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(10/06/06 4:35am)
Voter registration ends Oct. 10, and election officials in Monroe County hope people aren't waiting until the last minute to sign up.\n"Usually we get quite a few at the end from groups who didn't know when the deadline to register to vote is," election supervisor for Monroe County Jessica White said. \nWhite said it is important for people to register to vote as soon as possible to avoid a backup, especially if they are planning on voting by absentee ballot, as many college students do. \nThe last day for registered voters to apply for absentee ballots varies from state to state. In Indiana, the ballot application is due Monday, Oct. 30 at midnight. \nSeveral IU groups have been assisting in the voter registration process. \nThe IU College Democrats have been tabling for the last month at the Indiana Memorial Union, making sure everybody who stops by their location is registered to vote. \n"We're not trying to tell you who to vote for. We're just telling you to vote," said Brian Clampitt, the communications director of the College Democrats. Clampitt said the group was also educating students about their ability to vote early.\n"A lot of students don't know about early voting," Clampitt said. \nEarly voting is similar to absentee voting, except registered voters can cast their ballots in person without having to offer a reason for why they cannot vote on Election Day, Nov. 7. Indiana is one of 23 states that offer early voting.\nEarly voting in Monroe County starts Oct. 10, from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. and runs until Nov. 6 at noon. People can vote at the Monroe County Clerk's Office Annex in the Curry Building located on Seventh Street, right behind the Monroe County Justice Building.\nStudents need to know that if they register at the last minute, they will not immediately be able to vote.\n"The new system is slower," White said, "so you are pending for seven days before you are able to vote." If someone registers Oct. 10, they cannot actually vote until Oct. 17. \nClampitt cautioned that people who voted for a previous election in a different district need to re-register if they want to vote in Monroe County's district.\nLast week, the offices of the Dean of Students and Vice President for Student Affairs wrapped up their final day of "Voter Registration Week," registering people at eight different locations around campus.\nFor information regarding voter registration and absentee ballot deadlines in other states, visit www.vote-smart.org.
(10/05/06 7:52pm)
We see the Bloomington shuttle in the distance, stopping just a block away in front of Kilroy's Sports Bar. The girl in front of me picks up speed, her purse slapping against her thigh as she begins to do more than just the power-walk. I suddenly realize that when trying to catch a ride on the drunk bus, running and making a fool of yourself is totally acceptable.\nIt's a mad dash up North Walnut Street, swerving through groups of half-drunken people holding onto slices of Rockit's pizza or just each other.\n"Catching the drunk bus?" someone crows with laughter as we fly by them. I hope Tyler, Weekend's photographer, is still behind me.\nJust as we get within a few feet of the shuttle, its doors shut. \n"Hey, wait! Stop!" yells the guy at the front of our running group as he jumps into the street and waves his arms wildly at the vehicle, which begins to drive away. Defeated, he takes his girlfriend's arm, and they retreat to the parking garage.\n"We may not be getting a ride on the drunk bus tonight," I gasp as we watch the white, bulky shuttle chug off into the distance.\nThis evening has begun with a simple enough premise. After rumblings on campus and in the newspaper about the usefulness of the Midnight Special system, known more commonly as the "drunk bus," the Weekend staff decided we needed to check out the phenomenon ourselves.\nEnter me, and Weekend's trusty photographer, Tyler. We'd catch a shuttle a little before 2 a.m. and ride around until the end of the night, which ends at about 4 a.m. Along the way, we'd planned to meet some new friends and maybe have a drunken philosophical conversation or two. Couldn't be easier, right? Wrong.\nSo we've already been standing at the Indiana Memorial Union bus shelter for roughly half an hour, watching the headlights on 7th Street approach in the hopes that one of them is a shuttle. This is where the drunk bus supposedly starts its route, according to the campus bus Web site, and it should stop by every 20 minutes. The drunk bus, of course, is actually three or four of the Bloomington shuttle buses that normally drive back and forth from the airport.\nNoting the frosty air Tyler is expelling from his mouth, I begin to regret my decision to wear flip-flops and a short-sleeved shirt with a non-wind-resistant shrug. It's far too cold for this. \n"Where are you guys going?" an over-friendly brunette asks, walking crookedly with her boyfriend supporting her.\n"We're catching the drunk bus," I say, hoping they are as well.\n"Wow, that's awesome, a drug bust?" the boyfriend asks, his eyes huge as he checks out Tyler's expensive photography equipment.\n"No, the drunk bus," I repeat. Laughing, they wish us well and stumble off into the night. \nThis whole riding-the-drunk-bus thing is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought.\nWe drive over to Kirkwood Avenue and park, following the vague instructions listed on the Web site that say the drunk bus stops on Jordan, Kirkwood, Walnut and Third streets.\nThe question: Where is it?\nTwo shuttle chases later, I'm beginning to feel like I need some alcohol myself. Or, at the very least, a dowsing rod that senses large, moving groups of alcohol-soaked students.\nAt least I think we are getting some entertainment for our wasted time, as the police outside Sports slam a drunk in a pale green T-shirt against the side of their vehicle.\n"I can't feel my thumb!" the guy screams as two officers hold him down.\nA blonde girl on crutches, her entire leg in a flexible cast, hops by us, obviously not deterred from her night out by a measly little broken bone.\n"Settle down, settle down," a guy tells his girlfriend as she slips off of the sidewalk into the street while he watches the police with a wary eye.\nMore people head toward the parking garage and their cars, some unable to walk straight. I suppress the urge to suggest to the inebriated that they should be calling a cab or waiting for the drunk bus with us.\nMunching on a slice of pizza, senior Katherine Tabaka stops to chat with us as the drunk in handcuffs is put into the back of a police cruiser. The red and blue lights flashing from the four police cars across from us cast a weird pulsing glow over the street -- in time to the beat of the music pouring out of Sports.\nMaybe our problem is that we aren't drunk, I think, as Tabaka explains that the drunk bus always seems to magically appear when required. \n"Whenever I need it, it just seems to come there," she laughs. "I don't think they have schedules."\n"To be honest, if you just get on the bus and tell them where you want to go, they'll just take you there," her friend adds, wrapping his arms around Katherine to keep her warm.\nWell, we're getting somewhere in our quest for the drunk bus. So far, we've figured out that it passes along four major roads, usually stops in front of large bars like Kilroy's, and sometimes takes you exactly where you need to go. Maybe.\n"One random time it dropped me off at Steak n Shake," Katherine says, biting into the crust of her pizza. \nI really need that dowsing rod right about now.\nWe outlast the drunks in our wait for the Bloomington shuttle, but when the last three shuffle away in defeat, we know that our hunt for the drunk bus has to continue somewhere else. Like back on Kirkwood.\nIt's 3 a.m., and the night is getting surreal.\n"Five-foot tall is an average height," an extremely short guy screams across the street from us, obviously upset by his diminutive stature.\nLaughing with some other less drunken people in front of the Monroe County Public Library, we run into my bus buddy, senior Joie Meffert, who befriended me last month on a city bus ride home one day.\n"What are you guys doing tonight?" Joie asks, standing to give me a massive hug. I tell her I'm looking for the drunk bus. \n"I love riding the drunk bus," her friend Matthew Harmeyer says, making loud, slurpy kissing noises. "Big, sweetie kisses for the drunk bus."\nAfter a short conversation, Meffert, Harmeyer and their friends decide that the drunk bus, while loved, is kind of "random on purpose." I am so not convinced.\nStopping in front of the hot dog stand, I try to engage one of the men working there in a conversation about the drunk bus.\n"It starts off regular, but its been dealing with drunks all night, so it's random as heck," the hot dog guy outside of Kilroy's, Matt Berry, says, pointing out that the drivers of these shuttles are "pretty hip cats" to do this job.\n"They try to do the most good they can for the budget that they can," Berry says, his eyes googly through his thick glasses.\nFinally, we hit pay dirt. After 3:30 a.m., one of the shuttles pulls up in front of Peoples Park into a handicapped space. The crowd starts running toward it.\nI follow, my pad and paper clenched tightly in hand as I cross the street, ignoring the cars driving by in my attempt to get on the bus.\nAt the doorway, I stop and look back at Tyler, who is trying to take some photos, and beyond him into the dark where my car is parked. \nSuddenly, I realize that it's too late to catch this ride. \nThe bus driver kindly informs me that this is the last pass by Kirkwood tonight, and, deflated, I step aside and let the other eager patrons board.\nWe'd found the drunk bus, and our long and arduous search, which had taken almost two hours, was over. It hadn't required a dowsing rod, just a bit of luck and some high school track skills. Yet I feel like I've lost the race. \nI return to the hot dog stand, resting my arm gingerly along the plastic countertop.\n"There might be one more along tonight," Berry tells me as he slops chili sauce and onions on one of the dogs.\nI need a drink.
(10/05/06 4:00am)
We see the Bloomington shuttle in the distance, stopping just a block away in front of Kilroy's Sports Bar. The girl in front of me picks up speed, her purse slapping against her thigh as she begins to do more than just the power-walk. I suddenly realize that when trying to catch a ride on the drunk bus, running and making a fool of yourself is totally acceptable.\nIt's a mad dash up North Walnut Street, swerving through groups of half-drunken people holding onto slices of Rockit's pizza or just each other.\n"Catching the drunk bus?" someone crows with laughter as we fly by them. I hope Tyler, Weekend's photographer, is still behind me.\nJust as we get within a few feet of the shuttle, its doors shut. \n"Hey, wait! Stop!" yells the guy at the front of our running group as he jumps into the street and waves his arms wildly at the vehicle, which begins to drive away. Defeated, he takes his girlfriend's arm, and they retreat to the parking garage.\n"We may not be getting a ride on the drunk bus tonight," I gasp as we watch the white, bulky shuttle chug off into the distance.\nThis evening has begun with a simple enough premise. After rumblings on campus and in the newspaper about the usefulness of the Midnight Special system, known more commonly as the "drunk bus," the Weekend staff decided we needed to check out the phenomenon ourselves.\nEnter me, and Weekend's trusty photographer, Tyler. We'd catch a shuttle a little before 2 a.m. and ride around until the end of the night, which ends at about 4 a.m. Along the way, we'd planned to meet some new friends and maybe have a drunken philosophical conversation or two. Couldn't be easier, right? Wrong.\nSo we've already been standing at the Indiana Memorial Union bus shelter for roughly half an hour, watching the headlights on 7th Street approach in the hopes that one of them is a shuttle. This is where the drunk bus supposedly starts its route, according to the campus bus Web site, and it should stop by every 20 minutes. The drunk bus, of course, is actually three or four of the Bloomington shuttle buses that normally drive back and forth from the airport.\nNoting the frosty air Tyler is expelling from his mouth, I begin to regret my decision to wear flip-flops and a short-sleeved shirt with a non-wind-resistant shrug. It's far too cold for this. \n"Where are you guys going?" an over-friendly brunette asks, walking crookedly with her boyfriend supporting her.\n"We're catching the drunk bus," I say, hoping they are as well.\n"Wow, that's awesome, a drug bust?" the boyfriend asks, his eyes huge as he checks out Tyler's expensive photography equipment.\n"No, the drunk bus," I repeat. Laughing, they wish us well and stumble off into the night. \nThis whole riding-the-drunk-bus thing is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought.\nWe drive over to Kirkwood Avenue and park, following the vague instructions listed on the Web site that say the drunk bus stops on Jordan, Kirkwood, Walnut and Third streets.\nThe question: Where is it?\nTwo shuttle chases later, I'm beginning to feel like I need some alcohol myself. Or, at the very least, a dowsing rod that senses large, moving groups of alcohol-soaked students.\nAt least I think we are getting some entertainment for our wasted time, as the police outside Sports slam a drunk in a pale green T-shirt against the side of their vehicle.\n"I can't feel my thumb!" the guy screams as two officers hold him down.\nA blonde girl on crutches, her entire leg in a flexible cast, hops by us, obviously not deterred from her night out by a measly little broken bone.\n"Settle down, settle down," a guy tells his girlfriend as she slips off of the sidewalk into the street while he watches the police with a wary eye.\nMore people head toward the parking garage and their cars, some unable to walk straight. I suppress the urge to suggest to the inebriated that they should be calling a cab or waiting for the drunk bus with us.\nMunching on a slice of pizza, senior Katherine Tabaka stops to chat with us as the drunk in handcuffs is put into the back of a police cruiser. The red and blue lights flashing from the four police cars across from us cast a weird pulsing glow over the street -- in time to the beat of the music pouring out of Sports.\nMaybe our problem is that we aren't drunk, I think, as Tabaka explains that the drunk bus always seems to magically appear when required. \n"Whenever I need it, it just seems to come there," she laughs. "I don't think they have schedules."\n"To be honest, if you just get on the bus and tell them where you want to go, they'll just take you there," her friend adds, wrapping his arms around Katherine to keep her warm.\nWell, we're getting somewhere in our quest for the drunk bus. So far, we've figured out that it passes along four major roads, usually stops in front of large bars like Kilroy's, and sometimes takes you exactly where you need to go. Maybe.\n"One random time it dropped me off at Steak n Shake," Katherine says, biting into the crust of her pizza. \nI really need that dowsing rod right about now.\nWe outlast the drunks in our wait for the Bloomington shuttle, but when the last three shuffle away in defeat, we know that our hunt for the drunk bus has to continue somewhere else. Like back on Kirkwood.\nIt's 3 a.m., and the night is getting surreal.\n"Five-foot tall is an average height," an extremely short guy screams across the street from us, obviously upset by his diminutive stature.\nLaughing with some other less drunken people in front of the Monroe County Public Library, we run into my bus buddy, senior Joie Meffert, who befriended me last month on a city bus ride home one day.\n"What are you guys doing tonight?" Joie asks, standing to give me a massive hug. I tell her I'm looking for the drunk bus. \n"I love riding the drunk bus," her friend Matthew Harmeyer says, making loud, slurpy kissing noises. "Big, sweetie kisses for the drunk bus."\nAfter a short conversation, Meffert, Harmeyer and their friends decide that the drunk bus, while loved, is kind of "random on purpose." I am so not convinced.\nStopping in front of the hot dog stand, I try to engage one of the men working there in a conversation about the drunk bus.\n"It starts off regular, but its been dealing with drunks all night, so it's random as heck," the hot dog guy outside of Kilroy's, Matt Berry, says, pointing out that the drivers of these shuttles are "pretty hip cats" to do this job.\n"They try to do the most good they can for the budget that they can," Berry says, his eyes googly through his thick glasses.\nFinally, we hit pay dirt. After 3:30 a.m., one of the shuttles pulls up in front of Peoples Park into a handicapped space. The crowd starts running toward it.\nI follow, my pad and paper clenched tightly in hand as I cross the street, ignoring the cars driving by in my attempt to get on the bus.\nAt the doorway, I stop and look back at Tyler, who is trying to take some photos, and beyond him into the dark where my car is parked. \nSuddenly, I realize that it's too late to catch this ride. \nThe bus driver kindly informs me that this is the last pass by Kirkwood tonight, and, deflated, I step aside and let the other eager patrons board.\nWe'd found the drunk bus, and our long and arduous search, which had taken almost two hours, was over. It hadn't required a dowsing rod, just a bit of luck and some high school track skills. Yet I feel like I've lost the race. \nI return to the hot dog stand, resting my arm gingerly along the plastic countertop.\n"There might be one more along tonight," Berry tells me as he slops chili sauce and onions on one of the dogs.\nI need a drink.
(10/04/06 4:42am)
The three jury alternates selected Monday morning for the murder trial of John R. Myers II will not be named until the jury begins deliberations, the Morgan County Superior Court said Tuesday.\nThe defense and prosecution both agreed that all 15 jurors will listen to testimony in the case involving the death of IU student Jill Behrman, who disappeared during a morning bike ride in May 2000. The final 12 members of the jury will be selected by the court after all the evidence has been presented in the trial. \nThe decision will most likely be made by Judge Christopher Burnham, along with the attorneys for both sides, said David Remondini, counsel to the chief justice of the Indiana Supreme Court.\nDuring this time, the jury will be sequestered with security in nearby local lodgings.\nThe all-white jury with alternates is comprised of eight men and seven women, most of whom are married. The average age of the jury members is 39, with the youngest being 23 years old.\nFive of the jurors have been through college, and most have trade school and high school degrees. The group ranges from those in the manufacturing and medical fields to single parents, divorcees and entrepreneurs.\nAll the jurors will be referred to by number throughout the trial, and information regarding their identities will only be disclosed to the public with their permission after the trial is concluded.\nMyers pleaded not guilty to the charge of murdering of Behrman, after a grand jury indicted him in April. The grand jury was formed in March after hunters found her remains in Morgan County in 2003. Police began narrowing in on Myers in December 2004. \nThe trial begins Oct. 16 and is expected to last for three to four weeks, running through Saturdays as well. The court has said there are more than 100 potential witnesses who could be called, among them WXIN Fox 59 reporter Kim King of Indianapolis.
(10/03/06 4:44am)
Twelve jurors and three alternates were selected Monday for the trial of John R. Myers II of Ellettsville, who is charged with the murder of IU student Jill Behrman.\nMyers, 30, was indicted by a grand jury in April on charges of murder for the death of 19-year-old Jill Behrman, who disappeared in May 2000 during a morning bike ride. The court has not yet released any information regarding Myers' connection to Jill Behrman's death in this tightly sealed case.\nJill Behrman's remains were discovered near rural Paragon, Ind., by hunters in 2003.\nAll 12 jurors and one alternate were selected by noon from a pool of about 40 people, one quarter of the candidates who were asked to show up for jury selection. The afternoon session wrapped up at 3:30 p.m. after two more alternates were selected.\nThe answering machine at the Morgan County Circuit Court told candidates for jury selection that they no longer needed to report Tuesday.\nAll of the potential jurors required to appear at the Morgan County Courthouse this week were pre-screened after filling out an extensive questionnaire sent out in the local mail to about 360 area residents. \nDavid Remondini, counsel to the chief justice of the Indiana Supreme Court, said the selection process moved quickly because of the advance questionnaire's help.\n"In trials where there are advance questionnaires sent out -- as in this trial -- based on the answers provided, attorneys in the case can weed through a lot of issues more quickly," he said in a phone interview Monday. \nThe questionnaire asked jury candidates to answer questions ranging from name and date of birth to questions regarding their relationships with the local court of law and Myers himself. This made it easier for defense attorney Patrick Baker and Morgan County Prosecutor Steve Sonnega to narrow the pool down to the final 12. \nThe selected jurors will be sequestered for the entire trial, which could last up to four weeks, including Saturdays. During this time they will not be exposed to any newspapers, magazines, television or other forms of news, and all contacts with the outside world will be monitored. Morgan County will pay for all meals and lodging, and recreational activities and outings will be arranged for jurors as needed.\nJill Behrman's parents were in attendance Monday after being invited to the jury selection by the court.\nMarilyn Behrman said she was pleased with the way the pre-trial process has been progressing. \n"I was really glad we were invited to be there," she said. "I'm interested in how the process works (and) to see who the jurors will be.\n"To be at this point, with a trial date -- that's a huge step," she said. \nThe trial is set to begin Oct. 16 in Martinsville.
(10/03/06 3:40am)
An Indianapolis television reporter has been named as a possible witness in the murder trial of John R. Myers II, who is accused of killing IU student Jill Behrman in 2000.\nKim King, a reporter and weekend meteorologist for Fox 59 News, has previously covered the upcoming Jill Behrman trial for the WXIN station. \nLast week officials released documents showing that King was listed as a potential witness for both the prosecution and defense in the Behrman case. \nThe Sept. 21 letter made public by the Morgan County Circuit Court shows that King and Fox 59 retained an attorney from the Indianapolis law firm Bingham McHale in an attempt to discover if she had been listed as a witness for either side.\nMorgan County Superior Court Judge Christopher Burnham informed her attorneys that King was indeed a witness and advised them that King was also subject to the witness separation order issued July 11. The documents did not reveal why King was being named as one of more than 100 possible witnesses in this case.\nThe witness separation order states that potential witnesses may not discuss their testimony or any facts about the case with any other potential witnesses, the media or other members of the public for the duration of the trial. In accordance with these rules, it is unlikely that King will be able to report on the Behrman trial.\nAnthony Fargo, an associate professor in the IU School of Journalism who specializes in media law, said being called as a witness in any trial is something reporters try to avoid.\n"Generally, new reporters don't like to be witnesses if they can help it," Fargo said. "It calls into question their objectivity. If (King) is being asked something that was told to her by a confidential source, that raises all kinds of complications."\nOn Aug. 25, King was denied access to both the prosecution and defense witness lists after filing a public access records act request. King was not available for comment.
(09/28/06 4:00am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>It's three a.m. and a small, motley group is standing outside of the Cinemat on the corner of Walnut and 4th Street, practicing some fire-eating techniques.
"It's a cold fire," explains a short, round-faced woman with spiky black hair as she lights another metal stick with what looks like Pennzoil. She is one of the fire-eaters who are trying to convince me to try to eat some flames myself, but I, never being one to stick strange objects in my mouth without at least learning their name first, am obviously hesitant.
A medium-sized, tentacle-faced creature leans toward me; his cold, unblinking yellow eye staring into mine. "Come on, try it," he says, his broad, rolling accent sounding sinister. I laugh nervously, but I'm not going to eat fire anytime soon.
Luckily, these aren't just any random strangers hanging out on street corners in an attempt to frighten people in the middle of the night.
Instead, they are the members and fans of the well-loved weekly movie event called Atomic Age Cinema, a $3 midnight shock show designed to poke fun at really crappy sci-fi and horror movies. And the tentacle-faced creature isn't really … well, OK, so he is kind of sinister, but officially his name is Dr. Calamari and he's one of the two hosts of this darkly humorous commentary show that encourages audience participation.
Atomic Age Cinema is held every weekend in donated Cinemat theater space at midnight, in the murky hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning. This September it celebrates its second birthday as one of the only live-hosted horror film shows in the nation.
Often compared by its fans as a bizarre combination of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and "Mystery Science Theater 3000," the program is gaining prominence as a great way to spice up the dull early morning hours of a weekend in Bloomington.
"It's definitely an alternative to [the bar and band scene] because that stuff can get old," says Dave Pruett, the executive director of the Cinephile Film Arts Organization, which hosts the out-of-print and obscure movie screenings each week as a form of fundraising for its group. Not that the audience actually cares about all that.
They are here for the beer and the laughs.
"What's white, fluffy and goes sss-boom-bah?," asks Dr. Calamari, his flaccid mouth of dark-grey tentacles quivering slightly as his moves his ear-less head.
"An exploding sheep," someone in the back of the room shouts, and the rest of the audience roars with laughter.
It's the intermission during the utterly ridiculous movie "The Day the Earth Caught Fire," and I'm sitting back in my chair, popping Junior Mints and drinking my bottle of water. Tonight the strange trivia questions are pretty much unanswerable, but they are funny nonetheless, so the audience doesn't really care.
Baron Mardi, a 6'6" tall voodoo priest from New Orleans, stands at the front of the room with his co-host Dr. Calamari. Both comedians never break character and avoid disclosing their alter egos to the audience. Mardi, beer in hand, tosses out a "prize" to the winner of the last trivia question.
"The prizes are -- you never know what you are going to get," Pruett says, standing outside the concession stand he mans, which sells everything from popcorn and hot dogs to a wide selection of domestic and imported beers for those who are of-age. "Last week someone got a parking ticket."
Stephen Jankovic, a part-time IU student, explains that, like everything else Atomic Age does, the prizes are just bad, and sometime really bad, jokes.
"The worst prize we gave out was dryer lint," he says, naming the "Village of the Giants" movie where the "prize," surprisingly all pooled from one person's dryer, was given out. "We said it was giants' belly button lint."
And dryer lint is what makes this irreverent, ribald show funny.
Back in the darkened theater, the black-and-white film turns back to a sepia-tone meant to represent the "burning" Earth. The audience claps and cheers.
"Mostly we like to show films that have no social relevance at all," Dr. Calamari yells above the noise. After all, this shock show is not just about making fun of bad movies.
Atomic Age Cinema's rather twisted story began over two years ago, when Cinephile, which supports independent filmmakers in south-central Indiana through grants, internships and film festivals, needed a source of funding for their fledgling group.
Before lighting on the idea of showing really horrid B-movies to a willing Bloomington audience, they concocted all sorts of crazy and expensive schemes, like a tabletop movie jukebox that would play independent filmmakers' movies when given change.
"We came up with all kinds of really lame ideas for fundraising," Pruett says unabashedly.
Finally someone in the group mentioned the horror hosts of yore, low-budget TV characters like '80s goth-princess Elvira who hosted weekly television horror movie specials, and the crazy-fun idea of creating a spoof was born. Throw in some cracked out B-movies from the '50s and '60s, a couple of outrageous comedians in costume, lots of beer, and stir until you can't see straight.
Or, as Pruett puts it, "I've always been a fan of B-movies and we had access to the space." Whatever.
Yes, whatever the real story is, the fact is that people love Atomic Age Cinema. Whether it's the thrill of yelling at a movie screen in a darkened room and having other people laugh at your comments or just the ability to actually drink beer and watch a movie on the big screen at the same time, people keep coming back week after week.
Bloomington resident Mark Richardson, a long-time regular, said he knew immediately that this show was going to be fun. "I knew from the beginning," he says, twisting in his chair to speak to me. "It was this absurd thing. And it's just really fun."
"I come here because I laugh as hard as I can," says senior Lindsey Charles, who drags her friends every week to the show. "It's a good break from the week. You don't get to see movies like this on a regular basis."
For Claudia Kidd, the spiky-haired fire-eater, her reason for coming is a lot more concrete.
"I'm screwing the Baron," she says, her face deadpan before cracking a smile. "And besides getting greasepaint all over my face every night, I'm a really big film buff."
"It's something unique," adds senior James Stroman, who joined Cinephile after becoming a fan of the midnight show. "And it's kind of hip. It's geek-chic."
Pruett agrees that this is one of the most well-attended events the Cinemat holds, even though he admits he is hard-pressed to understand exactly why. "I think it's because … there's not another show like this in the Midwest -- maybe not anywhere," he says.
And maybe it's just because people have twisted minds.
"(People come because of) the glory -- dissections, live human abortions and the Earth catching fire," Dr. Calamari says after the show, standing outside with his long-stemmed cigarette holder carefully propped between two heavily-gloved fingers. Unlike Holly Golightly, however, Dr. Calamari's wandering cigarette and gleaming eye make you wonder if he's really joking or not.
"It's like your mom's mashed potatoes," Baron Mardi throws in, trying to shed some light to the unknown quality that is their core audience. "It's something that people know consistently … we're kind of self-deprecating and we play up the goofiness."
"You can drink and watch a movie -- and there's a smoke break," said the Baron before lighting up a stick, throwing back his head and dipping the flame into his open mouth. "I don't know how people can sit through an entire movie without a smoke."
Upcoming Events for Atomic Age Cinema
Sept. 30: Movie -- "Xtro"
Oct. 7: Movie -- "Alice, Sweet Alice"
Oct. 14: Movie -- "Masque of the Red Death"
Oct. 21: Movie -- "Profundo Rosso"
Oct. 28: Hosting the Monster's Ball at Second Story
(09/28/06 3:06am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>It's three a.m. and a small, motley group is standing outside of the Cinemat on the corner of Walnut and 4th Street, practicing some fire-eating techniques.
"It's a cold fire," explains a short, round-faced woman with spiky black hair as she lights another metal stick with what looks like Pennzoil. She is one of the fire-eaters who are trying to convince me to try to eat some flames myself, but I, never being one to stick strange objects in my mouth without at least learning their name first, am obviously hesitant.
A medium-sized, tentacle-faced creature leans toward me; his cold, unblinking yellow eye staring into mine. "Come on, try it," he says, his broad, rolling accent sounding sinister. I laugh nervously, but I'm not going to eat fire anytime soon.
Luckily, these aren't just any random strangers hanging out on street corners in an attempt to frighten people in the middle of the night.
Instead, they are the members and fans of the well-loved weekly movie event called Atomic Age Cinema, a $3 midnight shock show designed to poke fun at really crappy sci-fi and horror movies. And the tentacle-faced creature isn't really … well, OK, so he is kind of sinister, but officially his name is Dr. Calamari and he's one of the two hosts of this darkly humorous commentary show that encourages audience participation.
Atomic Age Cinema is held every weekend in donated Cinemat theater space at midnight, in the murky hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning. This September it celebrates its second birthday as one of the only live-hosted horror film shows in the nation.
Often compared by its fans as a bizarre combination of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and "Mystery Science Theater 3000," the program is gaining prominence as a great way to spice up the dull early morning hours of a weekend in Bloomington.
"It's definitely an alternative to [the bar and band scene] because that stuff can get old," says Dave Pruett, the executive director of the Cinephile Film Arts Organization, which hosts the out-of-print and obscure movie screenings each week as a form of fundraising for its group. Not that the audience actually cares about all that.
They are here for the beer and the laughs.
"What's white, fluffy and goes sss-boom-bah?," asks Dr. Calamari, his flaccid mouth of dark-grey tentacles quivering slightly as his moves his ear-less head.
"An exploding sheep," someone in the back of the room shouts, and the rest of the audience roars with laughter.
It's the intermission during the utterly ridiculous movie "The Day the Earth Caught Fire," and I'm sitting back in my chair, popping Junior Mints and drinking my bottle of water. Tonight the strange trivia questions are pretty much unanswerable, but they are funny nonetheless, so the audience doesn't really care.
Baron Mardi, a 6'6" tall voodoo priest from New Orleans, stands at the front of the room with his co-host Dr. Calamari. Both comedians never break character and avoid disclosing their alter egos to the audience. Mardi, beer in hand, tosses out a "prize" to the winner of the last trivia question.
"The prizes are -- you never know what you are going to get," Pruett says, standing outside the concession stand he mans, which sells everything from popcorn and hot dogs to a wide selection of domestic and imported beers for those who are of-age. "Last week someone got a parking ticket."
Stephen Jankovic, a part-time IU student, explains that, like everything else Atomic Age does, the prizes are just bad, and sometime really bad, jokes.
"The worst prize we gave out was dryer lint," he says, naming the "Village of the Giants" movie where the "prize," surprisingly all pooled from one person's dryer, was given out. "We said it was giants' belly button lint."
And dryer lint is what makes this irreverent, ribald show funny.
Back in the darkened theater, the black-and-white film turns back to a sepia-tone meant to represent the "burning" Earth. The audience claps and cheers.
"Mostly we like to show films that have no social relevance at all," Dr. Calamari yells above the noise. After all, this shock show is not just about making fun of bad movies.
Atomic Age Cinema's rather twisted story began over two years ago, when Cinephile, which supports independent filmmakers in south-central Indiana through grants, internships and film festivals, needed a source of funding for their fledgling group.
Before lighting on the idea of showing really horrid B-movies to a willing Bloomington audience, they concocted all sorts of crazy and expensive schemes, like a tabletop movie jukebox that would play independent filmmakers' movies when given change.
"We came up with all kinds of really lame ideas for fundraising," Pruett says unabashedly.
Finally someone in the group mentioned the horror hosts of yore, low-budget TV characters like '80s goth-princess Elvira who hosted weekly television horror movie specials, and the crazy-fun idea of creating a spoof was born. Throw in some cracked out B-movies from the '50s and '60s, a couple of outrageous comedians in costume, lots of beer, and stir until you can't see straight.
Or, as Pruett puts it, "I've always been a fan of B-movies and we had access to the space." Whatever.
Yes, whatever the real story is, the fact is that people love Atomic Age Cinema. Whether it's the thrill of yelling at a movie screen in a darkened room and having other people laugh at your comments or just the ability to actually drink beer and watch a movie on the big screen at the same time, people keep coming back week after week.
Bloomington resident Mark Richardson, a long-time regular, said he knew immediately that this show was going to be fun. "I knew from the beginning," he says, twisting in his chair to speak to me. "It was this absurd thing. And it's just really fun."
"I come here because I laugh as hard as I can," says senior Lindsey Charles, who drags her friends every week to the show. "It's a good break from the week. You don't get to see movies like this on a regular basis."
For Claudia Kidd, the spiky-haired fire-eater, her reason for coming is a lot more concrete.
"I'm screwing the Baron," she says, her face deadpan before cracking a smile. "And besides getting greasepaint all over my face every night, I'm a really big film buff."
"It's something unique," adds senior James Stroman, who joined Cinephile after becoming a fan of the midnight show. "And it's kind of hip. It's geek-chic."
Pruett agrees that this is one of the most well-attended events the Cinemat holds, even though he admits he is hard-pressed to understand exactly why. "I think it's because … there's not another show like this in the Midwest -- maybe not anywhere," he says.
And maybe it's just because people have twisted minds.
"(People come because of) the glory -- dissections, live human abortions and the Earth catching fire," Dr. Calamari says after the show, standing outside with his long-stemmed cigarette holder carefully propped between two heavily-gloved fingers. Unlike Holly Golightly, however, Dr. Calamari's wandering cigarette and gleaming eye make you wonder if he's really joking or not.
"It's like your mom's mashed potatoes," Baron Mardi throws in, trying to shed some light to the unknown quality that is their core audience. "It's something that people know consistently … we're kind of self-deprecating and we play up the goofiness."
"You can drink and watch a movie -- and there's a smoke break," said the Baron before lighting up a stick, throwing back his head and dipping the flame into his open mouth. "I don't know how people can sit through an entire movie without a smoke."
Upcoming Events for Atomic Age Cinema
Sept. 30: Movie -- "Xtro"
Oct. 7: Movie -- "Alice, Sweet Alice"
Oct. 14: Movie -- "Masque of the Red Death"
Oct. 21: Movie -- "Profundo Rosso"
Oct. 28: Hosting the Monster's Ball at Second Story
(09/27/06 4:20am)
John R. Myers II's lawyer plans to file an alibi for the defendant in the murder of IU student Jill Behrman, who disappeared May 31, 2000, after she went for a morning bike ride in the Bloomington area, court documents said. \nMyers, 30, of Ellettsville, was charged with the 19-year-old's death April 11, after an exhaustive grand jury investigation into her death narrowed in on him. Myers became a person of interest for the Indiana State Police in December of 2004.\nIn a motion released Tuesday by the Morgan County Superior Court, defense lawyer Patrick Baker, of Indianapolis, argued that after reviewing the grand jury's extensive transcript, which numbers 6,185 pages, he has found evidence of his client's alibi for the day of May 31. Many of the details of the grand jury investigation, which include interviews with more than 90 witnesses, remain sealed.\nThe alibi was not released to the public. Baker's motion to file a "belated notice of alibi" said it involves telephone records of a conversation or conversations between Myers and a female witness who was deposed by the defense August 11.\nBaker stated in the motion that the defense was unable to file the notice of alibi earlier because of the length of the grand jury transcript and the dates depositions were taken. \nThrough "Third Party Requests" at the end of August, the defense was able to retrieve these telephone records from the Smithville Telephone Company of Ellettsville and CenturyTel of Tennessee.\nBaker said he presumed that the exclusion of these records in the court's "sweeping" discovery order meant the state had "either intentionally withheld them from the defense counsel or failed to provide them through gross negligence."\nThe motion asked Judge Christopher Burnham for permission to file the Notice of Alibi as Exhibit A, even though the deadline was Aug. 1.\nThe jury selection for the Behrman trial is scheduled for Monday and Tuesday in Martinsville.
(09/21/06 3:10am)
Pizza Express's famous Popeye pizza has lost its pizzazz-- its spinach.\n"We are serving the Popeye without spinach," said Pizza Express marketing communications manager Sara Sheikh, who, along with business people around Bloomington, has been doing her best to work around the recent spinach crisis. \nBut as the E. coli scare that has paralyzed spinach sales across 21 states enters its second week, local consumers and vendors are tiring of the ban on the common vegetable.\n"I hope this ordeal is over soon," said Javad Noori, the owner of Sahara Mart. Noori said his store got rid of all of its bagged and fresh spinach and salad mixes last Friday and still has customers asking for it. \n"Some people are really missing their spinach," he said\nAt Upland Brewery Co., where the spinach and artichoke dip appetizer is a customer favorite, the restaurant had to throw away more than 30 pounds of product containing spinach, said Ryan Harvey, the restaurant manager.\n"For the weekend I was forced to go to Marsh and buy cases and cases of Romaine lettuce to make our own salad mix," Harvey said. \nAs an alternative, his restaurant is using frozen or canned spinach product for its dishes.\nSince last Thursday, the Food and Drug Administration has received reports of E. coli outbreaks in 21 states related to fresh and bagged spinach. One of the first affected was Indiana. Of 131 cases, 66 people have been hospitalized, 20 have suffered kidney failure and one person has died.\nCustomers are feeling the pinch as they are told their favorite dishes are unavailable. \n"I was shocked that I couldn't get spinach," said Stephanie Suvak, an IU graduate student who was given a spinach-less wrap at Kiva in the Indiana Memorial Union Wednesday. "I didn't realize they'd actually be pulling spinach, and there would be a shortage."\nAt restaurants like Mother Bear's Pizza, where spinach is an essential part of many recipes, the spinach shortage has forced them to remove certain crowd pleasers from their menu.\nEllie Debevoise, an IU alumnus, said she was very disappointed when she learned she couldn't order the spinach lasagna from Mother Bear's.\n"I was upset about that," Debevoise said. "Spinach is one of those things you take for granted. You never really think about vegetables being a health problem."\n"We had to throw out a whole pan of spinach lasagna we were cooking," Wyatt Clark, a cook at Mother Bear's, said. Clark said that the pizza place would return to cooking with spinach once the FDA ban was lifted, but it's hard to say when that will be.\nFresh spinach has been recalled up to Oct. 1, according to the "Best if Used by Date" on the packages, and vendors are uncertain when the crisis will be deemed over.\nGreg Phillips, the produce manager at Bloomingfoods, said the local co-op was still waiting on word from its vendors.\n"I'm not even sure they really know when the E. coli scare is going to be over," said Angela Lamonica, the front house manager at Roots. Her restaurant has been substituting Romaine lettuce for spinach. \nWhile Lamonica said the restaurant was fully reimbursed by its vendor for the spinach that was in stock, some local businesses, like Sahara Mart, are still waiting to find out if they will be reimbursed as well.\n"We are hoping to be reimbursed by the company," Noori said. "I know the farmers are going to lose big time because of this. I hope someone reimburses them"
(09/20/06 4:49am)
Funeral services for senior Brad Dugan, 24, of Bloomington, who was killed Sunday morning in a motorcycle crash, are being held at 2 p.m. today at the Day Funeral Home, 4150 E. Third St. \nDugan, an avid biker, called his friends early Sunday morning, asking them to take a late-night ride on their motorcycles with him. He had finished his shift at a local retirement community, eaten pizza back at the house with his roommates and was eager to go riding. \nBy about 4 a.m., Dugan's ride turned fatal when his vehicle crashed along State Road 446, just north of South Swartz Road, according to the Monroe County Sheriff's Department, which received a 911 call at 4:10 a.m. \nJunior Rachel Gill, a passenger on another motorcycle riding with Dugan, said they started driving around at about 3 a.m. and had separated when Dugan's bike, which was faster, passed them and drove ahead. Sometime later, Dugan's bike veered left off the center line as it was traveling northbound, Monroe County Sheriff's Department Deputy Nathan Peach said. When the bike hit the grass on the opposite side of the road, Dugan and his passenger were thrown from it. \n"They were well over the speed limit," Peach said, adding that the motorcycle traveled 550 feet after it left the road.\nPeach said sophomore Alexandria Willhardt, the passenger on Dugan's motorcycle, was able to flag down a vehicle and was given a ride to a nearby apartment complex, where she then called 911. \n"The only thing she does remember is that she was on the bike that morning," Peach said. \nAt this point Willhardt is the only witness to the accident, he said.\nThough Dugan's motorcycle remained intact, there was a large debris field caused in part from the bike hitting a picket fence along the road. Peach said Dugan likely died from head trauma. One helmet was found at the scene but was not on anyone, he said. The Monroe County coroner could not be reached for comment.\nWillhardt, 18, sustained broken wrists, a broken ankle and multiple lacerations to her face, Peach said. She was listed in stable condition at Bloomington Hospital on Tuesday night.\nFriends and family of Dugan mourned the loss of a good friend and son as they gathered at his viewing Tuesday.\n"It came as a big surprise," Glen Inman, a co-worker of Dugan's, said. "We were all in shock."\nOne of Dugan's riding buddies, T.J. Hall, an IU alumnus, described him as a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky guy. \n"Life was one big fun game to him," Hall said. "He just enjoyed life."\nInman said Dugan, who was a dining room supervisor and five-year employee at the Meadowood Retirement Community, was an easy-going guy who could always make people laugh and was very patient with the elderly.\n"I always looked forward to coming in and hearing his stories," Gill added. "He was awesome to work with, and I'm going to miss him terribly."\nFor Dugan's roommates, the loss of their constant source of humor is especially hard.\n"There's not a whole lot I can do today without it reminding me of him," said Christopher Quackenbrush, who graduated in 2004. \nHe said he and Dugan's girlfriends always teased the two of them, saying they would end up buying houses next to each other so they could grow old together.\nQuackenbrush said Dugan was always the one who could drag him and his friends out for a night of fun, even if they thought they were too tired. He would constantly make people laugh with crazy stories and silly comments, he said.\n"He didn't always do the right thing, but he did the Brad thing, and that's what made him special," Quackenbrush said.\n"He always brought a smile to everybody's face," said Nick Campbell, a 2003 IU graduate who was another roommate of Dugan's, adding that Dugan always said, "not a problem," no matter what situation was thrown his way.\nDugan was also always there for his friends and was close with his family. \n"He was like a brother to me," said his roommate Scott Colglazier, who graduated from IU in 2004. \nQuackenbrush recounted a story from his 21st birthday. He said Dugan had sat him down and told him that he was the first one there and that he would be the last one to leave, "to make sure I'd be OK," Quackenbrush said.\n"I was always happy to be with Brad," Quackenbrush said. "I plan on leaving an open spot in my wedding for him."\nDugan was planning to graduate from the School of Public and Environmental Affairs in December and looking into a career in management, his friends said.
(09/14/06 4:10am)
After facing harsh criticism from community members and two IU civil rights groups, the Bluebird has canceled tonight's performance by a controversial Jamaican artist.\nBuju Banton, a reggae musician known for controversial music he wrote in the '90s advocating the murder of gay people, was scheduled to sing this evening at the Bluebird, 216 N. Walnut St. But after the Hoosier Rights Campaign and OUT began a campaign to protest the performance, Dave Kubiak, the owner and manager of the Bluebird, decided Wednesday to cancel the show.\n"It became a bigger social issue and a responsibility to the community," Kubiak said. "You want all people to feel welcome to be there." \nMembers and supporters of Bloomington's gay community are pleased. \n"There's been a big show of community interest and disapproval of this show," senior Morgan Tilleman, the president of the Hoosier Rights Campaign, said. "The Bluebird made the right decision, and we are very happy they are doing this."\nSenior Christina Patterson, a member of OUT, said she was happy with the end result of the two groups' efforts. "It's great that the Bluebird realized that it wasn't a good thing to have someone like that spreading negativity, especially after all that we've done," she said.\n"I think it shows that they care about what people think," said junior Meredith Evans, who joined a Facebook group for students preparing to protest the performance.\nEven though Banton performed at the Bluebird in 2003 without making offensive remarks, Kubiak said the large reaction from the community forced him to rethink the upcoming performance.\n"I try to do what's best for the Bluebird," Kubiak said. "I didn't know what the windfall was going to be. You have to look at the long-term reputation of the Bluebird."\nThe Bluebird will be taking a large financial loss for canceling the show, an action that is usually unheard of in the music industry. Kubiak is still in negotiations with Banton's management, and the final tally could reach an excess of $5,000, he said.\nBanton's record label, Gargamel Music, Inc., expressed disappointment over the cancellation of the show. Vice President Tracii McGregor called the protests of Banton's performance "very reactionary and baseless." \n"If you are trying to judge a man by his music, then you must judge him by his body of work," McGregor said, citing Banton's previous AIDS work and award-winning music, which includes a Grammy nomination.\nBanton's anti-gay song "Boom Bye Bye" was written in 1992. In it he sings about shooting gay men and throwing acid on them to kill them, according to translated versions of the song. \nThe Hoosier Rights Campaign and OUT said Banton is inciting hate crimes by not apologizing for the song and continuing to perform it on occasion.\nIn addition, last year Banton was accused of being involved in a brutal 2004 assault of six gay men in Kingston, according to The Associated Press. One of the victims reported the incident to the police, and Banton was subsequently arrested. McGregor said the incident occurred close to his studio. Banton was cleared of those charges in January this year, she said.\nInstead of the planned concert and protest, an acoustic duo will perform at the Bluebird tonight at 10 p.m. The protesters plan to attend as a thank you to the bar for supporting them.\nIn Chicago on Wednesday night, Banton performed at the House of Blues, while the Gay Liberation Network and Black LGBT & Allies for Equality protested, Tilleman said. A concert held this summer near Brighton, England, was also canceled due to pressure from the gay community and local government.
(09/13/06 2:53am)
The IU Hoosier Rights Campaign and OUT are up in arms over a Jamaican artist a local club has booked to perform this week, calling him a "blatant and unapologetic" gay-basher.\nBuju Banton, a performer in the dancehall genre of reggae, is well-known in the musical community for a controversial song he wrote in the '90s advocating killing gay people. Banton, who last sang at the Bluebird, 216 N Walnut St., in 2003, is scheduled to perform there again this Thursday evening. \n"It's a degree of violence that you don't see in American culture," senior Morgan Tilleman, the president of the HRC, said in reference to Banton's song. The HRC and OUT are currently organizing a community response effort, hoping to educate and inform concert attendees about Banton's stance.\nBluebird manager Dave Kubiak said that he will not cancel the performance Thursday, citing Banton's previous concert as a positive, well-liked event with no derogatory remarks made.\n"I met him personally, and he seemed like a very cordial, well-mannered young man," Kubiak said. "We don't anticipate any negative feedback this time, either."\nKubiak said that as the owner of both the Bluebird and Jake's, formerly Axis, a nightclub that hosted Miss Gay Bloomington and Eroticon, performances held at his businesses in no way reflect the bar's personal stance on issues.\nBanton's anti-homosexual song "Boom Bye Bye," was written in 1992, and according to the lyrics, in it he sings about lighting gay people on fire and throwing acid on them. This song, which he has refused to apologize for and still performs on occasion, is one of the things HRC sees that is wrong with support of Banton. \nIn addition, the group is upset about Banton's recent run-in with the law in Jamaica, where he was acquitted in a case involving a brutal assault on three gay men this January.\n"He has not only called for violence against gay people, he's committed violence against gay people," Tilleman said.\nIn Chicago today, Banton is scheduled to perform at the House of Blues, where the Gay Liberation Network and Black LGBT & Allies for Equality plan to protest. Tilleman is still uncertain whether there will be protesting here in Bloomington, as well.\nA Facebook group has been formed in an attempt to stop Banton from performing in Bloomington this week. It currently has about 200 members.
(09/06/06 3:14am)
Three workers who were severely burned last week in an electrical fire at the new Super Wal-Mart are on a long, slow road to recovery.\nAll three men currently remain in stable but critical condition at the Richard M. Fairbanks Burn Center in Wishard Memorial Hospital, a $16 million facility that bills itself as one of the most progressive burn centers in the nation.\n"There's a lot that goes into taking care of any burn patient," said Kari Gabehart, the clinical educator and a registered nurse at the Wishard burn center. "They have risks, just as any patient has risks."\nRobert Eury, 29, of Bloomington, is one of the men in critical condition after he was injured Aug. 26 when a piece of metal connected to a live electrical breaker shorted out the small room the men were working in and lit them on fire.\nEury suffered second- and third-degree burns to 85 percent of his body, along with Steve Abbott, 27, of Otterbein, Ohio, and Scott Shelton, 35, of Anderson, who were also severely burned. The men all worked for Electromation, Inc. of Muncie.\nCurrently the men are starting their second week of care, and the largest danger they face includes the risk of infection to areas that are without skin, the body's natural barrier to the elements. Gabehart said a special burn team gives severely burned patients around-the-clock care, with nurses changing dressings and monitoring body conditions on an hourly basis. Because of patient privacy laws, the burn center could not discuss the specific care the men are receiving, but Gabehart was able to speak in general about the care severely burned patients at Wishard require.\n"Severely burned patients get dressings changed two or three times a day, and each time it can take up to three hours," Gabehart said.\nIn addition, patients recieve continuous pain medication through IVs, "for obvious reasons," Gabehart said.\nBob Johnson, 46, a local friend of Eury, has been visiting the burn center often since the accident happened a little more than a week ago and said that last week Eury was in an induced coma while the nurses let his body begin to heal itself.\n"He's strong and stable," Johnson said. "They said that he was good."\nEury and his co-workers have at least a three-month in-patient recovery time ahead of them. Last week the burn center began grafting homograft skin from cadavers onto their bodies to protect them while they heal. Because Eury, Abbott and Shelton do not have much of their own skin that was unharmed in the electrical fire, their skin must be eventually grown for them.\n"The (homograft) skin is a temporary surface to give time to prepare the wound bed to accept the patient's skin," Gabehart explained. "We are continually taking the patient to surgery, making sure that the wound bed is clean."\nWhile their bodies receive temporary skin grafts, the men's own skin cells are being grown into strips of skin for eventual transplant. Cultured skin substitutes, as they are called, are made through a medical process where a biopsy is taken from what is left of the patient's skin and grown in a nutrient solution meshed together with a medical fabric that dissolves after being grafted to the wound, according to the Burn Survivor Resource Center Web site.\nThe tissue is grown in small batches and can take anywhere from 12 to 21 days to mature and be transported back to hospitals like Wishard. Once they arrive, surgeons treat them like any other skin graft, and after two or three weeks of healing, patients can begin rehabilitation. It takes up to two months for cultured skin to be grown to fully cover catastrophically burned patients, according to the Web site, like the Electromation contractors.\n"The goal is to get the patient covered," Gabehart said. "Once the wound is healed, the therapists work with the patients (to rehabilitate them)."\nBurn patients also require large amounts of fluids and high protein and calorie supplements to help their wounds heal, as well as intense rehabilitation to make sure the new skin grows properly over their joints.
(09/01/06 4:25am)
Electrician Robert Eury, 29, of Bloomington was in Wishard Memorial Hospital in Indianapolis Thursday with second- and third-degree burns covering nearly 90 percent of his body. \nIt has been nearly a week since he was critically injured in an electrical blast at the site of the not-yet-complete Super Wal-Mart, where 12,000 volts of electricity created an arc that lit him and two of his co-workers on fire Aug. 26. \nEury was able to escape the electrified room, crawling outside the back of the building to other workers who stomped the flames out on his body, Monroe County Sheriff Deputy Randy Jacobs said. \nSurprisingly, he was alive and conscious, Jacobs said.\nEury's friends are already gearing up to help him in his long recovery.\nEury's roommate Trevor Charles said he felt like he had to do something to help Eury, who is currently listed in stable but critical condition in Wishard's burn unit. \n"There was this feeling of helplessness," Charles said. "I thought if I could work on this, at least I could do something for him."\nCharles, 28, and Bob Johnson, a friend of Eury's, quickly decided a fitting way to help Eury financially was to hold a benefit concert for him featuring some of his favorite music.\n"Robert really likes music, and he really likes Lynyrd Skynyrd," Charles said. \nJoy Thomas, 36, a close friend, vividly remembers the night she first met Eury, whom she calls by his middle name, Byron. \n"He was singing karaoke when I met him. Byron has a shy side to him, but when he gets up there, he just comes out of his shell," Thomas said, adding that he has a deep appreciation for music. \n"He loves to play the guitar," Thomas said. \nAs well as playing the guitar, Eury writes his own lyrics and composes music in his free time.\nThough the event is still in its early stages, Charles is eager to find a few local bands who are interested in performing Eury's favorite music to assist in raising money to help cover his medical expenses. A Myspace.com group has been formed to help spread the word in the area, and the group's Web site mentions that money raised at the event will be placed in an escrow account until Eury needs it. \nRecovery for third-degree burns like Eury's often takes months and requires multiple plastic surgeries to repair the damage, the Johns Hopkins Burn Center Web site said.\nEury's family, which includes his parents and two brothers, came up from Salisbury, N.C., after Eury's accident. Thomas, who spoke to the Indiana Daily Student via phone while driving to Indianapolis to see Eury and his family, recalled the parts of Eury's personality that mean the most to her.\n"He just has a great sense of humor," Thomas said. "When we lived together, I laughed at something every day. He's just a super guy."\nMore than funny, Eury was caring, Thomas said.\n"I know it's the old cliché, that he'd give you the shirt off his back, but it's true — he would. He's just a super guy."\nCharles said hearing about the accident Saturday was shocking, as Eury had just started moving up in his job as an electrician, managing other workers as well as being given more duties. \n"He was excited about it," Charles said. "He said there was a lot of pressure."\nThomas spoke positively about his recovery. \n"He's starting to respond a little to voices, and he's started to move his arms," she said. "When we're talking to him, he moves, so that's good."\nScott Shelton, 35, of Anderson, and Steve Abbott, 27, of Otterbein were also injured in the blast. Abbott is currently listed in stable but critical condition at Wishard with Eury, and Shelton remains in critical condition at Riley Hospital for Children, where he was transferred Tuesday.\nThe Monroe County Sheriff's Department is considering the incident a job site accident, and the Van Buren Township Fire Department and Indiana Occupational Safety and Health Division are investigating the accident. A complaint officer at IOSHA declined comment.\nElectromation, Inc. of Muncie, where the men worked, did not return a phone call seeking comments. Workers on-site also declined to comment.\nTo learn more about how to participate in the planning for the Robert Byron Eury benefit concert visit http://groups.myspace.com/httprobert39sfriendsgroupsmyspacecom.
(08/30/06 2:21am)
A contractor who was critically injured by about 12,000 volts of electricity Saturday afternoon in an accident at the Super Wal-Mart under construction on West Second Street has been transferred to another Indianapolis hospital's burn unit.\nScott Shelton, 35, of Anderson, was moved Tuesday to the Riley Hospital for Children, located near Wishard. He is still listed in critical condition. A spokeswoman at Riley said that while Shelton was transferred for a particular reason, she could not release that information.\nTwo other contractors who were also severely burned in Saturday's accident -- Steve Abbott, 27, of Otterbein, Ind., and Robert Eury, 29, of Bloomington -- were also listed in critical condition Tuesday night at Wishard Memorial Hospital's burn unit. They are currently recovering from second- and third-degree burns that cover more than 90 percent of their bodies. \nThe men were part of a five-person team running electrical lines through the main breaker box of the building Saturday, when a piece of metal touched the electrical panel, Van Buren Township Fire Chief Tim Deckard said.\n"It was a piece of metal that came in contact with that -- what we call the busbar," Deckard said. A busbar usually consists of several large strips of copper or other metal that conduct electricity around a switchboard or fusebox.\n"At that point, the electrical panels inside that room became electrical sources, (and) they shorted," he said.\nThe electrical short inside the small back room sent an energy arc of about 4,000 volts sparking out of the panel, Deckard said, effectively setting the men on fire. Deckard said the arc lasted for about 20 seconds and came six to eight feet out from the box. \n"They were not electrocuted," Deckard said. "They did not physically come in contact with electricity. Their injuries were sustained from fire, not electrocution." \nThe three burn victims were life-flighted to Wishard that afternoon. The other two men on the team, Craig Dodds and Casey Shepherd, were both near the doorway of the room and received only minor injuries, which were treated at Bloomington Hospital. Their ages and hometowns were not released.\nThe Van Buren Township Fire Department's investigation into the cause of the accident is still ongoing. The company the men were working for will not be released to the public until the investigation is completed.\nJason Wetzel, a spokesperson from Wal-Mart's corporate office, expressed concern for the injured men. \n"Of course anyone who works for or with Wal-Mart is our first concern," Wetzel said. "We put their health and wellness above all else. We wish them a speedy recovery, and we are glad no one else has been injured."\nThe Monroe County Sheriff's Department Deputy Randy Jacobs was unable to be reached for comment regarding the accident.
(08/28/06 3:56pm)
Five contractors were injured Saturday afternoon -- three of them critically -- in an electrical accident while they were working on the new Wal-Mart store that is currently under construction. The accident severely burned three and injured two others after they were shocked with roughly 12,000 volts of electricity, the Van Buren Township Fire Department said.\nThree of the workers were transported to the burn unit at Wishard Memorial Hospital in Indianapolis. Two others received minor injuries and were treated at Bloomington Hospital Saturday.\nNames were only released for two of the victims, as police were still trying to notify family members of the other men's injuries.\nSteve Abbott, 27, of Otterbein, Ind., and Scott Shelton, 35, of Anderson, Ind., were both still in critical condition Sunday night at Wishard.\nAn employee in the burn unit said the men received severe second- and third-degree burns covering more than 90 percent of their bodies. \nThe Van Buren Township Fire Department responded to the initial emergency call, which came in at about 3 p.m.\nVan Buren Deputy Chief Rusty Clark was on the scene Saturday and said the men involved in the incident were badly burned but alert.\n"It was a lot of electricity," Clark said, noting that the men were working on the service line to the building, where all of the electricity needed to power a fully functional store originates from. \nClark, who worked with emergency medical personnel to care for the men, said the workers were removed from the building after Duke Energy shut off the electrical current.\nOne of the fire department's captains is now investigating the cause of the incident.\nMonroe County Sheriff's Deputy Randy Jacobs was not immediately available for comment regarding the accident.\nThe new Wal-Mart is being built just west of the current location on West Second Street.\nManagers at the current Wal-Mart store would not comment on the injuries.\nWal-Mart's corporate office did not return a call regarding the incident as of press time.
(08/28/06 3:11am)
A lawsuit filed against IU and several members of the IU Police Department by a former student was dismissed earlier this month after an eight-month legal battle. \nMonroe County Circuit Judge E. Michael Hoff dismissed the lawsuit Aug. 10, after former IU student Kathryn Faster and the University both agreed to dismiss the lawsuit. \nThe settlement agreement shows that Faster agreed to the dismissal on the grounds that both her attorney David Colman and Monroe County Prosecutor Carl Salzmann would meet in an attempt to expunge her record. \nThe agreement states that regardless of whether Faster was successful in clearing her record, she would still dismiss the lawsuit. \nFaster filed the lawsuit in December, claiming that she was publicly humiliated after being falsely arrested in 2003. The charges were later dropped, but Faster spent nine hours in jail and her record still shows she was arrested.\nThe lawsuit, which asked for $350,000, said that Faster had been falsely arrested on charges of fraud and for falsely informing police, following an investigation by IU police into the theft of her bank card. The University denied the claims of the suit. \nIn the initial lawsuit, Faster said her hometown bank account became overdrawn in 2003, and when she could not find her debit card, she contacted her bank and was told to file a police report.\nWhen she reported the card missing to the IUPD in October 2003, Faster also provided the police with a list of charges on her card. \nIn her lawsuit she claimed officers assumed all the charges she submitted were fraudulent, though Faster did not tell police whether the charges were made by her. When police investigated the list, they obtained a security tape showing Faster withdrawing money from an ATM.\nPolice believed this proved Faster falsified the fraudulent activity they arrested her, the lawsuit said.\nAlso named in the lawsuit were IUPD officers Deborah Delay, Gregory McClure, Matthew Keithley and Brice Boembeke.\nColman and lawyers for IU did not return calls seeking comments as of press time.
(08/23/06 3:13am)
A judge summoned more than 300 people to the Morgan County Courthouse on Friday, marking the beginning of the jury selection process for the trial of the 2000 murder of then-IU student Jill Behrman. John R. Myers II, 30, of Ellettsville, was indicted for the crime in April. \nThe trial is scheduled to begin Oct. 16 and will run through Saturdays to expedite the process. \nThe extensive screening process included a 16-page questionnaire potential jurors were required to fill out. \nSuperior Court Judge Chris Burnham asked how much the prospective jurors knew about the case through local or national news coverage and he also read the grand jury indictment to the candidates.\nThe questionnaire included inquiries regarding conflicts with moral, religious and political beliefs, as well as time availability and medical conditions. One full-page question, which was whited-out for the media due to its connection to the confidential grand jury investigation, asked potential jurors if they knew or were related to a list of potential witnesses.\nMembers of the jury and alternates will be sequestered together for the duration of the trial to ensure jury integrity, which could last up to four weeks, according to the questionnaire. Morgan County will pay for all meals and lodging, and recreational activities and outings will be arranged for jurors as needed.\nThe potential jurors were informed they would be contacted within the next two to three weeks if they need to appear for jury selection Oct. 2 and 3. The candidates were ordered not to read or listen to any media regarding the trial. In addition, the judge ordered potential jurors not to try to do any of their own "investigating" in regards to the case, under penalty of being held in contempt of court. \nBehrman disappeared May 31, 2000, after she went for a morning bicycle ride in the Bloomington area. Her parents, IU employees Eric and Marilyn Behrman, reported her missing that day but searchers only recovered her bike. Two years later, in 2003, hunters found Behrman's skeletal remains in rural Morgan County, in a wooded area near Paragon, Ind. \nIn March 2002, police and FBI thought they had a break in the case when local resident Wendy Owings confessed that she, along with two friends, Alisha Sowders and Uriah Clouse, had accidentally hit Behrman with their truck, wrapped her body in plastic and dumped her in Salt Creek, which was subsequently drained in the search for her. After the discovery of Behrman's body in Morgan County, Owings recanted her statement.\nJohn Myers became a person of interest for the Indiana State Police in December 2004. Many of the details of the grand jury investigation, which include interviews with over 90 witnesses, remain sealed.
(08/22/06 9:12pm)
More than 300 people were summoned to the Morgan County Courthouse on Friday, marking the beginning of the jury selection process for the trial of the 2000 murder of then-IU student Jill Behrman. John R. Myers II, 30, of Ellettsville, was indicted for the crime in April this year. \nSuperior Court Judge Chris Burnham asked how much the prospective jurors knew about the case through local or national news coverage and also read aloud the grand jury indictment to the candidates.\nMembers of the jury and alternates will be sequestered together for the duration of the trial to ensure jury integrity. Morgan County will pay for all meals and lodging, and recreational activities and outings will be arranged for jurors as needed.\nThe potential jurors were informed they would be contacted within the next two to three weeks if they need to appear for jury selection Oct. 2 and 3. \nThe trial will begin Monday, Oct. 16, and will run through Saturdays to expedite the process.