Deming Park's Origins

One of Terre Haute’s shining assets is Deming Park. It is the largest park in Terre Haute, consisting of more than 177 acres. While working as a day camp counselor at the park, I was told many stories surrounding the park’s origin. One story reported that a great mansion sat in Deming Park and all of Ohio Boulevard was its driveway. Another claimed the land was gifted to the city by a rich resident of Terre Haute. No one could produce any facts about the real history of the park.

I have decided to answer the mystery of Deming Park’s origins. I now know why there is so much lore surrounding the park. Hardly any paperwork, information or stories can be found about the Deming family. After scouring countless websites and records, I stumbled upon page 162 from History of Indiana from its exploration to 1922, Volume 3 by Logan Esarey, William F. Cronin. This particular page documented the creation of Deming Park.

Demas Deming Jr., was born in Terre Haute on April 4, 1841. An ambitious man, be became President of First National Bank of Terre Haute at the age of twenty seven. He also built the Deming Hotel and was President of the Deming Land Company, located east of Nineteenth Street and south of Wabash Ave. Deming Jr. was a philanthropist, donating much of his time and money to charity. In 1921, the Terre Haute Board of Park Commissioners sought to build a public park on land west of Fruitridge Ave and North of Poplar Street. Demas Deming sold 177 acres for $155,000. He kept none of the money, giving $100,000 to Rose Polytechnic (now Rose Hulman) as a memorial to his parents. The remaining $55,000 was used to improve Ohio Boulevard, making it a beautiful entrance to the park. It is still unclear whether the entrance sign with the Deming name is from the $55,000 road improvement project or the entrance to the Deming Land Company. Either way, Demas Deming’s land has allowed Deming Park to be enjoyed for almost ninety years.

Strawberries for All

Every year in early June, a special event takes place at 630 Ohio Street. The 2009 Strawberry Festival celebrated its twenty-first year serving strawberry treats to the citizens of Terre Haute. Hosted by the First Congregational Church, the festival is used as a fundraiser for ministry projects. Usually hosted on a Thursday, a portion of Ohio Street is closed from 9am to 9pm for the estimated 11,000 festival attendees.

The entire community pulls together to make the festival a success. Member and non-church-member volunteers work as cashiers and in food preparation. Coca-Cola donates a truck full of soft drinks. The festival typically uses 7,800 gallons of strawberries, 5,840 gallons of ice cream and 11,000 biscuits, supplied by B&B Foods. Terre Haute Police provide security and road closure for the festivities. Local bands often donate their time to entertain the people enjoying their strawberry treats.

Having attended this event for two years in a row, I always enjoy myself. The strawberry treat is delicious,

music entertaining, and company superb. I am glad Terre Haute has a yearly gathering to promote community and philanthropy. The Strawberry Festival is such a beloved event; a strawberry has been painted in the middle of the road where the festival takes place.

History Demolished

While researching structures for earlier blogs, I was awed by the magnificence of ISU’s oldest buildings. But why can’t I find these buildings on campus? Tthe oldest remaining structure built by the university is Normal Hall, constructed in 1909. What caused the forty-four year gap between the establishment of ISU and its oldest building?

I found out that every building built before 1909, has either been burned down or demolished. Who could have ordered the destruction of these mighty structures? Ralph Tirey was President of ISU from 1933 to 1953. The conclusion of his presidency also concluded the existence of ISU’s oldest buildings. He allowed Old Main, North Hall, and Training School to be annihilated. Old Main was built in 1888 to replace Normal School, which was destroyed by fire. Old Main was the only building Indiana State had to offer in until North Hall was erected in 1895. Both building were sentenced to destruction in 1950. Three years later, the Training School, built in 1905, followed suit. Today, these buildings would be over one hundred years old. The age of its buildings represents a university’s age. Is it any wonder that we are not publicized as an old university? Without visual proof, the truth is hard to see.

Pictures shown below are: Old Main, North Hall, and Training School

Why Here?

As a student attending Indiana State University, I take for granted that it has always been here. Although it is common knowledge that Indiana State was established in 1865, I have never stopped to consider why Terre Haute was chosen as its location.
On December 20, 1865, the General Assembly of the State of Indiana passed a House Bill to establish a State Normal School. The purpose of this new school would be to educate and train teachers. The Board of Directors searched for a place to establish the school throughout the state. Funding for the project was low, so potential cities were asked to donate anything they could spare. Terre Haute was the only community in the state to offer a combined donation of land, money, and buildings for the new school. Thrilled by such extensive funding, the Board quickly named Terre Haute as the Normal School’s official location. Construction of The Normal School began in 1867, but was destroyed by fire twenty years later. The City of Terre Haute rallied to support the school, raising money for its immediate reconstruction. It was rebuilt in less than one year, and “Old Main” remained a structural symbol for Indiana State University until it was torn down in 1950.
From the ashes of tragedy, Terre Haute’s ancestors rallied and saved Indiana State. Without the initiative and care given by this town, taking the university for granted might never have been an option.

The Tragedy of Reeve Hall

On a campus more than one hundred forty five years old, one might think to find buildings reminiscent of an age gone by. Buildings built in the early twentieth century regularly demonstrate attention to detail missing in today’s structures.

Reeve Hall, built in 1925, was such a building. Hand sculpted gargoyles adorned the building, and fireplaces made the building have a “homey” feel. For over forty five years, it housed Indiana State University’s female students. During World War II, the building played its part to support the war effort. Students vacated the building from 1944 - 1946, allowing it to be used as Navy barracks for the V-5 & V-12 programs.

In 1971, the building was permanently closed as a dormitory due to rising costs and increased residence hall vacancies. The massive Sycamore Towers, constructed in 1965, became the main residence for students. Until Reeve Hall’s demolition in 1998, the building was used as faculty offices and classrooms. The handcrafted gargoyles now adorn the legs of a semicircle bench commemorating Reeve Hall’s site.

Such a beautiful building never should have been allowed to become run down and demolished. Such an important piece of history should have been seen as precious, not a problem. Reeve Hall’s closing and destruction was an unfortunate waste of history.

Its All About the Light

In today’s world of digital "super-cameras," the idea of lighting rarely plays a role in an “average Joe’s” picture taking. Imagine a world where automatic flash and focus did not exist. How could people take pictures in such a world? The answer is highly trained professional photographers. Martin’s Photo Shop, located within the Kaufman Building, was a renowned photography studio established in 1906. On the cover of my textbook, An American Hometown: Terre Haute, Indiana, 1927, the Martin’s Photo Shop is easily distinguished by large windows on the third floor of the building.

According to Tod Nation, proprietor of that section Kaufman Building, the windows on the third floor were originally the same size as every other window. Frank Martin had to knock out a section of the building between two windows in order to capitalize on the natural light. After Frank Martin’s death, his sons expanded the business to include the second floor of the Kaufman Building, consequently resulting in the large window seen on the second floor. One hundred and four years later, the Martin’s sign is still hanging in front of the Wabash Street stairwell entrance. Whether the sign’s continued presence is due to the town’s respect for a historical landmark, or past owners not wanting to pay for its removal, it is a wonderful glimpse into a world 104 years in the past. Ironically an iphone, not a camera, was used to capture the images of Martin’s sign and windows.

Unexpected Informant

What began as a dull trip to a local book store became a motivating learning experience. Looking for the best textbook prices, my boyfriend and I make the trek to Book Nation on Wabash Avenue. Once inside, I noticed an entire table filled with books about Terre Haute and Indiana history. Remembering my blog, I decided to skim through the books for inspiration. Seeing a picture of Paul Dresser, composer of “On the Banks of the Wabash,” I explained to my companion that he was the brother of Theodore Dreiser, for which a building is named on Indiana State's campus.

Overhearing our conversation, the proprietor asked if we were interested in Terre Haute history. I explained my unusual English assignment, and discovered the owner of Book Nation was a fantastic source of information. Todd Nation, City Council President, took the time to explain the history of the building in which we were standing. Unknowingly, I was standing in the building shown on the cover of my textbook.

The building’s official name is the Kaufman Building. It was built in 1908, making it the city’s first high rise office building. Nation informed us of stairways between street level stores that allowed customers access to the second and third story businesses. Since the picture was taken circa 1927, the building has housed many different tenants. In 1927, some of the businesses included: Kaufmann Grocery, Wade Duncan Café, Crescent Shining parlor, Federal Bake Shop, and Martin’s Photo Shop. In the year 2010 there is an Asian Market, Book Nation, Crossroads Café, and the Verve, a local bar. While the second and third floors once housed businesses, they are now used for either storage or private residences.

This unplanned learning experience showed me that if you keep your eyes open, knowledge will fall into your lap.

Starting the Process

For my English 305 class, I am required to keep a blog about my thoughts on the environment surrounding me. Since I did not grow up in Terre Haute, IN, learning or caring about the city's history never occurred to me. As I focus my attention to the mass of history surrounding my everyday life, I wonder why more care is not taken with the town's past. Even people who were born and raised in Terre Haute agree that it is a dying town. Their focus is not how to revive it, but how fast they can run from the city of their birth. Knowing Terre Haute used to be a Midwestern jewel between St. Lewis and Chicago, I think it is unfathomable how a town could go from being a jewel to a joke within 100 years. I look forward to learning the history and hidden quirks of the town I never thought about.