Memories of English

By: 
Jane Clark, Writers Bloc

The highway to English, Indiana, is one I’ve traveled hundreds of times. It winds snakelike through steep hills and scenic valleys. Just north of town on a hillside overlooking the highway is the cemetery, the final resting place of several of my Shields ancestors. They lie in neatly groomed plots, along with many other early settlers. The road continues around a curve then slopes down into the valley to the original site of English. But if you visit there today, you will not find a town—only streets and sidewalks—a mere skeleton of what was the thriving, peaceful little town of English.

Why did it disappear?  What happened to all the buildings?  Where are all the townspeople who used to walk down Main Street greeting friends and neighbors?

English, originally known as Hartford, was established in 1839, and the site chosen was on Camp Fork which provided easy access to water.  However, the benefit of that location also became a curse because of the floods that overtook the town on numerous occasions throughout its 150 year history. At the south edge of town, the old iron bridge still stands watch over Camp Creek, the despised creek that brought about the demise of the original town of English.

Three creeks merge near English to form Little Blue River, and flood waters in the area can swell the streams 20 feet in just a few hours. The worst flood on record was in 1979 when 13 feet of water covered the downtown, filling many businesses and homes to the ceiling. After that local officials made the decision to relocate the flood-prone town to higher ground.  Although it was not an easy undertaking, residents and business owners were willing to go ahead with the project to avoid future property losses.

With assistance from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), the Department of Housing and Urban Development, the Commerce Department and other state and federal agencies, property owners received federal disaster money for their homes and businesses.  More than 70 homes and over 30 businesses were affected. The new town of English was relocated to State Highway 64 and includes 600 acres that were annexed northeast of the old town. The buildings that were in the flood plain, about 75 percent of the town, had to be torn down.  

The relocation project was completed in the early 1990’s, however, the removal of all the buildings in downtown English did not occur until sometime later.  It was sad to see those vacant, lifeless structures, the remnants of this once bustling community.  Then one somber day I drove into town and saw that all the buildings were gone, leaving only faint traces of where the historic buildings once stood.  A feeling of emptiness came over me knowing I would never again walk into any of the old stores that once graced downtown English. 

In the old town of English, neighbors called out hellos across narrow streets as they walked from one business to another. It was a friendly, familiar setting.  In the new town of English, State Highway 64 divides the business section and requires a drive to get to the next store.  The town of English still exists, but it seems that its heart and soul are gone, left in the vacant lots of the old downtown, where memories of an earlier way of life still linger.

As I stroll down the abandoned sidewalks of English, visions of the past fill my head. There on Main Street was the movie theater where I had the rare treat of seeing a couple of movies starring my cowboy hero Gene Autry. In the late 1940’s a talent show was held at the theater. It was broadcast over a local radio station, and as we listened, we were thrilled to hear that my cousin Bill Shields won singing Al Jolsen’s “Mammy.”   He owned Bill’s Place, a restaurant next door to the theater.  His mom, my Aunt Roma, made the delicious pies that were a popular menu item.

The car dealership was on the west side of Main Street. My dad visited there whenever he needed repairs on his old flatbed truck. He did light hauling with the truck for Fountain Spring Cannery, my Granddad Lewis Shields’s canning factory.  That truck also served as our family transportation, and with four kids in the family at that time, we all had a specific spot to sit or stand when traveling to town or to visit relatives.  We lived near the canning factory, which was located about seven miles south of English.

 Near the bridge was the Linotype School. Students came from several states to learn this new method of setting type for the newspaper industry. One of my cousins attended there.

On the east side of Main Street near the bridge was The News Messenger and The Democrat newspaper office.  Residents were sure to get their name in the paper at least twice—once when they were born and again when they died. Those who could afford to buy the newspaper stayed well informed of the latest news. Our family, along with many others, had to get our news second hand from gossip learned every Saturday when we went to English to do our “tradin.”  That’s what my dad and mom called it when we went shopping.

On that same side of the street was a clothing store, which we rarely visited, and the Jay C Store where my mom and dad usually shopped every week. On the way home the air was filled with the aroma of fresh ground coffee mixed with the sweet smell of oranges and the pungent scent of celery. We were allowed to nibble on soda crackers or dry cereal as a special treat.

Sometimes on Saturdays my dad went to the barber shop for a haircut, and my mom would occasionally get to splurge by having her hair done at the beauty shop.   That was where some of the latest gossip was exchanged.

The bank and post office were located on opposite corners at the north side of town. These two businesses were frequented by nearly everyone. There was also a hardware store, a funeral home, an attorney’s office, a doctor and many other businesses. 

The small town of English and the surrounding area had enough partakers of the spirits to support two taverns. The Green Lantern was located north on Main Street and the other one was located on the south side by the bridge. It was Ed Moore’s Tavern, however, everyone usually just called it the Honkey Tonk.  I’m sure many a wife or girlfriend, and especially the church-going community, wished that those businesses didn’t exist.  From peering in the doorways, I remember them as dark, foreboding places, dimly lit, with stools lined up at the bar where men crouched over their drinks.

Listen closely—is that music I hear?  Could it be the English High School band leading the Founder’s Day parade? One year my cousin Jimmy marched in the parade playing his trombone.  I was very young and very impressed because he was someone who had actually marched in a parade.

Christmas was a special time because kids from around the county lined up to visit Santa at old Doc Gobel’s office. We were greeted by Santa who gave us a small brown sack filled with fruit, peanuts and candy. His office was located just one block off Main Street.

Every summer one of the most anticipated events when we were kids was the English Reunion. My brothers, my sister and I would get ready early in the afternoon and then wait impatiently until our dad finally told us to go get in the truck. He liked to arrive around dusk, and the lights of the carnival added to our excitement. My favorite memories of the reunion are riding on the “chair plane” and trying my luck at the fish pond where I hoped to win some glass beads or a kewpie doll.  It was at the reunion that I was introduced to the heavenly treat of cotton candy.

The English Reunion is held at the English Park where a statue of William H. English stands. The town of Hartford was renamed English in honor of this former U. S. congressman from Indiana. Throughout the years, the English Reunion has given county residents the opportunity to come together and enjoy amusement rides, entertainment, dances and good food. It was started in 1921, and even though the park is in the flood plain, I’m happy to say that the English Reunion still remains a part of the old town tradition, and William English still stands watch there.

Most residents of English welcomed the move to higher ground to avoid the devastation of more flooding, and the relocation was beneficial in a lot of ways.  There is now an attractive City Hall, a spacious new library, a community building, a subdivision of  beautiful new homes, and businesses dispersed along the highway and onto a couple of side streets. But it doesn’t feel like there is a downtown any more. While I’m sure new generations will fondly remember English as it is today, I’m still one of the few who lament the passing of the original town of English with all its history. I will always cherish my childhood memories of how English used to be.

Jane Clark is Co-Director of Writers Bloc and has been a member since 2005. She enjoys writing poems, memoirs, essays, and fiction. Her first novel True Allegiance is available on Amazon.com and Books A Million.com.

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