs rather than concert halls afforded us opportunities to really get to know the people we were listening to.  They were uniformly friendly, appreciative, and instructive, leaving us eager to continue chasing the blues in our future travels.  On Thursday, we drove home, unpacked, and began looking for blues clubs in the Atlanta area.

MONDAY, 27 APRIL - THURSDAY, 30 APRIL 2015

     

With the legislative session hurtling to a frantic conclusion this Wednesday of what the entire nation knows has been a controversial session, the statehouse was a very busy place.  General meetings weren't scheduled until afternoon, according to signage, but the building was a hive of activity.

The rotunda and both the north and south atria were decked out with rows of black plastic chairs in obvious preparation for various groups expected to visit today.  This cheap institutional furniture definitely detracted from the first impression of the capitol building.  Looking up, however, we were quite impressed with the 72-ft. stained octagonal glass dome.  Though it is lovely, we were unable to discern any symbolic significance to the pattern.

     

Dome interior

Making our way to the tour desk about 10:00, we were told that we could join a group of school students at 10:30 for a 90-minute tour (twice the standard length) or we could come back "another time."  None of the the four employees on duty at the visitor desk showed any interest in us visitors except one, who took the role of spokesperson.  Rather than telling us we were welcome, he told us repeatedly, "You're more than happy [sic] to join the school tour" and "You're more than happy [sic] to come back later."

He was wrong on both counts.  We were not happy, let alone more than, to do either.  When we asked curiously about all the chairs set up 60 feet from their desk, they let us know quickly that it was not their job to keep up with such.  At that point we could tell that they had devoted far more time and attention to us than they felt we merited.  Somehow, though, we were able to secure a self-guided tour brochure before we were summarily dismissed.  To be precise, they didn't actually hand us the document, but they were kind enough to point begrudgingly in the general direction (within their reach) of where the documents were on display.

We left the tour desk chastised and thoroughly put in our place.  Visitors to the Indiana statehouse were on their own and not particularly welcome.  What a contrast to the warm reception we received in Louisiana, Illinois and Iowa—just on this trip—and most of the other statehouses we have visited.  Our typical experience is friendly employees and locals who appear genuinely pleased that we have taken enough interest to visit their state capitol.

Office of the First Lady

And yet, we pressed on.  With the brochure we wrangled from the self-important visitor desk employees, we wandered around the second floor—the main entry, which housed a number of executive department offices including the very ornate "Office of the First Lady."

As we explored the building, taking photos and consulting our brochure, not one person made any attempt to engage with us, nor did they respond to our overtures.  In fact, the dozens of legislators, lobbyists, and state employees we encountered all seemed to regard us with suspicion.  We had no idea why.

  space. 

Fourth floor

When we climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, the icy atmosphere melted a bit.  At the security station outside the Court of Appeals, we were warmly greeted the moment we cleared the top step.

"Finally!" I exclaimed, "we found a friendly Indianan."  We told the amiable guard about the frigid reception we had received at lower floors.  He was quite apologetic and in a clear effort to reverse our impression, he thoroughly explained everything that was on the fourth floor, encouraging us to be sure to visit the House and Senate galleries, even though our brochure warned that no one could enter those hallowed halls without a guide.

Still a bit unsure when we reached the door to the Senate gallery, we asked Carol, the gatekeeper seated at a nearby desk, if we could enter.  "Sure!" she exclaimed.  "Just turn the knob on the right hand door."

Senate Chamber

When we entered, we beheld a very compact Senate chamber—for only 50 senators—with an almost spartan decor.  The carpet featured a star pattern—one large star encircled by 19 other stars to represent Indiana's entry into the Union as the 19th state.  Around the walls, windows offered a view into the chamber from the offices of Senate officials.  In general, there was an unexpected lack of ornamentation, but the popcorn style ceiling was the biggest surprise.

Before we moved on, we chatted in the hall with the gregarious Carol for another 20 minutes before she pointed us in the direction of the entrance to the House gallery.  Rather than a friendly employee at that doorway inviting our visit, we found a walk-through metal detector (because House members don't trust the one at the main entrance?) and a curmudgeonly sentinel who totally ignored us, as if we weren't standing two feet in front of him.  Finally we asked him if we could visit the gallery.  He raised his eyes and muttered, "Go ahead."
     space  

House of Representatives Chamber

     

The moment we walked into the House gallery, the view was overwhelmed by a massive 20 ft. x 25 ft. chandelier, which is equipped with 100 bulbs, one for each House member.  An impressive mural above the Speaker's desk, the "Spirit of Indiana," depicts an allegorical history of the state.  In contrast to what we have seen in so many other statehouses, Indiana's House of Representatives chamber was more elegant and ornate than the Senate.

Grateful to have discovered this small fourth floor dose of hospitality, we wound up our self-guided tour around 11:30.  Though the Indiana statehouse has some undeniably attractive design elements that create little vignettes of beauty as you move around the building, the chilly reception from the people in the capitol tarnished the architect's artful conception.  Of the 26 state capitol buildings we have visited,  we can confidently say that Indiana's rated highest on the unfriendly meter.

MONDAY, 27 APRIL 2015

Indiana State Capitol Stats

• Construction period:  1878-88
• Dome surface:  copper
• Building height (to tip of dome):  235 feet
• Architectural style:  Renaissance Revival
• Original cost:  $1,980,969
• Friendly staff members:  1

Beautiful details

Another lovely view

Vignette of beauty

Protesters speak their piece.

Once we cleared the snarl of traffic, we left Chicago on I-90, where the tolls soon began, just as we expected.  By the time we left the interstate in Indiana 40 minutes later, we had coughed up a total of $7.20 at three toll plazas.

Since we were so near it, we decided to visit the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, a unit of the National Park Service.  When we explained our limited time, the friendly rangers at the visitor center recommended the West Beach.  In a brief walk on the beach, we marveled at the appearance of waves on Lake Michigan.  In winter and early spring, the lake even serves up some surfable breakers.  The tan dunes were small and grassy with scrub growth.  We never quite caught the geological or historical significance of this spot that would make it rise to the level of a nationally protected sanctuary.  Compared to Great Sand Dune National Park in Colorado or the coastal dunes of North Carolina and the Florida panhandle, we found the lakeshore rather 'mundune.'

What's all the fuss about?

Near West Beach we picked up I-65 and took it south toward Indianapolis.  Occasionally we paused to search for a driveby letterbox in some of the little towns we passed.  One of those was Rensselaer, where our first stop took us to the Old Settlers Cemetery at the end of a rural gravel road.  Most of the graves there date from the early to mid-1800s, but one stood out.  Engraved with the name John Doe, the headstone marks the final resting place of a young man whose remains were found nearby in 1982.  Though his identity has never been established, he was believed to be a victim of serial killer Larry Eyler, who confessed to murdering more than 20 young men and boys in a two-year span.

After that sobering stop, we drove south of town to search for another letterbox at Saint Joseph’s College, a private Catholic liberal arts institution founded in the late 1800s as a secondary school for Native American boys.  Today the campus was abuzz with the annual “Little 500,” a traditional go kart race postponed from yesterday due to rain.  We missed the earlier alumni competition, but made it just in time for the 2 p.m. student contest.  As we were to learn later in Indianapolis, most Indiana colleges hold some type of “Little 500” race each year, whether they race beds, bicycles, or go karts.

Saint Joseph's Little 500

With trackside seats along the race course from the spot where we serendipitously parked our car, we watched the first dozen or so laps while eating our picnic lunch.  Whether they ran the entire 500 laps, we cannot say.  Long before the winner was declared, we were back on I-65.

Near Lafayette, we left the freeway to seek another letterbox which our friend Karen asked us to investigate after seeing the story behind it on Atlas Quest.  The letterbox was a sweet tribute to an undeveloped child lost to an ectopic pregnancy.  When we left the cemetery, we decided to continue south on US-52 rather than returning to the heavy traffic and frenetic pace of I-65.  We found this surface road much calmer and stuck with it to US-421, which took us into Indy.

After checking in at a Residence Inn about a half mile from the state capitol, we hit the local P.F. Chang’s for dinner before going to look for some blues music.  We found just what we were seeking at the Slippery Noodle Inn, a large blues bar and restaurant near the Amtrak station and the football stadium, though the club predates them both.    In fact, this esteemed tavern is the oldest commercial building in the city.  Having opened in 1850 as the Tremont House, it has the distinction of being the oldest continuously operated bar in the state.  During its checkered history, it has served variously as a stop on the Underground Railroad, a speakeasy and a brothel.

Gordon Bohnam and friends

We arrived at the Noodle just in time to chat with the band as they were setting up for their 8:30 gig.  Tonight’s performance was by the Gordon Bonham Trio with Gordon on guitar and vocals, Kevin Anker on keyboard and Jeff Chapin on drums.  Host of the inn’s weekly blues jam, Bonham draws on classic Delta blues with a little Chicago mixed in and spiced with the influence of Texas blues.  These are respected players in the local blues community, and we lucked out by visiting the Slippery Noodle tonight.

After more than two hours of their smooth and soulful blues, we returned to the hotel to plot our visit to the Indiana state capitol tomorrow.

SUNDAY, 26 APRIL 2015

     

Lobby of the Harold Washington Library

As soon as we entered the library, Monica, a friendly staffer, asked if we were there for the big poetry celebration.  Huh?  She gave us a schedule and briefed us about the activities of the day, including the opportunity to have a custom poem written for you—free.  Now, that’s an offer we haven’t heard for a while.

When Monica learned we were tourists, she shared a bit of history on the library, which had been an initiative Harold Washington began before he died in office in his second mayoral term.  With 756,000 square feet spread over ten floors, the library has been called the largest public library building in the world.
   

Winter Garden

Architecturally, there is nothing particularly noteworthy about the library’s interior until you reach the ninth floor and the spacious, light-filled Winter Garden.  Rising more than 100 feet through the tenth floor to a glass roof, this large public space can be rented for events.  Four lonely olive trees in planters comprise the only greenery in this magnificent space, which seemed like a missed opportunity.

As we exited the elevator on the ninth floor, Logan and Paul—two of the volunteer poets on duty for the day—were seated at a table with ancient portable typewriters.  They inquired whether we’d like a personalized poem.  Who could turn down such an offer?  Logan took on our case and conducted a five-minute interview for background information.  He asked us to return in 20 minutes.  When we did, he presented us with the poem he wrote for us.

Poets at work (Logan on L)

He seemed very pleased with his work, and we appreciated his effort on our behalf.  It was our first experience at being the subject of a poem.  And we still haven’t figured out the origin of the ebola reference.

Once we picked up our poem we walked to Buddy Guy’s, just a quarter mile away.  Not realizing it was quite so close, we arrived 15 minutes before opening.  About that time, the rain, which had held off during our transit, began to fall.  So we walked to the Hilton Chicago in the next block and ended up having lunch at their 721 South Bar and Grill—much healthier fare than the meal we’d eaten at Buddy’s yesterday.

When we returned to the blues club, Mike Wheeler was performing with his acoustic guitar.  A Chicago native, Mike has been playing blues for 30 years and has an eponymous band that is well known in the area.  Today he seemed to be enjoying the solo gig, playing traditional blues as well as songs by such artists as Smokey Robinson and the Beatles.  He mixed it up well, and his skillful guitar playing was a good match for his mellow baritone.

Waiting for the train

When Mike finished his set at 2:00, we departed, intending to return to the hotel.  Following the advice of our taxi driver this morning, we walked over to State Street and took the subway red line to Grand, just a hundred yards from the Homewood.  As we were trying to decipher the ticket machine and determine which ticket to purchase, a middle-age female CTA employee was quick to offer assistance.  In the process, we got into an interesting conversation with her about Atlanta, where her brother moved and her son will be attending college.

Back at the hotel, we rested and did some planning for the next few days.  After another in-room dinner, we walked over to the House of Blues for the 6:30 performance by the Windy City Duo—Rich Reminger on harmonica and guitar and Dave Steffen on guitar.  At our request, they sang “Messin’ with the Kid,” an up-tempo blues standard we have heard in every city we’ve visited.  It was originally recorded by Chicago’s Junior Wells in 1960 with Buddy Guy on guitar.  Rich and Dave gave it a good run tonight, and both were pleasant when we chatted with them during breaks.

Windy City Duo

When their set was done, we stayed to hear what the Chicago Rhythm and Blues Kings were offering.  Their band included sax and trumpet as well as guitars and drum.  As soon as they began blasting out their first song, we realized they weren’t playing what we were looking for, and walked back to the hotel for our last night in Chicago.

Tomorrow we’ll drive to Indianapolis as we head eventually toward south Alabama, where we plan to attend a meeting next Saturday.  In Indy, we’ll check out the Indiana State Capitol and look into the local blues scene.

SATURDAY, 25 APRIL 2015


Mike Wheeler


Windy City Duo: Stormy Monday 


Windy City Duo: Messin' with the Kid