That’s a line I should add to my resume. It’s not something I was ever interested in. Along with others I was a part of the creation of The Janeway Collective, and built a statue for a certain Star Trek captain.
After our unveiling on October 24th, 2020 our group was in free fall. There were several arguments that led up to that point that spilled over afterwards; ones based on items I was not involved in nor had real decision making capabilities on. Something had to be done, or this trip was over.
The Reddit contingent saw more to be done. The possibility of scholarships, to be stewards of STEAM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, Mathematics). I told both of my daughters that this was a lifelong commitment. I meant that.
So I did what I do, when indecision is running rampant; and I see a clear path forward, I make that decision. Firstly, I incorporated the Janeway Collective as a non-profit. I then applied for an EIN for us. We then had to make and agree to a set of by-laws to govern our activities. Once that was complete; I applied for federal 501c3 non-profit status, which involved a $250 fee.
Then we waited, and waited some more.
The first sign of anything was a response from the IRS, asking for our income/expenses over the last 3 years. Thankfully we had that information, which I was able to provide to them. They also had a few other questions; which we were able to answer quickly.
Last Sunday night, I checked my mailbox and inside of it was a singular envelope from the IRS. IT WAS A DETERMINATION LETTER! We did it. It was a group effort, but I did a lot of the leg work needed.
I then applied and received state designation on the same day.
We are now able to give Artisan Alley our 30 days notice. While they did us a world of good when it came to raising funds, and connecting us with artists for the statue; the rest has been quite over reaching. We have been obligated to name them in anything we do, but I have not seen anything in kind done for us. It’s quite frustrating.
Financially it has been draining as well, as they have charged us a pretty steep amount, monthly for well over a year now. We don’t sell things; we aren’t in the business of “making money.” Each dollar we receive really counts. From a simple point of view, that cost has been HUGE for not much benefit received.
I’m excited for the future of The Janeway Collective. I am proud that the cornerstone of my presidency will be this. I am incredibly happy that most of the original people have stayed on. I’m also exicted about our new people; and what marks they may leave on this legacy I am happy to be a part of.
This week, the Bloomington city (common) council voted yes on amendment 2 of the UDO (unified development ordinance), which allows residential properties that are zoned as “single family” to be converted to a “plex” meaning there can be multiple residences on that property.
It has caused a large outcry with many, for reasons I completely understand. I will try to outline my points of view with this post.
The city of Bloomington has for as long as I can remember, and for as long as we’ve had a university presence, had issues with housing. In the beginning the students stayed with families who had extra space, paying them for their trouble; and helping out with their household.
The price of housing for those not affiliated with the university, the life long residents; has been out of line with the earned wages in the community for as long as I have a memory. My mother would move constantly simply because the price of her rent would increase; sometimes by $100 a month.
Fast forward 30 years. We are in a housing crisis. It is almost impossible to find an apartment under $700 a month. There is an entire industry of apartment complexes that rent by the bedroom to mask the true amount the apartment rents for, which in many cases is $2500.
Most of the construction happening in our area is focused directly to the student population; one that typically does not have to worry about the normal struggles life brings. Beginning in the late 1990’s, this construction has filled our downtown area with an ugly form of architecture that is plaguing our country. I call it “The future ruins of Bloomington” as an ode to what the Bloomington of my youth was called. There has been no sign of it letting up either.
Those who can afford to purchase a home keep facing an ever upward trending slope of pricing that invites those coming from the coasts as “cheap” and “affordable”, directly pricing those who live and work here out of the market. Many are forced to the surrounding counties to find affordable housing.
When I do the math; I cannot afford a more expensive place than what I have lived in for the past 15 years. AND I MAKE THE MOST I EVER HAVE. Almost double the median income level for Bloomington per The US Census. The only way to increase my income in my job title is to move to San Francisco or Washington D.C. Meanwhile, a home just up the road from me that had been abandoned for years was flipped. It was purchased for $60k, and placed on the market after remodeling it for more than 10x the original purchase price! They have since dropped the original asking price by $80k, and for all purposes the home no longer appears to be for sale.
While wages have increased significantly in the area; the housing market has increased even more. There’s no chance to get ahead, many are forced to choose between food or electricity, etc.
While the more affluent neighborhoods of Bloomington, with their historical and stately homes will not be affected by the UDO and plexes, the poorer ones are under direct and immediate attack. Those working class neighborhoods will be priced out of the homes they worked hard for due to a mix of tax rates and plexes increasing the values of the area to a point where they can no longer afford to live there.
Due to the Indiana state legislature’s all out attack on “home rule”, the city officially does not have many tools in their toolbox to give assistance or regulate housing costs. They clearly saw this as a method to help ease the ever increasing pressure on our local housing market. When your only choices aren’t what you ideally want; but something that helps – I get it. I just believe it’s a wrong move, one that will dramatically change the nature and character of the city in coming years.
This gives monied interests another tool to continue the plundering of the city for their own financial gain. Instead of remodeling a home; turn it into a quad-plex and make 4 times as much!
At the same time; Annexation is on again. So these policies will move to other areas that are ripe for that sort of development if it passes.
I still can’t help but see these policies as a sign from the city that they are broke. The debits are more than the credits. Prior to all of this, the Mayor pushed to increase the income tax rate for the entire county; to which the city council has a majority vote on. All other boards put out messages of non-support; and the city council did not put up enough votes to make it happen.
Yet, a 25 million dollar park with bond the city tax payers are paying for is a good use of money? A park that more and more, I see reports of issues with families encountering homeless shooting up heroin and or having sex in public bathrooms.
Which brings me back to my original point; our homeless population is exploding simply due to the sheer expense of housing. Yet the city is doing everything to attack them, not support them.
Please, sign me up. I totally want to be a part of this, said no person ever.
I was hoping to wake up at 7am and begin working on a test I need to update for a faculty member. My hopes were dashed, and I ended up not really getting out of bed until about 10am.
I then began my morning routine of going through all of the emails I had received overnight. When I was almost finished with that task, another email hit my inbox, from The Bloomingtonian. The City of Bloomington is beginning a retry at annexation. Sigh.
The green, purple, red, pink, yellow and orange areas are to be annexed.
Surprisingly, I guess I did not write anything on my blog about it when this originally popped up in 2017. The map above was originally a much larger area to be annexed.
I can’t say that it was due to my input, but all of the “1” areas were originally a singular area. I kept telling a friend who is on the city council that those areas needed split up, as they differ greatly. The next map produced was wildly similar than the one shown here.
During that time, he would provide me with information in confidence and I would spew it out and about, frustrating him to the point where he almost ended our friendship.
This is one area where he and I are diametrically opposed, and I failed to consider our relationship in the grand scheme of things with the words I said. I failed him, and for that I will not pester him and then blab my mouth in the clear on social media.
BUT I WILL WRITE MY OPINIONS
A button I received at the first “informational session” during the original annexation push in 2017
I feel that I must provide some history on this since I did not write about it previously.
In 2017, seemingly out of the blue the mayor of Bloomington, John Hamilton unleashed this wide plan to annex over 10,000 acres of “fringe” area into the city of Bloomington. The city hadn’t annexed anything for a period of almost 20 years, and there are certain areas that quite obviously need to be. Over that period of time the city has changed significantly, and the population has increased as well.
Original Annexation Map, 2017
There were several township meetings held so the residents of these areas would have an opportunity to redress the elected officials about this. The one for Van Buren township (where I live) was quite lively. With many boos, etc, etc. It was there where I was first introduced to Geoff McKim, a county council member. I call him the “numbers guy”. He broke down what would happen fiscally if annexation went through. It wasn’t pretty.
I do not live in an area that will be annexed, but per what he said in 2017 my taxes would increase by 26% due to the loss of others on the tax roll for the county and my township.
The only play against annexation in Indiana is remonstrance, where I believe it is 63% of the property owners officially state they do not want to be annexed, it will be stopped.
Back in 2017, the city also stated that many of our township fire departments services would be essentially gutted; and people including me would have to rely upon the Bloomington Fire Department. Their closest station is almost 5 miles away. My township fire department has a station less than 2 miles away, and they have been here in under 2 minutes.
The city pulled some blows that were quite frankly below the belt back then too, as the issue of remonstrance waivers became a major issue. Many new subdivisions outside of city limits would connect to city utilities, and the city would provide it given waivers were signed for these properties. This gave the homeowners no say in the process. It essentially silenced them. This angered me, greatly.
Then it was announced that Cook would pay the city $100,000 per year in order to not be included in the area to be annexed. This made it very clear to us poor working stiffs that this was clearly about money, and a pay to play system was in place locally.
My buddy Steve was right, “All Politics is Local.”
Then, something came out of left field that shocked us all. The state added language into a bill that killed the annexation. Bloomington quickly filed suit stating the bill violated the state’s prohibition on special legislation. The city eventually won that case in the Indiana Supreme Court.
I was happy to see that play out, and work it’s way through the court system. I am no scholar on our states constitution and do not understand many of the rules and mechanisms in play for situations like these. I may be against the annexation; but I am not against our judicial system for these decisions.
So, here we are again. Four years later, a whole lot of arguing in person, online and before the highest court in the state. I don’t know what will happen, but I am still against this massive annexation plan.
The city has went on a wild spending spree, built a $25 million dollar park but still seems to need more money.
By contrast, my township recently completed construction on a new fire station at it’s secondary location. No bonds were issued, no taxes were raised. It was done through fiscal responsibility and saving funds for the expense.
VBFD’s new Stanford station
I’m going to end post I’ve been working on all day long with something short, but sweet. This is an image of me in 2017, at the first informational session the city held on annexation. It was promised to be almost like a round table discussion; but it ended up being just a lot of poster boards around city hall. It felt like they were just trying to hide from those who they wanted to bring into the city to me. I proudly held that sign then, and I feel the same today.
Something I’ve always been critical of, primarily because I’ve never felt comfortable with is leadership. I’m more of a get to work and get things done sort of guy. Handing out tasks, and delegating aren’t tools in my toolbox.
Professionally, I’m an army of one. A lone wolf in a world that praises teamwork and cooperative efforts. It’s just in my bones, and in my nature. I can only blame it on my growing up as an only child. I didn’t have others to rely upon, I just had myself.
A few months ago, I was unanimously voted to be the president of the Janeway Collective. I think primarily because I took a situation that was in free fall and brought some order to it. I officially incorporated us, and we are currently in the middle of applying for 501c3 status.
Moi, when the statue was unveiled to the world – 10/24/2020
For me, it’s not the issue of the doing, it’s the “being a leader” end. It’s my place to set goals, direct our meetings and set agendas. To me, those things are minutia of minutia.
The Collective, and the people within it are near and dear to my heart. It’s a cause I’ve always been for. I’m extremely proud to have been a part of the group that finally got it done. I’m humbled beyond belief that they all trust me to lead our starship on the journey afterwards, or to give Star Trek speak, “The Continuing Mission.”
Our little statue has become an inspiration around the world. With a group working to build one in New Orleans for Sisko, and calls for one in France for Picard.
It feels so odd to just be a part of a rag tag bunch from a “small town” in Indiana that has caused quite the global stir.
Last week I began a new adventure professionally. One I didn’t know or have a choice in participating on. I have been named the Primary IT Contact for the still under construction, Regional Academic Health Center.
Rendering of completed site
The RAHC from what I have been told is being pronounced “rock” by IU Health personnel, is a joint venture between IU Health and Indiana University, my employer. It is a new hospital that is replacing the current one, which exists in a central location. It also houses a building for all of IU’s clinical education units, which I work in.
The buildings sit on the site of the old IU par 3 golf course and driving range.
This opportunity has given me no accolades, no pay raises, no appreciation. It has only given me seemingly incredulous amounts of responsibility that I did not have previously.
I have been kept in the dark on many things to do with this project. Specifically with many things that directly affect my job. To say frustrating is an understatement.
Last week, I took care of a large portion of my newfound responsibility by configuring the computers in each of the general classrooms, sans one of them. I made a friend, who seemed saddened by how disturbed the landscape was changed.
The the task was easy, just overwhelming. Put a new operating system on roughly 20 computers while learning a new building and the technologies put into the building that I had never worked with, or had an opportunity to know about.
Classroom technology control panel, there are quite a few flaws
That panel gives me some anger. IU is full of red tape and bureaucracy, much like a government is. The official building code for this building is AH, not RAHC. I’m a stickler for detail. I have requested that be changed.
This screen almost threw me into a seizure
IU Health, is not IU. But this partnership and what is in essence “licensing deal” has blurred the lines for many across the state. There are many who think they are one in the same. It frustrates me on many levels. The president of IU and the dean of the School of Medicine are on the board of IU Health, for which they both get a salary that is along the lines of the median household income level for the area. It’s through these sort of deals that have gotten us to where we are today.
This week, I will have to configure the large room of our building. It can be split into four different rooms and has up to sixteen different configurations. All of these configurations are controlled with a touch panel mounted to a rack in what will eventually be my office.
I’m not a fan of that space as my office, as it offers no security. Others will need access for the functions of that room. I have spoken with the building manager, and there are other spaces that I will be able to utilize that foot the bill.
The largest thing lingering in my mind at this point is how I will handle all of the responsibilities given to me on this building, with all of the other responsibilities I have still in the other buildings I support on campus? All signs point to hiring an assistant in my eyes. My management says “ticket numbers will tell us if you need one.” It’s hard to make numbers when you are spending half of your days driving between buildings however.
For almost two years, I have been on a journey with other Bloomingtonians to complete something others had tried, but never completed. Over the weekend, we did the thing, and completed it.
The Herald-Times Front Page, 10/16/2020
Three disconnected groups of Bloomington area residents joined forces, doing what they say couldn’t be done. I take no credit for anything major here, but I was involved as much as I could be.
For those reading this who aren’t familiar with the Star Trek universe, Kathryn Janeway was the first Captain of a Star Trek series, Voyager. Her character was born in Bloomington, Indiana. This immediately became a source of pride for trekkies in the area.
The monument and event took place on the B-Line trail, with an immense crowd of fans. So many that it made social distancing almost impossible. I played my typical role of jack of all trades, giving a hand to make sure what needed to be done, was. I’m not fond of the limelight, and prefer to stay out of it as much as possible.
The monument is a bronze bust on a limestone base with an inset stainless steel plate. Beside it is a informational table, that has my name on it twice.
The unveiling setup
Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, we had to lean on live streaming harder than we originally planned for the event. We had some difficulties with the microphones causing echo on the videos we played but otherwise it went well. Later on that day I had checked the stats for the live video, and 16.1k people had viewed it!
Kate Mulgrew has such an infectious smile
We were fortunate that Kate Mulgrew agreed to join us virtually. The event was at 11am but she was in California, where it was 8am. I was so happy to be behind the scenes, where I got these excellent photos of her reactions to this monument of a character she played and is reprising in the new series Prodigy.
If you look closely, you will see my name – twice!
The informational table tells the story of Janeway, and her creator Jeri Taylor who spent her childhood in Bloomington and graduated from Indiana University. The papers in which the Janeway character was created are housed at the Lilly Library. A display of these papers was in the original plan for the unveiling event.
I’m not a fan of pictures of myself, but here I am.
I began the day at 7am, and it was full go until everything ended roughly at 2pm. I was tired, I was exhausted but I was also immensely humbled and fulfilled by the days events. My youngest daughter was there with me to be witness to the event. My eldest joined the live stream, as did one of my aunts in Oklahoma. The next day was my 40th birthday, and this is the best present a guy could have.
My blurb in the booklet
We produced a booklet for the unveiling. I’m unsure of how many were produced exactly, but we ran out of them before the unveiling actually happened. I grabbed four of them because I knew they would go quickly. One of them I gave to Jeremy Hogan, who runs The Bloomingtonian, I gave my girlfriend another. One of them I saved for Steve Volan, who without his connection I would have never been involved in this. I made sure he would be added to the special thanks portion. Leaving one for myself.
We haven’t discussed our long term goals or plans as of yet, I am currently working on a Wikipedia page for the monument, which is currently just a section on the main Janeway page.
In the past week the world has been reminded of my hometown, Bloomington Indiana. Sadly, for the same reasons it has many times in the past. A racial attack on another human took place.
It’s a little personal this time however, as the person who was attacked is someone I know of. Someone I have interacted with, and someone I equivocally believe and stand by.
At this point, the videos have went viral, the stories have been told. I am not going to regurgitate what has already been said. I’m going to explain to you how someone I first thought of as a troublemaker, an instigator, is someone I always believed.
Vauhxx Booker came to prominence (to me) as a member of Black Lives Matter. At the time, they were primarily making noise by interrupting city and county council meetings, and essentially ending a “state of the city” address. This was how I saw this man for a very long time.
I didn’t understand, nor appreciate the actions of the group at the time. I felt this was not a “proper” or “just” way to cause any meaningful change. That was of course because I hadn’t really opened my mind to the struggle the African American community has faced for hundreds of years.
After these events, Vauhxx ran for a position on the City Council. I couldn’t vote for him, but that was a move I appreciated – and wanted to see him win. The city council is full of people with ties to the university and lacking people of color.
This is when I came to know Vauhxx, as he was brought on board of a Facebook group I co-moderate. He was a loud voice for positions and issues most of us would have never thought about. He was unapologetic and brash in calling out people on their inherent biases and racial points of view. He added friction in a space that previously did not, but we all respected his voice and did not deny his right to speak his mind.
Over a few months, it was decided that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, and he was removed as a moderator. Our collective still respected the man however, the split was not made out of anger or haste.
At some point, he also joined one of the many commissions in the county, sitting on the Human Rights Commission. That actually inspired me, as I have reached out multiple times about joining local commissions and boards, to be more actively involved in my own community.
Vauhxx may be a well known person in my community, but he isn’t well liked by all. As witness to my previous words, I wasn’t exactly his biggest fan. He has a slight criminal record, as do I. None of us are perfect, and I don’t expect him to be either. As far as I’m concerned, all of the slanderous things being said of him at this point are just that, slander, victim blaming or apologist on behalf of white supremacy.
When I saw his facebook post that went viral, I did not doubt any facts. Nor did I doubt any of his narrative. I am sure he wrote it as soon as he could to provide a narrative in the moment. As soon as friends created a gofundme for him, I gave $500 as well as offering to cover any and all costs he might need help with for mental health services.
While I’ve never personally witnessed such behavior, I do not deny them happening. I never have. Our community has came out to support him in ways that have made me proud to be a Bloomingtonian. At the same point, there are many on the periphery of my life who have made statements that make me question their place in my life.
My mind processes things slowly. This however, I do not question. There have been too many lives lost for reasons that are without cause. There are too many lives that have been ruined by the judicial system that has imposed undue fines and even heavier prison sentences. I am proud to see society, during the middle of a pandemic, fight for this. While my physical restrictions make it unable for me to protest in the heat – I am there in spirit with you, by your side.
Yesterday, I ceremoniously broke ground on a monument to be unveiled this fall, along with the rest of the Janeway Collective. The event was covered by our local newspaper and an award winning photojournalist who runs his own operation, aptly named The Bloomingtonian.
Roughly one year and three months ago two groups of people working on the same goal merged, forming the Janeway Collective.
What is this monument? It’s a future birthplace monument for captain Kathryn Janeway, from the Star Trek Series Voyager. The creator of her character Jeri Taylor, grew up in Bloomington and graduated from IU. She in kind, made the good captain’s birthplace the same.
James T. Kirk has one, why can’t she? Personally I think all of the Star Trek captains should have monuments. This seems to be a huge subject these days.
If you have not watched Voyager, it’s an inspiring piece of small screen cinema. Stuck in the delta quadrant, so far away from home that it would be impossible to make it back home in their lifetime. Through her strength in leadership and courage to think outside the box, they made it back.
An inspiration to scientists and astronauts, Janeway deserves this honor. In a world where women still make less than men on average. Where what they do with their bodies are often controlled and legislated by men, Janeway deserves this honor.
This monument is a dedication to women everywhere. Through the ages, you have been the giver of life but treated as less than. I am proud to be a member of a group who publicly states this is not the case. As a father of two daughters, these subjects are important to me. They should not be valued based on their biological functions but on their contributions to our world.
In this time where our country is seemingly divided on any issue there is, this is the singular thing that makes me happy to be a part of society. It is the only thing that reinforces that there are people who celebrate the good parts of life, instead of focusing on the bad.
After the ground breaking, the collective went to the secret location where the bronze bust is being held to view it. For most of us, this was the first time. It’s absolutely beautiful. However, we are keeping images of it a secret until the official unveiling on October 24th, 2020. It’s the most excellent birthday present I could ever receive.
I cannot end this post without giving thanks to other members of the Janeway Collective. Peter & Mary, for their undying love and passion for “making this so.” Mary M. (MAM), for your spiritual guidance and wisdom through all of this, always coming to the table with mindfulness. Adam, for your connections in the artist community that brought thoughts to reality. Melissa, for your abilities in helping us plan and reach out to the hospitality trades. Josh, for your wicked abilities in web building, marketing and showing me a different way to do things. And to all other members of the Janeway Collective, who much like me pitch in and do what we can to help this come to light.
I’ve been in IT at Indiana University since 2008. In that time, Bradley Wheeler has always been the CIO, head of all technology.
I really don’t know where this post will lead me, but I feel I need to write it to get it out of my head, the subject matter bothers me.
Recently, and shockingly it was announced by the president of IU that he would “retire” his role, take a sabbatical and then return to his roots as a professor at the Kelley School of Business.
Replacing him? The head of my very own department. A person that has went from essentially a nobody that I had never heard of before, to being the head of IT in just a short 2 years. It doesn’t pass my sniff test. Not by a long shot.
When I was just beginning to really make a name for myself in the pit of nameless souls called IT, Brad would come to the office I worked at and talk to me on a level that was personal. He would talk about how the office in which I resided was one of the first big projects he had been in charge of. My office at the time had a long curved desk, with a meeting area that was turreted with long vertical windows.
He spoke of that office like it was his baby. Genuine care and pride. He never made me feel like the hourly nobody that I was, and never did. I appreciated his vision and I appreciated his leadership.
As time marched on, and I did create a name for myself I was given a bonus and a letter from Brad. It was for being a IU Brand Ambassador, in my work in helping other centers of the School of Medicine across the state. I hold that letter in the highest of regard. It sits framed, right next to my degree from IU.
To get to my point however. I don’t think this is something Brad wanted to do, I think it’s internal university politics at play, with him paying the price.
The current lead of my division came to us more like a blue collar person, not a white collar leadership person. His speech was rough, his ideas even more obtuse. Overtime it was like he went through a makeover for executives. I found it very odd, and still do.
At the same point, we are all working off campus and working on paths to return to a new normal. My leadership are pushing unreasonable expectations to migrate our computers to a different build, regardless of what problems this causes the users of said computers. Users who have little to know real computer / operating system knowledge, medical research labs that are working hard to fight cancer, and computers that are accessed remotely by users that need them for their job.
They don’t care, they just want their dashboards to say X numbers of computers have this. There is no security threat, there is no significant reason for the change other than the change itself.
I sent a message to several of my research labs and faculty members to make them aware of this today. What came out of that message was one thing, consent. That’s what is missing here, consent.
My people rely on these computers to do work, and store data important to their work on them. If I were to blatantly rebuild these machines, there is a possibility that data that is important to them would be lost. To me, an unacceptable risk.
I haven’t connected all of the dots yet, but there has been increasing measures to combine IU and IU Health’s computing resources. Those measures didn’t increase until the head of my division started his role. Coincidence? I really don’t think it is.
I sent Brad an email, not expecting a response. I had to air some of my grievances at what is going on. He replied in kind, and thanked me for my kind words. I know he will be okay, I know I’ll be okay. I just do not like the direction I see the world of education going. A world that welcomed me in where the real world never did.
Another one bites the dust. Another piece of my childhood, my memories and my life, gone. I drove by today, and the lot is flat. No remnants of the building remain.
Such has become so frequent locally that it’s normal. It kills my heart and breaks my soul.
1301 South Walnut Street
I lived in this home for a period of time. It had been converted into four apartments. I lived in the two that are facing this google street view image.
I was shoved into this new living situation because “Kathy says you can’t live here anymore” according to my father. Kathy is my stepmother. I don’t know how or why he allowed that to happen. I certainly wouldn’t if faced with a similar situation.
My mother had just moved back from her years long sojourn with her husband at the time, on a drug and alcohol fueled run from the law. They ended up in Lubbock, TX as they ran out of gas to make it to their original destination, Oregon. My mom had spent time there working at a nursery, while they lived in a camping trailer. She had come back alone, trying to get away from him.
So here I was, essentially thrown at my mother like the garbage. It was odd, it was scary and it was traumatic. It was only a 1 bedroom apartment, my bedroom was the living room. I had no place to keep things, even clothes. Such was my life for that period of time.
It was during this period that I got into some of the most serious trouble I had ever gotten into in my life. It was the summer between 5th and 6th grade. I, like my father had matured physically earlier than my peers. I was six feet tall by then. I met some of the neighborhood kids and started to form bonds, as the move meant going to a new school (that also doesn’t exist anymore). It was a nice summer bonding with those guys, we got into a lot of mischief.
There was a new gas station one block away, called Bigfoot at the time but now a Circle K. Back then, they used to store all of their cases of soda right outside the front door. We hatched a plot to take it all, and take it all we did. With two lookouts, we would run across the front making sure to keep our heads down to not be seen by the employees. We would then drop off our load at the back of the gas station, in an alley. It was a circular pattern that we repeated until we had met our goal. We then split up the spoils and took our booty home.
I, through the connections I had made found out about these things we called “bullets.” No, they were not the item a piece of ammunition fires out of a firearm, but something used on cable TV systems to block premium TV channels. This was before the wave of “digital” everything in our lives. These “bullets” would give you the channel if you placed it on the back of your TV however. So, we banded together to harvest as many of these as possible – to sell on our neighborhood’s black market.
There was a trick to harvesting these “bullets” however, as they were installed on the distribution blocks that fed cable TV access to each home, roughly fifteen feet in the air. Most of the electric poles in the vicinity had steps embedded in them however, making access easier. Those steps didn’t start until about six feet, causing some issues. We would often use trash cans and other items we could find to help us reach our goal. We obviously couldn’t do this during the day, so it would always be late at night when we did this. We didn’t want an unsuspecting person to start looking out their windows when we disconnected their cable service to remove these items, just to connect it back a minute or so later.
Officially called a “Positive Trap Filter”
They were a very popular item, which we would sell for $20 a piece. They worked for Cinemax, Showtime and Encore but would not work for HBO. For HBO, the cable company installed a device that blocked the network and would have to do something in their office to enable the service.
It was during this time that I also became addicted to the act of being a “peeping tom.” There was a piece of my sexuality that was becoming awakened. My stepfather constantly had porn videos playing, or old fashioned pornographic magazines around. It wasn’t all about the sexual end of the spectrum for me however. It was about doing something I knew was wrong and the rush of adrenaline it gave me.
Those were the good times. That was when life was good and my innocence was being chipped away slowly. Then my stepfather came back, looking for my mother. I was actually spending the night at my best friends house when we heard a very loud clatter. It was him, he had driven back from Texas, pulling that camper he and my mom had lived in the entire time.
Soon enough, he had moved in with my mother and we moved into the apartment downstairs. It was “larger” according to the adults, but again I had a couch to sleep on and not much else. My clothes were kept in a cardboard box in the bedroom. The bathroom was so small that only 1 person could stand in it at a time.
The kitchen was straight out of the 1950’s, with metal cabinets and countertop. The stove looked like a 1959 Cadillac, with curves galore.
I had heard a tale from neighbors about that apartment. A trucker and his wife had lived there previously. He came back from a run to discover her in the act of cheating on him with another man. The neighbors said that he shot her in the head in the bathroom. There was a bullet sized hole that was covered by a piece of foam backed plastic and a couple of blood spatters high on the wall. I believe that story to be true.
Eventually tales of violence and sexual conquests would come back to the apartment, and they would leave their mark on me forever.
That summer, I had made a girlfriend of sorts. She lived by my best friend and we would talk here and there. Eventually we started talking on the phone a lot. We then began going to each others houses. There was one large difference between us however, she was 17 and I wasn’t 12 yet. Physically, I had the stature of a 17 year old, but wasn’t matured emotionally yet.
One night she came over, my stepdad filled her thoughts of being his secretary of his “company” that he ran (he always worked for himself, but was by no means rich), gave her alcohol and started massaging her. Before I knew it, they were in the bedroom, having sex. I couldn’t believe what was happening, right there basically in front of me. I was crushed on multiple emotional angles. I didn’t even know how to process it. When they finished, she came and offered to perform oral sex on me, but I wasn’t even sure what that was and I didn’t even want her near me. My stepdad paid for her to take a cab home, I never heard from her or saw her again. She and I had been playing “footsie” before everything transpired.
When school began, I was suddenly forced to realize how much of a different area I was in. There was originally two 6th grade classes, but one of the teachers quit. After multiple substitutes, we were finally provided with a teacher who was supposed to be there the rest of the year. I don’t know if she finished the year or not, because I was expelled from the school in October.
Before I get to how, I must explain why. Being the tallest kid in school, I became a target of anger from all of the other boys in my class, except for one who was oddly enough the smallest in the 6th grade class. He was one of the kids I befriended over the summer. I was chased, beaten and terrorized in and outside of school.
One day, while walking home from school the entire population of 6th grade boys followed me, in an attempt to beat me up. This was when I refused to be a victim any longer. My mother surprisingly showed up in an attempt to pick me up from school and witnessed this, along with the single friend I had made. As these boys were throwing rocks and other items at my back, I turned around and threw one of them into the path of a car. He almost got hit.
That however didn’t stop the attacks. A few days later, a group of them came with BB guns and knives, shooting up the apartment and bursting holes into every window. I grabbed the keys to my mom’s Dodge St. Regis and ran them down (no I didn’t run them over). I did however, run over their bicycles – all of them.
Those kids still weren’t deterred. My stepdad had bought me a cheap Daisy BB handgun. I carried it with me anywhere and everywhere I went after that. Anytime I saw one of those kids, I would shoot at them. I had hit a few of them, it’s aim wasn’t exactly precise.
Eventually, I decided to take that BB handgun to school with the intention of shooting everyone I could. The stresses from the horrible life I was living in addition to the constant attacks I was facing from the school (both students and administration) were more than I could bear.
So I loaded it up with all of the BB’s it could handle, and brought an extra tube of BB’s with me. I showed that friend I had made right before we made it to school. I was going to leave it in my backpack but chickened out and hid it in a bush instead. Someone saw this and reported it to the principal. Within an hour they had called the police and placed me under direct supervision.
The police talked to me about how that BB handgun looked like a real one, and how they would shoot someone with real ammunition if they saw someone with it. I was expelled from the school (Templeton Elementary School) but I was advanced to the 7th grade with only having 2 months of my 6th grade education. Much like the majority of educators in my life, they were just passing the buck.
When I got back home, my stepfather surprised me with a beating with a switch that I’ll never forget. I was then driven to Terre Haute to stay in Charter Hospital under lock down for the 2nd time in my life. This experience was much darker than the previous time. I was there for 3 weeks.
I don’t know if there were other complaints made about me to the police or what, but I was eventually put on probation for a term of 6 months. I distinctly remember my father taking me to the homes of each of the boys who’s bikes I had destroyed. He paid their parents for my destructive defense.
So, goodbye 1301 South Walnut. You brought a lot of misery to my life. While I certainly didn’t have a good time while being a resident of your neighborhood, you did leave memories and impressions on my life that I will carry with me to my dying day.
Postscript: That single friend I had made while in that school turned out to be the biggest bully of them all. His mother died when we were in middle school, and he was put into the foster care system. I eventually lost contact with him. It wasn’t until the age of Myspace and Yahoo! Profiles that we reconnected. It was great for the 11 year old me, who always appreciated how he stood by me when it felt like the world was against me. He eventually moved back to Bloomington, but lived a life on the edge. Sleeping on friends couches or making girlfriends just for a place to stay. I offered him my garage for anything, and did whatever I could for him. I even enlisted my dad’s AAA service when his car broke down. He constantly pressured me to let him stay at my home for free, but my wife at the time wouldn’t allow it. I eventually got divorced, and when I began dating again, he started harassing me about it. I had to block him on social media and cut him out of my life on the request of the police. He has a lengthy rap sheet, with multiple convictions but seems to always slide between the cracks of the justice system. Funny to call it that, as his first name is Justice. As of late, he began harassing people making comments on The Bloomingtonian’s Facebook page. The website is operated by an award winning photojournalist who is trying to keep local journalism alive. I’m happy he’s no longer in my life, but sad that he can’t let go of his own sadness enough to not bully and intimidate others.
