The Little Church at 15th and New Jersey - Indianapolis

The picture I am including with this is not mine, but I chose it based on my memories of how the church building looked when I attended there.

Our family moved to Indianapolis in 1951.  The local congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the Indianapolis North Branch, already met at the 15th and New Jersey church building at that time.  I have no idea how long they had met there before we came.  The building had been purchased from a Protestant church of some kind, so was not new when our congregation bought it.  I was 2 when we moved there and around 6 when the building was sold, so my memories are those of a young child and subject to some inaccuracies possibly.

Looking at the picture, when we entered the church, we used the door to the left in the picture.  I remember a stairway there that went up to the chapel or sanctuary area of the church.  We entered the room from the back.  The podium area was set off from the congregation with a brass? altar rail from which hung turquoise velvet curtains about 18-24 inches long.  When facing the front of the room, I believe there was another room to the left with doors that could be opened to increase the seating area of the chapel, or closed to use for classes.  The area to the right when facing the front led into another room which also had some pews in it.  This room was pretty much used by the women’s group.

I never saw the attic of the church, but my father did. He said there was still evidence that at one time there had been a fire up there. 

The lower level of the church was probably meant to be a hall for social activities, etc, but in our congregation it was used for the children up to age 12 or so.  We met down there for Sunday School.  At the front of the room was a sort of raised platform maybe 2-3 steps up from the floor.  The rest was just a big open room.  Some of the members got together and built little backless benches of various heights for the children to sit on.  Because there were no classrooms for different age groups, my mother and her friend, Norma Whitehead,  ‘fixed’ that by finding a sale on really ugly green burlap which they used to make floor to ceiling length curtains which they strung from wires to divide off 4 areas for the 4 classes.  They divided the room visually but definitely were not sound proof, so we could hear what was going on in every class.  The curtains could be pulled back to use the room as a whole or closed to make the classroom areas.

Two memories I have of that room involved some of the families we attended church with.  The first was when the Haines children sang 'Away in a Manger' in German.  (Their father was stationed in Germany with the military for a time.)  I think this was the first time I was aware that people in other places used other languages.  Maybe this is where my interest in foreign languages began.  The other incident was when one of the children, Mary Margaret Jones, told us that it was her sister's birthday, but she was dead.  ( I didn't really understand at that time, but found out later that the baby, named Carol, had died at birth early in the morning of that Sunday.)

Two other members of the congregation stood out in my childish mind.  One was a lady who always wore a fur piece that appeared to be made of several little animals running around her neck, each biting the tail of the critter in front of it.  I loved looking at it and often couldn't resist furtively reaching out a finger to stroke it.  Another lady often wore a bright red dress which had a belt fashioned from three strands of black velvet.  The ends of the strands hung down from her waist, just the right height for a child to reach.  While she was talking to my mother one day, I found I could use those three pieces of velvet and braid them together.  I felt so grown up to know that I had figured out how to make a braid.

On Sundays we met in the morning for Sunday School…children in the basement and adults upstairs.  In the late afternoon we met again for what we called Sacrament Meeting, when all adults and children met together to listen to sermons on various gospel topics as well as to partake of the sacrament (communion).  During the week, the women’s group met for lessons on the Bible, sewing projects, etc.  The children also had a meeting during the week.  The teenagers met in the evening once a week, so the little building was well used.

The church had no furnace room.  Originally the house next door was the parsonage.  To make it easier for the pastor to stoke the furnace for the church, the church furnace was actually in the parsonage next door.  Our church had a lay ministry, so there was no official pastor, but the home was rented out to one of the members who agreed to take care of the furnace. 

I am not entirely clear on the exact year the church was sold.  I know there had been a building fund drive to earn money to build a new building, but there was a short interim time…maybe as much as a year or two…when we shared a building with another congregation, pending completion of the new church, which happened early in 1957.

At the time the church was sold, my father was the lay leader of the congregation, so he was involved in the sale of the building.  I only have one memory of that sale…standing out on the sidewalk by the church waiting for my parents to finish talking to the man who was buying it.  He had been a Methodist pastor, but wanted to start his own church  At the end of the conversation, when we all left, he leaned down and shook my hand.  Some months later, for old times’ sake, we drove by the church to see what it looked like now that another congregation had it.  I remember the sign on the side of the church.  It read:  People’s Temple…Rev. Jim Jones.

Most of the years I spent attending church there were happy ones.  Most of my memories are of various members of the congregation rather than the building itself.  By the time the building was sold, our congregation had simply outgrown the building. 

The little church building is still in use all these years later, by Restoration Baptist Church.  I am told they have remodeled it.  The furnace is no longer in the parsonage next door and it now has air conditioning!  It is located in an area which is now designated as a historical area of town, so when they remodeled the building, they were required to keep the exterior of the building to fit the historical time frame of the area.  I am glad to see that the church is still serving the community well and going strong!

Update:  27 October 2017

This is the church as it appears today.  This door used to be the main entrance.  Stairs indoors to the right went up to the chapel which is the part in the middle with the fancy windows.  This is no longer the main entrance.

This is the house next to the church that I believe was the old parsonage where the furnace used to be.

This door on the side now appears to be the main entrance.

Craft Weekend 2016

The Elephant in the Room

In the 1960s we lived in northeast Indianapolis, a few miles from the gate of Fort Benjamin Harrison.  Fort Harrison was the home of a number of army schools as well as the finance center for the entire army.  The schools lasted anywhere from a few weeks to months.  Because of that, there was a constant number of soldiers moving in and out.  Because Fort Harrison was in our ward boundaries, it was not unusual to see unknown soldiers show up at church.  Many times, church times coincided with meal times for the soldiers, so going to church meant missing their meal on Sunday, so Mom and Dad routinely gathered up any strangers who showed up for church and brought them home for Sunday dinner.  We never knew how many people would appear for dinner, so Mom kept busy on Saturdays making salads and desserts to go with whatever ham or roast she planned to serve.  Eight extra dinner guests were not unusual.  The most was probably the two Sundays when a National Guard unit from Utah came to Fort Harrison for their annual training.  They commandeered a military bus to attend church and then parked it in front of our house during Sunday dinner.  There were about 30 of them.  No matter the number, Mom made sure there was plenty of food for all.  After dinner, the basketball hoop in the driveway was a great lure.




For a time, there was a vindictive sergeant who wanted to make sure soldiers couldn't attend church on Sunday, so he would wake them up at 5AM for KP duty.  One Saturday the soldiers were alerted that the sergeant planned to grab them the next morning, so a number of them left and showed up at our house about midnight.  Mom welcomed them and made them beds on various couches and the living room floor.

Most of the soldiers were destined to go to Vietnam.  Many of them remembered the kindness of my parents and kept in touch for many years.


One day, our family made a day trip to Turkey Run State Park where we had fun hiking.  As we returned and pulled into the driveway of our L-shaped house, I noticed something odd in front of our front door, which was somewhat recessed.  Nobody else in the family noticed.  "Look!"  I said.  "There's an elephant by our door.!  I got some funny looks from my parents, who I am sure thought I was hallucinating, and a very sarcastic "sure there is" from someone else, but I was right.  There WAS an elephant by the door.  One of our soldier friends, Jim Bondurant,  had mailed it from Vietnam.  He decided to ship it without a box, reasoning that if the shipper could see that it was fragile, they would be more careful with it.  It came with just a shipping label.

His reasoning worked pretty well, as the only damage was a small corner broken off the top.  Mom  patched it up and soon the damage was barely discernible.

 

Over those years, we met many new and wonderful friends.  I always felt we were fortunate that none of them were lost to us in Vietnam.  As for the elephant, it has been in my parents' living room ever since.  It made a wonderful plant stand.

The Iditarod Sled Dog Race and eternal goals

 During the 29 years I lived in Alaska, the annual Iditarod Sled Dog Race became a much anticipated event.  The race commemorates an event from 1925 when  the small town of Nome, Alaska, had an outbreak of deadly diphtheria.  A relay involving 20 mushers and around 150 sled dogs rushed the antitoxin to Nome in a period of a little more than 5 days, thus saving many lives.

The modern race is not a relay.  Mushers and their dogs go from checkpoint to checkpoint, enduring harsh conditions, to race over 1000 miles from Wasilla or Willow to Nome.   The race is run early in March.  Near the end of a long, dark winter, the Iditarod is  a nice break and a sign that Spring is on the way.

I think there are many analogies that can be drawn between the race and life in general.  It is not possible to run the Iditarod without a lot of preparation.  Mushers must have successfully completed a qualifying race.  They are also required to carry certain items with them to take proper care of themselves and their dogs while along the trail. Our lives also take preparation to reach our eternal goals.  As we prepare spiritually, we become more spiritually strong and ready to successfully get where we want our lives to go.

The race this year (2016) had a couple of notable events.  It is always wise to expect the unexpected.  Sometimes things go wrong for a time, but there is a reward for enduring to the end. 

Two mushers this year, Jeff King and Aliy Zirkle, had an unfortunate experience that might have stopped a less prepared musher.  A drunken snowmachiner seemingly attacked their teams.  In Aliy’s case, he circled back and made several passes, injuring at least one of her dogs.  Jeff was not as fortunate.  Several of his dogs were injured badly, and one died.  I wondered if that would be the end of the race for them…if they would scratch.  They each dropped one or more dogs off at the next checkpoint of Nulato, but they kept on going.  They were focused on the goal ahead, the finish line in Nome.  They did not let the distractions or discouragements of their situation deter them from their goal.   So it is in our lives.  Things happen…some good, some bad.  Our goal is eternal life with our Father in Heaven.  When we hit rough times and situations, we need to focus on our goal, so that we do not become distracted and discouraged.

During the end of the race, three mushers seemed to be taking turns in the lead.  Any one of them could have won the race.  At the second to the last checkpoint, all mushers and teams are required to take a layover of 8 hours before the last 77 mile dash to the finish line. The three top teams came into the checkpoint of White Mountain relatively close together.  The dogs were fed and rested as well as the mushers.  At the end of the 8 hour layover, two of the teams were eager to be off for the finish line.  They ran joyfully.  The third team didn’t realize that their goal was so close.  Shortly after the team left White Mountain, the dogs decided they were finished.  They sat down.  They did not have the information they needed to rally and finish their race.  By not enduring to the end and keeping an eye on their goal, they missed their potential for a great reward.  We are fortunate with the Gospel, to know that our goal is there, waiting for us if we but endure.

Hill Aerospace Museum

Today we went to to visit the Hill Aerospace Museum near Hill Air Force Base.  We had driven past the outdoor display a few times, but I have never been inside before.

It began with an exhibit about the Wright brothers and looked like a collection of double-winged kites really. A docent came to tell us all about what we were seeing.  Mike and Roger nodded knowingly whenever he started calling the planes by letters and numbers.  I said things like, "Oh!  look at that silver plane over there with the cool paint job."  I don't speak letters and numbers.

It's hard to know which pictures to take, but some of the choices were obvious.  We had to have a picture of "Jolley Roger" in honor of my jolly Roger, but really I think the plane was named for a famous fellow surnamed Jolley.

Then we even found a plane clearly named for his sister!

Some of the planes had rather ferocious paint jobs, like the grim reaper, or whatever that toothed thing with the red nose is supposed to be.

When I was about 7th grade I remember that our class was taken on a field trip to  a factory in Indianapolis that made Allison engines....and here was an Allison engine, made right there in Indianapolis.

Some of the displays portrayed life on the homefront during times of war.  The blue star banners were displayed in homes who had family members serving in the war.  Multiple stars meant multiple people serving.   I still have the banner made by my grandmother to honor her future husband during World War I.  Sadly, sometimes the blue stars were replaced by stars of gold, which indicated that a service member in that home had given his life for his country.

Some of the displays showed ways that women also served.  Here are shown women working to repair a plane.

The planes filled the hall, from ceiling to floor, practically stacked on top of each other sometimes.

Planes and displays were from many time periods.  We stopped to look at a display from the Vietnam era.  The picture shows Viet Cong gear and a certificate honoring a Viet Cong fellow for killing an American.

Roger remembered his time serving near Da Nang.  He didn't realize that that service would impact him for the rest of his life.

We also watched a short video presentation about the war in the Aleutians and the difficulties of flying under the severe weather conditions there.

One area had portraits  of a number of famous aviators.  I even recognized some of their names, such as Jake Garn  and  candy bomber, Gail Halvorsen

It is a well done museum and worth checking out if you are in the area.

My Xylophone, a Gift of Love

When we are children, I think we sometimes miss acts of love shown in our behalf.  I came across one such thing recently.

At sometime I was regifted with a childhood toy.  I received it the first time as a small child, and again as an adult when my mother was giving away some of her possessions.  It was just a little xylophone which came with a booklet containing the directions for playing a few simple songs.  The little booklet has been gone for years, but recently a piece of paper appeared.  It was probably made about 60 years ago by a loving mother who knew I would enjoy having some familiar songs to play which were not in the little booklet.  The xylophone had colored keys, so my mother had carefully found crayons to match each of the keys and then had colored papers to tell me which notes to play for songs I knew and loved.  Sadly, most of the papers are long gone, but "The First Noel" and "Oh, Hush Thee My Baby" still exist.

The strips of felt which held the keys off the wood wore out and were carefully replaced.  I loved this toy as a child and am happy to have it again today for my grandchildren to play with.  Perhaps I should get out the crayons and do some more pages of music for them.

Brigham City Temple

Many years ago, school children in Brigham City attended school at Central School, just across Main Street from the Tabernacle.

Among those students were Ruby Kotter and her brothers and sisters.

Eventually the school deteriorated and new schools replaced it.   Central School was demolished, leaving an empty lot.

It was in October 2009 that exciting news was announced for the empty lot!  It was to become the site of a new temple.  Mom, who grew up in Brigham City was excited to hear the news and took an interest in the progress of the building.  Almost three years after the announcement, the temple was completed and dedicated.  Although we hoped to take Mom there, car accidents, surgeries, closures and other things interfered with our plans.

Today was finally the day.  We met at the temple at 1:45 and enjoyed our time there.  The workers there were kind and patient with us.  They provided assistance for Mom so she could hear.  We greatly enjoyed our time together.

Afterwards, we decided to go and enjoy Brigham City's best food before going home.