National Road Magazine The Greatest Place to Live; The Greatest Time to Live Here

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Winter House Home Page Fiction by Christian Shuck Chapter Eleven August 27, 2016 The house phone rang. It was an odd, high-pitched jingle. One of several iterations of ringtones Edward Winter heard evolve over time. He watched as Terri Thomas walked across her living room floor to pick up the …

By standing up for teachers, a small brewery told Indiana’s General Assembly to “stick it.” A 6-Minute Read Editorial Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed on this web site are solely those of the original authors and other contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of National Road Magazine, the NRM staff, …

Lukas Nelson could have used his name and bypassed every small-town joint in the world.  Instead, he honed his skills in the places most of us haunt.  For that, he deserves our respect. photos by Joey Martin Terre Haute’s Verve Nightlclub sits along Wabash Avenue.  Two-and-a-half blocks to its north—in …

Of all the folks Donovan Wheeler has talked to and written about, Jennie DeVoe is the one who is a star. by Donovan Wheeler photos courtesy of Jennie DeVoe Jennie DeVoe had been on the Indy music scene for more than a decade before I heard about her.  Such is …

Winter House Home Page Fiction by Christian Shuck Chapter Ten June 3rd, 1972 The West Indiana State University campus was an easy bike ride from the McGregor’s home. Rian was glad he could use his bicycle, it was one of the things he missed most about Ireland. The concrete jungle of …

by Donovan Wheeler photos by James Ramos and Tim McLaughlin Cole Woodruff and I have one important thing in common: we both grew up a good bit away from the pavement.  The farm Woodruff grew up on sits an hour northwest of Indy.  My grandaddy’s farm, where I cut my …

Winter House Home Page Fiction by Christian Shuck Chapter Nine April 13th, 1864 “What the hell is that?!” asked Matthias, stepping back from the cloud of dust. They covered their mouths with handkerchiefs as the foul air swept out of the small cavern. Edward, his partner, waved his hand against …

In the spring of 1991, I covered the Indiana State University baseball team.  In the process I watched them record one of their greatest wins–an obscure afternoon game in Bloomington which few people remember.   A couple weeks ago, while sitting at my desk, I gazed out my window and watched …

The problem isn’t the game.  It’s the people who own the game. Editorial Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed on this web site are solely those of the original authors and other contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of National Road Magazine, the NRM staff, and/or …

There’s something about the Hotel Tango stage at the Virginia Avenue Music Fest.  Two years ago, my finacée and I stumbled upon a young Dacota Muckey, cutting his musical teeth with band, The Trip.  Last year, on yet another warm and beautiful Saturday, lightning struck again. Well, it wasn’t literally …

Like a lot of Sycamores, I’m proud of what happened in 1979.  But none of those guys are my Alma mater’s heroes. Editorial Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed on this web site are solely those of the original authors and other contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily …

I stumbled upon Dacota Muckey by accident.  Wendi*, some good friends, and I had just finished downing what seemed like a half-keg of Chilly Water’s blood orange IPA while Brother O’ Brother ripped open the Saturday leg of 2017’s Virginia Avenue Music Fest.  Warner Swopes had spent the last half hour …

Christmas ended in the span of three hours.  If it were up to me, I’d hang onto it for another five or six days—past the New Year at least.  But my fiancée, Wendi, is a “to-do” list sort of pragmatist.  Christmas was over.  All that stuff had to come down.  …