"India-no-place" No More

The subject of a joke gains major league attention

Hardly anybody writes odes to Indianapolis. No Sandburg or Gershwin has ever praised the Midwestern city's hard American beauty. No bustling metropolis, that town; no seething cauldron of culture. Instead, folks mockingly called it "India-no-place." For almost a century, it was a city lacking a distinct identity. Sure, it was the state capital and could boast about being "the crossroads of America," what with U.S. Highways 31, 36, 40, 52 and 136 and Interstate Highways 65, 69, 70 and 74 all converging there. And since 1911, the city has hosted the Indy 500, that annual race-car extravaganza, which drew special attention last week when Rick Mears thrilled 400,000 spectators by winning at a record average speed of 162.6 miles per hour. Alas, for many not enamored of highways and racing, the town remained India-no-place.

Over the past decade, however, America's 13th largest city (pop. 708,000) has been laboring to dispel its old image and prevent the depressingly familiar slide into urban decay. New businesses have moved in, aided by tax breaks and lured by the city's location near the center of the nation. A once dreary downtown area has become slick and modern. Gleaming office towers, as well as a sports arena and an expanded convention center, decorate the skyline. A street paved with red bricks winds around venerable Monument Circle, lending new stateliness to the Soldiers and Sailors Monument with its slender 284-ft. limestone shaft. Indianapolis is feeling major league, and its residents have ample reason for civic pride. "The excitement here reminds me of Atlanta in the early '70s," says Charles Blair, 36, a senior program officer for the Lilly Endowment, which gives about $20 million annually for city improvement. Says he: "Things are happening quickly, and this is the place to be. People smell the money."

Perhaps the best thing to happen to Indianapolis recently was the defection of professional football's Baltimore Colts last March. Under cover of night, Colts Owner Robert Irsay had his team's equipment piled into a convoy of moving vans (Mayflower movers of Indianapolis) for shipment to the Midwest. Baltimore has filed motions in federal court to block the sale of tickets to Indianapolis Colts games, but this has hardly curtailed the excitement of the Hoosiers over their new National Football League team. Irsay has been hailed as a hero; WELCOME COLTS signs are all over town; I LOVE THE COLTS T shirts are worn proudly by the citizenry.

The team has a 20-year lease agreement to play in the newly built, seven-acre, 61,000-seat stadium known as Hoosier Dome. The $78 million complex is in the heart of downtown Indianapolis, its white-fabric, air-supported, 257-ton roof puffed up like a huge blanket. The stadium, built with a combination of public and private funds, including multimillion-dollar endowments from foundations and a 1% tax on food and beverages, is a major reason why the Colts have come to Indianapolis, and a tribute to the foresight and business acumen of the people running the city.