You don’t have much time to visit our city’s oldest Italian restaurant. Although the Milano Inn is well known for its fine food, most don’t realize that it is also home to several ghosts. The downtown Milano Inn at 231 S. College Ave. will serve its last patrons on New Year’s Eve, rhus ending an 82-year run that began when John Dillinger was Public Enemy #1, Al Capone was on his way to a new Federal penitentiary known as Alcatraz, and Franklin D. Roosevelt was settling in for his first of four terms in the Oval Office.
Sisters Tina and Gina LaGrotte, who have operated the eatery since their father Leo’s death in 2007, announced their decision on December 5th. They added that there is a slight chance that the restaurant will be sold and could reopen under a new owner but as of this writing, no further plans have been announced.
The sisters have been involved with the restaurant since their father bought it in 1980. When their father died, the sisters remodeled the entire downstairs and expanded the kitchen. Now they say it’s time to explore the next chapter of their lives. The restaurant had been open seven days a week until this past May, when the sisters decided to close on Mondays to give themselves a day off. The duo insists that business is good and the restaurant was in no danger of failing — they simply want to enjoy a life spent outside the restaurant while they are still hale and hardy.
The sisters also own and manage a few other properties, including the adjacent Angelo’s grocery, which was started by their grandfather. The Milano Inn closing comes two years after they sold a vacant strip of land north of the restaurant. That 2.6-acre parcel at the southeast corner of College and Maryland Street will soon be home to a 211 unit apartment building project called The Vue. The Milano Inn’s closing will be bittersweet for the LaGrotte sisters and their 65 employees but the question on every paranormal enthusiast’s mind is, “How will the ghosts handle it?”
I wrote about the ghosts of the Milano Inn in my book Indianapolis Haunts. Here is that story (with minimal editing) as it appeared back in 2012.
Hidden behind the Eli Lily Co. campus at 231 South College, the Milano Inn recalls a time in Indianapolis when Italian immigrants dominated Fletcher Place and the surrounding neighborhoods. Milano’s pasta and gourmet meatballs are famous in the Circle City. Mary and Joe Modaffari opened Milano Inn back in 1934, taking over a late 19th-century brick industrial building on South Noble Street (present day College Avenue) and transforming it into a factory of a totally different sort, serving up spaghetti and meatballs, ravioli, manicotti, spaghetti with clam sauce, and pizza with assorted toppings for their loyal customers on Indianapolis’ near southside.
The most dominating interior feature of the Milano Inn is the dazzling mural encircling all four walls of the main dining room. The painting tells the story of the Allied liberation of Italy during World War II. It was created by Sergeant Donald Peters in 1947 at the behest of the Modaffari family. Upon mustering out of the military, Sgt. Peters had become a student at the Indianapolis Herron School of Art.
The Modaffaris were admirers of Sgt. Peters’ art, and they commissioned him to paint the mural that captures a moment in their homeland near and dear to their hearts and legacy. In exchange, Peters received free room and board for the summer in one of the apartments above the restaurant. In vivid colors, images, and detail, Peters saw to it that each scene in the mural had its own riveting story to tell.
For over four decades, the Milano Inn built a stellar reputation as one of the city’s most beloved neighborhood Italian restaurants until the passing of Joe and Mary in the late 1970s. Other family members tried to keep it going, but by 1980, it appeared to be doomed. Leo LaGrotte, who owned a railroad equipment salvage business as well as operating neighboring Angelo’s (and four other) grocery stores in the city under the LaGrotte’s Village Market name, bought the restaurant with the intent of tearing it down to provide more parking for Angelo’s.
However, persistent Milano regulars convinced LaGrotte that, with modernization, renovation and an accomplished chef, keeping the Milano Inn alive could be a much wiser investment than another city parking lot. LaGrotte began extensive remodeling in 1983, giving the main dining rooms sleek elegance, adding a solarium, and replacing the old apartments upstairs with banquet and party rooms.
LaGrotte recruited local artist Greg Hughes to paint another large mural on one of the upstairs walls, continuing the artistic tradition found downstairs. LaGrotte learned later that Mr. Hughes was a cousin of downstairs mural artist Donald Peters, an eerie coincidence to be sure. LaGrotte then hired chef Vickie Dragoo to breathe new life into the Milano Inn menu by adding dishes with a Northern Italian theme. They included Italian roast beef, Involtini, fettuccine alfredo, five-layer lasagna timballo; stuffed veal and chicken dishes; shrimp parmigiana and shrimp linguine.
It was said that Chef Vickie cooked like her grandma taught her to, taking great pride in her Old World recipes featuring quality ingredients. Vickie died in 1997. Within a short time, the luster of the Modaffari years began to shine through again, as diners returned to see that their beloved eatery was given a new life. The Milano Inn’s legacy as a neighborhood gathering place and fine dining establishment thrived under the guidance of Leo’s daughters, Tina and Gina.
The building is said to be haunted by the spirit of owner Mary Modaffari. Many of the restaurant staff claim to have encountered her spirit most often in the upstairs banquet rooms, in particular the room that was once the living space for Mary and her husband Joe. During a 2005 investigation, I led a local ghost hunting group to the upper environs of the Milano Inn in search of the famed spirits.
Several EVPs (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) examples were captured on tape inside Mary’s old room. One of these appeared to be the disembodied voice of a male saying “Mary’s Good” while another startled one of the longtime employees with the utterance of the name “Nelson.” Although the name’s significance was lost on us, that employee quickly revealed that Nelson Wells was once the General Manager of the Milano Inn.
While speaking with employees before the investigation, several said they refused to work alone on the upper floors after the Milano closed for the night. One employee claimed “someone up there was watching me. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up and really gave me the creeps. I try to never go up there alone.” These same employees report that it was not uncommon for heavy drinking glasses to fly off tables and shatter against the walls and floors by their own motivation. This phenomenon most often happens after the rooms have been set up in preparation for a banquet.
Another employee described an incident as she was alone upstairs setting the tables for a banquet. As she finished and left the room for a moment, she returned to find every fork turned upside down. This after she had carefully placed the utensils correctly a short while before. Still another long time employee claimed it was common to hear footsteps and the sound of whistling coming from the upper regions of the eatery when no one was around to account for it. Family lore recalls that owner Joe Modaffari was known to whistle wherever he went.
The staff cites another local legend claiming that one of the upstairs apartments caught fire back in the 1950s, trapping and killing a young woman in her second floor living space. Ironically, the supposed victim shared the name of the restaurant’s original owner, “Mary.” While there is no documentary evidence to support such a claim, family members and employees believe the “Mary” in these urban legend ghost stories is actually the spirit of Mary Modaffari. While they are not afraid of the ghost (they believe it to be a protective spirit) many still refuse to travel upstairs alone or after dark. As one of the employees said, “I’m not scared, but I’m not stupid either.”
So, as you close out 2016, take an hour out of your holiday season and head down to the Milano Inn sometime between Christmas and New Years to say goodbye to an old friend. But, in the words of Uncle Walt Disney himself, “Beware of Hitch-Hiking Ghosts.”
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest books are “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View.” and “Irvington Haunts. The Tour Guide.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a Friend on Facebook.
