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rebel musings

So this past Tuesday evening my friend Adam and I packed ourselves into his 
Honda and took off to the Hoosier heartland.  After a three plus hour drive, 
too much Bryan Adams on the radio, a little rain, good conversation, and 
much fun with the idea of John Mellencamp dancing in a field of yellow 
flowers - we arrived in Marion.  I didn't realize how close we would be to 
all of you good Ball STate and Taylor U folks.  We were two strapping young 
men with new cameras (I just bought a Canon EOS Rebel G and Adam just bought 
a Pentax ZX=30) and a mission!  We checked into the Days Inn, made a quick 
trip to Wal-Mart and then drove to the square in Marion to take a few 
pictures.  We both wanted to test the night functions on our cameras.  
Turned out pretty swell.

Went back to the motel, slept - or tried to, woke up, made ourselves 
presentable (to whom...?) and started our mission.  Thing is, we're both 
mondo James Dean fans and neither of us have ever been to Fairmount.  (Which 
is a shame since I'm a Hoosier and have visited my aunt Imogene in Portland 
often.)

WE started out by searching out the site of James Dean's birth.  This was 
the saddest part of the day.  I knew the apartment building was no longer 
standing, but was not prepared to see it memoralized by the parking lot for 
a Good-frikkin-year tire store.  There was a small stone with mention of JD 
- a stone he had to share with some Mr. Marion whose name was also on the 
rock.  That and a small star on the sidewalk.  I was appalled.  I actually 
yelled at the town for their...what do ya call it?...failure to memorialize 
the birthplace of a legend, for Pete's sake!

Fairmount, however, was lovely.  First impression - it is the ultimate 
hometown.  They have taken great care to avoid anything that comes close to 
'corporate' or 'chain'.  No McDonalds, no Wal-Mart.  Everything's homegrown. 
  Very cool.  The second impression was that there is a great deal of 
dignity surrounding the life of James Dean in the town.  There is a 
beautiful victorian home that houses the James Dean gallery (very awesome), 
a small memorial park downtown with a few benches and a bust of Dean, a 
Fairmount historical museum that centers mostly on Dean, and a small 
James-Dean-photograph-border along the wall of the Legends diner (itself a 
wonderful small-town eatery.)  Fairmount High School (significant part of 
Dean history) is closed and soon to be remodeled as a library/community 
center/museum.  The Freinds church Dean attended as a child and where his 
memorial service was held is still in use.  (I had no idea there were so 
many Friends churches in that part of Indiana.)  The huge bank downtown that 
figures prominently in a Dennis Stock photograph is still standing.  Adam 
and I tried to recreate the photo of JD walking in front of the bank - to 
miserable failure.

I was amazed at the simple dignity surrounding James Dean's grave.  Flanked 
on one side by his uncle and aunt - Ortense & Marcus Winslow -  and on the 
other by his father and stepmother, his is a modest grave stone that says 
simply "James B. Dean 1931-1955".  There are a few notes, rocks, and 
cigarette packs left by a few admirers - along with lipstick kisses on the 
rock itself - but the grave site is blissfully free of the Nash-Vegas kind 
of kitschy commercialism one might expect.

The biggest chunk of our time was spent on the Winslow farm where Dean lived 
as a boy.  It is a beautiful home on a beautiful farm with no indication 
that it was the boyhood home of a major legend.  We took lots of pictures 
around the farm and marvelled that we were walking on the very soil...well, 
you know.  We had a great time looking at the Stock photos, looking at the 
farm, saying "this was taken from over there...he was standing at the edge 
of the driveway there...that chimney is still there..."  Absolutely amazing 
stunning chilling significant...

Anyway, I now have lots of cool black and white pictures from Fairmount (and 
Marion), a hatful of great memories, a deeper appreciation for a man-boy for 
whom I've always shared a strange affinity, and absolutely NO idea why I 
spent all this time and cluttered up all your inboxes to tell you all of 
this.  It was just a great trip.  I felt compelled to write about it.  And I 
thought someone might be interested.  (You Ball State/ Taylor U folks MUST 
spend a day in Fairmount.)

All has been said...

Kelvin (Rebel without a clue)

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