​Back in the mid-70s, I took an outside sales position with a large national company that sold automotive and industrial maintenance supplies. I was starting a new sales territory and I was really enjoying the challenge. My customers were in the automotive field and consisted of dealerships, trucking companies, school bus fleets and vehicle maintenance facilities.

After a couple of years, I was asked to become a sales trainer. It was a part-time position and I would be able to retain my local Indianapolis sales territory. I would train and assist new sales agents in 17 states. I traveled out of Indiana only one week of each month. I would generally fly to my destination early on a Monday morning, work with a fairly new sales agent for the week and return to Indianapolis late Friday afternoon. It was a nice change of pace from my normal.

One of my trips took me to New Orleans. I had never been to that special city and was looking forward to that week. My early Monday morning flight was uneventful. The new sales agent that I was going to work with met me at the airport. It was about lunchtime when we exited the airport and I suggested lunch. He quickly pulled into a Denny’s.

We had several things to discuss and I needed to get to know this fellow and plan our week. We had a nice conversation and after lunch, we made some sales calls. Around 5 p.m. we called it a day and he drove to my hotel. I checked in and we spent time planning our next day. It was then that I explained to him that this was my first trip to New Orleans. I was hoping to have meals at places that I couldn’t enjoy in Indianapolis – no more Denny’s or any other fast food. He laughed and assured me that he would do his best to see that we wouldn’t visit any more chain restaurants that week.

A couple of days later, we began our day making some planned sales calls. It seemed we were closer to the downtown area. Around 11:30 a.m., we parked the car and walked about three blocks to a small downtown restaurant that was almost empty. A young lady showed us to a table. We were not given menus but were asked about drinks. There were three people sitting at a table near us.

After a short while, food started flowing out of the kitchen. Those folks at the other table and our table for two were inundated with small portions of fabulous dishes. I was both shocked and confused. Why were we receiving such a royal treatment? Later, I found out that the father of the sales agent that I was working with had a rental property that was rented by the chef. The folks eating at the other table were food critics from New York City. They were there to check out the place and sample the food for a future magazine story.

We enjoyed our special lunch for over three hours. About every 15 minutes, another tray of small dishes of fabulous food would arrive to our tables. It was amazing. When we departed the restaurant, we drove directly to my hotel. That was a very memorable week and especially that day at the restaurant. I never did get to see the magazine article.

While I was writing this column, I had the New Orleans Saints-Los Angeles Rams playoff game on my television. I began experiencing a small Saints connection. Then Jimmy Buffett, a big Saints fan, sang the National Anthem. The Jimmy Buffett-New Orleans connection became larger. I met Buffett at a concert several years ago when he gave me a short tour of his motorhome bus. I love it when connections come together like that.

​I’ve been looking back over our just completed holiday season. One thing I noticed as I reviewed the past few weeks was the times that I connected with folks who attended Edgewood Grade School, as I did. A couple of my good friends, Ted Lobdell and Barry Hix, have been so instrumental in putting together several reunions that covered all classes that attended Edgewood Grade School.

There is a very interesting Facebook page called,” Friends of Edgewood Elementary”. This group has over 650 members. Ted and Barry are in charge of the site where members can post some favorite and funny memories. All sorts of comments, questions and pictures are posted on the site. I was looking at a photo of the 1951-52 Marion County basketball champs, the Edgewood Grade School 8th grade boys basketball team. I quickly recognized a player that I felt honored to be a friend of his for many years.

Joe Simpson attended and played basketball at both Edgewood Grade School and Southport High School. Several years later, we reconnected when I discovered he was working with a good friend of ours at a Southside business. The junior high school building had not yet been built in 1952. Perry Township grade schools had eight grades at that time. Edgewood had many students that a smaller building, the James Whitcomb Riley School, was constructed on the Edgewood property.

I was in the very first 2nd-grade class in the new building that only had 1st- and 2ndgrade classes. My high school class is very close. We have a reunion each year and a breakfast and lunch each month. I attended our first lunch of 2019 last week. I sat beside a young lady that I first met in the 2nd grade. Sharon Brinkoetter-Kinder and I were in the same class in the Riley building.

We talked and laughed during the lunch. We remembered the feelings we enjoyed as we walked through the Riley building after it was reopened a few years ago. The James Whitcomb Riley is again a school building for students in Perry Township. I was reminiscing about my feelings as I walked down the hall to the classroom we attended. I could almost feel myself shrinking down to my height as a 7-year-old boy during that walk. Sharon had some of the same feelings when she visited the building.

There were a few postings on Facebook about one of the very special teachers, Georgia Stevens, who taught at Edgewood Grade School. She passed away in December. She taught in Perry Township for 35 years; 20 years at Edgewood and 15 years at Keystone Middle School. I’m lucky that I have two different experiences connected with Edgewood Grade School. First was my six years of learning from some special teachers and school staff.

Paul L. (Pete) Bailey was the Edgewood Principal for many years when I was a student and later when I became a school bus driver and drove students to Edgewood. A few years ago at one of the Edgewood reunions, I felt honored to sit with Edgewood teachers Verne Chandler and Bill Pickard. It was special to see many of their former students come to the table and visit with them. I have reconnected with several former Edgewood students that I drove to school. The latest being Denise Morris-Clarke. She and her brother David Morris rode with me from their home in Rosedale Hills to school and back each day. 

​I first met them as 4th graders. At one of the reunions, I reconnected with David. A few weeks ago, I received a Facebook friend request from Denise that I quickly accepted. I’m hoping that the three of us might get together for lunch soon. I love it that David is a retired school teacher and now is driving a school bus. Happy New Year !! Shonk is a 1960 graduate of Southport High School, a ’63 grad of Indiana Central College (now the University of Indianapolis) and a retired bus driver from Beech Grove Schools.

Last week I reminisced about my Christmases from when I was a young boy up through the time that I lived in California for a couple of years and didn’t get home for the holidays. Christmas was also special for me when my son, Mark, was young and enjoyed visiting Santa.

I loved watching Mark play with the gifts that  the jolly old fellow brought him. Part of our family Christmas was to visit my wife’s sister and her family on Christmas Eve. Early on I learned that she and her husband didn’t believe in telling their children anything that wasn’t totally true. Their kids were told that there was not a person named Santa Claus who delivered presents to good little boys and girls. On one Christmas Eve we were visiting with them and I had walked into the living room and was quietly sitting by myself enjoying the tree.

Their daughter, Leslie, who was probably 5 or 6 at the time, walked into the room and over to the tree and started looking at the wrapped presents around it. We started talking about the fun of opening all those presents on Christmas morning. At some point I must have mentioned Santa. Without turning around to face me, Leslie said loudly, “There is no Santa!” I then asked her where all those presents came from. She quickly spun around and with hands on her hips replied, “Elves! There are elves!”

I’m sure I had a big smile on my face as I hugged her and thought, “When you want to believe something bad enough, you’ll find a way.” Several years later a great friend of ours, Peggy Hart, told me about her mother making a special Santa suit for her father. She recalled how much fun her dad had wearing his suit and making visits during Christmas season.

One day she brought it to my office. It was beautifully made of satin and there were leather boots, a nice wig and beard. She asked me if I would like to have it. I was shocked. I tried it on and it was perfect. I wore that suit many times for several years while making appearances at Christmas parties, schools, some businesses and friends and grandchildren’s house.

Their mom and I were fairly certain that the boys might figure out that it was me in that suit, so I never went into their house. I just waved to them from the street or the sidewalk. After the three boys grew past their Santa days I slowed down on my Santa duties. A few years ago I got in touch with the daughter of the late Peggy to see if she would like to have the suit, and she welcomed that idea.

​It’s my hope that “Santa” is still making good little boys and girls happy. Our grandsons are now adults. We are looking forward to some great-grandchildren someday. Yikes! It is 2019! I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and a great start to the new year.

​Shonk is a 1960 graduate of Southport High School, a ’63 grad of Indiana Central College (now the University of Indianapolis) and a retired bus driver from Beech Grove Schools.