Wednesday, January 11, 2023
A PICTURE OF HEALTH
A group of Shelby County Chamber and Fastpace Health representatives - Janet Wallace, Kylie McCrory, Andrea Eikman, Lisa Lee, Ana Varela, Chelsea Erwin and Courtney Chapella - participate in a ribbon cutting for the new business at 1778 E. State Road 44 yesterday morning. “We've opened up probably 20 clinics in the last two years in Indiana,” Lisa Lee, Clinical Director, said of Fastpace Health. The Shelbyville urgent care facility plans to be open seven days a week starting this spring. “Our hours are variable at the moment because we’re getting staffing up to par,” Lee said. The clinic is currently open 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. | photo by ANNA TUNGATE
NOTEBOOK:
The Shelbyville Board of Public Works yesterday agreed to dismiss the long-standing nuisance case regarding a woodworking business at 1029 South Miller Ave. Randy Sturgill, the business owner and property tenant, has cleaned up materials that had been outside an exterior fence. However, the city planning department is concerned about the recent unapproved construction of a lean-to on the property. City Plan Director Adam Rude said he intends to draft an unsafe building order in order to begin the legal process of removing the addition. “The roof of those additions, one of them appears to just be resting on the fence, so we have serious concerns about the safety of the addition,” Rude said.
The Board of Works also approved a motion giving the owners of 554 W. Taylor Street, who are purchasing the property on contract, a month to remove clutter and debris from the property. The owners said they are waiting on a dumpster to arrive from Indianapolis. If the property remains an issue, the board will revisit the case Feb. 14.
In other business, the Board of Works approved the retirement of Patrolman Charles “Chuck” Curry, effective Feb. 9, after 22 years of service. The board also approved the resignation of Det. Sergeant Deborah Tilford. Her husband, David Tilford, recently retired from the Sheriff’s Department, and they are planning to move to Florida, Police Chief Mark Weidner said. The board also approved Peyten Smith, a Shelbyville native and resident and current member of the Franklin Police Department, to be hired as an officer on the Shelbyville Police Department.
City officials will convene to discuss traffic on Belvedere Drive in Highpointe addition after a resident complained to the Shelbyville Board of Public Works yesterday. Robert Deen, who has lived on Belvedere Drive since 2008, said an increasing number of vehicles are cutting through the area from Progress Road to Kroger, creating unsafe conditions. “The speed going down Belvedere Drive is crazy,” he said, adding that he has contacted police and the street department regarding methods of slowing traffic. The posted speed limit is 20 mph. Mayor Tom DeBaun said he would discuss the issue with the Street Commissioner and Chief of Police.
Board of Works members yesterday extended their condolences to the Showers family following the passing of former Republican Party Chair J.R. Showers III last weekend. “We just lost a good man,” former Mayor and current Shelby County Democrat Party Chair Bob Williams said. “J.R. Showers was an honorable man who I spent a lot of time with and had a lot of fun with. He’s going to be missed.”
The Shelby County Board of Zoning Appeals last night issued a $1,000 fine and gave Baldev Virk one month to remove semi-trucks and trailers parked on his property at 7165 West Old State Road 252, Edinburgh. The county planning staff received a complaint June 2022 regarding the use of the property for a trucking business and has repeatedly reached out to the owner to bring the property into compliance. Attorney Jeff Bate, representing Baldev, appeared to discuss the issue with the board and said his client has been in the process of obtaining a traffic and safety study in order to potentially apply for a home business variance. Board members, concerned about the lack of response and lack of resolution, issued the fine with the potential for an additional fee of $50 per day if a corrective plan is not presented within a month.
In other action, the county Board of Zoning Appeals last night unanimously approved construction of a pole barn for storage use of residential items as the primary use of 3853 N. Morristown Road, Shelbyville, in the Little Marion area. Petitioner Mike Wilson, who has owned the property for approximately three years, said he and his family have a collection of vehicles to be stored, but aren’t sure if they will move to the property or not. “We don’t know if we’re going to build (a home), the way prices are right now,” Wilson said. He reiterated there would be no commercial activity on the property.
The county BZA also continued an on-going variance request regarding 7096 E. Short Blue Ridge Road, Shelbyville, to the Feb. 14 meeting.
HOOSIER NEWS: Most of Indiana could use more precipitation, but conditions have improved in some western counties and to the south along and near the Ohio River. Nearly all of Northwest Indiana remains Abnormally Dry, according to the latest USDA Drought Monitor. Shelby County and all of central Indiana is listed as in “Moderate Drought.”
NATIONAL NEWS: The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission is weighing action on the indoor air pollution caused by gas-powered stoves. Such appliances are in use in 40 percent of homes in the U.S. and emit nitrogen dioxide, carbon monoxide and fine particulate matter at levels that the EPA has linked to respiratory illness. The data is particularly worrisome when it comes to kids and air pollutants from stoves: A new study published last month in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health found that over 12 percent of childhood asthma cases in the United States could be attributed to the usage of gas stoves. (Bloomberg/Numlock)
This Week in Shelby County" works by George L. Stubbs Sr. are owned by the Shelby County Historical Society (Grover Center) and used with permission.
THIS DAY IN SHELBY COUNTY HISTORY
News around Shelbyville and the surrounding area as reported on or about this date in history. Selections are curated from the Shelby County Public Library Genealogy Department.
20 YEARS AGO: 2003
The year 2002 marked two milestones for Harry Meeke, owner and president of Mickey’s T-Mart: 25 years in business in January and 50 years in the grocery business in October, Steve Talbert reported for The Shelbyville News. Mickey’s T-Mart was opened during the blizzard of 1978 at the former Thrif-T-Mart, 748 S. Harrison St. The caricature of Meeke, which appeared on signs and in advertisements, had been drawn from a snapshot by a friend in Illinois. The first two years of the business had been slow, but after that, business grew steadily, Meeke said. Mel Bragg, an employee since September 1978, was grocery manager. Harry’s wife, Brenda, had been cashier and head cashier. Except while in college, their son Brian, store manager, and daughter Pam Dearinger, assistant store manager, had worked at the store from the beginning. Meat cutter Doyt Moore had worked at Mickey’s since day one. He also worked at the store’s previous incarnations: Louden’s and Thrif-T-Mart. Eileen Miller, the deli manager, had been employed at Mickey’s T-Mart for 22 years. Before that, she was a waitress at Chicken and Steak Inn for 18 years.
30 YEARS AGO: 1993
About half of the buses at Morristown Elementary and High schools did not make it to school due to bad weather. Shelby Eastern and Southwestern had been the two districts in the county to remain open while Northwestern and Shelbyville Central Schools were closed.
40 YEARS AGO: 1983
Triton Central Spanish teacher and coach Colleen Sexton, 23, resigned her positions to compete in the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. She hoped to be on the U.S. Women’s Team Handball team.
50 YEARS AGO: 1973
Square dancing classes had become a big attraction at the Civic Center. A newspaper photo showed Village Squares dancers Paul and Betty Joseph and Elaine and John Heppner.
A small child locked herself in a bathroom in Waldron. With no phone in the house, the frantic babysitter flagged down a passing car and asked the driver to summon the fire department. At a service station, the driver explained the situation to the attendant, and he called firemen. Since the driver didn’t know the address, firemen had to go to the filling station first to follow the driver to the house. Upon reaching the home, firemen were told the child had let herself out of the bathroom. Waldron fire officials told The Shelbyville News that “the family would probably want to remain anonymous.”
60 YEARS AGO: 1963
Herrin Brown and Meredith Hill formed Brown and Hill Auction Service, to be located on the second floor of the Strand Building. The building that formerly housed the Noble Street Auction Co., 636 S. Noble St., which had been operated by Hill, was put up for sale.
70 YEARS AGO: 1953
The Guinea Pig Food Market, corner of Miller and Hendricks Street, started opening on Sundays, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.
The major upset of the county high school basketball season occurred in Paul Cross Gym as little Mt. Auburn, which previously hadn’t won a game all season, topped favored Morristown, 40-35. Darrell Wilhite, Willard Turner and Ronnie Grindstaff led Mt. Auburn in scoring. Wayne Fansler was coach.
80 YEARS AGO: 1943
Tom Winterrowd, of Flat Rock, was declared ineligible to play for the Flat Rock Cardinals in the county tournament since he had become a student at Purdue University for the spring semester.
James Emmert, Shelbyville attorney and former Shelby Circuit Court Judge, was sworn in as state attorney general. He was the first Shelby County citizen to serve in an elective state office since L.J. Hackney had been a Supreme Court justice 50 years prior. L.T. Michener, of Shelbyville, had been state attorney general in 1886, although he was elected without carrying Shelby County.
90 YEARS AGO: 1933
Between 25 and 30 patients attended the free clinic at Major Hospital. All needed medical attention of some type, Dr. W.C. McFadden said.
100 YEARS AGO: 1923
“Hoosier Romance,” a motion picture based on a James Whitcomb Riley poem, was displayed in the basement of the Methodist church at Waldron.
INCIDENTS
Thefts were reported in the 2000 block of S 550 W, 100 block of E. Taylor St. and 100 block of W. Hendricks St., Shelbyville.
JAIL BOOK-INS: Barbara J. Lux, 66, possession of meth; Justin D. Green, 28, criminal trespass, resisting law enforcement.
OBITUARIES
None today
IN MEMORY: International Relations & Lipstick
Editor’s note: Well-known Shelbyville resident Linda Brown passed away last week (obituary here). A gathering of Linda’s family and friends will be held today, 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., at the First United Methodist Church. A Celebration of Linda’s life will follow at 1 p.m., with the Revs. Colin and Heather Cress officiating. Linda’s son, Jason Brown, will share thoughts on behalf of the family at today’s service. His prepared remarks are published below.
by JASON BROWN
It is the night of Mom’s passing and I am a bit emotional, obviously, so please bear with me. I have a flood of memories and thoughts flowing through my head. So, I am sure I will tend to meander quite a bit, but I can promise you I will eventually get to the point. Have faith.
A working title: “International Relations & Lipstick - All Rights Reserved.” (My comments, however, may not quite fit in the “reserved” category.)
Disclaimer: Contained is “my version” of events. This writing is a constant thought in my brain and a new "tool" I chose to hopefully assist in the grieving process. Please allow my digression, and my attempts to keep any narcissistic tendencies out of the way of the greater message. Mom, I have no doubt you may have commentary and/or alternate recollections. I hope you trust me enough to memorialize this work and deliver the message. Have faith. Let this serve as an open letter, at the moment, of my thoughts, as they come, in preparation of presenting to you the memories of my mother, Linda Lou (Bonner) Brown, born May 9, 1941, called to heaven January 4, 2023.
At the moment of this screen grab, above, from The Indy Star dated January 28, 2011, I’d been a cop for 15 years and a Detective for roughly three more. Still learning (constantly learning). Constantly scrolling for information. Anything that could spark a lead. As a controlled habit, I would frequently check the news wires, keeping an eye on “the world down to the community.” Always in order: International, National, State, Local.
To give you further context of where my head would drift during this time, this was eight days before my twins were born. Needless to say, l was a bit preoccupied.
Imagine sitting at your desk, in CID (Criminal Investigation Division), probably slurping back your fifth cup of coffee. Nested juxtaposed a sign hanging in your office that reads, “I drink coffee for your protection.”
A bit of indulgence here, if I may. As a “Union Township Brown,” it has been instilled in who I am that humor makes everything a little better. Now, while this was a perfect distraction technique, and studied in the realm of Psychology 101 by high-schoolers, it is also a long-crafted, finely-honed coping method and a trusted Brown family skill whose roots have been well documented and has been thoroughly and certifiably wrought with humor and self-deprecation for centuries. This is what has "gotten” us Browns through some of the most-tenderest moments throughout our history.
I can tell you with great pride of achievement, I took this entrenched life skill to another level as a cop. When dealing with the absolute worst of what a community has to offer, you must train yourself to go numb, to a point, but remain vigilant in all your efforts to exude: Empathy, courtesy, respect, honor.
The day I walked into the doctor's office to perform the interview portion of the "psych-eval," which was a pre-qualification for my hiring at the police department, the doc read over my preliminary reports and the results of my Minnesota Multiphase Personality Inquiry. He looked up at me and said in his machine-cadenced voice: “It says here that you would be inclined to make a sarcastic remark.” Knowing full well that the immediate answer in my head of, “Well, I am Linda Brown’s son!” would not suffice, I quickly mustered the answer my “training and experience” prepared me for, which was thus: “Well, I have learned throughout my life that, in certain circumstances, humor is the best way that I and others close to me deal with these instances.”
I later learned the term “mini-traumas,” referring to these situations that may cause distress, fear, and a sense of helplessness. I'm here to tell you, when faced with a multitude of these “mini-traumas” in a career, I have surmised how “mini” they are is up to you and your self-care.
Now, back to the matter at hand, concerning my politically correct answer that my future employment was hanging on, and perceived by me as a full-throated, frontal assault and some kind of dark lurid test on my sarcastic tendencies, all of which were on display in exquisite diplomatic transparency. Regarding the exact answer, I really don’t recall word for word what was said, it was over 26 years ago, but I am quite certain I opined about how such humor should only be shared in certain instances where it was approved for and by the audience, and then and only then, should you, yada-yada-yada. All of which included those closely honed skills that have served as the cornerstone of my interpersonal relationship encounters throughout my life. Some instances with great fanfare, and also having the occasional reminder that not all fanfare is attributable to joy.
Hypothetically speaking, this would be akin to communicating and, at times, deciphering what an exchange student (who had just landed at the airport and who obviously wasn't fully forthcoming during the application phase of the process with respect to his level of spoken English) was trying to say when they were pointing to a slip of paper, repeating "Don't Mom." We learned this poor fella was given the wrong slip of paper listing his host-mom's name and address. It was quickly surmised the true owner of this slip was most likely the girl over in the corner, holding what was probably this cat's slip. How did I know, well, for starters she was crying.
So, there I am viewing my Mother on the front page of the IndyStar “above-the-fold,” lying supine on a Tempur-Pedic mattress, sporting a facial gesture that I can only describe as an “oooh-face.” Imagine my horror.
You see, Mom has always had a knack for interjecting herself into my life, sometimes in uncomfortable moments, to let me know she’s thinking of me, and just maybe I should give her a call.
Mom was “known throughout the land” as a “Mary Kay Lady.” Now, I could go on for hours talking about my life as a "Mary Kay kid," but maybe I'll save that for another time. For over 45 years, Mom made people feel good about themselves and promoted women’s health and safety. She was a true diplomat involving all things pertaining to what I like to call “International Relations & Lipstick.”
Becky Bishopp was Mom’s close friend and colleague. Becky and her late husband Dick were also Jennifer’s and my employer in high school, but they were more than that: they were family, they were “church-family.” Becky was also a Mary Kay customer of Mom’s, and, in all honesty, the list would be quite a bit shorter if I were to just produce a post-it note with those few names that were not one of Mom’s cherished clients.
Becky and Mom were single-handedly responsible, in my opinion, for bringing the world to Shelby County, Ind. Mom cherished every moment she spent placing international exchange high school students into host-homes throughout this community. They were all her “kids.”
Finally, a girl. Mom thought it best to wait until I go off to college to host a daughter: interesting.
Samantha, Caio's sister, married Andrew Tribby, her Morristown High School love. Samantha and Andrew now live in Indianapolis, Ind., where Sammy is also a Heart Healer at Hotel Bravo Sanctuary for Senior Cats. Cats: Now I wonder where Sam would have experienced a warped appreciation for a throng of berserk cats? Yes, Mom, I'm sure you do have an answer.
Ah, our Brazilian family. First, let me be very clear, Mom loved ALL of her “kids,” and there are a vast number of them. They were all so very special to her. But, Brazil had Mom’s heart.
You see, Mom allowed me, her baby, to “select'' one international family member to live with us. Since Jennifer and Jay were in college, Mom still wanted me to have a sibling at home.
Back then, this was pre-internet. So, we had these great big, huge binders full of paper-punched handwritten exchange student profiles with polaroid pictures stapled to the corner that I would spend hours perusing. Taking copious notes in intricate detail. Something reminiscent of a child flipping to the back of the JC Penney’s or Sears catalog post-Thanksgiving dinner while scribbling a letter for Mom, to give Santa.
Prior host-families had a tendency to choose a student with the highest GPAs, the student with the best penmanship, a “picture perfect” child. And let’s be honest, the schools wanted this also! Well, in my adolescent eyes, that just wasn’t working out with my social activities. Which is to say, I didn't want to pal around with some stuffed-shirt, cramping my style!
Mom had the idea to throw "Welcome to Maplewood Farm" parties for each new batch of international exchange students prior to school starting. We met with all the exchange students, their host-siblings, went over the standard rules, regulations, housekeeping issues, and then ate tacos and pizza and, you know, "other traditional American food." (Much later, after I graduated college and Mom retired from her international duties, this void of “togetherness” was filled when Mom had the idea to host “Brown’s Harvest Party” which soon morphed into our family's sacred “Chili Cook-Off.”) Mom organized these "Welcome Parties" so that year's crew of exchange students would hopefully see a familiar and helpful face, not if, but when they were lost in their textbook, in the school hallway, or in life.
I needed to find someone I could relate to, and them, me. So, as for choosing my “Brother,” I had a goal in mind. Go against the grain. Find someone no one else would pick. Choose me! (I mean, let’s face it, in school I had this long gorgeous flowing mullet.) Trust the process. Have Faith!
I knew I would select a male (there was no way Mom was allowing me to pick a girl). He had to be from South America. My early-human investigative nuances and techniques told me that the lovely South Americans are cool, laid back and know how to have a good time. Even keeled.
Bolivia, Argentina, Mexico, Columbia, Trinidad and Tobago, Ecuador, Chile, ah yes, tell me more about Brazil.
I found him! The brother of Samantha Ortiz: Caio Fabricio Ortiz Jr. His qualifications were impeccable. Meaning, he barely made the book! Average student with “great potential.” My plan worked: he is my brother, his sister is my sister, his mom, Sheila, is my Mom 2.0. His Father, Caio Sr., My Papi! See, Mom couldn’t turn me loose into the world just then; instead, she brought it to me.
I learned culture. I learned, sometimes the hard way, certain hand gestures although benign in our culture may be vulgar in others. “Pull” in Portuguese is "Puxar" (pronounced "pooshar"). This can easily throw a Brazilian off. So, if you see a Portuguese speaker in an English speaking environment approaching a door that says "push,” and they slam into the door while simultaneously attempting to open it, try not to laugh. Understand the culture. Then laugh together!
This brings me to the language barriers. Sammy, I'll again tell you, “I humbly thank you for teaching me some quick survival Portuguese before I was afforded the opportunity and jetted off to spend a month with your family in Brazil, while you remained up here in the States.” My dearest Brazilian sister, the traditional Brazilian Rice & Bean welcome feast your mother prepared for my first in-country meal was, in fact, “TeZao”. However, it became "immediately apparent" that this was not the proper response I should have offered when asked by my dearest “Mama Sheila”, the literal person I spoke of when I proclaimed “Brother from another mother,” who in her sweet ESL Portuguese accent, asked: “Jason, how did you like the meal?” Life lessons. Judging the sheer mortified response by everyone, including those in the kitchen who dropped what sounded like a metal pot, the words “Good” and “Cool” in my notes probably weren’t aggressive enough adjectives to have adequately described this slang term, in hindsight.
I used to joke about being a “worldly man” by the time I graduated high school. Well, I was. I just didn't understand it yet. Mom taught me the importance in understanding other cultures, other worlds. She taught me what strength, compassion and resiliency look like.
She taught me what a strong, supported, and beautiful, woman was capable of. How the best advice in overcoming adversity is to have faith in yourself, and in others.
A brief caveat: These life lessons didn’t go without failures, but Mom always made sure said failures were attached to a lesson.
With Mary Kay, Mom spent over 45 years uplifting and empowering those around her. Making them feel special, accepted, and loved. When coupled with her global hobby, come to think of it, Mom made a career of being a mother to the world, and strived day and night to make it beautiful.
When the decision came for me to part from a career in which I had spent nearly 26 years cultivating, I would frequently ask my God for assistance, guidance, a sign. If Mom's dementia hadn't grown more severe at that time, she would have encouraged me to have faith. So, I retired from the Shelbyville Police Department CID after accepting an offer with a Major Case Fraud Investigations Unit in the Global Commercial Insurance Industry. But I work from home. Yeah, I brought the world to me.
I have been at my new job now for a little over a year. Mom died on January 4, 2023 at 9:55 a.m. We will be celebrating her life on January 11, 2023. On January 12, 2023, 1/12, the family will hold a private service to place Mom’s remains at rest. Do me yet another favor, remember the number 112.
Mom received numerous awards and incentives throughout her Mary Kay career (including at least five vehicles). One of my fondest memories was Mom explaining a particular piece of jewelry she had just received, which I quickly learned had a motivational message.
Again, with the transparency, I had never heard this before, and I was quite young, so for years this stuck with me, and its small iterations would manifest themselves into whatever I was trying to accomplish. Mom displayed a gold necklace on which was a glass or, most likely, a crystal heart. Mary Kay didn’t skimp on the awards for their employees. They awarded nice, custom, one-of-a-kind jewelry specifically commissioned for their amazing workforce. Their model then was: our beauty consultants are our “advertisement,” so they took what monies were to be used for a national ad campaign and invested it in an employee incentive program. They had faith.
But the special awards always had a message. Inside the crystal or glass heart lay a single mustard seed. Loose, it was, rattling around inside when Mom would shake it. The message: Matthew 17:20-21. He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”
One last indulgence, if I may, and if you’re still reading this, thank you, and also much gratefulness to Kristiaan Rawlings and the Addison Times for allowing me this great honor.
The last lesson I cannot attribute to Mom alone. No, Mom, I do think you are a Saint, just hear me out.
Mom loved me and my college buddy, John Carr. I loved my Mom and the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame. John Carr loved the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame and my Mom. Among many, Mom was there for John when he suddenly lost his Mother, Cheryl, during our second year at Vincennes University. Mom cherished John’s calls every Mother’s Day. After all, he was one of her “kids.” Mom saw a need. Someone, that needed to be uplifted, she taught me how to uplift and love others. As for John, well, he just saw an opportunity to add to the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame fan base.
In the movie “Rudy” there is a scene where Rudy Ruetteger (Sean Astin) is asking Father Cavanaugh (Robert Prosky)“What more can I do? Have I done enough?” Father Cavanaugh answered something to the effect of: In all my years of enlightenment and theology, there were two incontrovertible facts: That there is a God, and I ain’t him! Father Cavanaugh went on to muse that we ask for God’s assistance in our time, God answers the requests in God’s time. That has always stuck with me. But Mom, you brought the message to full clarity. Have Faith!
Remember the sign I asked God for? Did I make the right decision? Have I done all I can to prepare? Also, do you recall the date I asked you to remember? Well, my “unit number” at the police department was: #112.
This was not planned, well, not by us. In the myriad of emotion Dad, Jennifer, Jay, Kim and I were weighted with, while seated around Mike and Lana Freeman's table, it didn’t dawn on me.
Thanks Mom. I get it. Just know that I am so very appreciative of you and everything that you taught us all.
And, as an added bonus, every now and then, and when she could get away with or afford it, she would sprinkle on a little something extra. Just because.
As I complete this writing, I am physically and emotionally drained. Exhausted. But, extremely full of love, happiness, and joy. Ready to run through a brick wall! You see, not only do I now fully understand that I would not be who I am without my Mother, but, Kim's oldest, Brayton? Well, he and Holly just had their first baby, and our first grandchild, 11 days early. I'm a Papi!
Spreading her message of faith, love, family, self-care, acceptance, laughter, and food, Linda L. Brown made my home, my community, my state, and the world a better place. You can too. Nothing is impossible. You only need faith, the measure of a mustard seed…and a Tempur-Pedic mattress!