By Fred Shonk - Published in the June 26, 2024 editon

I have a fun breakfast each month with fellows that I worked with while I was employed as a charter bus driver. I worked part-time and mostly did local assignments. For several years, I worked with NBA Basketball Teams while they were in Indianapolis to play against the Pacers.

On one such occasion during the 1991-92 season, I drove out to the airport to meet the Boston Celtics. At that time, many in the NBA believed that Larry Bird was playing his final season. This was probably the last time he would be in Indianapolis to compete against the Pacers.

After all the Celtics equipment was loaded and the players were seated, I began the trip downtown to their hotel. As we headed up the ramp to the Airport Expressway, I noticed a couple of television cameramen recording us. Within about a half-mile, we encountered a couple more guys taping us as we passed.

I smiled as I was thinking about how much attention was being given to Bird’s last game in Indianapolis. Upon our arrival at the Weston Hotel, a couple of guys met us and asked the coaches to step off of the bus while everyone else stayed seated. They talked for several minutes before an assistant coach returned to the bus and released the players and staff except for one player, but it was not Larry Bird.

I later found out that the detained player had been involved in a hit-and-run accident in the Boston area the previous evening; it was not until after the flight had departed that law enforcement had put all the pieces together.

Things become much clearer then. Those camera operators were not as much interested in Larry Bird’s last game in Indy as they were in the breaking story about the hit-and-run accident in Boston. They had followed us downtown and were setting up their cameras near the bus. Soon, that player and all of the fellows talking with him exited the bus and went inside the hotel. That was the last I heard about the incident for a few years.

One of the Celtics players was Robert “The Chief” Parish. We hit it off quickly and enjoyed chatting each time the Celtics were in town. A few years later, he became a member of the Chicago Bulls and was in the starting line-up with Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman.

On one occasion, as “The Chief” and I were talking, I asked him if he remembered that hit-and-run incident. He told me that the player had been convicted and served some time before moving to Europe to play ball.

He told me that the player was a good guy that had made a couple of bad mistakes. He also explained that the guy had learned from those mistakes and was really doing a respectable job of piecing his life back together. I do not remember that player’s name, but I will never forget the concern and passion in “The Chief’s” voice as he gave me that update.

Bird finished the season and became a member of the 1992 Olympic squad, known as “The Dream Team”. He was later named as the coach of the Pacers before becoming the president of basketball operations.
Over the years he was honored by the NBA as Most Valuable Player, Coach of the Year and Executive of the Year. He might be the only one to have received all three of those awards.

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. He can be reached through email at [email protected].

By Fred Shonk - Published in the June 19, 2024 edition

Last Sunday was Father’s Day. That day generates lots of memories for me. My wife, Lyn, and I live in the house that my parents built in 1958. There are things in the house and garage that belonged to my parents. 
My father’s toolbox is still located in our garage. I remember it from our years in business operating school buses and a repair garage. We also have a toaster in the kitchen that was a wedding present to my parents.

When I was a young boy, my father purchased a farm-to-dairy pick-up milk route. It had family advantages and disadvantages. It started incredibly early each morning, and he was finished and home by about 2 p.m. It was also a seven days a week job.

I enjoyed riding with him on weekends, during the school year and also during the summer. I learned about the lives of farm families and about the difficulties of operating your own business. I learned how the farm business could make a significant difference in his milk route business.

For several years, the only vehicle we had was the milk truck. He had to sell the car to purchase the milk truck. That was our only means of family transportation. We went shopping, plus visiting family and friends in the milk truck.

I remember dad building and installing a basketball goal on the front of our garage. I believe it was the first driveway to play basketball in our neighborhood. It had a gravel driveway, but we did not care. I have fond memories of dad’s scoop shot. We were probably both learning about basketball at the same time.

About the time that I became a teenager, dad opened our service station on Madison Avenue in Edgewood. I began learning about a much different type of business then. We were still living on Madison Avenue at that time. When the shift leader closed the station at 10 p.m., he would bring all the money from the cash register to our house. The next morning, he would stop and pick up that bag of money and open the station at 6 a.m.

We still have that old medal black pot that dad would place the bag of money in each evening. The pot had a lid and as I think about it, a stranger would never think to look into that old black pot if they were looking for a bag of money. He also was aware of the time that that shift manager arrived at our house to pick up the cash. We knew the money was safe and the business opened in a timely manner.

When we started building our school bus fleet, I again started learning so much more about operating a business. I was soon involved in the day-to-day operation of our garage and the school bus business.

I quickly learned about interviewing, hiring, and dismissing employees. I engaged in the training of new school bus drivers. I had my own school bus route and had to learn quickly how to gain the respect of the students on my bus. My father was always there to support me.

I remember going fishing with him several times. A few of those trips were probably for the quiet discussions that happened while fishing than the need to bring home some nice bluegills.

I miss my dad and I now also am missing my son, Mark. We lost him a couple of years ago. I have many father / son thoughts both as a son and a father.

I hope all you guys had a special Father’s Day!

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. He can be reached through email at [email protected].

By Fred Shonk - Published in the June 12, 2024 edition

Back in the middle seventies, we lived in the Greenwood area. I was employed by a national company that sold industrial maintenance supplies. I participated in training new outside sales agents. I was in-line to become a district sales manager which would probably involve moving to another state.

We had new neighbors move in next door to us. We quickly met our new neighbors and discovered that they had a son our son Mark’s age, and the father was a Greenwood Police Officer. The boys quickly became friends, and they started the first grade together.

A year later, we were transferred to western Michigan. My son, Mark, finished his schooling, including college in Michigan.

After I returned to Indianapolis in the late eighties, I found out that my former neighbor had become the Greenwood Police Chief and after that was elected mayor of Greenwood.

A few years ago, I was talking with one of my former high school classmates and discovered that she had grown up in the Greenwood area and we were both friends of the former police chief and mayor, Charlie Henderson. We began discussing the possibility of the three of us getting together for lunch.

On May 13th, I received a telephone call from my former classmate, Judy Tout-Snyder. She had called to inform me that Charlie Henderson had passed away that morning. I was incredibly surprised, and we quickly began talking about how we never had the opportunity for the three of us to get together.

I visited the funeral home during the visitation period. I was glad to reconnect with his son, Chip. He had to be pointed out to me because I had not seen him since he was in the first grade.

I had the opportunity to share this story with Chip. I was training a new sales agent here in Indianapolis. We were calling on automobile dealerships. We were working in the near north Meridian area. As lunch time was approaching, I told him about Talbott Street and my friend that started the Black Curtain Dinner Theater.

We drove over to Talbott Street and picked out a restaurant to enjoy lunch. During lunch, I would take time to review our morning sales calls and make recommendations. As we were eating, I was looking around the restaurant and I thought I recognized my neighbor, Charlie Henderson. He did not seem to look like Charlie with the way he was dressed and shaving style.

I looked over that way a few times and finally decided that it could not be Charlie. We finished our lunch and headed back to work. I had almost forgotten about our visit to that restaurant in Talbott Village when a few days later, I heard a very loud knocking on our front door. It was our neighbor, Charlie Henderson. He quickly explained how I had almost frightened him to death.

He had been working under-cover for the Indianapolis Police Department, He explained how the different departments trade under-cover officers to help from the agent being recognized while out in the field.
He explained that he was incredibly surprised to see me and so relieved when we exited the restaurant without walking over and saying, “Hi, Charlie.”

I told Chip this story and we both laughed. He told me that he has a few of his dad’s fake IDs. 
It was a sad time to reconnect with Chip. I hope that we can get together again one of these days and share some more stories.

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. He can be reached through email at [email protected].

By Fred Shonk - Published June 5, 2024

Sometimes when I am driving on Sherman Drive between Southport Road and Stop 11 Road, I often think of a family that resided in that area in the 1960s. Bob Cook and his family operated a farm, and he also had a school bus that he contracted to Perry Township Schools. He and my father were good friends and we provided maintenance on his school bus.

During those years, my dad and I were leasing the building that is now known as Long’s Bakery. That building allowed us to work on four automobiles and a couple of school buses at one time. We also had a couple of gasoline pumps located at the front of the building.

One afternoon, Mr. Cook parked his bus along the street on the opposite side from our business. He walked over to our business to visit with my dad and our co-worker, George Frye before heading off to run his afternoon routes. 

I was in the office catching up on some paperwork when Bob walked past the windows that separated the office and work areas. Soon, I heard loud talking and laughing coming from the rear of the building.

I had been waiting for the right opportunity to have some fun with Bob, and this was the day.

The lady that lived in the house that Bob had parked his bus in front of was not pleased when she could not see anything outside her front windows but a big yellow bus.

She had explained that to us several times and I had observed her explaining that to Bob on a couple of occasions.

I had been working on a plan for several weeks. We had two separate telephone lines in our building. My plan was to call the main telephone number with the other phone. I would explain in an altered voice that I needed to speak to Mr. Robert Cook.

When Bob answered the call, I would introduce myself as a dispatcher for the Marion County Sheriff’s Department. I told him that I had received a telephone call from a nice lady who explained that his bus was improperly parked on Union Street.

At that time, Southport Road was known as Union Street within the city limits of Southport.

I enlightened Mr. Cook, that I was giving him a break by calling and asking him to move his bus. If he did not comply, I would be required to dispatch a deputy to resolve the problem.

At that point, he slammed the phone down and started yelling some very colorful words as he stormed toward the front door. It was quite easy to see that he was excited and also a bit upset.

I was frantically trying to hang up the phone and look innocent, but it did not work. I was laughing way too hard. Bob was not sure how I had messed with him, but he knew that I had been involved.

It took several minutes to explain and get everyone to understand what had just happened because we were all laughing so hard.

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. He can be reached through email at [email protected].