Before 1920, air transportation was still in its infancy. In those days, primitive airplanes looked more like flying kites with open cockpits. Adventuresome pilots often landed them in farm fields and made a few bucks by offering plane rides to the public.

These pioneering aviators were part of a daring young breed of thrill seekers called "barnstormers." The public’s imagination was captured by their risky maneuvers and death defying air stunts. One such man was Shelbyville’s own Harold Carroon, a pioneer "aero-plane" pilot and the first Shelby County resident to own his own airplane.

Harold Carroon was born in Shelbyville in 1903. As a youth, Carroon grew up during the dawn of airplane flight. Every time the "new-fangled contraptions" rumbled overhead, he ran outdoors to marvel at the machines. He became fascinated with aeronautics and became very good at designing and making his own elaborate kites.

Soon after graduating from Shelbyville High School in 1921, Carroon took flying lessons in Indianapolis using a World War I surplus biplane, a Curtis-Wright "Jenny." He got his license and became a member of the 113th Observation Squadron of the Indiana National Guard, Air Division. His father, "Paddy" Carroon, eventually helped him obtain an Alexander Eaglerock plane with a more powerful engine.

Since there were no airports, hangars, and runways, early pilots had to use farm fields and pastures for takeoffs and landings. One such field available locally in the early I 920s was Harvey Beall’s farm west of Shelbyville. A few years later in 1928, pilots could use a field three miles northwest of town owned by Melvin Bassett. It had a large, rotating beacon that could be seen for miles and was operated by the Civil Aeronautics Authority.

In the late 1920s, Carroon lived for a while in Fowler where he managed his father’s canning factory and operated an airport. He later returned to Shelbyville and offered plane rides and flight instruction to hundreds of county residents.

Many got their first airplane ride from him.

Besides being a skilled pilot, Carroon was also an accomplished painter. During the 1 930s, he supplemented his income by making "blow-up pictures" and advertising signs for movie theater windows. Locally, he worked for Paul and Joe Meloy, who owned the Strand and Alhambra movie theaters. He also made signs for theaters all around central Indiana.

During his career, Carroon suffered injuries in two major airplane accidents. The most serious crash occurred almost in front of his own home in the early 1 930s while he was teaching an Indianapolis policeman to fly. The plane was an open cockpit two-seater, one seat behind the other, and Carroon sat in the rear seat behind the student pilot. The novice pilot panicked 50 feet in the air and "froze" at the controls, causing the plane to stall and crash. Carroon’s legs were mangled, while the fortunate student pilot only suffered a broken nose.

The injuries from that crash put Carroon in the hospital for several weeks and he was forced to walk with crutches. But the brush with death never curbed his passion for flying for he continued to soar in and out of Fred Nave’s landing field east of to between the Knightstown and Old Rushville Roads. Carroon called it the landing strip "high tension field," aptly named because of the dangerous electric power lines that loomed ominously at the north end.

Carroon presented an imposing, romantic and unforgettable sight when seen wearing his goggles, helmet, and boots. His daredevil antics and stunts were often the talk of the town. He liked to bring his aircraft in low and "snatch" hand-held kites by their string lines. He often made his airplane "hover" above Public Square and tipped his wings, much to the delight of downtown shoppers. He did this by flying 1cm and into a high wind, causing his actual ground speed to slow and giving the appearance that he was barely moving.

Carroon was once asked to drop a football from the air onto the 50-yard-line at a Shelbyville High School homecoming game. It took place after dark, so he had his friends line up their cars along the football field and turn on their headlights so he could navigate. He zoomed in, dived low and dropped the ball dead center.

Carroon seemed to thrive on thrill seeking, always pushing the envelope and living on the edge. His fearless manner, gutsy bravado, and aviating skills attracted many admirers, especially among young people. He was a brash and gallant hero to hundreds of local schoolboys.

He found challenge and excitement by dropping flower sacks on ground targets and launching parachute dummies filled with straw. He was also known to race recklessly around the county on his motorcycle. He liked to play games in town with incoming trains by crossing the railroad tracks right in front of them, then speeding through town and re-crossing the tracks ahead of the train at another intersection. He had a cavalier, restless, and fun-loving personality but was also somewhat foolhardy as time after time he tempted tragedy and cheated death.

One of Carroon’s favorite ploys was faking "forced landings" in very tight areas. He simply wanted to see if he could do it! Incredibly, Carroon once landed his airplane in the small infield of the racetrack at the Shelby County Fairgrounds. He especially enjoyed taking new riders up into the sky and giving them the thrill of a lifetime.

In the late 1930s, Carroon found work as a civilian flight instructor at Purdue University in Lafayette. In May 1941 he left Purdue to become an instructor at Spartan Air School in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Two months later on July 6, 1941, he met an ironic death when he and his wife Mary were killed in a head-on car crash while vacationing near San Antonio, Texas. The pioneering aviator was only 37 years old. "Barnstorming Harold Carroon" and his wife Mary were sent back to Shelbyville and buried at St. Joseph’s Cemetery.