HANCOCK COUNTY — As far back as the late 1800s, when a lawyer secured a first win at a trial in the Hancock County Courthouse, attorneys made their way up to the fourth floor of the courthouse — a place people were not supposed to go — and signed their names as a reflection of their accomplishment.
While the tradition has since died off, hundreds of signatures are still on the fourth floor and tower bell area of the courthouse, including some dating as far back as the late 1890s.
Most people who go into the Hancock County Courthouse for official business are trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. However, for historians or people who enjoy the beauty of an old historical structure where they wished walls could talk, the courthouse is an interesting place to soak up a bit of the county’s past.
The Romanesque Revival style Hancock County Courthouse, built in 1896 and completed in 1898, is a marvel in many ways. With picturesque stained glass windows, simplified arches, massive staircases and even a cavernous courtroom on the third floor, the courthouse is worth more than a passing glance.
The courthouse becomes particularly interesting when it is discovered there are many hidden historical tidbits inside.
For starters, there’s a secluded staircase in one of the courtroom areas allowing access to the unoccupied fourth floor — the attic area. There is also an underground tunnel connecting the old jail to the courthouse where officers used to walk inmates back and fourth; plus, there is also a hidden picture of Steve Dyer, who ran the county’s substance abuse program, hanging somewhere inside.
However, some of the most intriguing pieces of the past are up on the fourth floor, where no one was ever supposed to venture, yet hundreds have.
As far as anyone currently working at the courthouse can recall, no one was or is allowed access beyond the third floor ever except for the janitorial staff and repairmen who work on the old clock or do repairs on things like leaky windows. Still, the fourth floor is filled with hundreds of signatures, including signatures on the courthouse bell.
A few months ago, the clock tower in the courthouse started having lighting issues, so facilities manager Cory Taylor went up there for the first time.
Taylor noted he was “blown away” when he saw hundreds of signatures on the support structures that hold the stained-glass windows and the tower clock.
“It’s pretty amazing,” Taylor said. “I was really surprised so many people had been up here because this amount of signatures is pretty shocking, and I’m going to guess most people don’t know the signatures are even here.”
Taylor, who considers himself a bit of a history buff, pointed out many signatures with dates from the early 1900s before spotting a signature by a Thomas Carter, Morristown, signed in 1896.
“There are probably over 200 signatures here by the dome, and there are way more up by the clock,” Taylor said. “Every inch of the board up there is covered in names, but it just makes you wonder what in the heck was everyone doing up here?”
Former Hancock County Judge Richard Culver has a good idea how the names, including his own, ended up on the fourth floor.
“I think I went up there in the early 80s and signed my name around the bell,” Culver said. “It used to be part of a long-standing tradition.”
While there are many signatures not connected to the tradition on the fourth floor, such as signatures from contractors and people who happen to somehow get up there, Culver noted most of the names signed are from lawyers after they won their first jury trial in Hancock County.
“There was an old tradition that has since died now, but the previous lawyers who won a jury trial would sneak up into the clock tower and sign their names,” Culver said. “I waited until I had my turn and I snuck up there also.”
Culver noted it was a tradition well known among the lawyers who tried cases in the county, but was also kept quiet.
“I thought it was one of those ‘silent secret’ things all the lawyers knew about but never talked about,” he said.
However, when Culver got closer to the end of his local career, another lawyer, who was slightly older had never heard about the tradition and hadn’t signed his name.
“I took him up there so he could,” Culver said. “His name was Roger Reason.”
Culver noted that the fourth floor, which is technically the attic, is kind of dangerous, yet he climbed up to the bell area on rickety, old steps to sign his name on the highest point.
“I remember thinking back then the staircase was going to come unbolted at any time,” Culver said.
Current county judges say they’ve heard about the signatures, but not all of them have signed their names or knew too much about the past tradition.
“My name is up there, but that’s only because I was in the elevator one day and I saw a guy put in a large key to go up there so I went with him,” Judge Dan Marshall said.
Marshall noted that was years ago, and he can’t recall exactly where he signed his name.
“I probably haven’t been in the attic in 20 years,” he said. “I had heard the story that lawyers signed their name after their first trial victory, but no one I know ever did that. They just signed when they happened to be in the attic.”
Michael Kester, president of Hancock County Historical Society, said he went to the fourth floor of the courthouse in 2019 to pick up the old clock hands that were being replaced as he wanted the artifacts in the local museum. He too was surprised to see the many signatures which he noted are mostly from the early 1900s.
“I think some of those signatures were from workers who may have started the trend,” Kester said. “I think what surprised me was how far back the signatures went, and in my mind I thought, ‘Well, the security at the top of the courthouse was not what it is now days.’”
Kester believes, but can’t confirm, the courthouse may have long ago been a tourist stop where people came and went as they pleased.
“I say that because some of those signatures are from families who were from different states who have signed their names and state,” Kester said. “So you can imagine they were rolling through town and the courthouse was a place to see, so stopping to see the clockwork may have been a thing back in the day.”
When Kester was on the fourth floor, he found a name of a friend who had added his signature and that friend wasn’t an attorney, Kester said.
The Greenfield Courthouse Square Historic District is a special place and the Hancock County Courthouse is a large reason why.
Local historian Bridgette Jones noted the cornerstone for the courthouse was laid on September 22, 1896. The courthouse stands at 181 feet and 6 inches tall. It is of two architectural styles — Romanesque and French Gothic.
“The massiveness of its walls, the heaviness of its structure and the roundness of its arches depict the Romanesque style,” Jones said. “The details on the elevation in the pointed crowning of the arches, the verticality of the openings, the countless figures and stained glass depict a French Gothic style.”
Jones shared information on how a fire broke out once in the courthouse in 1940 and smoke poured out of the central tower.
“The auto license bureau and the offices for the county welfare board were charred in the fire,” she said.
While the records of those two agencies were ruined, little of the massive limestone structure was damaged. The solid structure of the courthouse, Jones noted, led it to be designated as a fallout shelter in 1962. As a result, the basement had provisions for nuclear war survival stored there.
As for the signatures, Jones says the county courthouse isn’t the only iconic structure in the state to have them.
“There are signatures inside the dome of the Indiana State Capitol building too,” she said.
Regardless the reason for the signatures, Culver, who is still working as the prosecutor for Henry County, said he loves going into older courthouses with older courtrooms, particularly ones with a great, even hidden, history. He feels the Hancock County Courthouse is one of those special places with many historical secrets.
That includes the hidden portrait of Dyer, who has since passed, but was instrumental in helping people find sobriety in the county. It seems Culver felt Dyer deserved a special tribute, so he hung a portrait of Dyer, making his photo the only one hanging in the courthouse that isn’t a current or former judge.
“The picture is in the courthouse, but I will not disclose where it is,” Culver said. “It will only be found some day if they tear the courthouse down.”
