impressive from the outside. Its octagon-shaped floor plan only had about 1,500 sf of space on the first floor. It originally included a small seating counter with eight stools, a grill, soda fountain, and jukebox, as well as a place where carhops picked up orders. What really set Al Green’s apart architecturally was its basement, which had two wings tunneling  beneath the pavement.  This

was a most unusual feature for a drive-in or any commercial establishment. Customers had no idea about this unique feature. The only visible signs were the metal hatches on the pavement, that could be lifted to allow trucks to deliver supplies.  The exact origin of this idea, how well it worked, how it passed the zoning and inspection, etc. is simply one of the great mysteries of Al Greens. We can only imagine the problems that might have developed with such a design: structural weakening, security problems, etc. These tunnels were not extremely deep, but rather, 2-3 feet or below grade.  The first floor sat only a few inches above grade and the basement appeared to be not overly deep from what I recall.  There must have been water leaks or poor ventilation.  The tunnels did afford better access for loading goods and supplies, but that alone would not justify the trouble of building such a structure. One possible explanation is that Al Green developed an appreciation for underground bunkers in World War II and he thought it might be a cheap way to add square footage to his restaurant. Or perhaps he was influenced by the backyard bomb shelter fad of the late 1940s. It’s quite possible the tunnels were zoned as a bomb shelter.  In any case these tunnels were just one of the many features that showed Al Green aspired to much more than a typical drive-in.

The original first-floor plan had a small dining counter as well as a telephone switchboard for taking orders, said to be the nation's first phone-in curb service. The switchboard and curb service were dropped sometime in the late 50s or early 60s.  After that time, customers could examine the switchboard up close as they placed their order. (I unscrewed one of the switchboard lights in the 1970s as a souvenir. See picture in the Photo Album under Al Green's.)

The basement was about 2,560 square feet, 80% larger than the first floor. Customers had to enter the basement to access to the restrooms. A door marked “Employees Only” kept them from seeing the tunnels. The east tunnel contained dry storage for paper products, a water heater, fuel tank, and well pump. The west tunnel held work tables, a large walk-in freezer, vegetable storage, an ice cream maker, a potato peeler and slicer, and other food preparation equipment.

Thus beneath the relatively puny first floor lay a production facility suitable to feed an army. Belle, sister of Al Green, boasted that their French Fries were not frozen like the fast food places but were made with fresh potatoes and kept in vats of water in this basement. Her 2005 obituary listed her as manager of Al Green’s Drive-in for 30 years.

A high school friend of mine and fellow Warren Central graduate, Gary Brewer, shot a video of the restaurant before it was demolished in 1997. The video showed dank and decrepit rooms and corridors, with exposed electrical junction boxes and conduit, lit only by a few bare light bulbs. A few translucent glass bricks at the top of each wall of the octagon shape also allowed light to penetrate the basement. Gary recalled the sound of dripping water, the smell of mildew, the visible water damage, and mysterious tunnels. He did not venture into these tunnels nor did his video capture them well in the darkness. I was at first skeptical of the tunnels because it was so outlandish to build tunnels beneath a parking.  I pored over the five-minute video, examining each frame as if it were the Zapruder film, straining to see any evidence of tunnels. I constructed a 3D model based on the video and a few photographs, but I didn’t model the basement because it was not clear enough. Then I eventually came into contact with Leo Foster, Al Green's chief electrician throughout much of the 1950s to 1970s. Leo not only confirmed the existence of the tunnels but also laid out a detailed floor plan, which proves Gary was right all along.

One of the most interesting things about the Brewer video is the demolition foreman who describes the condition of the property as he found it. He stated that the Greens never threw anything out, evidenced by the four dumpsters of debris. He also believed that Belle was living in the basement up until a month before the demolition. I find this claim to be suspect, however. Judging from the video, the place looks too bleak for human habitation, with peeling paint, mildew, poor lighting, and exposed junction boxes. Gary said he does not remember seeing shoes and other personal effects that might have indicated someone lived there. However, it is true that Al and possibly Belle slept in the building overnight on a regular basis, but quite likely they slept on cots upstairs rather than the basement, and they always had other homes to go to.  Al's 1957 Chrysler was often seen parked overnight outside. And several trucks were always parked over the West wing hatch, probably as a security measure.

Curiously, the large sign contained a clever reference to the Indy 500: 33 yellow and white cubes arranged vertically, eleven rows of three, just like the cars in the Indianapolis 500.  Just a coincidence?  Maybe.  We’ll never know for sure. Although Belle’s obituary lists eight nieces and nephews, none could be located for further information, such as who designed the place.

It was food, not architecture, that made Al's relatively famous. The tenderloins were much talked about. The hamburgers were also distinct, marinated in a secret-recipe gravy. There are not many businesses that inspire a lifelong loyalty in their customers. Of all the defunct businesses from the Eastside of Indianapolis, very few can claim any semblance of lasting respect.  Very few business can resonate so perfectly with their time period as did Al Green’s. Al’s was more than a burger joint. It was community.