Historically, this little corner of the state was the last area to be settled due to natural barriers and its swampy terrain at the southern tip of Lake Michigan. In the early days, the outsiders who were mostly interested in the Calumet Region were money-motivated industrialists and beauty-seeking botanists. As I've written many times, "Da Region" isn't only a popular slang term or home to the 219 area code.
It's an attitude. It's a calling card. It's a reputation.
(Read this column at NWI.com under a search for my name.) When you tell outsiders where you live, do you describe it as The Region? Do they actually know what this means? Do they already have a preconceived stereotype of who we are? "Ever since I have lived in the Region, I always thought I was in it.
But if you talk with people outside the Region, they don't think Portage is located in the Region," said Portage Mayor Austin Bonta. His insight, which I've heard from other Northwest Indiana residents through the years, is what prompted today's column. Since our discussion, I began asking this question to people who live in other parts of the state: What cities come to mind when you hear the Region? "Gary," one person replied.
"Hammond," another one said. "East Chicago," I was told. I began wondering how many other cities and towns here are considered part of the Region, or not.
How about Michigan City? Dyer? Chesterton? Valparaiso? Merrillville? Lowell? Crown Point? The list goes on. Perception is reality for most outsiders and, to be honest, for many Region residents as well. This misperception is reflected in the old joke that asks for the definition of a "Yankee.
" If you ask this question to anyone outside of the United States, it's likely defined as any American. If you ask this question to anyone in our country, it's likely someone who lives in the North. In the North, it's likely someone who lives in the East.
In the East, it's someone from Vermont. In Vermont, it's someone who eats pie for breakfast. It's all about personal perception and historical reputation, whether it's true or not.
This also may be true for how outsiders perceive the definition of a "Region resident." I wonder how many think it's an older guy from the Hessville neighborhood of Hammond who smokes Lucky Strikes, drinks Pabst Blue Ribbon, curses like Joe Pesci, talks like "Dis here about all of yous," and takes part in the Pierogi Fest parade every year wearing a coconut bra. "If so, I would still identify with that guy and I would defend him to his critics," Bonta told me.
Bonta's response is quintessential "The Region," whether you live in Hammond or Portage or anywhere else in this area. Our population demographics may be shifting from north Lake County to south Lake County and Porter County and other areas, but our collective identity should spread with it. Otherwise, it will eventually fade away like the once swampy terrain we affectionately call home.
Timing is everything On June 19, Lucinda Robb's 9-year-old son was struck and pinned underneath a truck for what seemed like hours. By the time she arrived at the scene, it swarmed with emergency responders and vehicles. "Are you the mother?" a police officer asked her.
"Yeah, yeah!" she replied, trying to get a glimpse of her son, Kaleb Zecevich. He was struck at the intersection of Valparaiso and Monroe streets in the Hilltop neighborhood of Valparaiso. Robb, who lives nearby, found out about the incident when one of her son's friends ran into her home screaming the news.
The first responders to that scene were not police, firefighters or EMTs. It was a man named Ash Lemp and his girlfriend, Olivia Nielson, who live near that intersection. "I was the one who called 911 that day," she told me.
Lemp prevented bystanders from moving the child, and he helped initiate aid by creating a tourniquet with someone's belt to staunch the bleeding of the boy's serious leg injury. The couple's efforts are laudable but so is the backstory why they were there in the first place. "In an ironic twist of fate, we were only present at the scene because we were late leaving the house looking for my boyfriend's belt that we never ended up finding," Nielson said.
Contact Jerry at [email protected] .
Find him on Facebook and other socials. Opinions are those of the writer..
