A Community First, An Amusement Park Second: Inside Indiana Beach State Park

If you were driving down Broadway Avenue in Monticello, Indiana (pop. 5,293), this past Thursday and saw a woman at a picnic table wearing a cover-up over a mismatched two-piece--her first bathing suit (and Wal-Mart purchase) in years, acquired no less than a day earlier--near a sign advertising, "Lowest Rates in Town, Free HBO, Vacancy," then you saw The Pipeline.

If you didn't see her, or her traveling companion, who is chilling out in today's masthead photo, on top of the world, or at least near the top of Indiana Beach State Park, rest assured The Pipeline got up close with both individuals, notably the woman at the picnic table on the lawn of the Monticello Inn, scribbling this story onto a steno pad with a borrowed pen that introduced her to Louis Quirk, Bail bonds, who wants to put "your feet back on the street."


Monticello Inn's evening manager, Gloria, who I'd met when I popped by the front desk to procure a new light bulb for my room, said I could keep the pen. She added that it was left in her establishment by a patron from Chicago who'd gotten himself into a bit of trouble. The important part of what Gloria said was "from Chicago." Indeed, it's possible to get from here to Monticello on less than a tank of gas in about two hours.

Monticello is one of seven small towns comprising White County, a heartland tourism hotbed which attracts 1.2 million visitors each year, with a total annual economic impact of $60.4 million, according to a community profile from the Greater Monticello Chamber of Commerce and Visitors Bureau. Among the visitors to Lake Shafer, Lake Freeman, and the Indiana Beach and its adjacent amusement park are fun-seeking families from places like Streamwood and Midlothian and Hanover Park and Kankakee, based on an informal sampling of folks I lazily collided with on 'Action River.'

I first landed on the shores of this "poor man's Lake Geneva" in 1983, in a powder blue Datsun with two parents chain smoking in the front seat and my brother and I marking boundary lines in the back seat and fighting over fast-food French fries like a pack of wild wolves. Last week I discovered it to be one of the Midwest's most affordable destinations, offering historical museums, restaurants, a winery, a drive-in movie theater, and a golf course, among other attractions, that complement the showpiece that is the park. Last week we didn't leave for two days, save for popping in at the Double D, which has potato wedge fries I am still thinking about.

Spirits inside the park are high---and not just from all the funnel cakes, fudge, and popcorn. To change into your suit in a dressing room with a painted wooden door and a wooden plank floor, with girls putting on waterproof mascara in front of massive mirrors like the kind inside the roller skating rinks and penny theaters that exist less and less these days, and to pop in and out of the shops with hand-painted concession signs along the park's boardwalk, is to be transported to a time when vacations meant what that word means.

It wasn't that long ago when there were no out-of-office emails to send before you jumped into a car with a duffel bag, joyfully singing "holiday rooaaaod," because there was no email, or hotels with full-service business offices, or laptops, or iPADs, or PDAs, all of which now practically demand that you tweet about your movements to people you've never met and who aren't along with you for the ride that should be experienced with wide eyes and undivided attention, no matter your age, as we committed to doing. Maybe that's a downright luxurious decision in today's fast-paced-yet-oft-going-nowhere world. But that's just me.

It was a time before our nation became so virtually connected that it lost its ability to emphasize, and there was nothing ironic yet about wearing an airbrushed T-shirt. You really could have your Coke and smile, too, because corn syrup wasn't in the news, nor were oil spills, our nation's widening trade deficit, rising unemployment, and the general sense of unease that I keep asking myself if I'm just imagining or not. It was a time when Dipping Dots were still considered by many folks, this e-newsletter writer not excluded, to be "the ice cream of the future." And it is a time and place that miraculously still exists, in 2010, in a "space" made possible by the people of Monticello, who offer up a good dose of what Monticello Herald Journal's last remaining staff reporter, Scott Allen, described as "Hoosier Hospitality."

Scott was quite hospitable himself when I met him this past Friday night, having returned to the Double D, where the previous night I'd interviewed its owner, Beverly. On my second visit to the bar and grill I was introduced to Scott by Beverly, who was perhaps politely wondering to herself if the big city reporter from an e-newsletter she'd never heard of was going to leave all the giant Indiana spiders out of this story and write promotional copy about their county, which boasts a solid base of manufacturing, including a Fortune 500 aluminum can supplier, and agriculture, wherein the county ranks among the state's finest in corn, popcorn, soybean, and hog production.

What the community profile doesn't say, and what a proud and hardworking person like Beverly (and pretty much everyone else I met over two days) didn't say, and that I'd find out later, is that based on the U.S. 2000 Census, 8.1% of the population of Monticello lives in poverty. That's a number that likely hasn't decreased in this recession (and since a 2005 fire at a manufacturer of outdoor furniture, cushions, and umbrellas that made national headlines).

Another unspoken conversation, just touched upon by Gloria at the Monticello Inn, is a sharp decline in tourism that hits directly on the bottom line. The fact is, This Special Place Where Time Stands Still is largely dependent upon the success of a two-and-a-half month tourist season, cut even shorter this year by Indiana and Chicago Public Schools' decision to start the academic year in mid August instead of after Labor Day, a break in tradition wreaking havoc on an already flat summer, especially for a business like the Monticello Inn, a second choice in better times, when the pricier cottages and cabins on resort grounds are booked to capacity, and an oft overlooked choice in times when the lowest price in town is the one that can be bargained. In response to the earlier school season, the park implemented a new schedule, too, which Gloria also said I could keep.

Thankfully, some sunlight fell upon the park's ledger the weekend prior to our visit, Aug. 6-8, the last weekend before school began. Record-breaking crowds, just 23 folks shy of 16,000, streamed into the park, per Kurt Hunt, a friendly and enthusiastic marketing manager, who'd approached when he saw me chatting up Shantel, with that darn steno pad I swore I wouldn't bring and had whipped out only after trying to win a basketball from her booth. In addition to the strong weekend the week prior, Kurt said that lots of groups and family reunions are taking advantage of the package deals. He wondered if I'd mind mentioning the 1st Annual WE Will Survive American Cancer Society Day on Sat., Sept. 11. On this day, all cancer survivors will get into the park free. Family, friends, and supporters of the survivors will enjoy a reduced $20 admission.

The decision to close the park during the last two weeks in August, keeping it open only on the weekends, was a pragmatic budgetary one, Kurt explained, enacted by the park's newish owners and his employer, Morgan RV Resorts, which purchased the amusement portion of the 85-year-old park three years ago from its founders and longtime owners, the Spackman family, the very name of which elicits a Willy Wonka-like reverence among the townies. That's not surprising, considering generations in Monticello and surrounding communities grew up working at the park as their first job, or running it as their full-time one, or working at a motel or restaurant that catered to tourists from the park. Scott, who grew up in a town about 30 miles north, reported that he'd worked at the park in his youth and recalled many fond summers, when Mr. Spackman would give the kids a slight raise in their hourly wage at the completion of one summer and the beginning of the next, in appreciation for loyalty.

Indeed, loyalty is an emotion that seems to run through the park. There's the tourist determined to visit the beach again and vie for a new version of a lost stuffed animal of sentimental value, which I found in this Facebook photo and story caption, which I discovered back at home and online again. Stalking the park, I heard from the mouths of townsfolk that "the rumor floating around town" is that the Spackman family, in the event of a possible bankruptcy by the new owners, is preparing to buy back the park.

Kurt referred to the the rumor as a townie legend which has reared its head around the same time for the past three summers. Also dispelling the rumor, though not as definitively, was Janet Dold, executive director of the Greater Monticello Chamber of Commerce & Visitors Bureau, who, in addition to being a cornucopia of information on all things Monticello (and, coincidentally, one of the three former Herald Journal reporters that Scott had referenced earlier), gave me the community profile sheet along with a very different pen than Louis Quirk's, this one with the bureau's tagline of 'Life with a Splash.' Speaking of slogans, I recalled singing in the back of the powder blue Datsun, "There's more than corn in Indiana / It's the best part of Americana / Indiana Beach!" which aired about 47 times a day on WGN-TV during my formative years. Janet said it was "all the Spackman family," who developed the jingle in partnership with an advertising agency in Ohio.

Back at the Double D, I'd asked Scott about the rumored return of the Spackmans. He paused for a short while before hedging his words, intimating a closeness to the Spackman family which I did not try to see if he'd like to elaborate on. Scott said there is such a rumor but added that it is one that "stems from hope."

After spending a few days off-the-grid among the people in Monticello, you just have to hope that, as Bob Marley sings (piped throughout the park every four hours), "Every little thing is gonna be all right" for Indiana Beach State Park, for the lovely townies, and the loyal tourists. And if by chance there's a bit of trouble, there's a comfort in having visited a rare place which has first and foremost created a community, and a tourist trap second. Any way you spin it, there's nothing but goodness to be found.
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**This story (with links and accompanying images), by Alisa Hauser, originally appeared in the Aug. 17, 2010 edition of The Pipeline weekly e-newsletter, est. July 13, 2009. It may be reprinted with permission, and photo/story credit back to The Pipeline.

Images from Angels with Tails in Bucktown

If crowded sidewalks were any indication, a fun time was had by all at PAWS Chicago's Angels with Tails adoption drive, which took place this past Sunday afternoon along North Damen Avenue from 'The Intersection' to Fullerton.

For folks feeling the pinch of a tight economy and unable to have a pet in their lives at the present time, the event was like therapy, as well as a reminder that committed volunteers at no-kill shelters will go the extra mile to try to find new homes for furry residents, so more space can be made to accommodate more homeless pets, who're on the rise these days, prompting a flashback to when I wrote this story for the Homer Township/Lockport Sun newspaper about an animal shelter which had taken in drop-offs during a rough patch in the 80s. For others who are ready to adopt a first pet, or in some cases, like the couple who were sitting on a chair at Cynthia Rowley, and becoming acquainted with a Siamese cat, a soon-to-be third furry member of the family, it was a special day and a time to sign adoption papers.

A few words will accompany a few of these pics in the next Pipeline (Aug 24), as well as some stories and images by Bucktown resident and occasional contributor Lauren Kleiman, who reportedly made it all the way down Damen to visit most of the participating shops! Thanks to all who allowed me to snap a pic or conduct a brief 'street-side' interview.

Map for Angels with Tails: Today in Bucktown

Over 50 spots along North Damen between Six Corners and Fullerton will be hosting homeless pets today (Sun), from Noon to 4 PM. Here is a map.

Last Call Sidewalk Sale: Aug. 28-29

In August of 2009 there were 33 participants in the Wicker Park Bucktown Chamber Sidewalk Sale-- and I know because I had a bit more time on my hands back then, the chamber was still an advertiser, and I'd figured there was no better way to spend a Sunday than to annoy a now ex by bringing out ye old laptop to write capsules about each of the participants in the Aug. 17, 2009 Pipeline. This year, my energies are diminished, though enthusiasm still runs deep! I'll link to the sale poster because of the 33 sale participants last year, 8 have closed for business, or relocated. A few of the 8 were some of my favorite places to shop...

If you have the means to shop, please do so next weekend at the next sidewalk sale to help support these local businesses who will be offering up lots of late summer clearance deals. Click on poster to enlarge it, and see you at the sale!

Travel Issue, and the Week Ahead

After lots of 'bad vacation karma,' it happened: I had fun. No animals got sick. No illness. No deaths.

This week's issue was a lot of fun to experience and to write, and now it's back to the neighborhood at large.

World's Saddest Sign

Mistakes from the week past, and the week ahead

This past week, shortly before skipping town for the shores of Monticello, Indiana, and in a vacation-crazed haste, we posted a link to the Aug. 10th Pipeline on our personal Facebook page as well as the pages of the two anonymous peeps behind the 'Wicker Park' and 'Buck Town' pages.

Lo and behold, it was the incorrect link, aka a PRE-EDITED version, with lots and lots of mistakes. The good news is that the 2,500 people on the email list, and anyone that follows me on Twitter, or the BCO feed, all got the correct version. I returned from Indy three days later and my stomach sunk when I saw the subject header of, "---- ----- ---" which is what my near-to-final draft is titled, indicating that I'd must of clicked on the test Hotmail message that I'd sent to myself and cut and pasted that Web link, rather than the link from the final version.

Thus, we apologize for the mistake and anyone who was exposed to our illiterate blabberings. Rest assured we do consider ourselves to be real writers capable of writing, and we are grateful to the half dozen or so small and awesome advertisers who see value in the existence of The Pipeline and who pay us for our time through their paid ads (and to think they thought it was just about their news!!! Nope, this is the "US" part of the pipeline and without ads from valued sponsors we are SOL or have to do something else.... readers of the past 70 weekly issues might know how we feel at this point, so no, we're not SOL, just really busy.)

Though not to make excuses, but to compensate for the 20 to 50-plus weekly hours we invest into this 'labor of love,' or "bane of our existence," depending on the day, there is a lot of "speed-writing" going on, and just like there are certain babies only a mother could love, there are many rough drafts- in fact all drafts- that should be viewed only by their creators and editors who are tasked with helping to turn said drafts into something readable. So all you people who ask me how I come up with all these stories, or write so much each week, if you unfortunately happened to see the incorrect link you know it's just acting like a freakazoid on speed at the keyboard, with no actual speed, just caffeine. Rewriting as you go, is, in my opinion, what causes writer's block. Don't look! Pretend you're blind and can't see the very screen from which all your innermost thoughts flow! Write a shitty unintelligible first draft and then be sure to link to it and go off the grid for a few days!

If you're reading The Pipeline on Facebook, please consider signing up for our private- aka no sharing with anyone or any entity- list, where I'd be far less likely to make such an idiotic mistake since I do take a good hard look at the subject header before putting my finger on the trigger that is the "send" button.

In other news, we have a 'Travel Issue' on tap for Tuesday's edition!

We are happy to report that there is far 'more than corn in Indiana,' as the saying, developed by an ad agency in Ohio for the Spackman family which owned the park for 82 of its 85 years of existence, goes. While we'd anticipated only posting a few pics from the trip, after being exposed to "Hoosier Hospitality" and meeting so many amazing and dedicated and proud and resilient people in the small tourist town of Monticello, it just seemed like we should take our tag-line of "People inspired, community driven" on the road and peek into a very different community than the one here in Wicker Park and Bucktown.