I write this at Halloween. The Trick-or-Treaters have come and gone leaving me to think of all their costumes. There were the usual super heroes. . . ..lots of Batmen and Spidermen. When I was a kid out with a pillowcase seeking treats the only super hero I remember was Superman. Does anyone remember Mighty Mouse? I look back to my youth and my real super hero was my big brother. He was the best brother in the whole world because he was eight years older than me and he took care of his "little baby sister". He protected me from all the bratty boys in the neighborhood; the ones who called me names and made fun of me and the one who beat me over the head with my doll. He was the best brother until he would steal my Halloween candy. Since he was older and big and tall he could no longer go out so when I came home with the loot he would ransack it. I gladly gave him everything with nuts and coconut. It was a good trade to have his protection from the mean kids.

Fifty years ago, Halloween night, 1963 was a horrible and tragic night in Indianapolis. The Indianapolis Star wrote about it Sunday, October 27th. Reading it brought it all back. Holiday on Ice was a big ice skating show that came to the Indiana State Fairgrounds Coliseum annually. On that fateful night, while more than 4,300 spectators watched the show, propane tanks in a storage pit under seats in the southeastern corner of the coliseum exploded. People, seats, concrete, steel and debris were propelled loosening walls and flooring which caved creating a 50 foot wide crater down to the storage pit. Spectators were hurled into the crater or flown out onto the ice. Bodies were trapped and mangled. A second explosion created a fireball as high as the rafters. Some victims were so badly burned they could not be determined as male or female. The cold ice became a morgue as bodies were covered with blankets. Seventy-four people died and many hundred were injured. The newspapers reported that it was the worst disaster in city history, possibly state history. At the time I was a sophomore at Shortridge High School. The next morning at school was terrible. Shortridge was just down the street from the Coliseum. Many of my friends had gone to the ice show and some of them were hurt, dead or had parents, grandparents or siblings that were injured or dead. Back then there were no school councilors to console us. It was terribly sad.

For this article I interviewed Harry E. Jones. Harry is a Broad Ripple High School alum, class of 1958. He was 23 years old when this explosion occurred. At the time he was a volunteer fireman with the Washington Township Fire Department at the station at 71st and Keystone. He told me that it was an all volunteer team with the exception of the fire truck drivers who were called engineers. The volunteers got the call on their radios at home and were dispatched. Harry was the 7th first responder to arrive on the scene. He was told not to go in because another explosion could happen. He weighed the options and told me that there was no way he couldn't go in. He said what he saw was worse than war. The gore was awful. When he arrived there were two fire trucks. 150 including ambulances responded in total coming from as far as Richmond and Terre Haute. They used folding tables for gurneys. Harry never had closure from that horrible experience. He went on to serve as a firefighter and became President of that station's volunteers. He helped to burn down farmhouses to clear fields to make way for Keystone at the Crossing and Castleton Mall. He later established a successful career in commercial real estate in the Chicago area. He retired and is now living in Naples, Florida. About ten years ago he heard that folks accomplished getting a memorial plaque placed at the Coliseum. He came home to see it. He needed that closure. It had been forty years. The city of Indianapolis had done nothing to honor the first responders or the victims in all that time. He told me that 9/11 had occurred and other tragedies elsewhere and those communities had paid tribute and homage. He was deeply hurt that our city ignored it as if nothing had happened. He couldn't wait to come home to see the plaque. It meant everything to him. He told me of his disappointment when he found it. And he did have to find it. It was small and hung in a corner. He said you had to hunt for it. He felt that it was not historic with details and it was too generic. He thought it should be in a prominent place and it should list names. He was saddened that this was the best our city could do and that it took 40 years to do it. Most journalists mention parties in their columns by last name. I couldn't call Harry through this column "Jones". It's too formal. I am his "little baby sister" and he is my super hero, the one I shared on that Halloween night fifty years ago. That night Harry you were a hero to many. I know this 50 year anniversary saddens you. I hope to give you and the rest of the wonderful emergency responders the recognition you so deserve. It was a horrible night that I know you made better for as many as you could. Thank you for taking good care of so many in your life. You make me smile! You are down in Florida and probably don't even know that the Coliseum is undergoing renovation. I will put it out there that I hope that the memorial plaque is resituated in a more prominent place so that all the families will get their due closure. Perhaps someone reading this has that pull.