Neely Addition

I grew up in Muncie Indiana, in an area known as Neely Addition. It was bordered roughly on the east by the County Fairgrounds and on the west by Ball State Teacher’s College. The southern boundary was Neely Ave and stretched to Bethel Ave on the North. My family moved there in 1959 and bought a house from Mr. & Mrs. Ernie Pifer, located on Bethel Ave between New York and Virginia Avenues. Mr. Pifer was the General Manager of Indiana & Michigan Electric Company in Muncie. I didn’t know it then but I was to be in one of the most fortunate set of circumstances of my life. My education was to be continued at Emerson Elementary School and James Zedekar was the School Principal. Our next door Neighbors were Clarence and Nancy Chalfant who had three boys, just like our family. Clarence was employed as a salesman for Champlin Dodge. Their next door neighbors were the Lanks. Skip was their son and a couple of years older than I and his dad Doyle Lank Sr was a Officer at Marsh Supermarkets. On the same side of the street, the south side, across Virginia Avenue lived Judge Mario Peroni who was blind. His family had a home with a white picket fence. Directly across the street from us lived The Collins Family. Dad, Henry was the Delaware County Accessor and they had three girls in residence all with beautiful red hair. Their older brother Mike was away at college and Susan was exactly my age and just about the cutest girl I had ever seen. I didn’t get around to telling her that until a few years later. To their east lived the Marion “Gibby” Gibson family. Gibby was a Muncie policeman who became the City Police Chief while we lived there. Mom Gibson, was Evelyn and they had three boys the oldest being Johnny who became one of my best buds. Right next door to them lived Mr. & Mrs. Marion Gibson Sr who were Johnny’s grandparents. On the west side of the Collins house lived the Maidlows. Dad, Jim Maidlow was a partner in Lehman’s Heating and Air Conditioning and Mom Evelyn was the Organist at our Church, Riverside Evangelical United Brethren. Their family consisted of three boys, the oldest being Jimmy who became another best bud. Next door to them lived Paul Able and his wife who owned Paul Able Buick Sales and Service on East Jackson Street.

So here I was, living within spitting distance of 15 kids whose parents were all intricate members of the Muncie Community. Of course when you are eleven years old, the most important need, was the availability of enough guys to get up a baseball game, and that we had. A few years later, I realized that having three beautiful red heads living across the street was not so bad either.

Like most families, we had one car. So on the mornings that my mom needed to use it, my Dad would get a ride with George Windmiller, who lived down the street. They both worked at Ball Brothers in the Engineering department. Now I’m not saying my Mom was a bad driver, but it suffices to say that my brother and I would just as soon walk to school. After we took off down the alley on our shortcut in the morning, Mom would install my littlest brother in the back seat and lurch down the hill and on to the street. She had not yet mastered the three speed on the column but she didn’t let that stop her. Occasionally she would pass us and wave while shifting from first to third gear while bypassing second altogether. She often complained that it’s location was in a stupid place, too close to reverse. As she bumped by, my little brother’s head would often disappear from view depending on the gear of her choice. It didn’t seem to bother him. He would just climb back up on the rear seat and wait for the next round of excitement. Back then seat belts were not an option.

After school on Wednesday’s we were required by our parents to attend activities offered by our Church. We would walk there after classes and head for home around five o’clock. We called the last meal of the day Supper at our house. It was served promptly at 5:30 and every one was required to attend. no exceptions and no exemptions. My Dad was usually home by 5:15. His daily routine was to shower and change clothes upon returning home. He was not a smoker but most of his co-workers were, so this necessitated him to “clean up” before supper, as he called it. One was never sure how many folks would be at our supper table based on my mother’s never ending invitation to anyone who looked like they needed a good meal in her estimation. It never seemed to bother my Dad, that we were having a perfect stranger over for fried chicken. In later years my brother and I would show up with a couple of the guys from the team and stretch the mashed potato servings a little. So a rule was implemented, if you are bringing more than one person with you, notification was necessary.

Neely Addition was an amazing place to spend summer vacation when school was out. Murphy’s Supermarket was on Wheeling just south of Bethel Avenue. It’s back door trash pile offered an endless supply of material for fort building or kite flying. Our parents had grown up during the Depression and Word War II and making something out of discarded material is the way we were taught to amuse ourselves. If we wanted to build a go cart, we were off to Jack Brammer’s Texaco Station to check out his trash pile. If we had a problem with our bicycles, we would end up at Becky Beckman’s Pure Oil Station at Rex Street and Wheeling, where he would help us with a patch and some free air to get us on our way. If we wanted to build a raft and put it on a pond, off we went to Shick’s Wood’s at the corner of New York and Neely Avenues. We wandered the neighborhood’s alley’s looking for treasures discarded in the burn piles and trash cans that were the ever present evidence of growing families.

With the advent of my parents expecting my little sister in 1963, they decided to build a house in Yorktown School district. So the transition from my Cocoon of Neely Addition, began. I began school year number nine and my sixth school enrollment in the fall of that year. I was not aware until many years later as to how lucky I had been to have landed in Neely addition in 1959. It’s security and safety and acceptance was instrumental in the foundation of my teen age years. Every once in a while when I am back in town , I turn left on to Linden Avenue and cruise through memory lane. If I am feeling adventurous, I drive down an alley or two looking for lost treasures.