Read time: 12 min.

My Quaker ancestors lived in southwestern Henry County. Helping my mom piece together their story has drawn me to Raysville time and again, and I’ve always been struck by the perplexing Star Boulevard just east of town. Its narrow, curving lane splits off from the old National Road only to vanish into a pair of disconnected segments. Was it an old alignment of an early highway? A forgotten interurban line? Perhaps the road was something else entirely. Besides that, how’d the street get its unusual name? Why’s it in two pieces? Needless to say, I’ve wondered about Star Boulevard for years.

As it turns out, the story of Star Boulevard begins with the story of Raysville, and it all starts at the National Road. The early highway that connected Cumberland, Maryland, with Vandalia, Illinois, was carved through southern Henry County in 1827¹. Nestled among rolling hills and commanding vistas², Raysville was founded along the road five years later. Unfortunately, industry favored the neighboring community of Knightstown.

Still, the railroad arrived in Raysville during the early 1850s³. It was completed in 1854⁴. From the start, the old Indiana Central’s path curved sharply around the town’s eastern edge⁵ instead of taking a direct route northeast⁶ Laying down that extra trackage wasn’t cheap, but it helped the railroad avoid the steep climb of Raysville Hill- a challenge that early steam engines like the Samuel Hanna, the Old Wayne, and the Dublin Money⁷ could hardly have handled. 

The curve kept the railroad between fifteen and twenty-five feet lower in elevation than a straight route would have, which made all the difference for those old locomotives⁸. Unfortunately, sharp angles where the tracks crossed Raysville’s streets turned into deadly traps⁹. Even the interurban avoided a direct crossing due to the danger¹⁰! Each casualty -like that of Sylvester Adams, who was flung 300 feet west of the tracks after he tried to beat the train¹¹– left its mark on the town and the railroaders who passed through¹². Over time, it became tragically clear that something had to change.

By 1909, the deadly curve at Raysville was a problem that the railroad’s then-owners, the Pennsylvania Railroad’s Pan Handle Line¹³, could no longer ignore. Their solution was a new viaduct to carry the tracks safely over the National Road to bypass the treacherous bend altogether¹⁴. Construction began in 1910¹⁵, but the old railroad bed and bridge remained.

The old rail route helps explain why what’s now called Star Boulevard curves away from the National Road, but some questions remain unanswered. For starters, why was it transformed into a street? Why does it terminate in both directions? How did the boulevard come to bear such an out-of-place name? The answers unravel a story deeper than just a curve, and they’re tied to none other than the Indianapolis Star newspaper.

In 1923, a New York syndicate led by millionaire Thomas L. Shea purchased nearly a thousand acres in the Buck Creek Valley around Raysville¹⁶. The transaction set off a wave of rumors: some whispered that the land would become the site of a new Catholic Monastery¹⁷, while others were convinced it would be turned into a winter home for the Hagenbeck circus¹⁸! There were even talks of a grand hotel and sanitarium or quaint cottages for a summer resort. Things truly took a turn when Ben Lawrence, the paper’s managing editor, was spotted traipsing around the property¹⁹. 

As it turns out, businessmen representing the Star had been scouting sites for a planned resort for more than a year before they came to Raysville. The reason for the newspaper’s involvement in such a project seems suspicious to me, but advertisements in the Star provided some reasoning: “It had been appreciated for many years that the people of Indianapolis had no place where they could go to spend the summer or a vacation of a few weeks²⁰,” wrote Andrew Hepburn, a young reporter who later became the travel editor of Look Magazine. 

“The Indianapolis Star conceived the plan of developing a summer resort near Indianapolis,” Hepburn continued, “where the owning of property and the building of summer cottages would be within the means of every wage earner, where comfort and health would be combined with convenience and which would be large enough to satisfy the needs of the thousands of city-weary folk in Indianapolis who have been unable to afford the more exclusive and expensive resorts far away from the city²¹.” 

As part of the project, the old Pan Handle railroad bed was paved, rechristened Star Boulevard, and reshaped into the primary entrance into the Star’s Knightstown Lake²². Meanwhile, the stone railroad bridge was transformed into the spillway of a dam²³. Still, progress was slow- although the Star built cottages as the lake filled, only two of its surrounding roads were drivable. Fortunately, the unfinished roads didn’t seem to matter much, as Knightstown Lake’s first lots -several hundred- sold out within weeks²⁴.

“No newspaper has ever before made such a remarkable offer to its readers,” the Star wrote, “and no newspaper offer has ever been so eagerly received as the Knightstown Lake²⁵.” Another ad continued, “The Indianapolis Star desires more readers. This is a subscription offer, primarily, not a real estate transaction…it is the idea to distribute the property among as many as possible in order to increase the number of readers, and thereby widen the scope of The Star’s activity as a newspaper²⁶.”

Taken at face value, the Star’s description of the project makes me arch an eyebrow. Why would a newspaper sink millions into a real estate development just to boost readership? There’s got to be more to the story. A powerhouse like The Indianapolis Star wouldn’t back a development like Knightstown Lake unless there was something bigger at stake, right? Was it a business move wrapped up as a community project, or was there a deeper motive lurking beneath the surface? After a few years of speculation, I’m still not sure.

At any rate, that’s how Star Boulevard got its unusual name. By 1926, the area was buzzing with excitement. Lots cost just $58.50 (about $1,100 today), and two hundred members of the Knightstown Lake Landowners Association gathered for a meeting to commemorate the completion of a brand-new swimming pool²⁷. Unfortunately, the celebration didn’t last long: by the following year, hundreds of owners had already fallen behind on their payments, which cast a shadow over the enterprise²⁸. 

Knightstown Lake’s decline was swift and steady. Its water briefly receded in 1941, when the once-thriving resort was known simply as the “old Knightstown Lake development²⁹.” Eventually, roads around the property fell into disuse and disrepair³⁰. In 1963, the Knightstown Chamber of Commerce was offering 100×100 foot homesites at the old lake for just $750³¹. 

Over the years, the origins of Knightstown Lake and Star Boulevard slipped into mystery³². Only about seven houses ringed the six-acre site in 1995 when the dam began to fail. Cracks spread through its massive stone arch, allowing water to seep through in an ominous warning³³. A bitter dispute erupted when repairs became unavoidable: homeowners insisted Henry County owned the dam, while the county pushed back and claimed it was the homeowners’ responsibility! With the Knightstown Lake Landowners Association long defunct, the dispute eventually escalated into a lawsuit. Unfortunately, the danger remained.

One way or another, the lake’s troubled past seemed destined to rise to the surface as the aging dam loomed as a threat. Whether triggered by the fury of a heavy storm or the sudden shock of a “sunny day” collapse³⁴, a catastrophic flood from old Knightstown Lake could have swept across modern-day US-40³⁵! Still, uncertainty over the dam’s ownership stalled any progress until 1995, when officials finally closed 400 feet of Star Boulevard to assess the risk³⁶.

State inspectors quickly declared the structure to be in “perilous³⁷” condition, and the dam’s fate was all but sealed. With disaster looming and conditions deteriorating, Indiana’s Department of Natural Resources had no choice but to take drastic action. In a final, desperate attempt to prevent catastrophe, they ordered the lake to be drained in 2004³⁸. After years of warnings and growing concerns, the DNR opened bids for Public Works Project No. E061080, which sealed the dam’s fate³⁹.

For locals, the project brought both relief and reflection. The lake remained a cherished landmark even as it deteriorated⁴⁰, but its aging dam had become a ticking time bomb. At any rate, its destruction marked the end of an era. As the water receded, it revealed more than just an empty basin- it exposed a landscape altered dramatically.

It’s been twenty years since Knightstown Lake was drained, but Star Boulevard remains as a poignant reminder of the past. What began as a simple railroad bypass evolved into the grand entrance to a lakeside resort, a bustling road that welcomed countless visitors to the water’s edge. Now partially abandoned, the fragmented thoroughfare speaks to the rise and fall of the place it once served. Walking along its crumbling roadbed and peering down at the dried-up lake was nothing short of eerie- the faded asphalt and brush beneath my feet crackled with the weight of a thousand forgotten stories

I never imagined there was such an intricate story waiting to be uncovered when I first laid eyes on Star Boulevard. As I dug deeper into its puzzle, one question kept lingering in the back of my mind: why did the Indianapolis Star get involved in such an unusual project -a resort- in the first place? There had to be more to the story, but I still don’t have a better answer. Maybe someday!

Sources Cited
1 History of Henry County, Indiana (1884). The Inter-State Publishing Co. [Chicago]. Book. 
2 Hazzard, G. (1906). Hazzard’s History of Henry County Indiana, Volume II. 3 George  Hazzard [New Castle]. Book.
3 Morgan, R. (1951, August 2). In The Good Old Days. The Tri-County Banner [Knightstown]. p. 8. 
4 Pennsylvania Railroad (n.d.). Encyclopedia of Indianapolis [Indianapolis]. Web. Retrieved March 16, 2024.
5 Map of Henry County, Indiana (1857). Harwood & Watson [New Castle]. Map. 
6 Knightstown Lake Folks Find Cause Of Low Waters (1941, September 12). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1.
7 “Old Raysville, A Paper Read At The Annual Home-Coming (1936, August 28). The Tri-County Banner [Knightstown]. Pp. 1-8.
8 Beacon. (2023). [Raysville railroad location topography]. Schneider Geospatial. Retrieved March 16, 2024, from the Beacon web app.
9 Taking Up Old Tracks (1911, November 17). The Tri-County Banner [Knightstown]. p. 7.
10 Traction Contract Let (1902, August 8). The Tri-County Banner [Knightstown]. p. 6. 
11 Cars Kill At Raysville Crossing (1909, May 28). The Knightstown Banner. p. 7. 
12 (See footnote 9). 
13 Pennsylvania Railroad (n.d.). Encyclopedia of Indianapolis [Indianapolis]. Web. Retrieved March 16, 2024. 
14 Manning Has to Move (1909, August 6). The Tri-County Banner [Knightstown]. p. 7.
15 (See footnote 9). 
16 Now Have 350 Acres (1923, March 30). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1. 
17 Syndicate Closing Options (1923, February 23). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1. 
18 (See footnote 17). 
19 (See footnote 17). 
20 Knighstown Lake; A Resort (1923, October 19). The Knightsville Banner. p. 1. 
21 (See footnote 20). 
22 New Route National Road (1934, February 16). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1.
23 Knightstown Lake Folks Find Cause Of Low Waters (1941, September 12). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1.
24 Knightstown Lake Catches Eves of Thousands Who Indulge in Vision of Happier Vacation Days (1923, October 21). The Indianapolis Star. p. 32.
25 Hepburn, A. H. (1923, May 13). A Beautiful Summer Resort For You. The Indianapolis Star. p. 36.
26 Greatest offer (1923, May 9). The Indianapolis Times. p. 7. 
27 Meeting is held by lake owners at Knightstown (1926, June 14). The Indianapolis Star. p. 11.
28 Delinquent Tax List Is Small (1927, January 26). The Greenfield Daily Reporter. p. 1. 
29 Knightstown Lake Folks Find Cause Of Low Waters (1941, September 12). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1.
30 Knightstown Lake Park news (1944, June 2). The Knightstown Banner. p. 1. 
31 Knightstown Chamber of Commerce is Making this great rReal Estate Offer (1963, June 5). The Indianapolis Star. p. 12.
32 Overview of Raysville Dam Issues For The March 13th Open House (n.d.). Henry County, Indiana [New Castle]. Report. Web. Retriebed March 19, 2025. 
33 (See footnote 32).
34 Pitts, E. (2000, April 2). Raysville dam is still in limbo. The Muncie Star Press. p. 4.
35 Living dangerously (1999, December 28). The Muncie Star Press. Pp. 1-7.
36 Pitts, E. (1994, December 31). Henry County closes dam at Knightstown after bad inspection. The Muncie Star. p. 3.
37 Kelly, J. (1999, December 27). Obstacles to repair of dams are legion. The Indianapolis Star. p. 29. 
38 (See footnote 34). 
39 Notice To Bidders (2004, July 7). The Muncie Star Press. p. 22. 
40 Kelly, J. (1999, December 29). Ownership disputes complicate necessary repairs of Raysville Dam. The South Bend Tribune. p. 8.