FAQ

Whether I’m chatting with someone at a historical society meeting, answering emails from readers, or swapping messages online, questions tend to pile up.

How do you find these places?
Why old schools?
Do you just stop the car whenever you see something weird?
What’s your background, anyway?

Over time, I realized I was responding to the same questions again and again. Eventually, I gathered up fifty of my favorites and decided to answer them all in one place. Use the jump links below to access a specific section.

About the blog

What is Hiding in Plain Sight?

At its core, it’s a local history blog about the places most people overlook- old schools, historic courthouses, artesian wells, fading malls, back roads, forgotten infrastructure, and the stories sitting around us.

Why did you start the blog?

Curiosity. I started out by publishing separate blogs about old schoolhouses and courthouses, but realized I wanted to cover stuff that didn’t fit neatly into either box. I rolled everything together and gave myself permission to write about whatever I wanted.

Why focus on small towns and “ordinary” places instead of famous landmarks?

Anyone can write about famous landmarks. Personally, I’m more intrigued by the stuff in my own backyard: the old school you drove past every day, the half-empty mall where you hung out as a kid, or the crumbling building nobody notices anymore. Those places hold real, everyday history! To me, that’s way more interesting.

How do you decide what to write about next?

I keep a running list in the Notes app on my phone, but ideas strike all the time. Often, it’s just me spotting something strange from the car window and wondering about its story. Suddenly, I’ve got my next post.

Do you only cover East-Central Indiana?

I mostly cover East-Central Indiana because it’s home, but if something catches my eye anywhere else, I’ll chase it.

Personal questions

Are you a historian by training?

I’m an amateur, self-taught historian; I didn’t study any of this in a classroom. I learned by falling down rabbit holes: old newspapers, plat maps, Sanborn maps, cemetery records, county histories, and whatever I could get my hands on. One question always leads to another. Before I know it, it’s midnight and I’m ten sources deep.

What’s your background?

I graduated from Burris Laboratory School in Muncie in 2009. Since then, I’ve zig-zagged between brand management, real estate, quality, plant supervision, production planning, and other fields. I’m also a former board member of the Delaware County Historical Society, former editor of its Society Quarterly, and now a proud member of the board at the Yorktown Historical Alliance.

How did you get interested in local history? 

I got an early start. As a kid, my grandparents drove me around Fort Wayne to visit its magnificent churches, and my grandma sketched them on huge sheets of paper for me to study and color. A few years later, my other grandma took me past the one-room schoolhouses around Delaware County. Family road trips meant passing courthouse after courthouse. Somewhere along the way, I stopped just seeing buildings and started wondering about their stories. It’s pretty much snowballed ever since.

Do you write everything yourself? 

Yes, every word, sentence, and paragraph published here springs from my own fertile cranium. Everything but the typos, as a matter of fact. Those are thanks to my editors- cats Disco and Zulu.

How do you balance research with storytelling? 

My brain naturally thinks in bullet points: dates, facts, timelines, and checklists. Not everyone wants to read a spreadsheet, though, so I do the detail-heavy research first, then try to shape it into something that feels more like a story instead of a report. I want my posts to be readable enough for everyone, but accurate enough for historians.

My process

How do you find these places?

I use my own knowledge from aimless drives over the years, the kind you take just to see what’s out there. After a while, I started to build a mental map of intriguing spots. Add in old maps, reader tips, and the occasional online rabbit hole, and my list of places to write about just keeps growing.

Do you plan trips or just stumble onto things while driving?

I’m a little more intentional about planning trips with a specific itinerary these days, but I haven’t completely lost my old habit of pointless trips. Every now and then something unexpected pops up along the roadside. I pull over without thinking, grab the camera, and boom- there’s another post idea.

What tools do you use for research? 

My research usually starts with old paper trails that have gone digital. I dig through plat maps, Sanborn maps, cemetery and deed records, historic aerials, and newspaper archives. Every bit of it is available online, which means you can fall down the same rabbit holes I do without ever leaving your favorite chair.

How long does a typical post take to research and write?

It depends on the story. If the sources are easy to find and the subject’s well documented, I can knock out a post in ten or fifteen minutes. On the other hand, some topics stretch into weeks of on-again, off-again detective work.

Do you ever revisit the same place years later to update the story?

I’ve started to. I’ve been writing, researching, and snapping photos for long enough now that some of the places I’ve visited have dramatically changed. Sometimes, a second visit tells a better story than my first. I like going back to see what’s different, what survived, and what hasn’t. It’s a good reminder that history is still happening.

Photography and exploring

What camera/phone do you use?

I mostly use whatever iPhone I have at the moment; currently an iPhone 16e. I also have an old Pentax K10D, a Panasonic Lumix DMC-FZ5, a DJI Mavic Mini drone, and a CHASING Dory ROV.

Do you edit your photos?

Yep, every photo takes a quick trip through Adobe Photoshop for basic cleanup: colors, curves, contrast, and levels. Occasionally I’ll straighten a leaning building, fix the perspective, or clone stamp out my car mirror. The goal isn’t to make anything look dramatic, just to make it appear the way it did when I was there.

How do you photograph abandoned places safely?

I keep it simple and stay on the right side of common sense and the law. Almost everything I shoot is photographed from the road or other public spaces. A drone or a decent zoom can do a lot of heavy lifting.

Do you ever go inside buildings?

Every now and then, I get lucky and someone opens a door for me. I’d like if it happened more frequently!

Do you trespass to get photos?

Some flowing wells sit in what are thought to be public easements. Otherwise, I’ve got a strict no-trespassing policy and I stick to it. If I’m not invited or it’s clearly private property, I move on. Sometimes, it’s painful.

Specific interests people notice

Why are you so fascinated by old schools and gyms?

I’m drawn to places where people used to congregate. With schools and gyms, generations passed through their doors! A single building might hold fifty or a hundred years of memories. At that point, they become more than architecture; schools and gyms represent shared experiences. Plus, I grew up in a family full of teachers and basketball hotshots.

What’s the appeal of abandoned places?

Abandoned places are time capsules. There’s also something oddly human about them. Empty schools, malls, or factories remind me that nothing lasts forever. Documenting them feels a little like saying, “hey, you mattered,” or “you’re not forgotten.” I kind of like that.

Why do you write so much about malls and dead retail?

Watching malls fade isn’t just about empty storefronts and darkened food courts- it’s about watching pieces of our everyday history slip away. Because of that, I don’t approach writing about dead malls with cynicism. Rather, I try to focus on memory, culture, and how communities change. There’s something intriguing about those big spaces hanging on long after the crowds are gone! Mall posts also tend to pull in the biggest crowds around here. They’re the ones that keep the lights on as I take deep dives into the obscure corners of history that sometimes only I seem to obsess over.

Why do cemeteries show up so often on the blog?

A reader asked, and I delivered. It wasn’t until I started exploring them that I learned that cemeteries are some of the most honest history books we have.

Why do you care about things like sirens, water towers, or old highways?

Hidden infrastructure is easy to overlook. It fades into the background because it’s practical, unglamorous, and built to work instead of to be admired. Still, every pipe, tower, tunnel, and siren was put there to serve real people with real needs. To me, that makes them just as fascinating as any grand courthouse or postcard landmark. They’re not just utilities: they’re hidden history.

Readers and community

Can I suggest a place or topic for you to cover?

Please do! Some of my favorite posts started with a simple message like, “hey, have you ever noticed this old building?” or “there’s something weird nearby you should check out.” I can’t be everywhere at once, so tips are half the fun.

Do you accept guest posts?

No. This blog’s always been a pretty personal, one-voice project to keep the tone consistent. That said, I’m absolutely open to the reverse: I love collaborating and getting involved with other people’s projects. If you ever need a contributor for your site, newsletter, podcast, or anything else history- or place-focused, I’m usually game. Contact me if you’re up to collaborate.

Can you research a building or family for me?

I can certainly try; just know I’m not a professional researcher with unlimited time. I can’t promise miracles, but I’m always glad to help you start pulling the thread.

Will you speak to our group or historical society? 

I’d love to! Talking with local groups, libraries, and historical societies has grown into one of my favorite parts of doing this. If you think my areas of interest would fit your group, feel free to reach out. I’m always happy to put together a talk or presentation.

How can I support the blog?

Every click, like, share, and comment helps more than you probably realize. This whole thing runs on word of mouth. If you’d like to go a step further, there’s also a small tip jar link at the bottom of each of my posts where you can toss in a few bucks via PayPal. Still, just showing up and reading is more than enough.

Logistics and ethics: 

Do you ever worry about places being vandalized after posting about them? 

Sometimes, yes. I love sharing the places that intrigue me, but I never want to be the reason something gets damaged or picked apart. If a location feels vulnerable, I’ll keep it general or skip the exact address altogether. I want people to appreciate these places- not treat them like targets.

What about encouraging “urban exploration” or trespassing?

A little. I’m not trying to encourage urbex or turn abandoned places into destinations. That’s never been the point. I stick to photos from public right-of-ways, avoid posting sensitive locations, and try to model a strict no-trespassing approach in everything I document.

How do you handle copyrighted historic images?

I believe that the historic images I use fall under what I understand to be fair use. They’re shared strictly for educational, historical, and illustrative purposes, not for profit. They help tell the story, provide context, and show what a place looked like in the past. That said, I’m human. If I ever get something wrong or use something I shouldn’t have, just reach out and let me know. I’ll gladly credit, correct, or remove it. My goal is to preserve and share history, not step on anyone’s toes.

Can people reuse your photos? 

Maybe. If you’re working on something for yourself, school, a nonprofit, or something else community-focused, I’m usually happy to help. Just reach out and ask first so we can talk it through and make sure it’s a good fit (and that I’m credited). I also live in the real world and understand how the internet works, but I appreciate when people treat my work the same way I treat the places I document: with a little respect.

Is it okay to visit the places you write about? 

Usually, yes, with some common sense. If a place is public -like a courthouse square, a park, a downtown street, or a building that’s open for business- absolutely go check it out. Half the fun of local history is seeing these places with your own eyes! That said, if it’s private property or clearly abandoned and posted, please don’t treat this blog like your personal treasure map.

Fun and personality: 

What’s your favorite place you’ve ever written about? 

I keep finding myself drawn back to the Oak Grove Schoolhouse in Jay County’s Knox Township. Its bell tower, stark against the sky, is a real landmark. No matter how many times I visit or drive past, it still pulls me in.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve found while exploring? 

An old claw-foot bathtub sitting above a cow pasture, slowly filling and spilling as an artesian well pours into it.

Have you ever gotten stuck somewhere or had a close call? 

I managed to get my car good and stuck while trying to photograph the old Beech Grove Schoolhouse just east of I-69 in rural Delaware County. What looked like an easy pull-off turned into a snow-covered trap. I was high-centered on a hidden boulder, tires spinning, and going nowhere fast. I spent the next half hour rocking the car back and forth like an idiot in the cold until it finally lurched free.

Are you hungry?

I just ate lunch at MCL, so no. But thanks!

What keeps you motivated to keep writing and posting daily? 

Writing is cathartic for me. It helps me slow my brain down and focus on something concrete, especially during the rough stretches of living with bipolar disorder. I’m also just endlessly curious. The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know. There’s also a tiny part of me chasing a little prestige, too, even though I know this will never make me famous. Mostly, I just want to contribute something small that’s meaningful to society and leave a record behind.

What’s next

I’d gladly pay for this. Why keep the blog free instead of putting it behind a paywall?

I hate hitting paywalls. There’s nothing more frustrating than finally finding the exact article or story I’ve been searching for and then getting blocked by some annoying or expensive demand for payment. I don’t want to do that to anyone else! I want my stuff to be accessible to everyone, not just people who can or want to pay. I’m grateful if someone wants to toss a few bucks in the tip jar, but I don’t want money to be the gatekeeper to my research and stories.

Have you ever thought about turning this into a book?

Yeah, more than once, actually. I’ve got a handful of ideas constantly rattling around in my head, along with my own little vanity press imprint, Smoky Row, that I’d love to use someday. One project would collect my Abandoned Marsh series into a single photo book. Another would lean more personal as a blend of history and memoir about how visiting the places I write about helped ground me during bipolar episodes. The third would be a deep dive into Delaware County schoolhouses to pull years of scattered research, photos, and notes into one definitive place. It’s just a matter of finding the time and momentum to finally push one of them across the finish line.

Any chance you’ll move this blog to Substack?

Not likely. I totally get the appeal: Substack is trendy, easy to use, and works well for a lot of writers. It lowers the barrier to entry, and that’s great. Still, I’ve been on WordPress for more than a decade now, and I value the control and ownership it gives me. On WordPress, the site is truly mine: I control the layout, the archives, the oddball maps, the photo galleries, the structure- everything. I’m not tied to someone else’s platform, algorithms, or rules. If I want to tweak the design or dive into the code, I can. Sometimes, I do!

Have you considered starting a podcast version of Hiding in Plain Sight?

Yes. Funny enough, I’m probably overprepared. I have a small recording studio here at home with real SM-58s, soundproofing, and pro audio gear. Technically, I could start tomorrow! I’ve recorded a few test runs here and there, but nothing has clicked yet. Still, it’s one of those “maybe someday” projects. The equipment’s ready, but I’m just waiting for the right format to stick.

Would you ever host meetups, tours, or in-person events?

Absolutely. Getting out from behind the screen and walking through these places together sounds like a blast. A group tour of an old courthouse, a mall walk-through, or a little local-history field trip on one of those communal pedal cars would be very on-brand for me! So would random trips to MCL or weekly meetups at the historical society.

Big-picture and philosophy

Why does local history matter?

Local history is the story we actually live inside. National history is important, sure, but most of our lives don’t happen in famous cities or headline-making moments. They happen on familiar streets, in old schools, at the mall, and in the buildings we pass every day without thinking about it. Local history explains why those places look the way they do and how we got here. It also makes things persona: suddenly, history isn’t abstract- it’s yours.

Why tell stories about places most people overlook? 

Overlooked places are where the most interesting stories usually hide. Unfortunately, they don’t get documented unless someone makes the effort. That’s the fun of it! Helping people say, “Wait- I’ve lived here my whole life and never knew that!” feels a lot more rewarding than repeating something everyone is already aware of. Sometimes the best history really does hide in plain sight.

What does “preservation” mean to you? 

In a perfect world, every place I write about could be saved. Each old schoolhouse would get a second life, every courthouse would stay standing, and all of our fading malls would find a new purpose. Part of me would love to freeze them all in time! Still, I’m a realist: not everything can -or should- be preserved. For me, preservation isn’t always about saving the bricks and mortar. Sometimes it’s about saving the story.

Why slow down and look closer? 

You miss almost everything when you’re rushing. Most of the places I write about aren’t hidden, they’re just easy to ignore at full speed. Looking closer turns the world from background scenery into real-life stories, but also changes how you feel about where you live. Instead of “just another small town,” you start seeing layers, like generations of people, buildings, and lives stacked on top of each other. Slowing down makes the familiar feel interesting again, and for me, that’s where all the good stuff is.

What do you hope Hiding in Plain Sight accomplishes?

I hope this blog helps people see their world a little differently. That’s a win! Local history shouldn’t feel gated or academic. Instead, it should feel like it belongs to everyone, because it does. On a personal level, I guess it’s about leaving something behind. Buildings disappear. People move on. Time keeps rolling. If this blog can serve as a small record, then that feels like a pretty good legacy to me.