The Donut Shoppe That Never Was : Batesville Indiana

Art Prints

The Hard Facts Concerning Opening a Donut Shop

A good friend of mine, Harold Gardner and I once had a pie in the sky idea and contemplated opening a donut shop. After years of discussion and planning we decided it would not be a wise thing to do.

The first problem we encountered was the fact that it would take a lot of dough, a lot more dough than any one could possibly raise.
No doubt, one could make a lot of bread, however, one mistake in judgment and heads could roll.
Being this was in the late 60s we even talked of hiring a rock band, “The Danish Twist” to entertain the patrons while they dined, wanting to be successful, we thought that would put the icing on the cake.

However, we were having trouble finding anyone crusty enough to be willing to invest in our pastry pleasures. Every one was afraid we were going to lay an egg.

After much discussion, the project was scrapped as we just didn’t want to go in the hole. There were just more problems than any one would kneed. It just wouldn’t pan out.

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Gary has been a writer/ photographer for over 20 years, specializing in nature, landscapes and studying native cultures.Besides visiting most of the United States, he has traveled to such places as Egypt, the Canary Islands, much of the Caribbean. He has studied  the Mayan Cultures in Central America, and the Australian Aboriginal way of life.Photography has given him the opportunity to observe life in many different parts of the world!

He has published several books about the various cultures he has observed.

For more information and a link to his hard cover and Ebooks, and contact information: please check his

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doors unlocked I grew up in the 50’s on a small dairy farm in southeastern Indiana.

Financially, times were hard, my dad and mom had purchased an extremely impoverished farm when I was three years old. We, along with my brother, who came along later, spent the next several years restoring it to a more productive state. The farm was so over grown with weeds that after living there for a while, dad had time to mow the weeds around the barn and lo and behold! He found a hog house no one knew was there.

The soil was totally depleted, the first year’s twelve acre corn crop yielded a whopping two hundred bushels of corn. Hard to live on that. Fortunately, about that same time, turkey raising came into fashion, the following year dad purchased and raised 1000 turkeys. The resulting turkey by-product increased the corn yield from 200 bushels to 1200 bushels on that very same field.

This was a time when neighbors were neighbors, we used each others farm equipment and tools like they were our own, if dad couldn’t find a tool or wrench, it was probably over at the neighbors. As a result, while picking up one our own tools he would return one of theirs.

Our doors were never locked, no one would break in and steal anything. In fact, if one happened to be away it was desired(it almost became a state law) that the neighbors had to stop by and check the house to make sure everything was OK.

Every one had a gun, we had several neatly stacked in the corner of the kitchen, an ample supply of ammunition, and fireworks) could be found in the cabinet drawer.

I started hunting with a 22 rifle when I was about 9, a rifle given to me for Christmas by my parents. Did I or any kid I know pick up or use a fire arm without permission of their parents, are you kidding? We would have gotten skun alive. Back in those days parental authority and respect meant something, and the only rights a child had were the rights his parents gave him. So, what’s wrong with that?

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