The history of the land beneath the south I-465 and I-65 interchange
- Mark Belloni
- Apr 6
- 19 min read
If you’ve ever driven east on I-465 south of Indianapolis and taken the exit onto I-65, you’ve likely noticed this stately white house perched on a hill. It's so close to the interstate that it’s impossible not to wonder why it’s there.
The house is a relic of a bygone era, when the area now dominated by the massive I-465 and I-65 interchange was a rural retreat, with country estates built by well-off Indianapolis residents standing alongside the modest homes of middle-class families. Despite the sprawl of modern infrastructure, the house remains one of the last visible traces of what this landscape once was.
In this blog post, I invite you on a short journey to uncover the history of the land beneath the interchange. It's a history that thousands of motorists pass over every day without even realizing it.
Establishing who was there
The land in question is located in Section 32 of Township 15 North, Range 4 East, wedged between Carson Avenue (formerly Shelbyville Road) and South Sherman Drive. The map below shows the location of the white house today (marked with a red X) in relation to the overall interchange.
The house’s Neoclassical style suggests it was built in the early 20th century. To trace its history, we turn to historic plat maps from that era. Two are available: one from around 1930 and another from 1931, shown below.
To orient yourself, Carson Avenue is the thick black line on both maps that travels from the upper left corner down through the center. Both maps indicate that the land the white house sits on today was owned by an individual named either J. T. Kelley or T. J. Kelley, depending on which map you're looking at. Since the maps also reveal the owners of the neighboring parcels of land, census records can be used to help identify this individual more concretely.
Searching the Kelley name in the 1930 census for Marion County, we quickly come across the family of Thomas J. Kelley, living off Shelbyville Road (today Carson Avenue) with his wife, Cora. What's more, Thomas and Cora’s immediate neighbors were enumerated as Robert E. Kelley, his wife Dorothy, and their young son, also named Thomas. Another neighbor, a widow, Maude E. Blackburn, lived nearby. These families can be identified on both maps above, confirming that the individual listed both as J. T. and T. J. is likely Thomas J. Kelley.
Another fact evident from the census record is that the two Kelley families and their neighbor, Maude Blackburn, were quite affluent. Both Thomas and Robert’s families owned homes valued at $50,000, while Maude Blackburn’s home was valued at $40,000—equivalent to roughly $750,000 to $1,000,000 in today’s dollars.
Additionally, the census records show that each family had at least one servant in their household, with Thomas’s family employing both a servant and a gardener (note that the servants for the Kelley families, Sally Christmon and Ellen Pendelton, were Black women). Clearly, this was a small enclave of high-end estates; the next most valuable home in the surrounding area was valued at just $12,000.
Let’s take a closer look at each property, delve into their histories, and explore the landscape of this area before the construction of I-465 and I-65.
The Thomas & Cora Kelley property
Thomas J. Kelley became the president of the Advance Paint Company in Indianapolis in 1917. His son, Robert Kelley, helped run the business. The company was a major supplier of paints, varnishes, and stains for clients across the country. The factory and headquarters were located at the corner of South California and West Norwood Streets. Today, its location is a large parking lot to the southwest of Lucas Oil Stadium.
In an interview with The Indianapolis Star published on August 30, 1915, Thomas Kelley described what set his company apart from others:
"The Advance company boasts of the only varnish factory in Indiana which takes all the initial ingredients and works them into the finished product. Another feature of our business that has won the commendation of many manufacturers and individuals is our employment of none but expert varnishers, finishers, and furniture men as our salesmen. Being highly proficient in their line, these men act as advisers in sales, suggesting changes and not infrequently improving upon the first selection of buyers because of their superior knowledge of the business of finishing woods."
The Advance Paint Company continued to grow throughout the 1910s and 1920s. By the mid-1920s, Thomas and his wife, Cora, decided it was time to move from their home on College Avenue and build a residence that reflected their business success. They chose a 111-acre property southeast of the city, where, in 1926, they constructed a stately red-brick Neoclassical house on the highest point of the land.
The move caught the attention of The Indianapolis Star, which featured the Kelley home in its popular “Home Builder’s Department” section. The article, published on October 26, 1926, gives a vivid description of the location, emphasizing just how rural it was:
"A site of unusual beauty and interior decoration of more than ordinary charm distinguishes the suburban residence of Thomas J. Kelly on Carson avenue south of Troy avenue. If one attempted to direct a visitor to the house, it would be necessary to supplement this rather indefinite address by saying that the house stands at the summit of a hill reached by a shell road leading from the concrete highway, but one can not pass it without seeing it, for it overlooks not only Carson avenue but the surrounding country for miles in every direction, and whatever way one looks, the view is attractive.
Two tall brick pillars mark the entrance to the private driveway leading to the house, and on the left side of this driveway is a private fish pond that Mr. Kelly constructed by damming a small creek which flows through the estate. The dam adds to the beauty of the surroundings, and the curving driveway and wooded hillside lend additional charm."
The Kelley house, now painted white, is the same one you pass when taking the exit ramp from I-465 to I-65. Although it stands alone today, it once had two distinguished neighbors—now buried beneath the concrete and steel of the interchange.
The Eugene & Maude Blackburn property
Eugene Blackburn, husband of Maude Blackburn, founded the International Metal Polish Company with his two brothers, George and Robert, in 1904. The company began by producing silver and metal polish for household goods but quickly expanded into the automobile industry.
In 1923, the brothers built a new brick and cement factory where Quill Street met the old Belt Line Railroad, southeast of Fountain Square. The factory still exists today as part of Plastic Recycling Incorporated at 1910 South State Avenue (Quill Street no longer exists at this location). Although now painted a stark white and barely recognizable beneath a series of additions, the original factory can still be seen from Van Buren Street, looking north across the railroad tracks.
Speaking to The Indianapolis Star in its March 3, 1923, issue, Eugene Blackburn elaborated on the company's ties to the automobile industry and its international reach:
"Our growth has been gradual...with the coming of the automobile, people who used our silver and metal polishes commenced demanding auto body polishes, and we started manufacture to meet this demand. Our expansion has been natural, simply following the reputation we had built, and meeting new demands as the automobile business grew. Now Blue Ribbon polishes and products are sent to every land. We are one of the few firms in Indianapolis who have a Spanish correspondent, handling South American trade especially."
With the financial fortune brought by the international success of their metal polishes, the Blackburns set out to build a new home. They chose a 33-acre site immediately east of the Kelley estate and, in 1926, constructed a large Craftsman house with walls made of fieldstone and river rock. Like the Kelley home, the Blackburn residence was featured in the "Home Builder’s Department" section of The Indianapolis Star. It is highly likely that the Kelley and Blackburn houses were constructed around the same time; their features in the paper were just a week apart, and both homes were built by the same contractor.
The Blackburn house feature, published on November 7, 1926, echoed much of what the Kelley feature had said about the location:
"A type of house admirably suited to its suburban location has been recently built southeast of the city and just east of Carson avenue by Edward Newell for Eugene Blackburn. It stands some distance back from the road, at the summit of a ridge of ground overlooking the surrounding country for miles in every direction, and the arrangement of the house provides admirably for the enjoyment of this view, for on three sides, the north, south and east, there is a wide inclosed porch, from which French doors open into the rooms.
The exterior material, too, is well suited to the country house, for the walls are of native boulders, in the soft tones of slate and bluish- gray and the roof of asphalt shingles put on in thatched effect. The boulders for the walls were collected from the extensive grounds, comprising several acres, and a few of them were contributed by friends of the Blackburns and are cut with the initials of the contributors."
Now, there were two homes on the bluff above Carson Avenue. One more would soon join them.
The Robert & Dorothy Kelley property
At the time Thomas and Cora Kelley built their home in 1926, their son Robert was 28 and assisting his father in running the Advance Paint Company. Just three years later, in 1929, Robert and his wife, Dorothy, built their own house on the Kelley estate, just a couple hundred feet northeast of his parents' home. Built in an entirely different style, Robert and Dorothy's house reflected the French Norman variation of the Tudor Revival style.
The house, also featured in The Indianapolis Star’s “Home Builder's Department” on November 3, 1929, was described as follows:
"The stately residence of Mr. and Mrs. R. E. Kelly, situated south of Carson avenue in Lindbergh Highlands, is one of the most complete and modern homes of its type in the south part of Indianapolis. It is of English design and constructed of brick with stone trim. The house rests upon a high bluff which affords a splendid view of the landscape from the open terrace on the front. F. M. Bartholomew & Son, the builders, have embodied in the Kelly residence convenient features for every room. The place is reached by a private driveway which winds off Carson avenue across the lowlands and up the slope to the two-car garage under the house."
Locating the Kelley and Blackburn properties on historical aerials
In the 1937 high-altitude aerials below, the rural surroundings of the Kelley and Blackburn estates come into focus:
The yellow square above outlines the Kelley and Blackburn estates and, when enlarged below, reveals specific details about the properties:
Carson Avenue runs diagonally from northwest to southeast, with a long, winding drive extending eastward. Lick Creek flows parallel to this drive to the north. On a bluff above, the homes of the Kelley and Blackburn families overlook the landscape. At the time this aerial photograph was taken, Cora Kelley and Eugene Blackburn were no longer living at their estates; Cora had passed away in 1930 and Eugene in 1929.
The drives to both Kelley houses are lined with trees, creating an elegant approach. One can imagine slowly traveling these shaded lanes, the stately homes gradually emerging from the landscape. The aerial photograph hints at the grandeur of the Kelley estates in their prime. Behind the Thomas & Cora Kelley house, a formal English garden is visible. Between the drives to the two Kelley houses, an elaborate outdoor space appears to feature a series of ponds and terraces.
The Blackburn house, however, seems to be placed in a more natural setting—no gardens or prominent features are visible. The drive leading to the house is less developed than those leading to the Kelley homes. These aspects of the Blackburn property align with the style of the house; Craftsman homes were designed to harmonize with their natural surroundings, so it makes sense that the Blackburns preferred a more natural setting for their fieldstone house.
The land surrounding the Kelley and Blackburn estates
The Kelley and Blackburn estates were situated between two other developments from the first half of the 20th century. To the south, the Lindbergh Highlands subdivision was platted in 1928, while to the north, the Lake Shore Country Club was established in 1936.
Lindbergh Highlands
In August 1927, aviator Charles Lindbergh stopped in Indianapolis during a national tour. Just three months earlier, he had completed the first non-stop solo transatlantic flight from New York to Paris, catapulting him to international fame. During his visit, he spoke at a banquet at the Columbia Club, hosted for Indianapolis businessmen. It’s easy to imagine Thomas and Robert Kelley, as well as Eugene Blackburn, among the guests. Another likely attendee was Fred Cline, a prominent Indianapolis real estate broker and businessman.
Cline had no intention of missing out on the Lindbergh sensation sweeping the nation. The following year, in 1928, he developed the Lindbergh Highlands subdivision—likely a strategic move to capitalize on the aviator’s widespread fame and the excitement surrounding his achievements. The subdivision, advertised as bordering "rich, high-class estates," was platted immediately to the south of the Kelley and Blackburn properties. It contained a total of 119 lots, though growth was initially slow. By 1941, only around 25 homes had been constructed.
Although Cline touted the nearby Kelley and Blackburn estates for marketing purposes, Lindbergh Highlands was very much a middle-class subdivision. Many of its earliest homes from the late 1920s and early 1930s still stand today, including a handful built in the Minimal Traditional style. Many contain elements of the Tudor Revival and English Cottage styles; examples of these can be seen at 3130 Chamberlin Drive, 3125 Chamberlin Drive, 3105 Byrd Drive, and 4635 Carson Avenue. Other early houses include 3105 Lindbergh Drive, 3205 Lindbergh Drive, 3125 Lindbergh Drive, and 3315 Byrd Drive.
Lake Shore Country Club
Country clubs had been a part of the social scene for members of Indianapolis' elite since at least 1891, when the city's first club, the Indianapolis Country Club, was incorporated. At least four more clubs were founded between 1891 and 1925, including Highland, Broadmoor, Hillcrest, and Meridian Hills.
All of these clubs were located to the north of Indianapolis, leaving little option for those on the south side of the city. Thomas Kelley sought to remedy this with his 111-acre property. In 1936, construction was completed on Lake Shore Country Club, located on the open land to the north of the Kelley and Blackburn estates. Thomas Kelley, having founded and developed the club himself, served as its first president. The Indianapolis Sunday Star announced the opening of the new club in its June 21, 1936 issue:
"The opening of the Lake Shore Country Club recently has brought to the suburbs of Indianapolis one of the most attractive and modern developments of its kind in the middle West....The clubhouse faces a lake which covers about eight acres. The lake is with bass, blue gills, and crappies. Boating is permitted on the lake.
A nine-hole golf course surrounds the clubhouse. Other sports include horseback riding, tennis and handball. The club is planning to build a large swimming pool and wading pond, Mr. Kelly announced.
The clubhouse is built of timber and stone. Its exterior is stained dark, and the interior is finished with various kinds of decorated woods. An open concrete terrace provided with gayly colored tables and chairs faces the lake. The clubhouse includes a spacious lobby, two dining rooms, modern kitchen, dance floor and lounge. The basement contains the rathskeller and locker and shower rooms."
Browsing Indianapolis newspapers from the 1930s and 40s, it's clear Lake Shore Country Club had a lively and active membership in its earliest years. Notices of dances, parties, dinners, meetings, and weekend golf outings were regularly published.
A complete picture from a 1941 aerial
In this 1941 high-altitude aerial photograph, the Kelley and Blackburn estates, now heavily wooded, can be seen sandwiched between the Lake Shore Country Club to the north and the Lindbergh Highlands subdivision to the south. Note how sparsely populated Lindbergh Highlands is. Looking closely at its northern portion, you can see where roads were planned but never developed, outlined by planted trees.
Notice, too, how the terraced area between the Kelley drives, visible in the 1937 aerial, is no longer present in the 1941 aerial. As street addresses became more standardized and common for the rural parts of Marion County, the Kelley and Blackburn estates came to be known as 4400 Carson Avenue, 4401 Carson Avenue, and 4405 Carson Avenue. Thomas Kelley died in 1938, and he and Cora's house was put up for sale in 1943. Maude Blackburn died in 1939, and the Blackburn house passed to Eugene's brother, George, and his wife, Ava.
The transformation of section 32's landscape
The Kelley and Blackburn homes, Lake Shore Country Club, and Lindbergh Highlands continued to stand on the east side of Carson Avenue through the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. The homes saw new families come and go, the country club remained a hub of the south side social scene, and Lindbergh Highlands experienced steady growth, expanding east to Sherman Drive. However, change was on the horizon that would forever alter the landscape.
Indiana State Road 100 and the birth of the interstate highway system
The history of a belt highway around Indianapolis dates back to the 1920s, when the idea was first introduced to the Indiana General Assembly. The project was abandoned during the 1930s due to the Great Depression but was resurrected at the start of World War II. Construction began in 1942, and by 1949, 22 miles of the eastern and northern segments—now known as Shadeland Avenue and 82nd/86th Street—were completed. That same year, the road was officially designated Indiana State Road 100.
During the 1950s, while routes were being surveyed for the west and south legs of Indiana 100, the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956 was passed. The act provided the framework for a 41,000-mile cross-country network of high-speed, limited-access highways designed to improve transportation, boost economic growth, and enhance national defense. It established a funding mechanism for a new interstate highway system, with the federal government covering 90% of construction costs, while state governments were responsible for the remaining 10%. Following its passage, Indiana continued its plans to complete the beltway around Indianapolis under this new funding model.
Routes for the south leg of Indiana 100 were already being planned in the late 1940s. The original route was planned to begin at High School Road and Thompson Road, southwest of the city, and extend east to Emerson Avenue. From there, it would head northeast toward Five Points, where it would connect with Shadeland Avenue, the already-completed east leg of the beltway. This early route originally bypassed the Kelley and Blackburn estates, Lake Shore Country Club, and Lindbergh Highlands. However, this would not last for long. Throughout the 1950s, the route was approved multiple times, only to be revised again, until it was finally laid directly through Section 32.
Community concerns and a contested route
In 1957, both the state and federal governments agreed on a route for the south leg of the belt highway. This new route had Indiana 100 traveling directly between Lake Shore Country Club and the Kelley and Blackburn estates. However, just a year later, Governor Harold Handley agreed to revisit the proposed route at the request of a group of concerned south-siders, as described in the September 3, 1958 issue of The Indianapolis News:
"The restudy [of the route] was requested by 11th District Republican Chairman H. Dale Brown, Lloyd Reddix, president of the Lake Shore Civic League, and state Senator Martha Burnett (R., Indianapolis). Reddix said about 600 south-side residents also have petitioned the Highway Department for a restudy of the proposed route.
The present proposed route, for which design plans are more than 50% completed, runs north of Thompson Road. Reddix said his group would like to see it located near Stop 11 Road, which is about 3½ miles south of the present proposed route... The south-side route has been the subject of heated controversy for a decade. The present proposed route was decided on after a public hearing in 1957 and accepted by the federal government, which will pay 90% of the cost of the highway...
The visiting group asking the restudy told Handley the present proposed route would pass through or close to about 200 expensive homes, including one that cost $100,000. The more southerly route proposed would affect only 60 homes."
The origins of the Lake Shore Civic League are unclear, but it is likely the group was organized in opposition to the proposed beltway route, as it is first mentioned in Indianapolis newspapers in 1958. Its president, Lloyd Reddix, certainly had reason to oppose the route. He lived at 2409 Redfern Drive, a ranch built in 1956 that sat immediately on the edge of the proposed route. Although it’s not specified, the "expensive home" costing $100,000 was likely one of the Kelley or Blackburn homes.
Despite this opposition, the route for the south leg of the new beltway—more commonly referred to as I-465 instead of Indiana 100 starting in the late 1950s—did not change. Instead, a new problem arose for south-siders: the proposed interchange between I-465 and I-65, the new north-south highway that would connect Indianapolis with Louisville, Kentucky. The open land that made up Lake Shore Country Club and the Kelley and Blackburn estates proved too tempting for the state to pass up for the massive interchange, which would place I-65 directly through the middle of Lindbergh Highlands, effectively splitting the subdivision in half.
Hearings on the location of the interchange took place in 1961 but ultimately went nowhere. The fate of the Kelley and Blackburn estates, Lake Shore Country Club, and Lindbergh Highlands was sealed. I-465 and I-65, along with their interchange, would be built on top of them.
Land acquisition and construction
In the early 1960s, the state began acquiring the right-of-way needed for construction. This is evident in the large number of public notices published in Indianapolis newspapers during 1962 and 1963, announcing the sale of parcels from Lindbergh Highlands by the state government.
After purchasing properties, the state often turned around and sold them in an effort to recoup as much of the cost as possible. Buyers typically dismantled the houses to salvage materials, though in some cases, entire houses were moved to new locations—whatever it took to clear the land for the new highway.
Bids for the 2.3-mile stretch of I-465 that would run from South Meridian Street to Carson Avenue were opened by the state in November 1961, and a $3.2 million contract was awarded shortly after. The contract for the I-465 and I-65 interchange was awarded in April 1963 for a total of $3.5 million. Three months prior, the Robert & Dorothy Kelley house and the Blackburn house were acquired by the state and put up for public auction. Miraculously, the Thomas & Cora Kelley house was positioned just outside of the right-of-way required for the interchange. Although the majority of its land was taken, the house was not.
On May 23, 1963, ground was broken for the new interchange on 35 acres previously owned by Lake Shore Country Club. The interchange proved disastrous for the south-side club, which had been opened in 1936 by Thomas Kelley, reducing its golf course to only four holes. Louie Annee, the club's owner in 1963, expressed his frustrations in the July 17, 1963 issue of The Indianapolis News:
"The highway has killed us... But 150 of our 400 members have stayed on, most of them to use our swimming pool — but a lot of them are playing our improvised four-hole course.
This has all been so unnecessary, too. If they had moved the cloverleaf [interchange] 400 feet east, we could have kept our nine holes...We presented them with an alternate plan when they first started talking about right-of-way, but as far as I know, they didn’t even consider it — so we’re stuck good and proper."
The News article continued, stating, "The grumbling roar of the bulldozers drowns out the noise from the swimming pool and has made the clubhouse business almost null and void." Construction continued through 1963 and 1964, with aerial photographs appearing in The Indianapolis Star showing the progress:
By the fall of 1964, construction was finished, and on October 15, Governor Matthew Welsh officially opened the completed southern leg of I-465. High-altitude aerial photographs from 1962 and 1966 show just how stark the transformation of the landscape was:
These two aerials speak for themselves. The Robert & Dorothy Kelley house and the Blackburn house are completely gone, Lake Shore Country Club is almost entirely devoured, and Lindbergh Highlands is split in two. The Thomas & Cora Kelley house made it out intact—but just barely.
The present day
Interstates and their interchanges are, relatively speaking, quite young in terms of history. But their inherent nature—imposing, solid, and seemingly permanent—makes it easy to forget they haven’t always been there. Before they dominated the landscape, the land they occupy was defined by other features. In the case of the I-465 and I-65 interchange, that land was defined by the Kelley and Blackburn estates, the Lake Shore Country Club, and the Lindbergh Highlands subdivision. Remnants of each still stand today, serving as tangible evidence of the past.
As of 2025, almost all traces of the Lake Shore Country Club are gone. The club declined slowly after the interstate claimed most of its land and ultimately burned down in 2001. The only visible remnant is a portion of its original eight-acre lake, now tucked within the center of an apartment complex that occupies the site. It’s easily mistaken for a modern retention pond—but it quietly holds a long history.
Lindbergh Highlands is still a south-side subdivision that many families call home. Houses from the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s stand proudly. But you can no longer drive from one side of the neighborhood to the other. Today, thanks to I-65, it’s a collection of dead-end streets. There’s a West Lindbergh Highlands and an East Lindbergh Highlands—but no longer just a Lindbergh Highlands.
And then, of course, there is the Thomas & Cora Kelley house, sitting just feet away from the exit ramp to I-65, which first got me wondering about the history of the land underneath the interchange. It’s the only structure left from the high-end estates of the Kelley and Blackburn families that once sat on a high bluff overlooking a sweeping panorama. Driving north on I-65, as you cross over I-465, another sweeping panorama comes into view. Not of a countryside, as the Kelley and Blackburn families experienced it, but of a maze of concrete and steel ribbons that twist and turn into the horizon.
A note on copyright
I relied heavily on newspapers published from the 1920s to 1960s to write this blog and at times have taken direct clippings from them. Between 1923 and 1977, under U.S. copyright law (specifically the 1909 Copyright Act), a published work had to include an explicit copyright notice in order to receive copyright protection.
This requirement applied to newspapers and to any individual content within them that the publisher wished to protect. Without such a notice, the work immediately entered the public domain upon publication. The copyright act of 1976, which became effective in 1978, implemented automatic copyright and dropped this requirement, but did not retroactively apply to newspapers that were printed with no explicit copyright notice between 1923 and 1977. See here and here for additional details.
For every newspaper used in this blog, I verified that both the newspaper issue itself and the specific content I took from it did not have explicit copyright notices, and therefore concluded they were now in the public domain.