When the Lebanon bypass was in process in being construction, the state wanted federal money to expand the capacity of the road. The decision made by the state, and the requirements put in place by the federal government, was going to ensure that the route of US 52 between the county seat of Boone County and the state capitol would be in a different location.

I have covered before that the route of Interstate 65 at Lebanon was built before the interstate system was even created. It was originally built as a bypass of Lebanon of US 52. The bypass was under construction in 1955. The federal law creating the interstate system came into being in 1956.

The Indianapolis News of 23 June 1955 had the following headline “New Route for U.S. 52 Forced by Federal Aid.” It was simple…the feds demanded, if Indiana wanted half of the cost paid for by the feds, that there be a 300 foot right of way for the new bypass. Which, according to the News, “would take out houses on both sides if the existing road should be widened.”

At the time of the article, the Lebanon bypass was half completed (two lane traffic). Interchanges were planned at SR 32 and SR 39. Since new highways classified as limited access, 11 businesses around Lebanon would not have access to the new bypass.

At the same time, the following roads were declared limited access: US 31 between Columbus and Indianapolis; US 52 between the Lebanon bypass and Lafayette bypass; US 52 Lebanon bypass; US 52 from Lafayette to Templeton; US 41 at Morocco; US 41 from the Kankakee River to Schnieder; US 31 at Jeffersonville to SR 131; intersection of US 40 and SR 100 on the east side of Marion County; US 27 south of Fort Wayne; US 24 and US 30 east of Fort Wayne; SR 46 at Bloomington (proposed bypass); US 420 (Tri-State Highway) in Lake County; US 31 north of Uniontown; US 31 on Madison from Southern to Delaware, Indianapolis; SR 37 from Keystone to point north of Noblesville (proposed new Indianapolis-Noblesville highway).

When rumbling through transportation history, its hard to miss the elephant in the room that is the railroads versus highways debate. And how that was mostly won by highways. And one would not be blamed for blaming that loss on the coming of the interstate highways. For years, that is what I thought. However, what appears on the surface is not always the right answer.

Since the federal government started pumping money into state highway programs in the mid-1910’s, state and local governments have been trying to find a happy medium between efficiency and the want to have every highway possible. As the call for safer and more capacity highways grew, the governments involved finally realized something that should have been completely obvious from the beginning…the railroads were there first.

And state and local governments had their hands tied. Railroads were privately owned organizations. Most of the time the same governments that wanted them to move or just go away were the ones that gave the land to build there in the first place. Unlike roads, which were getting basically a reboot at the beginning of the twentieth century, railroads were in place. With very few exceptions, they hadn’t changed much, in routing, in the 20th century. There were new lines being recommended, but very few new lines came into being after around 1900.

Then, in July 1947, an Indiana Congressman decided to introduce a bill to the U. S. House of Representatives that would help out the local governments when it came to those pesky railroads. The legislation, introduced by Congressman George Gillie, would give cities the right to require rerouting of railroads when their location was seen as a hazard to the federal highway.

Newspaper reports, especially from the Muncie Star Press of 11 July 1947, roughly detail the plan. It was covered in Muncie since that city, as well as Fort Wayne, would most likely be the beneficiaries of such legislation in Indiana.

“The bill was introduced by Representative Gillie would authorize municipalities to reroute railroads in such a manner as to eliminate a declared hazard provided the municipality first obtained from federal and state authorities a declaration that public safety would be served by railroad relocation.”

Covering the same bill, the Indianapolis Star of 10 July 1947 mentions that “Congressman Gillie’s office said the bill was intended to apply to the present routing of the Nickel Plate Railroad through Fort Wayne, the congressman’s home city.” It went on to mention that “grade crossings on the Nickel Plate’s line now affect main highway traffic through the city of Fort Wayne. A relocation project for the railroad has been in dispute for several years.”

Muncie had the same problem with the same railroad. The location of the Nickel Plate tracks on Madison Street, which had become, or soon would become, the routing of US 35, SR 3 and SR 67 through the city. This stemmed from the fact that the Nickel Plate line north out of Muncie to Fort Wayne ran right down the middle of Madison Street before turning slightly northeast to head out of Delaware County. The giant curve of track south of White River and McCullough Park actually entered a railroad yard on the southside of White River, through which the Chesapeake & Ohio and the Pennsylvania traveled. It would be later reconfigured to carry the Muncie-Fort Wayne mainline off of Madison Street.

The diamond that allows the Nickel Plate to cross the Bee Line, a location I have spent many a day watching trains with my friend, actually allowed the Nickel Plate to continue across its own track (the track running more east and west) and curve its way onto Madison Street. Map evidence shows that the track was gone from Madison Street by 1962.

Whether the legislation got passed or not, it is clear that the railroads were affected directly by plans of the same ilk. Muncie removed its Nickel Plate tracks from the state road. The state later removed the state road from Muncie.

A discussion in a Facebook group the other day got me to thinking about the original mile square that was the town of Indianapolis. Now, this topic may seem to venture a lot closer to history and really far from transportation. And mostly, I would agree with you. But today, this focuses on the “map” that someone found of Indianapolis in 1821…and the streets that actually happened.

It started with the “map” above. Someone had commented about Google Maps not having historic maps, and that they would love to see a map of Indianapolis when it appeared like this. There were many great comments about this…and how great the lay out of the town was. But it bothered me.

A map of Indianapolis never actually looked like this. Ever. The image above shows the original ideas of Alexander Ralston for the town. Also, keep in mind that Mr. Ralston only used one square mile…out of the four he was allowed…because he never thought the town would get any bigger. It was, after all, an swampy outpost in the middle of a forest.

Back to the map, and the comments. Someone had mentioned that Indianapolis is one of the most symmetric cities ever built. I had to disagree with that person on that opinion, given the location of Pogue’s Run.

When the town of Indianapolis was actually built, the streets surrounding Pogues Run were never created. Those streets (North Carolina, South Carolina, and Short) were left off of the map of the town. Instead, as shown in the 1831 map of Indianapolis below, the north-south streets were continued across the creek that would be a pain in the neck for the Hoosier capitol for almost 100 years…until it was buried.

This is just a portion of the map. And even then, I am skeptical. This image has a production date of 1906. But I am more apt to believe this one, because I have actually seen other maps within a decade or two of what date it’s supposed to be. Those maps show the same thing – Pennsylvania, Delaware, Alabama and New Jersey continue across Pogues Run.

Another difference between the 1821 plat and the 1831 map is the names of the streets around the Mile Square. Or, more to the point, the INCLUSION of those streets. On Alexander Ralston’s original plat, the streets of the town just dump into the wilderness. There are no North, South, East and West Streets. They weren’t included.

By 1831, the town had overrun the mile square. And, hence, street names were added to the edge of the original area of the Hoosier capitol.

As an aside, it is possible, using the plat of Indianapolis, to prove that 10 times 10 is 101. Look at the last platted square on both maps.

The supposed symmetry of the town was disrupted by Pogues Run. It actually got closer to symmetrical when the Carolinas and Short Street were left out. But the whole idea of symmetry went straight out the window with the very first addition to the town. And it continued from there.

As the electric traction, or interurban, trains ran across Indiana, they provided a service that many Hoosiers took for granted. The interurban covered much of the state, allowing passengers to get almost anywhere. Some companies grew very large from the consolidation of the interurban cars and the street railways in the cities. Union Traction, the company that provided service from Indianapolis to Fort Wayne, via Fort Harrison, Anderson, Muncie and Marion, actually owned the city street railway in Muncie…among others. The same company that owned a majority of the traction routes out of Indianapolis also owned the city trolley cars lines in both Indianapolis and Terre Haute.

The problem was, the writing was on the wall.

Part of what made the interurbans possible was the fact that the companies made their own electricity…and sold it to people along the line. The company that owned the Greenwood line was called Interstate Public Service. When the Federal Government required the power companies and the traction companies to become separate entities, the barely money making trains became anchors around the necks of the companies left to take care of them. Interstate Public Service changed the name of its power company to Public Service Indiana.

But the transportation service was still vital to the residents of Indiana. Or it least it was through the 1930’s and 1940’s. Something had to be done to make sure that people could get around the state, and through the cities, but still not spend a ton of losing money on the proposition. And soon, the electric traction train cars were replaced with diesel bus service in many places.

Indianapolis was known, at the time, for having the largest Traction Terminal in the world. But by 1926, part of it had already become known at the Traction Terminal Bus Station. Interurban trolley cars and buses were already using the same facility by 1926…half a decade before the train cars started disappearing from the landscape of the Hoosier state.

By that time, most of the interurban companies were already running charter bus services. As the advertisement to the left shows, the Interstate Public Service Company was running chartered bus service. This ad is from the Indianapolis Star of 5 June 1926. One of the Interstate Public Service excursions included bus service to Brown County. The round trip was $3.00. And you could add a chicken dinner in Brown County Park for $1.00.

Union Traction, mentioned above, ran a bus from Indianapolis to Turkey Run every Sunday. It left the Traction Terminal Bus Station at 0700, arriving at the park at 1000. Its return trip was completed at 2200 Sunday night when it arrived back at the Traction Terminal.

In 1932, the Indiana Railroad Company, owner of most of the traction lines radiating out of Indianapolis (they leased the interurban companies…the biggest of which was the Terre Haute, Indianapolis & Eastern, owner of a lot of interurban tracks and city services), decided to call an end to the tracked interurban rail service from Indianapolis to Dunreith. That service supported Greenfield. The government of Greenfield found itself suing the traction company for continuation of service. But there was service. The Indiana Railroad had replaced the traction cars with bus service provided by the Indiana Motor Transit Company. Yes, the Indiana Transit Company was owned by the Indiana Railroad. But that bus company continued service from Indianapolis to Dunreith, where it met the interurban train making the Richmond-New Castle-Indianapolis run. Starting on 6 January 1932, that bus service ran twelve trips, each way, daily. Busses left Indianapolis at 0800, 0915, 1245, 1430, 1600, 1645, 1715, 1740, 1810, 2015 and 2315.

But it still wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns for the transit companies. Even with the use of busses, the companies were still losing tons of money during the 1930’s. The Great Depression raged on throughout the decade…and slight money makers in good times were absolute money losers in bad. And with the exception of rural people trying to get to shopping in the urban area, a lot of the traffic had been curtailed as non-essential.

Busses would completely replace the Indianapolis-Anderson-Muncie-Marion-Fort Wayne line on 18 January 1941. The last of the Indiana Railroad traction cars would run that night, making the final run of the interurban line. The traction cars started running through Muncie in 1900 as the Union Traction Company. In 1930, it became part of the Indiana Railroad.

But busses weren’t the only thing that replaced the traction cars. There was still quite a bit of small freight running along the electric traction lines. This service was replaced with trucks. The bus service along the Union Traction line was maintained for Lawrence, McCordsville, Ingals, Pendleton, Anderson, Muncie, Chesterfield, Daleville, Yorktown, Royerton, Hartford City, Montpelier, Fiat, Nottingham, Petroleum, Reiffsburg, Bluffton, Ossian and Fort Wayne. Service from Muncie to New Castle included Cowan, Oakville, Springport, and Mount Summit. Fort Harrison, Fortville, Shideler and Eaton were also added to the old Union Traction line bus service.

The interurban companies all found their way into providing bus service. And these busses, like the train cars before them, fanned out across the state providing passengers and freight a way to get from point a to point b. But just like the interurbans before them, the busses found themselves on the way out. Reducing ridership suffered by both the interurban bus services and the steam railroads led to an end of the majority of those services. The day of twelve busses a day moving along the National Road between Indianapolis and Richmond would be gone. First, the numbers of bus trips went down daily. Then it became a weekly trip. Then the bus company just gave up and ended the trips all together. Hoosiers were using far more cars than ever, making busses unprofitable or even impossible to run.

Today’s Indiana Transportation History blog will be a short one. And not much information. But there is a method to my madness.

I have, sometimes, hundreds of readers. And you all have come to ITH for one reason or another. Most are interested in history. Some are road geeks. Some are railfans. I happen to be all of the above.

What I want to know is this…what is something in your area that you find intriguing, puzzling, interesting, etc., about Indiana Transportation History? What would you like to share with the ITH community about your neck of the woods. And even if it isn’t about Indiana, there has to be a reason you are interested in this subject that is specifically Indiana.

Other than the topics that I have covered over the past 18 months, two that hit home for me lately are the sheer emptiness of the Hoosier landscape and the concept of a shunpike.

The City of Indianapolis has been doing construction on German Church Road. For the first two weeks, we were unable to use the road southbound. This made for an interesting detour either down Mitthoeffer Road or Muessing Road to Prospect Street, then back up German Church to my subdivision which is 3/10 of a mile south of Washington Street…aka where German Church was closed.

For the next four weeks, German Church was closed northbound, which meant getting to shopping…aka Walmart or Meijer…took as long to drive to as it does for me to walk there. Literally.

I realize that there were nothing but farms out here…thus creating a detour of over four miles to get to a point that is 1.5 miles away. I joked with some friends on YouTube that I wanted a roast beef sandwich, but wasn’t driving five miles to get one when I can walk 1/2 a mile to the same Arby’s restaurant.

The other idea that I may someday figure out how to flesh out to a full entry is the concept of the Shunpike. For those that are not familiar with the term, back in the 1840’s through 1890’s, most major roads in Indiana were owned by toll road companies. Along the way, locals built roads that roughly paralleled the toll roads, if they could, to avoid paying the toll.

That brings me back to Prospect Street and my four mile detour. Most people don’t know this, but it is possible to get from Irvington to Greenfield using two old paths. The most direct (duh) way was the National Road. It still is. However, if you wanted to avoid the tolls, starting at what is now Arlington Avenue, you can travel east on what is now English Avenue/Rawles Avenue to either Post or Mitthoeffer Roads, turn south, and take Prospect Street all the way to SR 9 south of Greenfield. (Although my bet is that the road into Greenfield itself involved what is now Franklin Street.)

Using this circuitous route, travelers could get from Irvington to Greenfield without paying a toll. Turning left on Franklin Street, and traveling one mile north, then turning right, it was possible to get as far as Knightstown without paying a toll.

There are many such roads all over the state. I chose that one because, well, it is at the end of the block from me…if you took out all the streets added by the subdivisions built over the last 30 years. My back fence is on the survey line that is halfway between the correction line at what is now 10th Street and the survey line that makes the center of Prospect Street.

So….what I am asking from you is to share what you find interesting in your area. Maybe there is someone in your area that has the same interests or questions? Who knows, maybe we can come up with a subject for a new blog entry?

And I am always a fan of audience interaction. I now run a YouTube channel…and the first rule that I have always lived by is “know the audience.” I would like to know a little more about you folks that make this a labor of love for me…and have since February 2019. Almost 500 entries ago.

When the planning for Interstate 465 was underway, to say that it was a bit contentious can be, at times, an understatement. This was especially true on the east and north sides of the loop. Most arguments made against the plan of the interstate were legal in nature. One actually turned violent.

The first discussion that I found involved arguments of the legal kind involving the northern leg of 465. An injunction was sought to stop further public discussions concerning the building of the road. The court proceedings were in May 1961. Arthur H. Gemmer, attorney, represented some 40 people against the interstate, and its construction near 96th Street. The argument was that the State Highway Commission broke a 1945 state statute by not consulting county and city officials as to the location of the road.

The remonstrators wanted to halt hearings on the proposed route until the Bureau of Public Roads could rule on the appeal they filed about the location. The court hearing was simply for an injunction to stop the hearings, because the court in question did not have jurisdiction over the road proposals. The remonstrators hoped, in the end, that the interstate would be pushed further north into Hamilton County, as opposed to the 96th Street corridor as originally designed (and later built).

Two months later, on 13 July 1961, the same remonstrators were involved in an actual violent argument at North Central High School at an I-465 planning meeting. The meeting was already advertised as not going to be turned into a legal battleground. That didn’t stop an attorney to attempt introducing legal briefs into the meeting.

The leader of the meeting, Oral S. Craig of the State Highway Department, told the attorney to be seated, and a number of the 400 people at the meeting started shouting angrily.

Especially contentious was the area around Spring Mill Road and the proposed highway. One man, a Stanley Valinet, contended that plans for a $2.5 million shopping center at the corner of Spring Mill Road and 96th Street had been approved two years prior. Part of that land would be part of the plan for a cloverleaf interchange at US 31 and I-465. The state argued that the “construction” of the shopping center only started after publication of the proposed routes, and that the entire construction to that point involved several sections of concrete block foundation.

At that meeting, it was pointed out that “Line E,” or the proposed preferred alternative, involved removing 66 homes from Shadeland Avenue to Boone County. The “Line D” proposal would have taken out 83 homes in the same distance.

The last discussion about the proposed I-465 involved the east side location of the road. The Warren Civic Association made an appointment to meet with state highway officials on 13 September 1961. The meeting was to try to convince those officials to move the proposed route of I-465 three miles to the east. State and Federal officials had already approved the location of the road, but construction would be in a holding pattern until the location of the northern leg of the highway was settled.

Part of the issue were 14 homes that were built in the proposed path of the interstate…after the plans for the route were announced. Each of those homes cost approximately $30,000. “The state of Indiana is going to pay through the nose,” stated Lloyd C. Fleetwood, Warren Civic Association Vice President.

Moving the route three miles to the east would eliminate the need to tear down a residential area, as there was no such thing further east. Such a location would have put the interstate at or near Cumberland. But officials at both the state and federal levels had already, repeatedly, ruled against the proposal. It didn’t stop them from trying, however.

There were more “discussions” concerning the locations and designs of I-465. Especially contentious was the 21st Street grade crossing on the west side of Marion County. The north leg would be the hardest part to get built, as from proposal decision to completion took almost a decade.

An oft-heard claim when I am out an about is that the Michigan Road was Indiana’s first state road. While I will never deny the importance of that road (heck, my job is on the Michigan Road in Hamilton County, and I use the section in Shelby County quite a bit to visit the in-laws), it is not, by far, the first. It was the first to connect the state from north to south, but not the first in general.

The National Road, in its importance as well, was finished before the Michigan Road. And even then, the National Road was preceded by a less known road called the Centerville State Road. When the National Road came into being, any reference to the older state road became lost to history. I covered that road here: The Tail of Two Roads: National Road and Centerville State Road.

But the idea of state roads in early Indiana was completely different that it is today. Any look at newspapers of the late 1820’s through the late 1830’s would show a long list of state roads spanning the state in all kinds of directions for all kinds of purposes. A common criticism of the state road “program,” such as it was, in the early days is that the state would build a road to a specific person’s land, or ferry, or whatever. If it was politically expedient to build to Miller’s Ferry over the Smallerthana River, such a road was built. Or, more to the point, financed to be built.

There was no central authority when it came to state roads in that era. As a matter of fact, those early roads financed by the state were actually passed into law by the General Assembly. So the vast system of roads that were financed by state money, the very definition of a state road in the early days, had to have majority approval to be constructed. So the very notion of political favors became very important if Mr. Miller wanted to get some state money to connect his ferry over the Smallerthana to the towns of Widespot and Tensalloons on either side.

A lot of the early state roads, however, did serve the governments of the state and counties. Many roads were financed that would connect county seats to one another, or to Indianapolis (technically a county seat, as well). The above mentioned Centerville Road was built from Indianapolis to the then county seat of Wayne County…Centerville (or, as it was originally, Centreville). Richmond, at that time, was a just a town close to the Ohio State line on the Whitewater River.

As the state grew, the state roads that had originally been built to service the county seats no longer did so in some cases. In the article The National Road, and County Seats, I mentioned that when the National Road was surveyed, it connected three county seats of the eight counties it traversed: Wayne County (Centerville); Marion County (Indianapolis); and Vigo County (Terre Haute). Two would be added later. First would be Greenfield (Hancock County), platted specifically on the National Road. Next would be Brazil (Clay County), which would become the county seat after having been moved from Bowling Green.

As the state capital, Indianapolis had more than its share of state roads emanating from it. In a circle starting at the north, Indianapolis had the Westfield State Road, Fort Wayne State Road (Allisonville Road), Pendleton State Road, National Road (Washington Street), Brookville State Road, Michigan Road (Southeastern Avenue), Shelbyville State Road, Madison State Road, Leavenworth State Road (Meridian Street), Paoli State Road (Bluff Road), Mooresville State Road, National Road (again), Rockville State Road, Danville State Road (10th Street), Crawfordsville State Road, and the Lafayette State Road. That doesn’t include several that cross through Marion County without actually going to Indianapolis. The one that comes to mind is the Noblesville-Franklin State Road (Franklin Road), which would connect the two title towns via Fenton, Lanesville, Lawrence and Fisher’s Station.

And here the other major difference in early state roads and the modern variety comes screaming into the spotlight. When the state General Assembly approved a road, the financing was done by the state. The road wouldn’t belong to the state. As soon as construction was complete, the state would turn the road over to the county. If it was to be maintained, the county was responsible for it, not the state. The major reason that turnpikes and toll roads came into being at all was due to the fact that the counties had “state roads” going every which direction, sometimes for no appreciable reason, that the County Commissioners were responsible for keeping passable. Honestly, most counties failed in this. Hence, sell the road, let someone else take care of it, and the county gets an influx of cash they don’t have to spend on roads.

One last point. The words “state road construction” gives the impression that there were actually roads built. This was mostly not true. The state would spend the money to improve the road, not (usually) build a new facility. A quick glance at any map of Indiana, even todays, show a bunch of roads that start, run for a while, turn for no apparent reason, run some more, and just appear to end in the middle of nowhere. Two examples that come to mind from the Indianapolis area are the Shelbyville Road and the Mooresville Road.

The latter would become the route for SR 22 in 1917, and SR 67 in 1926. A look at the twists and turns in that road would give anyone a good idea why there has been a LOT of moving around of SR 67 over the past 100 years. The former leaves Marion County as Shelbyville Road, then just ends in eastern Johnson County. Or, at least as it is marked. I have been trying to trace the old state road from Indianapolis to Shelbyville. In Indianapolis, it starts as Shelby Street. In Shelbyville, it starts as Boggsville Road. In between, it gets really kind of fun.

But this was due to the fact that Indiana really only built, from scratch, one state road. Most were improvements county roads that were already in place. That one state road that Indiana had built brings us back to the start of this article: The Michigan Road. The state did build that one from scratch. In that case, I guess that DOES make the Michigan Road the first state road in Indiana. It all comes down to semantics. It doesn’t really matter in the end. With the creation of the Indiana State Highway Commission in 1917, the concept of the state road would change. And most of the Michigan Road would ultimately, once again, become a state road.

Looking back through the history of Indiana, and Indianapolis in particular, it is hard to have an opinion other than one simple premise: the railroad built the Hoosier State and its capital. Now hear me out. There were people coming into the state by the roads and rivers. I can’t deny that. But the numbers of people that were coming increased drastically when the railroads began their journeys across the state. Think about it, in the year 1847, when the first railroad entered Indianapolis, the state capital had officially become big enough to legally change from a town to a city.

But what comes around, goes around. Fast forward to 1 May 1971. The new government railroad company, Amtrak, started operations as the major passenger train company. Not all railroads gave up their passenger operations to Amtrak in the beginning. Some railroads wanted to give it a go, continuing their passenger service. That, however, did not last long.

The passenger service in the United States continued to stumble along as Amtrak tried to find its footing. Eight years later, the company decided to shed some of its dead weight.

Indianapolis, a city that at one point had 200+ trains daily stopping at Union Station, by 1971, had dropped to two: the James Whitcomb Riley and the National Limited. The National Limited, as it was called then, was actually the continuation of the Pennsylvania Railroad’s Spirit of St. Louis, connecting New York to Kansas City. The original National Limited was actually a Baltimore & Ohio train connecting Washington, DC, to St. Louis. That train ceased operations on 30 April 1971, the day before the Amtrak takeover.

Another train that rumbled through the Hoosier landscape was the Floridian, carrying passengers from Chicago to Miami. It had two regular stops in Indiana during the 1970’s: Lafayette and Bloomington. Hence, Lafayette had the service of two regular trains through the 1970’s: James Whitcomb Riley and Floridian.

As I mentioned yesterday, the James Whitcomb Riley had its route changed due to track issues between Chicago and Louisville along the Penn Central. By 1974, the number of passenger trains serving Indianapolis had dropped to one: National Limited. And even that was questionable just a year prior.

A plan by the National Railroad Passenger Corporation (the official name of Amtrak) was to eliminate their trains numbered 30, 31, 52 and 53 on 2 August 1973. In Amtrak parlance, trains 30 and 31 were the National Limited. Trains 52 and 53 were the Floridian. Opposition to this plan was found in the government officials all along the two rail routes. Mayor Richard Lugar of Indianapolis issued a statement on 12 July 1973 stating just that. The expectation was that Indiana Governor Otis Bowen would issue a statement along the same lines within days.

Protests to the pending removal of these railroad lines was due to be in Washington, DC, by 18 July 1973. Other protests came from the United Transportation Union, the union that represented Amtrak employees.

The railroad routes were saved. For the time being. 1974 saw, as mentioned above, the necessary, and supposedly temporary, rerouting of the James Whitcomb Riley. Richmond would be the benefactor in this arrangement, as now that city had more passenger service than did Indianapolis. (And, yes, I do not the irony in that passenger service to Richmond was provided by the same trains that had provided Indianapolis with it.) Now, instead of Indianapolis, the James Whitcomb Riley and the National Limited had stops in Richmond.

Fast forward to the summer of 1979. Amtrak is planning cuts again to both the National Limited and the Floridian. And, again, the protests started. It even led to a Court of Appeals in Washington, DC, to issue a temporary restraining order directing Amtrak to maintain the National Limited past the proposed 30 September 1979 end date to at least 12 October. That was shot down when Amtrak appealed to the United States Supreme Court. The Supreme Court would snuff out the restraining order, allowing the National Limited to leave Penn Station in New York at 1555, 30 September 1979.

When it stopped at Indianapolis, it would be the last train to use the grand old Union Station after 90 years of service to the city. The last train to serve the station would be the eastbound run of the National Limited, which, ironically, would be running late.

The Floridian last a bit longer. A judge in Wichita, Kansas, ordered Amtrak to keep three of its lines operating. These included the Lone Star, the North Coast Hiawatha, and the Floridian. All three of these trains served Chicago. The Lone Star went to Houston. North Coast Hiawatha served cities and towns between Chicago and Seattle. As mentioned above, the Floridian rumbled its way through Lafayette and Bloomington on its way to places warm and sunny.

The reprieve would not last long. The Floridian had been operating on a day-to-day basis since the original 30 September 1979 end date. That extension would last about two weeks.

There was talk, especially in Richmond, of restoring the National Limited. Talks of Penn Central/Conrail abandoning the old Panhandle main line connecting Richmond and Terre Haute via Indianapolis did not quell the talk. The National Limited could simply be rerouted toward the Bee Line out of Richmond, and still connect Indianapolis and Terre Haute on its way west. The Panhandle was abandoned in 1982 and 1984. And the National Limited never saw its revival.

And Indianapolis Union Station would be just short of its 100th anniversary (keeping in mind that before 1888, and the current station was built, it was known as Indianapolis Union Depot) before it would see another passenger locomotive grace its portals. And that was the return of the train that had been the James Whitcomb Riley.

28 April 1941. The New York Central inaugurates a new passenger train to connect Chicago, Lafayette, Indianapolis and Cincinnati. That train was given the name “James Whitcomb Riley.” The equipment used on the new train had recently been completed at Beech Grove, the shop facilities of the New York Central. The railroad decided that the Hoosier poet was an appropriate name for a route that would use the latest in streamlined equipment.

The “press run” of the Riley was made on 23 April 1941. Leaving Chicago mid-morning, it arrived in Indianapolis at 1130. With the exception of slowing down at Shelbyville, Greensburg, and Batesville, the train didn’t stop between Indianapolis and Cincinnati. The return to Indianapolis was provided by the “Sycamore,” another modern Big Four route without the streamlining of the Riley. The Riley would start service five days later, leaving Cincinnati in the morning, and returning that evening.

Fast forward to 1974. The owner of the James Whitcomb Riley has transferred from the New York Central to the Penn Central, the merger of the two rival northeastern railroads, the Pennsylvania and the New York Central. The Penn Central had fallen on the hard times such a mammoth merger was supposed to prevent. Created in 1968, the Penn Central fell into bankruptcy in 1971. And it was still suffering from that status is 1974. So much so that the James Whitcomb Riley passenger service, which had fallen into the hands of the government owned Amtrak, had to be rerouted, removing Lafayette from its list of stops.

25 September 1974, and the James Whitcomb Riley, long a staple on Penn Central tracks, had been moved to use Chesapeake & Ohio tracks via Richmond, Muncie, Marion and Peru. This was due to the tracks of the Penn Central being declared unsafe (see “1974: Penn Central Emergency Repairs Close Major RR Link“) This new routing took the train out of Indianapolis, which had been a major stop since it was created.

The “temporary” reroute of the train that carried passengers from Chicago to Washington, DC, was supposed to have existed for 12 days. That was announced on 4 August 1974. Even then, the service was to just travel through the cities along the C&O tracks, not stop. That would change six weeks later when stops along the “temporary” route would commence at Richmond, Muncie, Marion and Peru. During the shutdown of the Penn Central tracks, Amtrak took its passengers by bus to Cincinnati for those going eastbound. Westbound passengers, heading to Chicago, would take the bus the entire way.

28 August 1977. The announcement was made by Amtrak that the James Whitcomb Riley, by then a staple of the C&O tracks through Indiana, would lose its name on 30 October of the same year. At one point, after the takeover of passenger service by Amtrak, the train actually had two names – Riley and George Washington. The Washington name confused passengers, so the Riley name was restored to both trains. The train’s new name would be “Cardinal.”

Amtrak stated several reasons for the name change. First, the fact that outside Indiana, people weren’t as familiar with the poet, hence James Whitcomb Riley had very little meaning outside of the Hoosier state.

Second, Amtrak felt that the name was too long and hard to remember. And third, improvements in the schedule and equipment gave Amtrak officials the feeling a new name was in order.

As far as service to Lafayette and Indianapolis, Amtrak was, at the time, still in the midst of a lawsuit with the bankrupt, and almost non-existent, Penn Central to get help to rebuild the original route of the Riley. By 1977, there was little but a shell left of the old Penn Central. Most routes of the old company had been absorbed by the Consolidated Rail Corporation (Conrail) on 1 April 1976. Anything that still belonged to Penn Central were those lines that Conrail didn’t want. The old line that the Riley used between Indianapolis and Lafayette had been abandoned by the Penn Central officially in 1976, at least between Zionsville and Lebanon, Docket number USRA (574). The old Lafayette line never made it to Conrail, as that company decided to use the PRR’s Frankfort line to Lebanon.

Amtrak voted to cut the service of the Cardinal completely in 1981. But key members of Congress, including the chairmen of the Amtrak appropriations committee, were against the idea. Service along the route would be ended on 1 October 1981. However, in December of the same year, Congress approved special legislation to reinstate to Cardinal, starting on 8 January 1982. The change, however, is that the service would be three times a week, instead of daily as it had been before. The train would run Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Service was also expanded to include New York, via Washington DC.

The Cardinal would still be running the route through Richmond, Muncie, Marion and Peru into the 1980s. In 1984, Amtrak decided to change the schedule of the train, with most stops of the three times a week train being late night and very early morning. This completely flipped the schedule that was in place, having an early morning Chicago departure, and an arrival in the early evening.

Cardinal service would be restored to Indianapolis and Lafayette in May 1986 when the train took over the route of the Hoosier State, which had connected Indianapolis to Chicago via Lafayette. The schedule of the Cardinal was: eastbound on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays; with westbound travelers on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays.

In the early 1970’s, the railroads in America, especially the northeastern part of the country, were in big trouble. The biggest of them all, the Penn Central (Pennsylvania New York Central Transportation Company) was fighting hard to survive…and losing. Things were made even worse a deteriorating roadbed caused a section of the important Chicago-Louisville railway link was closed by the Federal Railroad Administration. That link, south of Indianapolis on old Pennsylvania (Panhandle) rails, and north of it on New York Central (Big Four) and Pennsylvania (Panhandle) trackage, would be closed instantly, but opened over a span of several weeks. At least for freight.

As reported in the Anderson Herald of 3 August 1974, “two major sections of the main Penn Central line through Indiana, close abruptly because of deteriorated roadbed, should be reopened to freight traffic over the weekend.” Well, that’s almost right. The reopening was all up to the FRA, which has closed the track in the first place.

The lines in question included: 1) the Louisville subdivision (original Jeffersonville/Madison & Indianapolis) line connecting Indianapolis south to Louisville; and two) the (replacement) Big Four Lafayette line to Lebanon, then the Panhandle line from Lebanon to Logansport. The FRA determined that even the slowest speed limits, which had been in place on these lines, were too fast for safe travel.

The closure of these tracks also led to the almost complete stoppage of passenger traffic to the city of Indianapolis. Two of the three passenger trains, all run by Amtrak, used the lines in question to service the city. The Flordian, connecting Chicago to Louisville, and the James Whitcomb Riley, connecting Chicago to Cincinnati, were directly affected by the trackage issues. These two trains were being rerouted from the tracks they normally used, and rerouted around Indianapolis. Indianapolis passengers for both of these trains were being bused to the next available station to catch the train.

According to the Herald, 69 miles of rail, from Lebanon to Columbus, were planned, by the Penn Central, to reopen on 3 August, the day of the report. The following day, 4 August, another 21 miles from Columbus to Seymour would be available for traffic. Also to be reopened on 3 August were sections of the Chicago-Logansport line that were closed, but traffic was maintained by using double-tracked sections of the line.

Subject to FRA approval, the Penn Central planned to have the 52 mile Seymour-Louisville section opened to traffic on 9 August 1974. Another 45 miles of track, connecting Lebanon and Logansport, were hoped to be open on 16 August, two weeks from the time they were closed by government order. Two-thirds of the entire line of 315 miles was ripped out of service on 2 August, after the FRA issued such an order on 1 August 1974.

22 Indiana towns and cities found themselves in the economic lurch with the closing of the rails. Those 22 towns depended on industry supplied by the railroads to survive. The weekend repairs of the tracks put many local officials’ minds at ease. One of those towns depended on the railroad was Columbus…a city of 32,000.

Another town that would be decimated by the railroad was Edinburgh. At the time, the tiny town called itself the “Veneer Capital of the World,” with trains running in and out carrying the product that let the community survive. The town had already successfully fought the abandonment of the old Jeffersonville, Madison & Indianapolis line earlier in 1974 by the US Department of Transportation.

In the end, the rails would reopen to all traffic. For a while, anyway. The Line from Indianapolis to Lebanon, at least past Park 100, would be ultimately be abandoned. The line from Indianapolis to Louisville would be short-lined, going on to become the Louisville & Indiana…at least from milepost 4 just north of Hanna Avenue on the Indianapolis southside. The two passenger trains mentioned in the article, the Floridian and the James Whitcomb Riley, would disappear from the Hoosier landscape in the years to follow. The James Whitcomb Riley would become the “Cardinal,” the only train that still runs through the Hoosier Capital, on 30 October 1977. I will cover that in a later blog.

When the interstate system was started in the United States, most of the routes were set down quickly. Those approved by the federal government were added to the 90% federal funding list. Other that were added to the first batch were approved, but not officially funded. Indiana decided to try to get more interstates into the system. Their first request was made in 1968, 12 years after the interstate system became law. These are the roads that the ISHC wanted to add to the state at that time.

First, and the most controversial, was the proposed extension of I-69 from downtown to Castleton. The six-lane, $48.6 million highway would start at the triple level interchange already being built at I-65 and I-70 northeast of downtown, and wind its way through the northeast side to connect to the I-69/I-465 interchange at Castleton. Interchanges were planned, if approved, at: 16th Street; 30th Street; 38th Street; 46th Street; 56th Street; and 71st Street.

This northeast expressway had already been turned down by Federal officials for several reasons, including cost and justification. (Keep in mind that at that time, the northeast suburbs were still mostly small and/or farm fields. There was no way to have known that they would have blown up the way they did. So, arguing about the fact that the northeast side got cheated in this is POINTLESS. As such, it was very unlikely that the highway would ever be approved by the feds. Also, even if they did approve it, the money to build it was not allocated for any of the expansions of the 1956 interstate system.)

The northeast highway, in addition to the wanted state expressway connecting I-465 at Harding Street on the southside to I-65 and 38th on the northside, were state wishes. The Harding Expressway, which would have been SR 37, was to have been half financed by the US Government, as it was not part of the interstate system. This also included an expressway across from the SR 37 route to I-65 along the 30th Street corridor.

Second. The state wanted to add I-63 to the system. This 92.1 mile highway would link I-64 near Elberfield in Warrick County to I-70 somewhere between Terre Haute and Brazil. This would roughly parallel the US 41 corridor. Estimated cost: $131.1 million.

Third. A spur from I-64, costing $39.6 million and running for 20.8 miles, that would bypass Evansville on the east and connect to the Pennyrile Parkway at Henderson, Kentucky.

And last, 10.1 miles of an Interstate 294 extension in Lake County. This would combine with the Tri-State Highway and the improvements then being made on SR 912 (Cline Avenue) to create loop route around a lot of the Chicago suburbs in Indiana. The estimated cost was $42.6 million. This extension would use the Tri-State eastward from Illinois, then turn northward on the new SR 912, and end near the Indiana Toll Road at 129th Street.

Another request from the state was that a new section of SR 100, connecting I-65 on the south to the north leg of I-465 in Boone County, be made a part of I-465. This is the section of the current I-465 that finished the loop and had interchanges at 71st Street and 86th Street.

As mentioned above, the northeast extension would have had a hard time getting approved. Add to that the local protests about such plans, getting it approved would have been very, very, hard. The I-63 plan also died on the vine. However, it would make a proposed comeback as an alternative to the building of a cross-state Interstate 69 southern extension. One may even consider the SR 641 bypass of Terre Haute part of this plan.

The I-64 spur east of Evansville would eventually be built…as I-164. However, that designation is gone, as it has become part of I-69. The SR 912 expressway was completed. But, unfortunately, between design flaws and questionable construction, its days are (some say temporarily) over.

Another thing that was mentioned in the newspaper reports about this project is that the state didn’t actually have the money to do any of these things. The Bureau of Public Roads flat out asked the State Highway Commission which of the already approved highways were going to be deferred to build these new projects. Since no more money was being allocated from the highway fund, the US government asked, rightly so, which do you want more: a highway to Castleton, or the completion of the cross-state routes that have already been approved?