Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 January 1950 — Page 25

ER SRL LL TES Chis HOM

This Dog Knows Where fo Go fo Get An Abundant Supply for a Good Meal

Photos and Story By LLOYD B. WALTON “OLD MOTHER HUBBARD went.to the cupboard to get her poor dog a bone’-—but if the dog had been as smart as Snooky he would have gone after the bone himself, Snooky is a 13-year-old dog of uncertain ancestry owned by Mr. and Mrs. A. F. Zainey, 605 N. LaSalle St, He has been going to the grocery at 3214 E. Michigan St. for 12 years to get bones. During ‘that time the store has changed proprietors four

been told about Snooky.

For the past three and a half years Ben and Jimmy

have taken care that the bones were ready when Snooky made

GEORGE, son of Mr. Mrs. Zatney, taught Snooky the trick which has made him the pride of the neighborhood for

& year old when George first took him to the grocery. Mare than an hour of workand coaxing was required to get Snooky to carry the first ie Tome in his mouth. the lesson was well makes

Lr f a .

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good. LSE: system, don't you think?"

three trips a day to Buchanan's Food Market. The procedure is always the same. Snooky arrives at the store within a few minutes of the proper hour every time. He lies down. on the sidewalk in front of the store. If both the storekeepers are too busy waiting on other customers to take the bone package to the door right away, the dog will stand up and look through the door glass. He just looks and wags his tail until someone gives him the bones.

Lo. WHEN THE bones are handed to him, Snooky carries them home and uses the front yard for his dining room. He drops the package on the lawn, tears at it with his paws and teeth until all the paper is removed. -

Then he stretched out comfortably, hold# the bone with his front feet and begins gnawing. Snooky has developed regular habits and some likes and dislikes. At 8:30 a. m. he usually meets the groceryman as he gets off the trolley and follows him to the store. Again at noon he will bé back for his lunchtime bone. The third trip each day is made about 5 p.m, ~ ~ ” THE bones must be wrapped or Snooky will not take them, He'll turn up his nose at anything but beef. Several times the Buchanans have tried to trick him with pork bones and lunch meat, but he just smells the package, sits down, cocks his head to one side and wags is tail. Then they give him the right package, which he promptly picks up and starts home, Rather than risk getting into a fight, Bnooky will cross to the

. other side of the street to avo

another dog. On several occasions he hap met other dogs on that side of ‘the street “too, so he cut back up the street and trotted through the alley.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 1950

Bl Adequate F

Use 55 Million Gallons a Day

By DAVID WATSON WHERE WILL Indianapolis get its water in 1960? Probably from the same sources how furnishing the city with the 55 million gallons used here daily, as far as the In. dianapolis Water Co. is concerned. Those sources are White Riv“er, Fall Creek and 62 big welis driven inside the city’ limits’ While citizens of New York City are staring into the bottom of the water barrel, offi. clals of the Indianapolis Water Co. foresee no future shortage here. The local company has never been forced to ask residents to conserve water, Only during World War II was emphasis placed on repair of bad equipt to prevent waste. 1though Indianapolis is the largest city in the nation not on navigable water, the growing demands for water have been met by the supply from the three major sources. Maintenance of large reserve stocks is partly attributed to “unconscious” conservation practiced by the consumer, according to engineers. # » ~ SINCE 1932 Indianapolis has been 100 per cent guarded with water meters. Only fire fighting lines are unchecked. Because water use costs money, consumers are likely to be watchful of waste. Juvestigators PRODI

ry es

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“metered. : tion measures were lax as a re-

sult. "Heavy Indiana rains, 30.9 inches annually, are responsible for constant water supply here in the past. Once, when rainfall measured only 30.97, the water level in the Geist Reservoir, near Oaklandon dropped five feet. That was one third the resérvoir capacity. Even then the city was not placed on an emergency status. Geist is supplied by Fall Creek and normally holds about seven billion gallons of untreated water. Some is lost when it is pumped to stations for purification, Other reserves are held in readiness in underground reservoirs at Fall Creek and 424 St, and near Victory Field on the West Side. Their contents, plus that of two elevated tanks which are about 25 million gallons. »- » rr THE RIVER supplies are supplemented by 62 wells which can provide 35 to 39 million gallons a day if needed. How~ever, they could not be operated for exiended periods. Normally, the wells are put to work when river filters are

boat

tilled nightly, if

“Water Se croiv Here Reported or Any Emergency

Phos, v %

pumps.in Riverside p

g ia combined total of Jo million soos daily

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This small "house" at the White River pumping station shelters one of the water company's shallow "gravel wells.” The wells supplement the river supply and are used only occasionally, Depth

is about 110 feet.

Geist Reservoir, which holds water backed up by a dam across Fall Creek, holds about seven billion gallons for Indianapolis use, The Oaklandon project was filled for the first time in 1943. It is the city's largest reserve “tank.”

being cleaned. The warmer well water is sometimes mixed with cold river water to prevent freezing during treatment. Some wells operated by private industry have gone § v in areas where many are drilled.

But there is no indication of a permanent drop in the underground water level. Deep wells of the company pull the liquid from a depth of 350 to 475 feet, while the shallow ones reach about 110 feet underground.

About 40 per cent of the 19 billion gallons used annually in the city goes to industrial users, 18 per cent to commercial houses, and 42 per cent to residences, The daily consumption some-

times drops to 40 million gallons and ranges up to 70 mile lion. White River furnishes about 60 per cent of the total supply and Fall Creek about 40 per .ecent,

Does Music Have A Future Here?

Julius Huehn

Wants Auditorium By HENRY BUTLER ONE STANCH advocate of an Indianapolis civic auditorium is Julius Huehn, artist teacher of voice at Jordan College of Music. The former Metropolitan Opera baritone, who will .be heard in recital at 8 p. m., Feb. 15, in World War Memorial, states his reasons emphatically. “We haven't even got a hall here for small opera productions and recitals, let alone an auditorium,” he says, As a teacher, he sees problem in terms of his dents’ careers. What the students need is opportunity for performance. With Jordan's limited facilities and with high gchool auditoriums already overworked, the community offers no adequate spot for local music and music drama.

the stu-

» » » “THE SAME thing happens all over the country,” Mr. Huehn says. “When there's no local future in music, all the good talent is drained off. The best youngsters go to New York. And the sad thing is when they get to New York, they'll find W. 57th St. crowded with other talented youngsters from other Midwestern

"cities, all looking for jobs.”

Jobs are harder and harder to find, With concert management and radio centered in New York, there are - fewer opportunities for singers than there were back in the late 1920's, when Mr. Huehn was beginning his career.

wn » . A NATIVE of Revere, Mass., Mr. Huehn grew up. in Pitts. burgh, Pa. His father, now deceased, was an engineer who, for recreation, sang tenor in various Maennerchors, Both parents were German Iimmigrants—a fact that caused the Huehn family considerable dis-. tress during World War I, when super - patriots threw stones at the Huehn home in Revere, The memory of that persecution lingered in Julius Huehn’s mind when World War II rolled around, Determined that his own ‘children should not carry similar memories, he volunteered for duty with the Marine Corps—the only leading Metropolitan singer to enter active service. His deep-pitched voice made him valuable as a ground

‘plicated ground-to-plane

dubious records of

Memories of the Metropolitan are reflected in the costume pictures of Julius Huehn, Randall Dennison and Freda Zambara, students of Mr. Huehn, look on while he explains the roles he sang as a baritone with the Metropolitan Opera Company, :

officer in the then rather comradio intercommunication controlling night fighter-planes. It involved radar, which since has begn installed in the planes themseélves. - » » BACK IN March, 1946, from two years in the Pacific theater, Mr. Huehn sang only one more opera in the Met. “Others had taken my place,” he says, with a humorous shrug. Big (6 feet 4% inches, pounds), hearty personality, Mr. Huehn speaks without malfce of an artistic environment where malice traditionally has been chronic. But ‘he deplores the impact of the war on the Met and its artists, especially the persecution of Mme, Kirsten Flagstad, Without specifying names, he intimates that far less gifted European artists with far more “eollaboration” have never drawn a peep of complaint from the highbrass of public-opiniof**manu-facturing. nn 8 THE MET. was a long step from the Casa di Campo, a Pittsburgh roadhouse; where high school student. Juliys,

against his father's wishes,

240°

played sax and sang occasional vocals with Joe Miles and his orchestra. In those roarin 20s, vocals were not yet stand ard equipment, “We'd do a kind of rhythm glee-club job on ‘Bye, Bye, Blackbird,’ and I had a specialty where 1 wore a funny hat and sang, ‘O, Katharina,’ ” Mr. Huehn recalls. One night (he was thén about 18), he sang what they all termed a “long- hair” or “classical” number, “Roses of Picardy.” A Pittsburgh music critic heard him and advised him to study voice, So father and son Huehn put-their heads together over the problém and found a singing teacher who had “Mme.” in front of. her name. ‘She must be good,” they thought. 4 But it turned out that “Mme.” wanted to sew Julius up with a 10 per cent clause. Further research, with better advice and with funds obtained from hogking . Julius’ “whole battery” of saxophones, brought him to Anne Griffiths, then a leading Pittsburgh voice teacher, . Wee “THROUGH the 1927 Atwater Kent contest, young Julius got to meet Lawrence Tibbett in

New York, The accent, from family talk, had helped Julius sing the “Evening Star” from “Tannhaeuser” convincingly. Mr. Tibbett, one of the final judges, said, “You're not going to win, but don’t worry—1I never won a contest myself, Keep on studying.” During further study in_Pittsburgh, Mr. Huehn became a staff artist on historic KDKA in the heyday of hroadcasting when local ‘talent could earn good money. He finally won a fellowship at “the Juilliard School of Music, where he was one of seven winners out of 300 students. Other Juilliarders at the time included Met singers Charles Kullman, Rise Stevens and Josephine Antoine, the lastnamed a member last year of Indiana University’s: music school faculty. Mr. Huehn's teacher at Juilliard was Anna Schoen-Rene-— “a Bismarckian sort of person,” he says, and she is, In the signed photo on his Jordan studio wall. “Even _ before she heard my voice, she said, ‘Endlich ein Wotanp'—'At last, a Wotan'” That was because the high school footballer and track team weight thrower had real Waguehian presence.

“echt deutsch”

Aims to Present

Local Talent DURING FOUR Juilliard study, Mr. learned the voice student's money plight in Depression days. Some weeks he'd get a $10 singing job in a New Jersey church. Minus $1 management fee and $1 bus-fare, he'd net $8 for living expenses. “I learned how to live for a while on wieners and orange drink," he says. A big break came in the Philadelphia Orchestra's fabulous and financially disastrous 1933-34 season of opera-—“the most amazing opera season this country has ever had.” After an audition with Fritz Reiner, Mr, Huehn sang Kurwenal in “Tristan” and the title role in “Falstaff” with the company, The late Herbert Witherspoon, for part of a séason director of the Metropolitan, heard him in “Falstaff” and promptly hired him. So Mr, Huehn called Miss Beatrice: Tatnell of New York, now his wife, and said, “I've signed a contract with the Met. Let's get married.” They did, and now’ have two children: Kirsten, 10, whose gadmother is Kirsten Flagstad, and Juliana, 3 “We planned-her to be Julius, but she turned out to be Juliana,” Mr. Huehn explains, At home, 3719 Ruckle St, the Huehns like being home bodies and get fun out of playing canasta, : FE

THE NINE years in the Met led Mr. Huehn through all the German repertoire, ' especially Wagner. He likes Richard Strauss: “Elektra,” “Salome” and “Rosenkavalier.” “After that dificult German stuff, Pue~ cini and. the like seémed so: much whipped-cream dessert,” he says. : "He heartily favors opera in English. He also would like to see less exploitive domination: by New York of the provinces in the concert. management field. It works this way: Local listeners want “The Lord's Prayer” or “The Road to Mandalay.” Instead, they hear some German lieder. They com~ plain. ‘New Forks ois offices get he

The next sont “are ordered to,

years’ Huehn