Wow! My wife, Lyn, and I have been busy. 
Our daughter, Michelle, was married to Ben Kimmerling in a beautiful outdoor ceremony June 14, during which they seemed to glow in front of family and friends. Michelle’s sons, Trevor and Trey, escorted her to the wedding and gave her away. The newlyweds spent a week in Tennessee.

There was a no-presents request made by Michelle and Ben, but our dog, Stuart, didn’t get the message. He held a meeting with the other non-humans at our house, and just before I headed out to the wedding they presented me with their offerings. The chickens, Alberta, Betty and Jackie, each presented a freshly laid egg. Guessie, the neighborhood cat, delivered a bagful of fresh catnip, and Stuart offered several of his Beggin’ Strips. I’m sure their gifts were appreciated.

Sunday was Father’s Day, and I got a phone call from my son, Mark, who was working. We are going to get together for lunch in the next couple of weeks. I also got a call from my unofficially adopted daughter, Brooke. We also planned a get-together. Michelle and Ben took Lyn and me out for a wonderful dinner. I had a great day.
While looking for something in my home office (I didn’t find it), I ran across some gifts that were given to me and other members of The Perry Township/Southport Historical Society. 

Jean Fish, one of the group’s most active members, died about 18 months ago at age 88. She enjoyed knitting small gifts and making up interesting notes to accompany them. She gave these keepsakes to society members. The one I found was a knitted cloth with the attached note: “Wishes – Wishes won’t wash the dishes – Maybe a new cloth will lighten the load for you.”

Our club, which meets six times a year, recently toured the Historic Hannah House, 3801 Madison Ave., which was once part of the Underground Railroad, a series of safe havens for runaway slaves seeking freedom in  the North. 

A few months ago the society invited members to bring in something that might have ties to their families or our geographic area. I had just received a package from Beverly (Shirk) Hopper, a former 12-year classmate of mine from Perry Township Schools. She sent me an Edgewood Grade School sweatshirt that will be donated to the society. The sweatshirt was found at a cabin that had been owned by former Edgewood Principal Paul L. Bailey.

Our special programs have included Perry Township’s Contribution to the Indianapolis 500 and Remembering Longacre Pool and Park. Each event attracted more than 300 guests.
If you would like to become a member of the society, call 789-3979.

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.

My wife, Lyn, and I have been season ticket holders of the Indiana Fever professional basketball team for several years. 

The season started a couple of weeks ago, and the Fever’s home opener allowed fans to see new head coach Stephanie White, who moved up from assistant coach after coach Lyn Dunn retired.  
White is making some changes in the team’s offensive and defensive play. A lot of the players compete in foreign leagues during the WNBA’s offseason.

White had to start the season without one of her better players, Shavonte Zellous, whose overseas team was involved in playoffs. White also missed team leader Tamika Catchings, who was sidelined with a sore knee. With those two players absent from the line-up, White didn’t get her first home win that evening.
The second home game was a different story as Zellous and Catching were available to play and helped lead their team to victory.  

During the first home game I got to scratch something off of my bucket list. Now granted I had only added this to my list a few days prior –  but that’s OK. Lyn and I had the opportunity to participate in a challenge at Bankers Life Fieldhouse to a set a Guinness World Record for the most glow sticks burning at once.  
Just before tip-off the fieldhouse lights were dimmed, and everyone who had been given a glow stick was instructed to light theirs.

Officials were positioned in each section of the building and made a count. We were later informed that our 3,712 glowing sticks smashed the previously record of 800.
At halftime I noticed former Fever player Tully Bevilaqua (2005-10) working her way down the aisle toward our seats. She played basketball from 1991 to 2012 in the United States and her home country of Australia. She now lives in Indianapolis and operates a gym.

Several years ago I ran across an online photo of her with her two dogs, one of them looks like Stuart, my therapy dog. I showed the picture to Lyn, who asked, “How does Tully know Stuart?” I had shared a picture of Stuart with Tully on Facebook.

When Tully had worked her way down to our seats, I asked her if she remembered the Facebook contact and the similarities between Chips and Stuart. She did, and we once again laughed. I’m going to take Stuart up to Tully’s Gym one of these days so the dogs can meet.

I can’t remember not listening to the Indianapolis 500 on the radio. As kids and teenagers we listened to the radio much more than any other form of entertainment. 

My folks had one of those big radios that sat on the floor, and I remember listening to my favorite shows, which included “The Lone Ranger” and “Superman.” My parents liked “The Jack Benny Show,” “Burns and Allen” and “Our Miss Brooks.” Lots of these shows were converted to television. I have seen some of those old shows on cable stations in recent weeks.

I remember listening to the race while riding with my dad on his daily pick-up milk route. We finished the route before the race was over and listened to the end of it at home. The broadcast was aired all over the world by the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Radio Network, and I thought it was so cool that all of the announcers were local fellows who we could hear every day.

E.Z. Gwynn, Sid Collins, Jim Shelton, Paul Page, Bob Jenkins and many others entertained us over the years. I always thought that if I visited the track a time or two during May and spent time looking at all of the cars and drivers, I could fully imagine A.J. Foyt and all the others screaming past the start/finish line as the announcers reported on it.

I enjoyed listening to this year’s race in my back yard with Stuart, my therapy dog.
I was excited when the Brickyard 400 was started in 1994. Two or three years ago I wrote an article about getting to tour Junior Johnson’s NASCAR facilities. For years he drove and owned race cars. During the tour I noticed a small problem with some fasteners on his cars, and I was asked to explain the issue to him. He asked me to travel to all the other race shops and explain my thoughts to them.

I pointed out that he and his employees would be seeing all of these racers that weekend and they could easily make the explanation in a couple of hours. His response was that all of the owners and teams all lied to each other so much that he wouldn’t be believed. 

I was once working with a salesperson in Houston who had several large automobile dealerships for customers. I was introduced to the parts manager and a couple of other employees, and they wanted to know where I lived. When I told them Indianapolis, one of the guys headed to the door and returned with a fellow that the parts manager was eager to introduce me to. There were standing orders to contact the owner if anyone from Indianapolis ever showed up at the building. I knew who it was before the introductions were made.

A.J. Foyt shook my hand and started asking me questions. We had a blast tossing out names to see if we had connections. Visiting with A.J. was a wonderful and totally unexpected event. 
It was great to hear him on the radio on race day this year.