Weekly View » Steven R. Barnett

Roundhouses

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 30 Jul 2026 05:09:20 +0000

In recent months the people of the Martindale-Brightwood community have spoken out loud and clear about their desire not to have a data center located in their neighborhood. Despite their protestations about the data center affecting air quality and being noisy, Indianapolis civic leaders approved the development. Sadly, Martindale-Brightwood has had to cope with these concerns in the past. For over eighty years, the yards of the Big Four (Cleveland Cincinnati, Chicago, & St. Louis Railway), which eventually became the New York Central Railroad, dominated the landscape at 25th St. and Sherman Dr. The din of scrapping metal on metal and the impact thud of rail cars rolled across the community along with great clouds of dense black smoke billowing from the roundhouse as steam engines were put in readiness to join their line of freight cars. While the noise jarred nerves, soot from the smoke wafted across homes clinging to siding and speckling laundry hung out to dry. The coming of diesel engines mitigated the soot and the move of the railroad yards to Avon, Indiana dissipated the noise.
For city smoke inspectors trying to enforce abatement rules, roundhouses were “regarded as one of the hardest problems.” While in some cases the use of coke and wood to build initial fires in locomotives reduced or eliminated the problem, poorly built fires in the steam engines continued to produce noxious black plumes emanating from the chimneys over the roundhouse stalls. It was the job of the hostler, the railroader responsible for driving engines through the yards to and from the roundhouse and servicing them, to build the fire. My grandfather was a hostler at the Pennsylvania Railroad’s Hawthorne Yards on the east side of Indianapolis and was proud of his ability to build an engine fire that produced little if any smoke. He was critical of those who created fires belching inky palls.
Not all roundhouses were circular; some were fan-shaped. One of the first roundhouses in Indianapolis was built in 1849 for the Madison & Indianapolis Railroad. Located on the southwest corner of South Delaware and Merrill Streets, the roundhouse once was “considered one of the largest and best buildings of this character in the West.” By 1885 the structure had deteriorated and was razed. Another early roundhouse built in Indianapolis was for the Indianapolis, Peru, Chicago Railway. The fan-shaped structure was located on the southwest corner of East Washington St. and Noble St. (College Ave.). In 1870, the Vandalia Railroad built a16-stall circular roundhouse on the near south side of the city along White River over some of the graves at the north end of Greenlawn Cemetery. When it closed in 1923, it was the last of the downtown roundhouses. Southeast of the city center at Shelby and Calvary streets, the Leota Yard roundhouse of the New York Central Railroad was fan-shaped with 38 stalls. Designed for steam locomotives, by 1957 “the giant roundhouse no longer serves a useful purpose” and was razed. On the west side stood the B & O Moorefield Yards stretching from Tibbs Ave., across Michigan St. to Belmont Ave. Its fan-shaped roundhouse stood east of the 200 block of North Belmont Ave. The Pennsylvania Railroad roundhouse at the yards between East Washington St. and Southeastern Ave. like the one at Hawthorne Yards was fan-shaped while the New York Central Railroad Brightwood roundhouse was circular with 28 stalls.
The roundhouse was the heart of a rail yard. A giant turntable directed great locomotives to stalls where they were serviced ensuring their safe passage across the nation’s rail network pulling precious cargoes of freight and passengers. Amid the yard’s web of tracks, smoke, dust, and grease, skilled mechanics toiled by incandescent torch light with hammers and wrenches, in and around the behemoths and in pits beneath, carefully inspecting the iron skin and every nut, bolt, valve, and tube, “striking the various parts to see if they ‘ring true’.” A hostler moved the engine from one inspection site to another, the boiler chemically cleaned of all corrosive minerals, an inspector crawling into the firebox examining the boiler, the testing of headlights and brakes, defects noted and repairs made. “The careful and expensive work that is conducted in the railroad roundhouses…is a saving both in human life and of money to the company.”
To an engineer, “the massive pile of lumbering iron and steel is a human being;” eating coal, drinking water, experiencing stomach troubles, the exhaust is like breathing, and the headlight provides vision. The locomotive was referred to as “she” and “her” or “the old girl” and engines carried monikers, “Nancy” and “Betsy” being favorites.
Built to service and repair steam engines, the era of the roundhouse came to an end when diesel engines replaced steam and long, rectangular buildings were more suited for modern railroads. The Illinois Central Railroad fan-shaped roundhouse, 1500 S. Senate Ave., was an example of this transition when it became outmoded and was razed in 1964. Today, all that remains in Indianapolis of these once vibrant, massive workshops are fading ghost-like shapes across the scarred ground.
Indianapolis newsman William Herschell memorialized the roundhouse in his poem, “Old Mother Roundhouse,” writing in part,
Her engine babies come and go,
Each whistles just to let her know
They’re coming home to rest and sleep –
A mother-vigil she must keep.

100 Years Ago: July 31-Aug. 6

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 30 Jul 2026 05:08:10 +0000

From The Indianapolis News, Wednesday, August 4, 1926: People don’t realize what they’re drinking or else they don’t care,” Sheriff Omer Hawkins remarked as he reported on an investigation of filth found in white mule whisky and mash seized in recent raids; the results are nauseating. One prize pint taken from north side bootleggers was decorated with a well-preserved cockroach inside. Other bottles contained mule clouded with unidentified mosslike scum. Seized mash barrels used for fermentation prior to distillation are prolific sources of filth. Dead rats and mice are quite common along with large green buzz flies. These intruders when filtered leave no noticeable taste with the rest of the batch and are sold to the customer. The fellow who says he knows where his hootch comes from and it is safe is a good man to stay away from.

100 Years Ago: July 24-30

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 23 Jul 2026 05:08:47 +0000

From The Indianapolis Star, Monday, July 26, 1926: The six-story Haugh Hotel will be moved one block east from its present location on Michigan St between Meridian and Pennsylvania Streets to a new site at 127 E. Michigan St. It now stands near where construction is underway on the foundation of the World War Memorial building. Originally, the plan was to demolish the hotel, but it was found to be almost impossible to raze the red brick limestone trimmed concrete reinforced structure. The Kress-Oravetz House Moving Co of Pittsburgh is preparing the building for the move, undermining it with cribbing to elevate it with 550 large jacks. The building will be rolled over a steel track on 500 solid steel rollers. Four horses, working two winches, will be used to move the hotel at ten to fifteen feet an hour.

100 Years Ago: July 17-23

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 05:08:08 +0000

From The Indianapolis Star, Tuesday, July 20, 1926: Thirty-six Indianapolis Girl Scouts from various troops participated yesterday in the opening of Camp Dellwood, the new Girl Scout camp. Located eight miles northwest of the city on Big Eagle Creek, the camp was made possible by a gift from Dorothy Dell. The camp, divided into three units — Sherwood Forest, Gypsy Dell, and Fairy Ring — will continue under the direction of Emma Gardner, director of the Indianapolis Girl Scouts, for four periods of seven days each and the program will include archery, map making, nature lore, first-aid, swimming, athletics and games, and various outdoor subjects. A handicraft project of knitting squares which will later form an afghan will be conducted to fulfill the second-class scouting requirement. A graduate nurse, a dietitian, a cook, unit leaders, and counselors comprise the camp staff,

100 Years Ago: July 3-9

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 02 Jul 2026 05:08:36 +0000

From The Indianapolis Times, Monday, July 5, 1926: Although the Fourth of July was observed yesterday with varied festivities, the usual patriotic observances were reserved for today. Business stood still and public buildings were closed while fireworks boomed throughout the city amid sporadic rain showers which tempered the traditional Independence Day gaudiness. The streetcar strike partially crippled attendance at the principal patriotic program at the Circle Theater. Held under the auspices of the Seventh District Federation of Women’s Clubs, more than 5,000 children and veterans of foreign wars enjoyed a program that included viewing the photoplay, Barbara Fitchie. Indiana Spanish War Veterans held a picnic at Brookside Park while Grand Army of the Republic veterans held a reunion at their hall, Ft. Friendly, 512 N. Illinois. Celebrations ended with the night sky over Riverside Park ablaze with a fireworks display.

Strike!

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 05:09:53 +0000

American prosperity for 250 years since the founding of the Republic has been built upon an entrepreneurial spirit and by the sweat of the brow of working men and women. Sadly, for many years enslaved and child labor also contributed to this economic success. Natural tensions between employers and free labor over wages and working conditions led workers to form unions and disputes often were resolved only after militant work stoppages — strikes. In Indianapolis artisans formed the Mechanics Mutual Protection in 1850 and two years later a Typographical Union was organized by journeymen printers that became Local No. 1.
The first documented strike in Indianapolis began on Saturday, April 11, 1863, when members of the local Typographical Union Local No. 1 walked off the job at The Indianapolis Daily Journal and The Indianapolis Daily Sentinel after failing to receive a 20 per cent wage increase. To replace the striking printers, the papers hired workers from out of town who were “dogged along the streets, cursed, abused, and threatened,” by the strikers. The following Wednesday, the union called off the strike and “allowed any member to go to work at the old prices if he wanted to, or if the proprietors would take him.” However, the papers were “full of good, sober, steady workmen, who are glad to get employment at the profitable wages the [union] threw away so contemptuously.”
While the printers failed to achieve their wage goals, the blacksmiths and machinists went on strike the following year “with regard to hours and to wages.” The Machinists’ and Blacksmiths’ Union had a fund of $25,000 (2025: $524,086) “to pay the wages of needy brethren who may be thrown out of employment by the strike.” Other workers — journeymen boot and shoemakers, plasterers, and bricklayers — also went on strike for better wages during the Civil War era.
In March 1866, Indianapolis workers were confronted with their first strike related lock-out when local owners shut the foundry doors to members of the Iron Moulder’s and Stove Moulder’s Unions. This was part of a national action by foundry owners in response to strikes in Albany and Troy, New York. The strike lasted two months, ending with “the employers having compromised with the men.” Locally in the fall of 1870, 140 workers of Sinker & Davis at the Western Machine Works walked off the job when their wages were cut by ten percent. The Machinists’ and Blacksmiths’ Union supported the workers and the strike ended after a couple of days when the employers “discovered that they were paying but a trifle, if any, more than other proprietors.”
By the 1870s, railroad interests were so important to Indianapolis that any national rail event could severely affect the city’s business. When the financial Panic of 1873 occurred, the Pan Handle Road — Pittsburg, Cincinnati & St. Louis Railroad — (Pennsylvania Railroad) responded quickly with an abrupt announcement of a ten percent wage reduction. This violated a previous agreement with the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers “that no reduction of wages should be made, and in case the company felt constrained to reduce pay, due notice should be given the Brotherhood, that the matter might be amply discussed and the conflicting interests, if possible, adjusted by negotiation” thereby precipitating, what the newspapers called the Great Strike, which began at noon on Christmas Day, 1873 when engineers on the railroad and its seventeen related lines walked off the job. Passenger and freight trains came to a standstill and in Indianapolis an attempt by a conductor to move an engine from the yards was met by a large number of strikers who gathered at a crossing and “jeered to such an extent, although no violence was offered, that he…ran the engine back to the round house.” By early January, most of the railroads were back operating with “scab engineers” — “unskilled and unreliable men” — running the engines; “the railroad companies…for the time being, are the victors.” While railroad companies continued to reduce the wages of laborers by ten percent, further attempts to reduce the pay of engineers remained unsettled. The Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers resolved to resist any additional wage cuts “by all means in their power.”
As the economy continued to struggle with the effects of the Panic, the corporate officers of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad (B&O) devised a scheme to cut worker wages by ten percent so dividends to its shareholders could be increased by the same percentage. B&O workers at Martinsburg, West Virginia refused to accept the wage cut and, on July 14, 1877, initiated what would be known as The Great Railroad Strike of 1877. Five days later, Pennsylvania Railroad workers in Pittsburg refused to go out with their trains and demanded restoring a prior wage schedule and the reinstatement of every worker dismissed for participating in the strike. Additional strikes stopped traffic on the Erie Railroad and the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne, & Chicago Railroad. By July 23, in Indianapolis “the strike is the all-absorbing theme of conversation” and by evening 500 local workers of the Vandalia Railroad, the Indianapolis & St. Louis Railroad, the Bee Line (Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati & Indianapolis Railroad), and the Pan Handle, had joined the strike over wages. Later yardmen of the Jeffersonville, Madison & Indianapolis Railroad, the Indianapolis, Cincinnati. & Lafayette Railroad, the Indianapolis, Bloomington & Western Railroad, the Indianapolis & Vincennes Railroad, the Indianapolis, Peru & Chicago Railroad, and the Cincinnati, Hamilton & Indianapolis Railroad stopped work along with 125 switchmen and baggage men. Only mail cars were permitted to leave the depot as nearly 100 travelers were stranded in the waiting rooms.
Two thousand workingmen gathered on the state house grounds to show solidarity with the railroad strikers and to urge them to refrain from violence. The Indianapolis strike caused a suspension of business on all Indiana railroads and combined with strikes in Ohio and Illinois 2,100 miles of track was affected. Declaring, “It is now or never with us. We can never have a stronger organization, and the country was never so ripe for a movement of this description,” locomotive engineers, firemen, conductors, and brakemen from the several railroads formed a committee to discuss the situation with the management of the different lines and at a citizens meeting a committee of arbitration was established. Mayor John Caven issued a call for the formation of a committee of safety in each city ward to protect property if mob violence should break out. Federal troops from the South arrived and together with the Indiana Legion of citizen soldiers were available if needed.
After a week of unrest in Indianapolis, the city’s role in The Great Railroad Strike of 1877 was over with the strikers resuming work after accepting the report of the committee on arbitration which called “for the sake of the workmen and for the ultimate good of the companies” a speedy redress of “the lowness of wages and…irregularities in the payment thereof.”

100 Years Ago: June 26-July 2

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 05:08:25 +0000

From The Indianapolis Star, Monday, June 28, 1926: The Lincoln Square Co will erect a theater to be known as the Indiana, at 128 to 142 W. Washington St immediately west of the Claypool Hotel, at an approximate cost of $1,252,456 (2025: $23,262,053). The Indiana Theater will be a six-story fireproof building featuring old Spanish style architecture throughout with a front exterior characterized by a gigantic and richly carved terra cotta motif. The entertainment house will contain a beautiful, modern and luxurious motion picture theater, seating nearly 3,500 people at one time, and a magnificent ballroom on the top floor, which, it is believed, will be the largest ballroom of its kind in the Middle West. Lounging and smoking rooms and a children’s playroom will be available on the ballroom and mezzanine floors. The basement will have a bowling alley.

100 Years Ago: June 19-25

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 18 Jun 2026 05:08:50 +0000

From The Indianapolis Star, Wednesday, June 23, 1926: “The Crossroads of America” as the slogan for Indianapolis was officially adopted yesterday by the publicity committee of the Indianapolis Chamber of Commerce. The slogan conveys a definite idea telling the world that Indianapolis stands at the intersection of the great east-west and north-south national highways and major railway systems which radiate from the center of distribution which demonstrates Indianapolis is not merely watching the world go by but playing an important part in the nation’s activities. An effort will be made immediately to persuade the Hoosier Motor Club to work with the Chamber of Commerce in revamping and standardizing all road signage around Indianapolis to incorporate, as a part of each sign, the new slogan and an arrow pointing toward Indianapolis. The previous slogan, “No mean city,” while flattering, was meaningless.

100 Years Ago: June 12-18

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 11 Jun 2026 05:08:54 +0000

From The Indianapolis Star, Sunday, June 13, 1926: “From producer to consumer” is the slogan of the new producers’ market (farmers’ market) at South and New Jersey Streets which was dedicated yesterday afternoon with a parade over downtown streets. Led by a brass band, twenty-five decorated floats and trucks began the parade at the new market site, looping their way through downtown streets before returning to the market where speeches were delivered by officers of the producers’ association and city and state officials. Covering nearly a city block, the market is being financed and built by the Vegetable Growers’ Association of Indianapolis. It will officially open at 4:00 a.m. on Tuesday with ninety-three producers and twelve retailers with stands offering vegetables. Fruits, berries, poultry, eggs, and butter will be sold by stand holders beginning the latter part of the week.

100 Years Ago: June 5-11

Steven R. Barnett — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 05:08:39 +0000

From The Indianapolis Times, Tuesday, June 8, 1926: Thousands of Indianapolis citizens who thought they were registered to vote in the fall election by having voted in May’s primary election were mistaken, according to an opinion issued today by Indiana Attorney General Arthur Gillion. Despite Republican county leaders, in striving to bring out a large primary vote, asserting voting in the primary would automatically mean registration for the November general election, Gillion wrote the law clearly states only those who entered their names on the poll books by voting at the last general election and had not moved shall be eligible to cast a ballot. Those having not voted in November 1924 or having since moved must register from Aug 1 to Sept 1 at the county auditor’s office or through political party workers who are authorized to register voters.