The name was the first thing to draw me to Hoosier Cabinets. I mean I'm a Hoosier so what's not to like about something that bears your name? It's like a New Yorker not liking Manhattans or an Ohioan not liking buckeyes. Okay, so the sexism of the time is reprehensible, but you'll see that across every ad from about 1980 back and probably plenty of today's ads as well. Occasionally I see an old Hoosier kitchen Step Saver in an antique store. It was the technological marvel of its day. A home organizer/work station for the busy home maker complete with reminder dials to help plan shopping forays and grocery orders and built in sifting and grinding equipment to boot.
There was a time when, after a hard day's work, you'd come home to the soft glow of lamplight and a low fire burning on the hearth. You'd step inside, take off your slicker and goulashes and hang your hat on the hall tree and then make your way to the kitchen, following the scent of bread and meat - the smell of home and hearth. You'd sit down at the table and talk. Talk through the day's events, the news, and what Mrs. Brown the next door neighbor was up to. No pinging smart phones, no email from the boss, no watching TV, just you and the one you love sharing good food in the safety and warmth of your home. I know it borders on maudlin, but it's my daydream.
I tried to locate the old factory site, but it's apparently been lost to time. Jackson street doesn't even seem to exist in Newcastle Indiana any longer. Time, tide, and city planning wait for no one, I guess.
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