As Tom Ridley remembers it, going to the movies wasn’t just something to do on a Saturday night. It was the thing to do on a Saturday night.
His destination was always the Madame Walker Theatre on Indiana Avenue — one of the only Indianapolis theaters that allowed African-Americans, and undoubtedly one of the most romantic.
“Movies were 25 cents, popcorn and sodas were a dime. I’d have a dollar in my pocket, and I could take a little girl to the movies,” Ridley recalls of his teenage dating years in the 1930s. “If you had a few dollars for the weekend, you were in good shape.”
Today, Ridley, 88, works as a tour guide at the historic theater. He’ll undoubtedly be one of the first in line when the Walker returns as a 940-seat movie house and debuts FLIX, a film series showcasing independent and local films submitted by filmmakers, not studios. The series, whose first film will be announced in March, kicks off April 14. Continue reading










On Oct. 12, 2002, Haste the Day released its first EP, “That They May Know You.” On Nov. 22, 2010, the band announced its impending demise. But the Haste the Day behind last month’s “very difficult announcement,” as its website reads, wasn’t the same as the one made up of three Carmel High School kids, scraping together basement shows.
Alone in his huge, Antebellum house built in 1853 in Holly Springs, Miss., Paul MacLeod is living his vision of the American dream. He’s a 67-year-old former assembly-line worker, and it shows—his face slumps like a wet towel. He subsists on two cases of Coca-Cola a day. His wife, Serita, left him years ago, and he hasn’t seen her since. His son, too, left long ago . But MacLeod doesn’t mind living alone: He’s got Elvis Presley.