Greetings from Hoosier Nation.

The photograph above is the farmstead of Henry Rose in Brown County, Indiana. He was my great-great grandfather. The gentlemen in the automobile are unidentified. A small sign on the siderunner of the car reads: International Harvester Company. The standard who, what, and why are as unknown as the men. [click on the photo to enlarge]

The when is about 1904. A more precise explanation of the where is Kelly Hill about four miles south of Nashville, Indiana, along what is now State Road 46 on the way to Bloomington. This is about one mile south of the West Gate to Brown County State Park.

The house and other buildings are gone and the property now belongs to others.

Henry Rose bought this property, eighty acres "more or less," for $30 from John C. and Sarah Bennington on December 21, 1885, in "the West half of the South West quarter of Section Thirty five (35) Township Nine (9) Range two (2) east."

He and his family sold the property April 12, 1923, to Frank Gentry for $1400, subject to "a certain School Fund mortgage of $400."

[Thanks to my cousin, Sandy Seitz Cain, Brown County Recorder, who confirmed some of the information above after I couldn't read my own handwriting following a visit to her office. The record of purchase is in Deed Record 11, p. 309.]

And so, it begins.


That is St. Simons Island. This was 1983.

I was working at the Atlanta Historical Society and was invited by Bea Yancey to drive with her down to the island for vacation. Bea worked part time at Swan House with Nancy Lester and was dating Frank DeLoach, the founder of the Coastal Bank of Georgia. Frank didn't want Bea driving alone on that big stretch of road between Atlanta and the coast. Since I had no plans for a vacation at the time, I said yes.

We rode in Bea's classic Mercedes, a gorgeous light green with tan leather interior. Bea picked me up and we headed for the coast. Shortly after we were outside of the city, Bea suggested I open the picnic basket in the back seat - and pop the bottle of champagne. I could tell Bea was my kind of gal!

When we were on St. Simons, I spent the week in Frank's son's room. On one of our last nights on the island, Frank, Bea, and I went to dinner at the Cloister on Sea Island - jacket and tie required. I hadn't packed for any evening events and had only brought Polo shirts, khaki shorts, and my all-time favorite World Cup tennis shoes (I'd kill to still be able to get those.)

Frank suggested I wear one of his son's jackets and lend me a tie. Not having met Frank Jr., I didn't realize two things: he had horrible taste and was about twice my size - height and width. So, I enter the Cloister dining room decked out in the loudest plaid jacket you can imagine (*reminds me of one of my favorite cartoons - two men standing around at a cocktail party, and one asks the other about the second guy's tie: "You have a volume control for that thing?").

In the meantime, we didn't bring a tie, so asked for one from the maitre'd, since the club has a hat rack that holds ties for gentlemen who have arrived without one. So, he gives me a wide-cut tie printed in a bold floral design. Perfect with a plaid jacket, huh?

Though there is nothing I can do about the tacky taste, we did solve the problem of the jacket that was clearly too big for me. Being short, with shorter arms, Frank Jr.'s cuffs were somewhere around my fingertips. No problem. I ate my shrimp and crab with the sleeves held up by rubber bands!

But it was a glorious week. For a number of years, I went to St. Simons Island with fond memories of that week with Bea and Frank. Best of all, since I didn't have my own car, Frank let me borrow one of his - a baby-blue Cadillac convertible with white leather interior.

I cruised the island with that Cadillac practically floating on air. My first day out, with the top down, the sun shining, and the wind whipping through what little hair I still had in those days, I turned on the car's radio and the the first song up was Spandau Ballet.

"I know this much is True,
This is the sound of my soul."




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