Lost Jacket Makes a Good Story to Tell

Hoosier Perspectives

It wasn't the jacket, it was what was in it!

Published on: December 9, 2013

If you know anyone connected to Ripley's Believe it or Not, you might want to clip this one out and send it to them. I'm not sure I believe it.

There's one other caveat before you laugh at me. All those who have left a coat or jacket and had to go back and get it, raise your hands. Anyone with their hands down can go read another item, because you'll never believe this!

I recently attended a major rollout of a new food and health corridor to bring those types of businesses to Indiana. The Lt. Governor was there, as was the new Director of Agriculture, (although he hadn't been officially announced … it was the worst kept secret in the room). Captains of Indiana industry like Sonny Beck Of Beck's Hybrids, Beth Bechdol of Ice Miller, Don Orr of JBS United and Mike Lemmon of Whiteshire Hamroc, were also there.

It was held on the 48th floor of the Chase Tower off Monument Circle in downtown Indianapolis. I would have just as soon it had been held on a farm in a toolshed.

After the meeting I was intent on talking to a couple people. Then I scurried to the elevator to head home and write things for you to read. I parked several blocks away, because I don't like big parking fees (OK, I'm cheap, and I needed the exercise.)  I get to the car and realized I didn't have my jacket. I had a sweater on, so it hadn't felt that cold on the walk back. Surely I didn't leave it? I even looked on the car hood – a well-known place for me to leave things. No, I forgot it.

It was an older, lightweight jacket and for a moment, I toyed with the idea of not going back. Then I remembered my glasses were in the jacket pocket! I'm not blind as a bat, but if I were a bat, I wouldn't fly straight without them. So I walked back.

I wound through the maze to get to the tower elevator. Some guy was getting on, and I asked him to hit the floor. "Oh, sorry, dude, it must be locked out – it won't light up." He got off. You don't find dudes in farm shops, but he was right. It wouldn't light up or go up.

So I went back to the lobby. I tracked down some nice-looking young lady wearing a security jacket and explained my predicament.

"Yes sir, let me call the person that can get you on the floor," she said. OK, I thought, I suppose they have a reason for not wanting me to go up by myself.

"Sir, she's not answering," the guard said. "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"What do you mean you can't help me?" I asked.

"I left my coat, and it has my glasses in it. The meeting just concluded 20 minutes ago. I'm from out of town, and I need my glasses now."

"Sir, you can go down to that room and talk to my boss, head of security," she said.

I started to go, when she said, "But he's going to tell you the same thing. Nobody can get on that floor except the lady that rents it to hold events. It's part of her contract."

Perplexed, I asked the young lady to give her a call.

"I did, and she didn't answer," the guard said. "She often doesn't answer when we need her. Here's her card, you can call her yourself."

This had to be a dream – more like a nightmare.

 "Why don't you have her bring the coat down to security when she shows up," I suggested. "Better yet, can you guys ship it to me?"

"Oh no, she would have to do that. We have nothing to do with that room," she retorted.

I stood there dumbfounded. "You're telling me your own security in a bank, no less, can't get access to the floor and the room where my coat is?"

"I'm sorry sir, but that's the way it is."

By that time I was just thankful I hadn't left my camera. In that case, I would still be standing there, or in jail for disturbing the peace. By the way, I left a message, but the fine lady who rents the floor never called me.

I was long overdue for an eye exam. The glasses weren't in the best shape. So I decided to take my losses and quit before I got further behind. Man, it was a long walk back to the car.

If you can top this story or explain it, let me know. It's a head-scratcher to me!