Editor’s note: Nashville resident “Buzz” King has agreed to write a periodic column for The Democrat to share some of his 70 years of Brown County memories and experiences. This is his first piece.
The following recollections in some cases reflect my poor memory, and in some cases, my true experiences, from the early 1950s.
I was very young, but do recall vividly the grand opening of the new Brown County Volunteer Fire Department’s new building on East Main Street. Great fun for a kid.
A siren was installed on a platform above the northeast corner. The siren was sounded if a fire was reported, and the volunteers who could would rush to the station where a chalkboard identified the location of the fire. They would drive to that location where the truck, which had been driven by the first two men who got to the station, was ready to fight the fire.
Indiana Bell set up five phones and switches to trigger the siren: One at Keith Taggart’s house, one at the Sinclair gas station, another at the Star Store and at Miller’s drugstore, and I just can’t recall the other locations. Max Kritzer had one at home.
The siren was tested each day at noon and that became a expected event each day. If the siren was sounded for extended time, then there was a true fire reported at or near the noon hour — likewise, late at night to ensure everyone would wake and hear it.
There was no countywide water system the,n and ponds at the out-of-town homes were the only source of firefighting water. Town had a two-inch water line from the park (Lake Ogle). Town fires had a supply, but very limited. Large fires required help from Columbus, Bloomington and Franklin. We had some real doozies which required just that.
CB radios were also used to spread the word to those who lived over the ridge.
One block east of my house on Franklin Street, at the corner of Franklin and Jefferson, southeast corner, was the Jones House. The current Jones was Dick, and he seemed old to me at the time. He spent his days sitting in his armchair smoking and his radio sounding, while looking out the opened front door. The kids in the neighborhood, including myself, would stand outside on Franklin Street and yell “jellyroll!” and Dick would often come storming out to chase us as we scattered in all directions. I guess he wasn’t so old, because he could keep up for 15 minutes or so every time.
One weekday afternoon as I headed east, I noticed smoke coming from the chair. I yelled for Dick to wake up, to no reply! I ran back home when Mary McGrayel asked what was up and she reported the fire. The truck came pronto and dragged the chair to the front yard. No real flame, just smoldering from a dropped cigar, and Dick did not wake ‘til the truck showed up.
A two-story frame building sat where Brozinni Pizzeria is now located. It was built as a Knights of Pythias meeting hall and later was the home and studio of Frank Hohenberger, a local historic photographer and printer. The business was called Torch Light Inn, a weekend restaurant, and it was on fire. I ran for home to report it as the siren rang out. I had been outdone by someone closer to a phone than I.
I had, that year, won a Brownie camera and returned to photograph the fire from beginning to end. And the end was total.
”Buzz” King is a nearly lifelong resident of Brown County and past president of the Nashville Town Council. His father, Fred King, was the unofficial county historian.
