What is now the Broad Ripple neighborhood of Indianapolis started as two rival towns far north of the city limits and along the White River. It was 1836 and construction of the Indiana Central Canal had been approved. The two towns were platted that year to bracket it, Broad Ripple to the north and Wellington to the south.
The Mammoth Internal Improvement Act that funded the Canal and other infrastructure improvements would quickly cause a financial panic that brought Indiana to the brink of bankruptcy. Many of the Act’s improvements were aborted, including the Canal. Of the hundreds of miles the Canal was intended to span, just eight miles were completed, all within Indianapolis.
But the Canal’s construction brought people to the area, and the two towns grew. But by the 1880s Wellington had become a thriving community while Broad Ripple foundered, dwindling to about 35 residents. Yet when a new post office was located in Wellington but given the name Broad Ripple, the less-prosperous town won out and the entire area soon had the name all of Indianapolis knows today.
At first, just the canal and a single dirt road (now Westfield Boulevard) connected Broad Ripple to Indianapolis. In 1883, a railway came to Broad Ripple that connected to Chicago; it would later become the Monon Railroad. In 1894, electric street cars were extended into Broad Ripple; in 1904, the same tracks were used to carry interurban trains. The advent of the automobile led Indiana to form its first highway system in 1917; Westfield Boulevard became part of State Road 1 and, later, the first alignment of US 31. Broad Ripple had become very well connected.
With so many ways to reach Broad Ripple from all over, the town increasingly became a place to go for fun. The well-to-do built cottages along the river; an amusement park went up on the eastern outskirts of town. Businesses filled the town’s main street.
And then in 1924 Broad Ripple was annexed into Indianapolis, and more and more houses were built in the area. It started to become a neighborhood, and the former town’s identity as an amusement destination began to wane. The amusement park was transformed into a city park. The village started to become a commercial center for residents.
In time, buses replaced the streetcars and interurban and the tracks were paved over. US 31 was routed several block west onto Meridian Street, newly built north of the canal. Even the fabled Monon Railroad went defunct. And as happened in every American city, the suburbs kept pushing farther and farther away from the city center. By the 1960s, Broad Ripple was in decline. Residents were leaving and businesses were failing. But the falling rents created opportunity. Quirky shops went into the storefronts and even into some of the homes. A vibrant night life formed, with bars opening along the main street and the former movie theater, the Vogue, becoming a concert venue. Broad Ripple was, once again, a destination for fun.
My first visit to Broad Ripple was in this era. It was about 1992, and the Terre Haute radio station where I worked gave me tickets to see a concert at the Vogue. And then when I moved to Indianapolis a couple years later I ended up in a neighborhood that’s a quick drive from Broad Ripple. I’ve been there most of the last 23 years. Broad Ripple remains a common destination for me.
Broad Ripple’s main street, today called Broad Ripple Avenue and known as “the strip,” was a fun mix when I moved here: by day, popular shops and art galleries; by night, bars and late-night food joints for a younger crowd. I found the night life to be great fun then.
Now that I’m pushing 50, that kind of nightlife isn’t fun for me anymore. But I still enjoy Broad Ripple’s offbeat shops. My favorite coffee shop in town is there; I’ve written a few blog posts at one of its tables. And the Village remains a great place to go for some photography. I’ve visited it dozens of times for just that purpose.
Some things haven’t changed over these years. The strip remains lively and young; the streets just off the strip appeal more to those who’ve graduated from their 20s. The tiny Broad Ripple Kroger remains open somehow. Many of the former residences off the main business district still contain small businesses and restaurants. And when you drive through you can still imagine a time when Broad Ripple was a small town.
But much has changed in Broad Ripple. Businesses have come and gone, of course. Art galleries that used to dot the strip have mostly closed, replaced by more bars and late-night food joints. The Monon rail bed has become a very popular running and biking trail. Bazbeaux Pizza, which started in a garage, moved into a very nice facility down the street. And a giant polka-dotted chair was painted onto the side of a building.
For more than 40 years, Broad Ripple has had a quirky, offbeat, hippie vibe. But that is beginning to change as yet another major transition comes to the area: urban densification. The neighborhoods around Broad Ripple have been very popular over the last quarter century or so, which has driven home prices and rents up. Developers have taken notice. They’ve sought and won zoning changes and are building multi-story apartments and parking garages with first-story retail. The buildings crowd the street. Broad Ripple had formerly felt open and airy, but it increasingly feels closed-in and tight.
I love old bridges and I have a preservationist’s heart. So I was sad to see that the railing on the 1906 bridge over the Canal was altered, I’m sure to make it safer. The railing was about knee height before, making it easy to fall off.
Taking the long view, change has been constant in Broad Ripple. But many places of quirky charm from Broad Ripple’s most recent era remain. I never lack for photographic subjects there. I can always photograph the Monon bridge or the polka-dotted chair one more time. Or I can walk down a side street I haven’t visited in a while and see what’s new.
Broad Ripple has survived many transitions before and forged a new identity. I expect it will survive this one just the same.
To get Down the Road in your inbox or reader, click here to subscribe!
It’s funny, I lived nearby (61st & Indianola) for 5 years in the late 80s-early 90s and never really went exploring in the Village itself. I patronized businesses there when I wanted to buy something, but never just wandered.
At the time I was stuck on how it was losing its flavor as a small town within a city and becoming just a collection of restaurants and bars. I should have been more open to what was to be found there instead of lamenting what wasn’t.
It’s tough to lament something’s passing and welcome its future at the same time. Very tough.
Is this a German license plate on the Karmann Ghia?
GAP stands for Garmisch-Partenkirchen in Bavaria :)
Stimmt! I wrote more about this car for another site to which I contribute: http://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/cc-capsule-1962-volkswagen-karmann-ghia-the-perfect-curbside-classic-for-the-crunchy-granola-set/
Enjoyed
Thanks!
Wonderful, just wonderful.
Thanks!
Karmann-Ghia looks like my first car, a ’66 1300. I’m really impressed with the Starmatic’s results! I have one with a working meter, haven’t gone to the trouble of adapting film for it yet. Fun post!
The Starmatic is fun to shoot. I’ve shot it a few times and so far got the best results with that color film, which was Portra 160. My source for that doesn’t stock it anymore and so I switched to Efke b/w, which has since gone out of production. No loss to me, I didn’t like the stuff much. I should try the Rera Pan that is available now in 127.
Great post Jim, the results from the little Kodak VR35 K40 are really good.
It is a surprisingly decent p&s! I still have it. I should shoot it again.
Thanks for the history and update on Broad Ripple. My wife and I lived in rural Indiana for years and Broad Ripple was where we escaped to for our urban fix. It was the closest thing to a Pacific NW vibe we could find. India Garden is still our benchmark for great Indian food. Loved the photos too. Brick
Oh cool, you know the place! It’s been great to live a short drive away.
That looks like an interesting town and if I am ever over there I will try to visit. Great set of shots Jim and a very good history to go with them.
If you come, I’ll buy you a pint!
And I will gladly accept and probably reciprocate as one pint is never enough! :)
Great post. We see the same kind of thing happening here in Austin, the cool, hip, funky parts of town are being invaded by these large buildings full of hipster condos, running out the cool, hip, funky shops and restaurants that attracted people in the first place. If I wanted to live in New York or San Francisco I would move there, instead it feels like they are moving here and then recreating that environment.
That’s the problem with living in the same place for almost 50 years. Most people I work with have no idea how different things used to be.
Things do change. They just do. Broad Ripple is a perfect example.
One challenge with the hipster condos is that the developers can only sell to the well heeled and rent first-floor retail to the well heeled to make their profit margin. That elevates rents everywhere and soon everything is well heeled.
But the cool, hip, funky people just move on to some other depressed neighborhood and the cycle begins anew.
Nice history lesson with good images. Documenting the changing landscape of cities and towns and remembering their histories is important. Keep up the good work!
Thanks! More “Favorite Subjects” posts to come.
Very Nice Post and Pictures. Good Job.
Thank you!
You’re Welcome
I have a soft spot for Broad Ripple. I lived there in 2008 with my two best friends. I’m glad Fishers is a short drive. Brewpub, Sangrita Saloon, La Piedad and the Deli are some of my favorites.
I commute from Fishers via Broad Ripple to my Northwestside home every day (or will through late Sept, when I move to Zionsville) — and at rush hour, Broad Ripple is not a short drive!! But otherwise it is.
You know what I miss in BR? Mezzaluna. It was where Noodles & Co is now. I loved that restaurant.
BR needs a bar with a good whiskey selection.
Wasn’t Mezzaluna an Italian place? i vaguely remember it, but that noodles & co. was there when i lived down there.
I try to avoid 69/Binford at all costs during rush hour, thankfully i work in westfield where i can avoid the interstate just to get caught in construction.
There used to be a small pub next to Bleecker Street (Is that even still there?) I remember you had to go downstairs to get into it. It had rows of bourbon and scotch above the bar and a nice selection of beer on tap.
Yeah, Italian. So good.
I remember that pub. I was in there once maybe a decade ago. I should try to find it again.
I moved north, away from Indy, a few years ago. I get homesick for certain places, and Broad Ripple is one of them. Thank you for this; I’ve enjoyed it very much!
Happy to be of service!
Wonder if you know that many – or maybe just “quite a few” – of those cool, pleasant, front-porched bungalows that help make BR the cool, pleasant place it used to be, have been authoritatively identified as Sears (and other companies, too) mail order kit homes? Sears is always the one that everyone seems to resort to when naming their sources, but there were several others, some larger and longer lasting, such as Aladdin, of Bay City Michigan. There was also Wardway (Montgomery Ward), of Chicago, Illinois, Gordon van Tine, of Davenport, Iowa, who actually produced all the Wardway homes for M.W., as M.W. wanted in on that market share to compete directly with Sears of course, but didn’t have the first lumber mill or production/distribution facility of their own, so they contracted with G.V.T. to do all that for them. The G.V.T/M.W. designs were identical, but named by and sold under the M.W. name out of their own specialty catalogs, in competition with Sears, their biggest (EVERYBODY’S biggest) mail order competitor. Sears did better in the marketplace, about equal to their regular mail order business level, but Wards gave them a run for their money, and kept them on their toes! Orders were sent to Wards through their own catalog, but we’re forwarded to the G.V.T. Mills for fulfilment. Every one was labeled with the Wardway name and logo, but came straight out of G.V.T. facilities.
There were several others, such as the aforementioned Aladdin Homes of Bay City, Michigan; Bennett Homes, North Tonawanda, New York;
Lewis Liberty Kit Homes, of Bay City, Michigan; Sterling Kit Homes Bay City, Michigan;
Pacific Ready Cut Homes, Los Angeles, California; Harris Brothers, Chicago, Illinois; and
Ready Built House Co., Portland, Oregon. The West Coast companies stayed fairly local, since Rail shipping too far east was not economical with so many other companies located in the Midwest, such as Bay City, Michigan, and a few were local to the East Coast, including Aladdin, which established distribution Mills in the south and southeast in addition to their location in Bay City, and Bennett in upper New York State.
Sorry for rambling, but these homes have generated lots of attention lately, and several full time researchers, some who do it as full time contractors, and others who devote every waking moment outside of their jobs, and a few who are retired. The identification process can be laborious and time consuming, but it’s done out of what you yourself have called, “a preservationists heart.” The bungalows in BR were researched and identified by one of those full time researchers, who did it at the behest of probably a local Historical Society. She also covered Irvington, another neighborhood who came along at just the right time, and Garfield Park. The “new” streetcar suburbs of many cities became home to the biggest portion of all that were built, because the land was cheap, the explosion of the “new middle class” at that time, and they and the average working man could actually afford these. Before the Depression of 1929 a few of the bigger companies offered credit, on a “buy like rent” scheme, making it even easier for many to afford them. But the Crash of 1929 found many of them going into bankruptcy and foreclosure if they had been purchased that way and weren’t completely paid for yet.
Location near railroad tracks was very important, as everything for almost all but the tiniest, and the very largest (7-9 room small mansions!) were sent in around 30,000 pieces or more, depending on house size, inside a sealed boxcar! The biggest took up two, and the smallest wouldn’t fill up the car, but we’re packed carefully, as all were, to avoid any damage during shipment. The car would be set aside at the delivery station, and usually five days were allowed for unloading and inspection for any damage or shortages, which there practically never were any of either. Then, in the earliest parts of the 20th century, it all had to be packed into a horse drawn wagon in many more smaller loads, and moved to the building site! Moving that much material more than a mile or two away wasn’t practical within that time frame, so building sites were usually within that distance. Trucks had to gain quite a lot in load size and horsepower, but were rarely privately owned, so horse and wagon was the most popular choice.
Ok! That’s more than ample history I’m sure! I do a bit of research in my own time, which I’ve had ample amounts of over the last several years, as I have been totally disabled at home. Lots of time for reading and research!
So, maybe the next time you go poking around Broad Ripple, take a look in those Bungalow laden side streets, and see if you can imagine some of them being built pre-cut piece by pre-cut piece by the man, or even the family who would first live in them!
What a great history lesson! I was aware of the Sears houses, and had heard that M-W was in the game too, but did not realize how prevalent they could be in the “streetcar suburbs.” Makes sense, really.
Have you come upon any of Indianapolis’s Lustron houses? They were also prefab houses, delivered by truck — but the exteriors and interiors are porcelained steel. There’s one on Kessler and one on Broad Ripple Ave., both between College and Keystone.