Dan Arvin, Max Henschen and Scott Lyons enjoyed a close relationship for more than fifty years.  Although Max and Scott did not yet consider themselves friends, they met in the spring of 1959, as eighth graders at Immaculate Heart of Mary grade school in Indianapolis.  Dan and Max met the following fall at Latin School, where they were beginning preparation for the priesthood. 

Scott moved to East Moline, Illinois in the summer of 1959, where he then lived with his grandparents during high school, returning to Indianapolis to be with his parents and siblings during Christmas and summer vacations.  Max and Scott might never have become friends had it not been for a chance meeting on a city bus during the summer of 1960.  A few weeks after that encounter, Max introduced Scott to Dan and the threesome began a life-long friendship.

Since none of them was old enough to drive, they covered the north side on foot, from Max’s house at 54th and Central to Broad Ripple to Glendale Shopping Center, putting several miles on their shoes every day.  On a few occasions, they hitchhiked.  Once, when picked up by an unsuspecting Samaritan, they began talking to one another in gibberish, pretending to be foreigners.  Did the driver fall for it? Probably not.   And they pulled the same stunt when waiting in line at a movie theater; everyone in the vicinity must have been rolling their eyes.

Two years later, having reached the age of sixteen, Max and Dan gained access to wheels.  A favorite pastime in the winter was to drive Max’s family Pontiac to Holiday Park where Max would “do doughnuts” on the frozen roads.  Another favorite activity was to get in a car and try to find Carmel.  It’s a tony large suburb city of Indianapolis now, but back then it was cornfields and pastures; they never did find it, but they did get lost a lot. Since Scott’s family had moved to the East Side, and he had no car, Dan’s and Max’s willingness to pick him up became essential to the continuation of their friendship.

One summer evening, having nothing better to do, they commandeered an abandoned grocery cart with the intention of giving one another rides.  Then they had a great idea:  let’s put Dan in the cart, give him a dolly and a blanky, and push him up and down Michigan Street to see if folks noticed the amazingly large baby we had.   As they were wheeling Dan past a bar, Max and Scott were possessed by an evil urge.  They pushed Dan up to the entrance, told him to close his eyes like he was a sleeping baby, knocked on the door and hightailed it out of there.  Not eager to face the bar’s denizens, Dan jumped out and took off running, leaving the cart behind. They hid behind some nearby bushes and laughed hysterically.  No one knows what happened to the dolly and blanky.

This wasn’t the only time they would pull pranks on one another.  They used to like to visit the haunted bridge in the wilds of the far North Side, in what today is probably a posh Carmel neighborhood.  Summoning up all of the courage they could muster during one visit, they got out of the car and cautiously approached the bridge.  Suddenly Dan and Max had an inspiration.  They rushed back to the car, jumped in and hit the gas, leaving Scott to face whatever evil spirits lurked about.  Scott immediately took off running, but he couldn’t catch the speeding car.  Fortunately, Scott’s sisters, Linda and Kathy, were also in the car.  They prevailed upon Dan to go back and get Scott, so he was spared a heinous death.   Dan and Max swore never to bring Scott’s sisters with them again.

On another occasion they were driving along Michigan Road on the northwest side.  Max for some reason, was carrying a pair of tennis shoes.   Dan decided Max didn’t need the shoes anymore, so he threw them out the window.  Max, of course, wanted his shoes back, so he made them go back to get them.  When Max got out of the car to retrieve his shoes, guess what happened? That’s right; Scott and Dan took off.  Only after several passes, each time at which Max threw the tennis shoes at the car, did Dan and Scott stop to pick him up.  This story doesn’t have a happy ending.  A short time later they were pulled over by a car flashing its lights at them.  A woman got out and walked up to their car.  She claimed to be some sort of local official, which she probably wasn’t, but the threesome were too naïve (and scared) to challenge her.  Her message was, in effect, “get out of Dodge.”

Another time, the three goobers pretended to be fighting fiercely alongside Michigan Street.   It was fun until someone stopped to break it up.   They ran like the craven cowards they were.

Dan wasn’t always a good influence.  Although Max wasn’t supposed to date, being in a seminary-like school, that didn’t stop Dan from setting him up with a friend of his girlfriend.  The four of them drove around all evening.  Look what happened to Max in the long run.  Shame!

By the time they were out of high-school, they had developed a taste for the occasional beer.  Somewhere along the line they acquired a fake ID which they decided to put to good use.  So they went to a local liquor store to get a six-pack.  Assuming the demeanor of a mature bon vivant, Max took the ID and walked into the store.  The store clerk didn’t believe he was twenty-one and sent him on his way.  A short time later, they decided to try again, this time Dan going in with the fake ID.   He, too, was turned away.  But they didn’t give up.  I’ll digress here to say that Scott fashioned himself as what would be described today as a “Mad Men” wannabe.  He was often dressed in a black trench coat and a matching black fedora.  So Max and Dan decided that dressed as he was, Scott would have a better chance of securing the beer.  With the same fake ID in hand, Scott entered the liquor store, to emerge a few minutes later carrying a six-pack. 

This wasn’t the only time they imbibed.  After Dan’s mother passed away, his grandmother moved in to take care of him and his brother, Mike.  One Saturday night, after Grandma had gone to bed, Dan and Scott broke out a bottle of cheap whiskey.  They had a good time that night, but didn’t feel too well the next morning.  Grandma, of course, was up early to fix the boys a hearty breakfast before going to church.  Dan, bright boy that he was, told Grandma he had the flu and couldn’t go to church.  It wouldn’t be believable to say they both had suddenly contracted the flu, so Scott had to pretend he was alright, despite a throbbing headache and nausea.  You guessed it.  Scott had to take Mike and Grandma to church, while Dan went back to bed.  The rat!

If Scott was a “Mad Men” wannabe, Dan was Mr. Cool, always dressed in the hippest fashion and into the latest musical craze.  (As a regular listener to east coast radio stations, he discovered the Beatles and Bob Dylan long before the rest of Indianapolis even knew they existed.) Well, back to the story.  One winter evening, Dan took Scott’s sisters, Linda and Kathy, to Ellenberger Park to go sledding.  The girls couldn’t quite master the art of jumping on the sled to get a faster start down the hill, so Dan offered to demonstrate.  Summoning up all of his “cool,” Dan grabbed the sled and charged toward the hill.  He executed his jump perfectly, but he missed the sled, so it went down the hill by itself while Dan slid along beside it.  Clearly not something a guy as cool as Dan would be expected to do.  Nonetheless, the girls laughed hysterically.   Another reason not to bring Scott’s sisters along.

Max’s and Scott’s mothers were always glad to see the three of them, feeding them and laughing at their stupid jokes and stunts.  Dan was particularly good to Scott’s family, even while Scott was away at school, frequently driving Scott’s mother to the grocery store.  On one occasion he drove them 300 miles to East Moline on the spur of the moment so they could visit relatives.

When they were finished with high-school, Max moved on to St.  Meinrad Seminary (later to transfer to Marian College), and Scott attended Indiana University.  Dan took an entry level job with Cadillac Plastic and quickly moved on to sales.  Thanks to his innate intelligence and winning personality, Dan thrived in this occupation.  Scott once told Dan, with apologies to himself and Max, that while they were more successful in school, Dan was more successful in his career.   

Max puts this down to Dan’s experience with Junior Achievement.   The current Junior Achievement of Central Indiana describes itself as:  “Junior Achievement (JA) empowers young people to own their economic success.  Our volunteer-delivered, K-12 programs foster work-readiness, entrepreneurship and financial literacy skills.  JA's experiential learning inspires kids to dream big and reach their potential.  Junior Achievement of Central Indiana helps young people connect with relevant learning and the importance of staying in school.  JA sparks students to develop competitive skills and confidence.”   Dan always spoke of the fun he was having in JA and Max accompanied him a few times to their activities.  Max is convinced JA filled a void left by the death of Dan’s father and taught him maturity and how to interact with others for mutual benefit.

After a few years, Scott moved to Saratoga Springs, NY and Dan relocated to Cincinnati.  They saw less of one another, but stayed in touch.  Scott occasionally visited Dan and Vicki while in Cincinnati to see Skidmore College alumni.  And Dan sometimes went to Indianapolis, where he and Max got together.  In later years, they saw each other more frequently.  Whenever Scott (who by then lived in Fredericksburg, VA) visited his family in Indianapolis, the clan would gather for an impromptu party.  Dan and Max were always invited.  Unsurprisingly, there was much joking around and sharing of old stories.  Dan, in particular, always exhibited a good sense of humor, generating lots of laughter. (Scott’s sisters were a particularly good audience.)  Having established relationships with Scott’s mother and sisters, Dan became an adopted member of the Lyons family.