The Window
By
R. T. Hamilton Brown
© 2014 by R. T. Hamilton Brown
By
R. T. Hamilton Brown
© 2014 by R. T. Hamilton Brown
I married THE WINDOW 55 years ago, June 13, 1964 to be exact. Well…..I guess I should say that I married the woman who owns THE WINDOW. But, when you get right down to it, I did marry THE WINDOW too.
When I proposed to Nan Lou (my wife, and window owner) back in 1963, she said that she would marry me as long as I married THE WINDOW too.
Why not, thought I, I’d heard of stranger things, can’t remember what they were back then, but there must have been something. I did ask for a bit of an explanation though, being a sort-of-conservative type back then. She turned down the lights, put on some soft music, fixed me a double martini (they were just gin, vermouth, and an olive or two back then) and started the story of THE WINDOW.
Having lived most of her life near downtown Indy, before it was the haven of the rich and famous, and loving the architecture of many of the old buildings, especially the old Marion County Courthouse. She was appalled in 1962 when she found out it was slated for the wrecking ball. She sadly watched it being reduced to rubble a little more every day. Every day she hurt a little more.
When I proposed to Nan Lou (my wife, and window owner) back in 1963, she said that she would marry me as long as I married THE WINDOW too.
Why not, thought I, I’d heard of stranger things, can’t remember what they were back then, but there must have been something. I did ask for a bit of an explanation though, being a sort-of-conservative type back then. She turned down the lights, put on some soft music, fixed me a double martini (they were just gin, vermouth, and an olive or two back then) and started the story of THE WINDOW.
Having lived most of her life near downtown Indy, before it was the haven of the rich and famous, and loving the architecture of many of the old buildings, especially the old Marion County Courthouse. She was appalled in 1962 when she found out it was slated for the wrecking ball. She sadly watched it being reduced to rubble a little more every day. Every day she hurt a little more.
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Finally Nan Lou couldn’t take it any longer and searched out the man in charge of the demolition. Arrow Wrecking was the company yielding the iron wrecking ball with wild abandon and a well-known Demo Man named Ed Zebrowski was the man in charge. The wildly swinging no-conscience-ball was getting closer and closer to a secret that only she seemed to know about. At least she seemed to be the only one to remember the beautiful nine-foot acid-etched glass window that was possibly shipped over from Italy back in the 1870s when the courthouse was built. It was located on the second or third floor near a stairway on the west side of the building facing Delaware Street and had been covered with plywood or some kind of wallboard many years ago to protect it from the graffiti artists of the forties. She had sat in front of it for many hours while still in school practicing her drawing and doing other homework.
She approached Mr. Zebrowski and asked about the window. He didn’t know a thing about it; it was still boarded over. Nan Lou used a little of her powers of feminine persuasion, she had them in spades and still does, and he had his men gently uncover it. A little more charm and THE WINDOW was soon carefully removed, crated for storage, and trucked over to Hogan Transfer & Storage Corporation warehouse a few blocks away. She paid the monthly storage fees religiously hoping that someday she would be able to display THE WINDOW, possibly in her own home. A year or two later I came along. One thing led to another and the three of us were married. Fast forward 22 years, 1986, hard times befell the Brown family and I nagged enough to have the window rescued from Hogan’s warehouse. I felt that I had to see my nine foot etched glass bride. True, there was more to it than that. It was partly an economic move, partly curiosity to see the other woman I had married, partly a move to do something with the window before it ended up getting broken or lost. I even wondered if the good people over at Hogan’s could find it, if indeed there really was a window there. I went on down to Hogan’s on St. Clair Street and inquired about it. I asked, "Do you have it? Followed with, "Could I see it?" "You mean that old courthouse window, sure, just go over to the warehouse there, no problem. It’s one of the things we’ve had in here forever. Sure enough, there it was, neatly crated and tied up against a wall. I could actually see THE WINDOW there in all its glory, or was that years of dust? I had to peer between the slats of the crate. I could reach a couple of fingers between the slats and actually feel the etched design on the heavy glass. The chills ran up and down my spine and I could finally understand why Nan Lou insisted I marry THE WINDOW when we married 22 years ago. That was it, I had to see it before another 22 years passed. It had to come home. I wanted to put it in a wall of our house but couldn’t quite figure out how to get a nine foot high, eight foot wide window in our seven and a half foot house. It was moved to our garage and its fate hung directly in out hands. I uncovered one side so I could finally see the etched designs in the old glass. I was totally surprised to find a lovely lady of classic Grecian design surrounded by the curves and curlicues of old Victorian art. This other woman in my marriage was almost as good looking as the one I had lived with for the last 22 years. I quickly restored the crating after taking a few photos to protect this lady of THE WINDOW and we went on about our day-to-day activities. |
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We had searched the marvelous photo files at Bass Photo looking for pictures of the courthouse showing the window and never could find the right view to see it. Raising our three children took precedent over a more concerted effort to do something with THE WINDOW. As time marched resolutely onward it was pretty much forgotten about. House expansion plans never materialized. The place on a remote barrier island became more remote as real estate prices far out-paced incomes. Life went on. That’s not too bad. Better than the alternative.
Just within the last few years I saw a photo reproduced in the Indianapolis Monthly Magazine belonging to the Indiana Historical Society. You can barely make out the image of the other woman etched onto the glass under the arch on the second or third floor over the entrance on the Ohio Street side of the courthouse.
THE WINDOW is still waiting patiently, for something. It is now over thirty years later; I peek at it every few years and talk a little to the fine lady etched in what is now 150 year old glass. My wife and I are that old, combined age that is, and THE WINDOW still waits. We still wait. Maybe there is still time for the three of us to live happily ever after under the same roof. Why not????
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Just within the last few years I saw a photo reproduced in the Indianapolis Monthly Magazine belonging to the Indiana Historical Society. You can barely make out the image of the other woman etched onto the glass under the arch on the second or third floor over the entrance on the Ohio Street side of the courthouse.
THE WINDOW is still waiting patiently, for something. It is now over thirty years later; I peek at it every few years and talk a little to the fine lady etched in what is now 150 year old glass. My wife and I are that old, combined age that is, and THE WINDOW still waits. We still wait. Maybe there is still time for the three of us to live happily ever after under the same roof. Why not????
[email protected]
November 2014 update.
One cold and windy day we decided to try the local Another Broken Egg restaurant for breakfast. Nan Lou spied a group of old photographs on the far wall and after eating we went over for a closer look. One of the photos had the best shot of the Old courthouse we had ever seen. YOU COULD EVEN SEE THE WINDOW IN IT. Out came the cell phone and I snapped away. It was near closing time and I didn't have to trample anyone's brunch.
One cold and windy day we decided to try the local Another Broken Egg restaurant for breakfast. Nan Lou spied a group of old photographs on the far wall and after eating we went over for a closer look. One of the photos had the best shot of the Old courthouse we had ever seen. YOU COULD EVEN SEE THE WINDOW IN IT. Out came the cell phone and I snapped away. It was near closing time and I didn't have to trample anyone's brunch.
Street View
Closing in
And here She is.
