Historic Fall Creek, Pendleton Settlement

10/16/2026

The Lewark House: A Home Behind the Horses
30/130 South Broadway, Pendleton, Indiana

If you were walking along South Broadway in Pendleton 140 years ago, you might have heard the clatter of horseshoes, the creaking of wagon wheels, and an occasional whinny coming from John Lewark's livery stable. Just behind the business stood the Lewark family home, a house whose history stretches back to the days when Broadway wasn't even called Broadway. Back then, it was known as Line Street.

John Westfield Lewark was born in Anderson in 1842. His mother died when he was seven, and his childhood was anything but pleasant. Sent to live with a guardian in Wabash, Indiana, he endured years of hard work and little schooling. On Christmas Day in 1856, at just fourteen years old, he'd had enough and ran away.

By 1858, he had made his way to Pendleton, working as a farmhand and eventually learning the carpenter's trade. When the Civil War erupted, he traded his tools for a r***e, enlisting in Company D of the 34th Indiana Infantry in September 1861. He served more than four years, including during the siege of Vicksburg, before returning home in November 1865.

In 1868, Lewark married Emily Shattuck, a Philadelphia-born schoolteacher who had arrived in Pendleton two years earlier. Together they raised six children: Anna, Clara, Amy, Mina, Edith, and Clarence.

In February 1872, John entered the livery business, beginning an enterprise that would become a Pendleton fixture for more than forty years. His establishment stood near the railroad at State Street and Broadway, with the family residence just behind the commercial property. The neighborhood was a busy one, with trains passing nearby and a steady stream of horses and wagons coming and going.

An 1882 newspaper reported that an A. W. Lewark was building an addition to his home on Linn Street. I suspect the initials were a printing error for J. W. Lewark, particularly because another newspaper explicitly reported that John was repainting and improving his residence on that same street. If we're looking at the same house, the Lewark residence was already standing by 1882, and probably considerably earlier.

John wasn't one to confine himself to horses and harnesses. In July 1879, following the resignation of Pendleton's marshal, he was elected to fill the vacancy.

By 1903, Lewark had constructed an impressive new brick livery stable. A newspaper account praised the establishment, which could accommodate approximately 100 horses and offered boarding by the day, week, or even by the meal.

John occasionally found himself in situations that had nothing to do with horses. In 1912, while standing near the State Street railroad crossing watching an automobile, he was struck by a moving freight car. Fortunately, the impact knocked him away from the tracks rather than underneath the train. He escaped without serious injury.

Times were changing, and horses were gradually giving way to automobiles. In December 1913, after more than forty years in business, Lewark retired and leased his livery to Daniel Holder and Alonzo Carmichael. His horses, buggies, harnesses, and other equipment were offered at public auction.

The following year, a new operator, Arthur New, began converting horse stalls into automobile storage and introduced taxi service. He gave the business the wonderfully appropriate name “Hotel DeHoss with Taxi Service.”

Unfortunately, disaster struck in September 1919 when a gasoline engine ignited a fire that destroyed the rear portion of the livery barn. The horses and buggies were saved, but a truck was destroyed, and damaged overhead wires knocked eighty-one telephones out of service.

Life continued at the Lewark home. Emily died in 1907, and in 1910 John married Mary Robins of Anderson. The 1920 census confirms that he owned his residence on South Broadway.

John Lewark died at home on March 20, 1922, at the age of 79. His passing came just three days after the death of his longtime friend and fellow Civil War veteran William R. Teague. The two men had enlisted together, served in the same regiment, joined the Masonic lodge on the same day, and remained close friends throughout their lives.

Today, the Lewark family residence is gone, replaced by a ranch-style home built in 1983. The precise date of the original house's demolition remains unknown. Remarkably, the old livery building survives, having traded its horses and buggies for fire engines as Pendleton's present-day fire station.

The horses are gone, the Lewark house is gone, and Line Street has become South Broadway. But the old livery is still standing, having found itself a continuing career in public service. I'm betting John Lewark, who once served as Pendleton's town marshal, would have gotten quite a kick out of that.

10/15/2026

Digging down on State Street. Hello POSTON.👋

See comments for more on POSTON brick.

10/14/2026

10/14/2026

Pendleton’s history has reached a new audience. The acclaimed "History of Murder" podcast has just released "Murder on the Indiana Frontier: The Fall Creek Massacre."

Executive producers Claire O’Donohue and Margaret Smith visited Pendleton this past August and returned in early October to research the story. They met with us, several members of the Pendleton Historical Museum, Dr. David Murphy, and local property owners, gathering insights that helped them produce an outstanding account of this pivotal event.

You can watch or listen by following the link below.

Thank you, Claire and Maggie, for bringing such care and attention to a tragic chapter in our town’s early history, one that still challenges us to consider what justice means and whose lives it protects.

Explore The History of Murder, a podcast that investigates long-forgotten crimes through expert interviews and dramatic retellings.

10/11/2026

131 N. Pendleton Avenue — The Doctor Is In!

All houses and their residents have interesting histories. The beautiful Italianate home at 131 N. Pendleton Avenue, dating to approximately 1875 has a noteworthy one to share.

It begins with Dr. Ward Cook, a pioneer Madison County physician who practiced medicine for nearly six decades before his death in 1890. Apparently, medicine ran in the family.

His son John W. Cook, born in Pendleton in 1852, graduated from medical college in Louisville in 1879. Another son, Ossian, became a physician, while son William Ward Cook pursued law.
Three sons, two doctors, and a lawyer. Family gatherings must have been interesting.

John was also quite an eligible bachelor. One newspaper described his complexion as somewhere between blonde and brunette and predicted he would rise in the world, even if he needed a stepladder! The writer also hoped some lovely lady would finally capture him. Eventually, Sarah Skillen did just that.

Now, here's something interesting about the house itself. On the northeast side of the home is a side-door entrance that once served as the entrance to Dr. Cook's medical office. Patients could enter there rather than through the family's main entrance.

Being a doctor in those days meant knowing a little bit about everything. Today, we have the luxury of visiting a different specialist for practically every ache, pain, and ailment. But in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the family doctor was expected to handle whatever came through the door, from a common cold to a complicated surgery. And judging by Dr. Cook's patients, just about everything did!

In 1901, Cook removed the elongated uvula of a Green Township man who suffered from a persistent cough. He also removed a growing facial tumor from a young boy. In 1906, Chester Garrettson was accidentally peppered with sh***un pellets by a hunting partner while rabbit hunting. Cook reportedly spent two hours removing shot from the unfortunate fellow. Chester probably reconsidered his choice of friends after that.

In those days, a physician also made house calls. Cook maintained three driving horses and a buggy, ready for whatever emergency arose. No ambulance, no appointment app, and certainly no calling in sick because the roads were bad.

The Cooks weren't exactly homebodies, either. In 1900, John and Sarah traveled through Europe, visiting hospitals, attending the Paris Exposition, and taking in the famous Passion Play in Germany.

Sarah deserves a chapter of her own. In 1909, she and Mary Ida Parson helped organize Pendleton's first circulating library at Tanke's Drug Store. Starting with just 18 books, their efforts eventually helped bring Andrew Carnegie's $8,000 contribution and Pendleton's public library, which opened in 1912.

Unfortunately, Dr. Cook's devotion to his patients took a toll. Exhausted by his work during the influenza epidemic, he suffered declining health and a stroke in 1920. He died January 1, 1921, at age 68. The newspapers remembered a doctor whose kindness was as valuable as his medicine. Later that year, Dr. Francis C. Guthrie purchased Cook's residence and office and continued the medical tradition.

Sarah died in Indianapolis in 1947. Both are buried at Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis.

Today, that old side entrance offers a wonderful reminder of a time when the family doctor lived just a few steps from his patients.

Next time you pass 131 N. Pendleton Avenue, take another look. You're passing more than a beautiful old house. You're passing a little piece of Pendleton's medical history.

Cheers to Pendleton and the stories behind its front doors....and occasionally its side doors!

Note: If anyone has a photo of John or Sarah Cook please post it in the reply section.

10/09/2026

131 N. Pendleton Avenue — A Little History and a Plea for Preservation

I started out writing a story about the original residents of this beautiful old home at 131 N. Pendleton Avenue. And believe me, there's a wonderful story to tell. But while walking through Pendleton yesterday, I noticed a couple of rather disheartening alterations being made to historic properties.

So, the history lesson will have to wait. Today, I think it's time to be a little blunt.

Of the more than 500 properties within Pendleton's Historic District, only six have been classified as Outstanding historic structures. This beautiful Italianate home, dating to approximately 1875, is one of them.

Unfortunately, not all of our historic buildings are receiving the same consideration.

It saddens us to see original architectural features being removed, covered up, or replaced with materials that have little regard for the age or character of a building. Every time that happens, we lose a little more of what makes Pendleton special.

This is a sincere plea to homeowners, realtors, contractors, and anyone involved in buying, selling, or renovating historic properties. Please take a little time to understand what you're working with before making irreversible changes.

We certainly understand that older homes need repairs, maintenance, and modernization. Nobody expects anyone to live in 1875. But there's a big difference between improving a historic home and stripping away the very details that make it historic.

Vinyl siding isn't the only answer. There are attractive, durable alternatives, including traditional wood siding and historically appropriate fiber-cement products, that can breathe new life into an old house without making it look like it was built last Tuesday. And sometimes the best material is the one that's already there, hiding beneath a few layers of paint.

Historic Fall Creek, Pendleton Settlement is here to help. We're not interested in telling people what they can or cannot do with their property. We'd simply welcome the opportunity to offer advice, share resources, and help find solutions that respect both the homeowner's needs and the building's history.

Our historic homes aren't just individual pieces of real estate. Together, they tell the story of Pendleton. The porches, windows, decorative trim, original siding, and architectural details are part of the character that makes people want to live here in the first place.

We spend a great deal of time celebrating Pendleton's past. It would be a shame if, while we're busy celebrating it, we quietly allowed the physical evidence of that past to disappear. We inherited something special. Let's make sure there's something left for the next generation to inherit.

And as for the fascinating people who once called 131 N. Pendleton Avenue home? We'll get back to them. Their story deserves a post of its own.

10/06/2026

A discovery and a call for help. Just uncovered this old photo of Pendleton. A postcard and clearly from the 1930's. Possible State Road 67 before modernization. We have learned that there was a big curve that was eventually straightened. Who has seen this before and who can teach us something? The original is b/w and we also colorized it to bring it to life.

HELP!

10/05/2026

At first glance, 216 S. Adams looks like a handsome early Pendleton home with one really good porch. Then we did what we do best, DIG.

The house sits in Hardin and Slack’s Addition and appears to date to the early 1900s. Architecturally, it has that comfortable bungalow-era look, but the porch is what really sets it apart. The square supports are ornamental cast-concrete piers, with molded decorative panels and heavily textured lower sections. The porch wall uses decorative concrete balustrade blocks. It is the kind of detail you notice once, then keep looking at.

By 1914, Essie Vernon Woolman was living in what the newspapers called “West Pendleton,” where she would often entertain local country club members at her home. We cannot yet prove that house was 216 S. Adams (although we think it was), but by 1938 we know for certain that Essie, then Essie Lennen, owned this property.

Essie had already lived a full life by then. Her first husband, Isaac Woolman, died of consumption in 1904. In 1921 she married Jonathan Clifford Lennen and moved briefly to Indianapolis. He died the next year of general peritonitis. By the late 1920s, Essie was back home in Pendleton.

And then there was Fred Glenn Pettigrew. Fred seems to have had trouble follow him around. His name turns up over and over in the newspapers, divorce cases, money problems, assault charges, a rather brutal street fight in Pendleton, and enough court appearances to keep the reporters busy. He had been a farmer, a soldier, and later worked at the state reformatory.

In 1938, Fred was living in what the newspaper called an apartment at 216 S. Adams, owned by Essie Lennen. He was found dead in the kitchen with gas escaping from a stove. The coroner ruled the death a su***de.

The present owner tells us there is no apartment in the house today and no gas stove, so that part of the house’s story has completely disappeared.

That is what makes these old Pendleton houses interesting. The porch is still there. The concrete work is still there. But behind all of that is a story nobody would ever guess just by walking past. We just love our town and love it's never ending stories.

10/02/2026

There’s a house at 123 S. Broadway that has been giving us fits.
For years, the county has carried a 1931 build date for the house. Based on it's looks we weren't prepared to argue until the old records started arguing back.

A 1908 Sanborn map shows a frame house on the site, then numbered 23 S. Broadway. By the 1910 census, the address appears as 123 S. Broadway, with Robert and Malinda Watkins living there. Then comes another familiar Pendleton name.
In the 1920 census, Charles L. Collingwood and his wife Iva are living at 123 S. Broadway.

Collingwood was no ordinary Pendleton resident. He was part of Collingwood Brothers Lumber Company, one of Pendleton’s most important building-supply businesses. Charles and his brother Dan dealt in lumber, builders’ hardware, paints, varnishes and other materials used throughout town. One newspaper article boasted that nearly every house in Pendleton had been built with materials from the Collingwood concern.

Charles also served as mayor of Pendleton. In 1926, a newspaper article about the town’s Fourth of July celebration specifically identified “Mayor Collingwood” as the man heading the planning effort.

In 1928, the Sanborn map still shows a frame house at 123 S. Broadway. Then enter Lorenzo and Myrtle Day.
Lorenzo E. Day was born in 1896, graduated from Lapel High School in 1915, and entered the U.S. Army in 1917. He served in France during World War I and later newspaper accounts credited him with a Purple Heart and a Presidential Citation for wounds received in action. He married Myrtle M. Harless in 1918. By the 1930 census, Lorenzo and Myrtle were living at 123 S. Broadway.

Then, in August 1931, the Times-Post Newspaper reported that:
“Work is progressing rapidly on the new home of Mr. and Mrs. Lorenzo Day on S. Broadway.” The writer added that the completed home would be one of the “pretty, modern and attractive homes in our city.”

This is where the mystery begins.
If a house stood there in 1908, 1910, 1920, 1928 and 1930, what exactly was “new” in 1931?

The present owner has supplied one fascinating clue: wood siding still exists beneath the mortar-like exterior seen today.
That raises the possibility that Lorenzo and Myrtle did not completely tear down the old frame house. Instead, they may have rebuilt, enlarged and modernized it so extensively that the newspaper quite reasonably called it a new home.

Lorenzo went on to become one of Pendleton’s familiar faces. He worked for the Pendleton Post Office for 39 years, served as a deputy assessor, was active in civic and veterans organizations, and during World War II served locally in civilian defense.

So is 123 S. Broadway a 1931 house? Or is it a much older frame house wearing a 1931 makeover? For now, we'll call it the Collingwood-Day house a home with deep Pendleton roots and just enough mystery left in the walls to keep things interesting.

10/01/2026

Searching for clues and a start to the research on the following property led us to an old 1901 Madison County plat map
Let's learn about the house at 6800 W. area of Fall Creek Drive.

On a 1901 plat of this part of Madison County, the name “Chas. & M. Pettigrew” appears on the property. That immediately caught our attention, because the Victorian styled farm house itself appears to date to about 1898. So now we have a name, a place and a time period that fit together very nicely.

This was the Pettigrew home. Charles E. Pettigrew was born in 1870 and was part of a family already well established around Pendleton and Fall Creek. At the turn of the century, this entire stretch southwest of town was farm country, and the Pettigrews were right in the middle of it.

Their story gets even more interesting when we look a little farther west. A large nearby property known as Junction Farm became one of the better-known farms along Fall Creek. To be clear, Junction Farm was not the property at 6811 W. Fall Creek. It was a bit farther east/northeast, but the Pettigrews were connected to that farm as well, which helps us better understand the world surrounding this house.

Junction Farm had deep roots. Richard Tyner entered an 80-acre tract there in 1822, and by the late 1800s the property had developed into a substantial livestock operation with large barns and plenty of activity. As often happens when you start digging into these old stories, the newspaper gives us something you would never find on a plat map.

In 1902, one of the large barns at Junction Farm collapsed. A James Van Hoy was killed in the accident, while James R. Pettigrew escaped. Eight years later, the 1910 census places Charles Pettigrew at Junction Farm.

We are still working to determine exactly how all of these Pettigrew connections fit together, but one thing is clear: this family was deeply rooted in the Fall Creek farming community during the very years this house was new.

Junction Farm eventually disappeared as a private farm. In 1922, the State of Indiana purchased roughly 420 acres of the property for use in connection with the Indiana Reformatory. But the Pettigrew house survived.

Today, 6811 W. Fall Creek can easily look like just another old house along a peaceful road. But in 1901, this was countryside. Farms were identified by family names, not street numbers, and those names were printed right across the plat map. One of those names was Pettigrew. More than 125 years later, their house is still there.