When we first moved to Indianapolis about 20 years ago, looking to buy our first house, some people advised me to look in Meridian-Kessler. Others suggested downtown, saying it was up and coming. But a friend who knew me and recruited me to Indy knew I had always lived in cities before and said: “Look in Broad Ripple.”
So the first time I visited Indy, I took the bus from downtown – long before the Red Line – and spent an afternoon walking around Broad Ripple. After touring more than 40 houses in three days, we put a deposit down on a house a few blocks from Broad Ripple Avenue despite our real estate agent’s warning that the area might not, well, be coming up. We figured, well, it was a starter house, but we wound up seduced by a neighborhood that straddled the line between small town and big city. We stayed in that house more than 15 years.
Three of my colleagues – Alysa Guffey, Heather Bushman and Bradley Hohulin – just spent a month talking to people about Broad Ripple for the March 22 cover story. As the editor of the story that resulted, I encouraged them to ask their sources what people see as the greatest challenges facing the quirky neighborhood. Many people to whom they spoke staunchly defended it and expressed pride in living and or working there, a stance I completely understood.
Our house had a mural on the kitchen wall depicting many Broad Ripple staples. Over the years, we watched as many of those closed – The Patio, The Corner Wine Bar, Ben & Jerry’s. Other neighborhood favorites and not-so-favorites also shuttered – various Indian restaurants, Brugge, and the Kroger, which I not-so-lovingly nicknamed the Freddy Kroger.
Sure, there were the nights (usually Saturdays) we woke to the sound of gunshots and the time or two that one of our sharp-eyed neighbors plucked a stray bullet out of the grass or the street. There was drunken carousing and little street parking to be had on big college bar weekends and the Indianapolis Art Fair weekend. But there were also neighbors who looked out for one another and every year a block party that brought us all together. Each Halloween one of our neighbors decorated their yard and garage with a display that rivaled professional haunted houses.
And when the pandemic hit, our kids could play outside with the neighborhood kids. We could walk or bike on the Monon, and neighbors would gather on porches for touches of socialization at a time when the four of us got sick of one another. In the evening, I could walk around the neighborhood.
When we moved in, discussions roiled about the future of Broad Ripple. But when we outgrew our house, we looked in the area, even though when we mentioned we wanted to move, some friends asked whether it was because of the crime. Our cars were broken into a time or two and we did not walk around much after dark, but we were so attached to the area we spent four years house hunting until we moved all of half a mile away.
Because when it comes to finding a place to live, a place to eat, or even just a place to while away an afternoon, people still say: Look in Broad Ripple.
Shari Rudavsky is a local news editor for IndyStar.
This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: Broad Ripple is not perfect, but there’s nowhere I’d rather live
Reporting by Shari Rudavsky, Indianapolis Star / Indianapolis Star
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