By Beth Clark
The historic Kincaid House, once a fixture of Fishers on 106th Street, is safe in its new location on USA Parkway. The dust has settled, the excitement has dissipated and the history of the house has been told – well, almost. From the not-too-distant past rises an entertaining story about the house and its tenant during the Blizzard of ’78.
This year’s polar vortex may not yet be upon us, but we can easily imagine the preparations local resident Mike Latty undertook when he learned of the impending arrival of the Blizzard of 1978. Latty, today an engineer with the Noblesville Fire Dept. with 28 years of service behind him, was at the time a young man working for a water softening company, renting the old farmhouse on 106th Street, now called the Kincaid House, from owner Donald Kincaid for $125 a month.
The house had drafty windows, exposed brick walls and wooden floors, but it had electricity, a television and a radio. Latty was following instructions on the radio the night before the blizzard, caulking windows, stocking cupboards and ensuring enough fuel oil for the furnace and wood for the stove in the house.
He awoke the morning of the blizzard to howling winds, blinding snow and drifts blocking the interstate. The landscape was desolate, with only farmland and empty roads around him. Or so he thought.
Shortly after dawn, in the midst of the blizzard, Latty heard the doorbell ring. He let it ring again, and again, to be sure he heard correctly. Not one for ghost stories, he hesitated only a minute before answering the door, to find two older gentlemen, in dark suits, collars turned up, no overcoats, standing on the stoop, hoping for shelter from the storm.
They had made a wrong turn down 106th off of Allisonville Road, and their car was stuck in a drift just past the railroad tracks. Latty invited them in. They had a story about needing to pick up a family nearby and after this initial introduction, they never said much else, despite Latty’s efforts at conversation.
The strangers stayed the night. Latty, who had only purchased enough food for himself for a few days, was able to call for provisions mid-blizzard. A caravan of snowmobiles from the Fishers Volunteer Fire Dept. arrived with extra supplies.
Fortunately the power never went off, but the television did fail and Latty recounted the most uncomfortable 24 hours he ever spent with two reticent strangers who said barely a word. To escape the silent shroud of mystery in the house, he made sure to check on the Kincaid horse in the barn on the property as often as possible.
The sun shone the next morning. Plows came through along 106th, and Latty’s brother arrived to help dig out the men’s car from the drifts and send them on their way. Latty never did learn their names.
