Landmark offers a place where mind, body and soul find pleasure.
By Mark Bennett
Wearing stylishly retro clothes, Jennifer Roehm could have fit right in as a Headstone Friends shopper back in 1970.
But the 17-year-old from Clinton was scanning the vinyl record bins in that Terre Haute shop just this month. Wrapped in her arms were two used LPs. (For those born in the compact-disc era, "LPs" are long-playing records.) One was a rare 1983 album - Mighty Feeble - composed of music originally recorded on cassette tapes, which struck Roehm as curious. The other was "Rappin' Rodney," an improbable rap album by late comedian Rodney Dangerfield.
"VH1 said it was one of the worst albums ever made," Roehm explains with a broad smile.
Yes, Headstone Friends is home to an eclectic assortment of items - "records, tapes, CDs, and other pleasure accessories for your mind, body and soul" as its slogan says.
But the store on the corner of 12th and Poplar streets also is home to an atmosphere essentially unchanged since Jim Morrison was alive.
As the psychedelically painted door closes behind customers, the 21st century disappears, along with every glimmer of sunlight. Incense wafts through the dimly lighted air. And black-light posters glow from a room in one corner.
"It's great," Roehm says of the bygone ambiance. "You can tell these are people who love music and the culture around it. And everyone's friendly here."
And many of the Headstone Friends staffers are the same folks who served record-searching teenagers two or three decades ago.
Thirty years ago, Harold Foster was fresh out of the Army, back home in Terre Haute, listening to the Rose-Hulman radio station at 1 in the morning. The DJ plugged a record store (back then on Fifth Street) called Headstone Friends.
"So I hopped in my car and headed down to Fifth Street," recalls Foster.
He wound up with a job. Now 56, Foster has worked there ever since.
Co-worker Harry Dundas, 51, has been with Headstone "since the '70s - somewhere in there." Pat Kelley is another veteran, as is Judella Alvey, daughter of shop owners Jack and Connie Alvey. Judella, 30, who graduated first in her class with a psychology degree from Indiana State University in 1998, has worked there "about all my life. And there's nowhere else I'd rather be."
As Foster puts it, "It's just a job you look forward to going to. It's not a drudgery job. You see your friends."
Friends, as the shop's surname suggests, are the customers. Take that moment earlier this month when the featured album playing through the shop stereo - "The Best of The Doors" - suddenly stopped and was replaced by an Everclear CD. John Funk, a longtime customer, made the request.
"That's John," chuckles Dundas. "Every time he comes in, he makes us pull off what we're playing and put on whatever he wants."
Funk, who says he bought his first album - "KISS: Rock 'n' Roll Over" - at Headstone in 1976, clearly enjoys his visits.
"This is family," he says. "The camaraderie - they make you feel welcome, instead of an outcast."
Laurie Turner, a 34-year-old who drove from Shelburn to find a hard-to-get CD by rock band Buckcherry, agrees.
"It's kind of like you go back in the '60s and '70s. It's awesome," Turner says. "And it's like no one judges you in there."
That's because the clientele is so diverse. On one side of the store, a young couple watches their toddlers play with a bamboo rain stick. On the other, a fortysomething guy peers through the CD cases for a certain title.
"We get all kinds of people - little kids, old ladies, hippie people, rap people, people in three-piece suits," Judella says. "We get everybody."
Some return many years after their last visit. They quickly get reacquainted with Lovin' Spoonful 45s, incense burners, cigarette papers, wine botas, Oriental lanterns, fuzzy dice, harmonicas, and the newest release from Coldplay. A sign on the door says, "We still stock phonograph needles."
Once customers choose something, purchases are made by cash or check only. Credit cards and computers aren't used. Receipts are hand-written. And the inventory is jotted on 3-by-5 cards in 3-foot-long boxes. "It's cheaper, and we keep prices down by doing that," Foster explains. "It's easy. It's the way we've always done it."
Apparently, Headstone's friends like it that way.
"It's like a beacon in town," says Foster. "A lot of people leave Terre Haute and then come back, and they come here and we've never changed. It's like coming home."
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Tribune-Star/Jim Avelis |
| Searching: Sarah Rowe looks for a poster in Headstone Friends. Her dad Mike has been bringing her there since she was quite young. |
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HEADSTONE FRIENDS FAST FACTS
Established: 1970 (the sign out front reads 1969, but only because its painter said, "That sounds better.")
History: The store began as Headstone Imports on North Lafayette Avenue, owned by the Albright family. Jack Alvey and Mike Woodall brought records into the business, and later bought the store from the Albrights, changing its name to Headstone Friends. Eventually, Jack and Connie Alvey became sole proprietors and still own it. The shop moved from Lafayette to Fifth Street, to Wabash Avenue, and to its current location at 1142 Poplar St.
Murals on outside walls: The sign was painted by artist Jim Huntley. Local artist Edie Gray designed the storefront mural. A beloved former Headstone employee, the late Monty Montgomery, drew the dinosaurs on the east wall. And customers painted the north wall and the front door.
Inventory: New and used records, tapes and CDs, as well as "other pleasure accessories for your mind, body and soul."
Hours: Noon to 8 p.m., Monday through Saturday. Closed on Sundays.