If I have to go to St. Louis, I usually take 1-55 northbound because I probably have to do something time-sensitive, like picking up or dropping someone off at the airport. I don’t mind, because it’s a pretty stretch of road, much nicer than most pieces of the Super Slab that have an “I” as their first name.
Fourche a du Clos Valley Roadside Park
On the way back, I look for more scenic routes. I generally hop on Hwy 61 just north of Bloomsdale. That’ll give me a chance to see the Dew Drop Inn, and look over the valley at from the Fourche a du Clos Valley Roadside Park.
When I made the trip in May of 2019, the Mississippi River was misbehaving. A few weeks earlier, there was a sign just north of St. Mary that warned the road was underwater. I knew a dodge that would take me around the low lands, so I ignored the Road Closed sign in Ste. Gen.
Valle Spring Cemetery
Valle Spring
Cemetery 05-15-2019
The river had come up a few feet by the time I made this trip.
The water was over the road well north of my cutoff, so I had to backtrack to pick up Missouri M in Ste. Genevieve. That turned out to be a good thing, because it took me past the Valle Spring Cemetery (also known as Calvary Cemetery).
The beautiful grounds, home to about 6,000 permanent residents, was a place I’d like to explore more some day.
A peaceful resting place
Valle Spring
Cemetery 05-15-2019
I don’t think you can find anything greener or more peaceful than the lane that runs through the graveyard.
The Quarrytown RoadGamble
Quarrytown Road 05-09-2019
Just beyond the cemetery was Quarrytown Road that took off to the south. I gambled that it might stay on high ground to below St. Mary.
I always like driving through the rolling hills between Cape and Altenburg, but I think this road was even more scenic.
I just like it
Quarrytown Road 05-09-2019
When I started to get back in the van after shooting the vista, this old post caught my eye. I can never explain why I’m stopped by some things.
This ain’t great art, but I like all the shades of green and the idea that some farmer tacked a fence to this old tree no telling how many decades ago.
Sometimes you just have to believe the signs
Quarrytown Road 05-09-2019
When I got to the intersection of Quarrytown Road and Hwy 61, I found that it was time to turn around. The Mississippi River had other plans for me.
The road back was pretty enough that I didn’t mind seeing it from the other direction. I ended up taking I-55 most of the way back to Cape.
I believe that life is about journeys, not destinations. If Hwy 61 hadn’t been under water, I would never have discovered the cemetery nor Quarrytown Road. That made it a good day.
Warriorette Shari’s friend Barb Goza Chambers flew in from California to see her Mother, Betty Goza, in January. They always like to go on a ramble when she hits town.
Betty in Walmart last year
Betty Goza 12-19-2019
I don’t pay much attention to people in stores, so I was surprised when Betty waylaid me in the Jackson Walmart last December. If I had been looking up, I’d have recognized that big smile anywhere.,
They decided they wanted to see the Big Oak Tree State Park, in Mississippi county. I’m pretty sure the soles of my shoes melted the last time I was there because the earth’s crust was still cooling.
I shudder when I think of big trees
Jackson’s Hanging Tree in 2010
The Missourian printed a picture of a big tree and wondered if it had set a state record.
Well, before long, we were flooded with people who claimed THEIR tree was a record-breaker, too. Guess who got to drive all over hell’s half-acre taking tree pictures and picking ticks off his young body. The only solace I could take while scratching chigger bites was that each tree was worth five bucks and mileage.
The only thing worse than trees was when the paper made the mistake of running a photo of a couple guys holding up a big snake in front of the newspaper’s front doors. Not long after that, we were given a “No more snake pictures” edict because the huge reptiles were freaking out passersby and the advertising staff.
Note: this wasn’t one of the the big trees. This is the Hanging Tree behind the Cape County Courthouse. The county cut the tree down on a Sunday in 2016 without giving any notice.
Back to the park to look for big trees
What’s left of former co-champion tree
Barb and I decided to head out on a boardwalk to hunt for the promised big trees. We should have read the display at the head of the walk before we took off.
The sign would have told us that five of the 12 champion trees were like this specimen of the former 17’7″ Quercus macrocarpa that fell in 2009.
The day was a bit chilly for the jacket I grabbed, so we didn’t do the full walk. On the plus side, we didn’t encounter any mosquitoes.
The best part of the trip
Google Map showing the park and Mississippi River
The best part of the trip was the journey back to what passed as civilization (New Madrid). We took some small roads that let us parallel the Mississippi River where we could see the chutes, islands and oxbows it makes.
New Madrid was a welcome sight because all that meandering left my van breathing fumes, something I didn’t share with my passengers.
I got this email from Number Three Steinhoff Brother Mark Tuesday: “I was wondering if you ever went back and photographed Perkins Shoe Tree to see if first, the pole was still there and second, if the shoes were there?”
Steinhoff Family Shoes
Shoes for shoe tree 11-26-2010
He was referring to a utility pole I discovered in 2010 when heading out to shoot aerials with Ernie Chiles. When the Tulsa Clan came to Cape to visit Mother, Mark assembled their shoes, created special red tags, and took them to Perkins to start a family tradition.
Mark wants to be the oldest brother
David, Mark, Ken Steinhoff 08-1978
If it had been any reader other than Brother Mark, I would have assumed it was idle curiosity. With him, I suspect more nefarious motives.
See, he’s always wanted to be the oldest brother. Since that didn’t happen in the natural order of things, he’s been trying to gain the title by attrition. In other words, he’s trying to kill off his two older brothers.
Attempted Fratricide
Mark Steinhoff Christmas 2000
In 2000, we went on a bike ride around Cape. We were going down a long, steep hill with a nasty curve at the bottom when he started pushing me to the edge of the road, kind of like a collie herding a sheep.
I had no choice but bail out into a ditch, making a taco out of my wheel. When the Steinhoffs convened in St. Louis to celebrate Christmas, I presented him with my wheel and a plaque attesting to his evildoing. I wanted a record of his past in case he tried again.
Wanted me to break quarantine
Perkins shoe tree 05-05-2020
I could only assume that he wanted me to leave the safety of my self-quarantine on Kingsway Drive so he could count on my high-risk status to move him up a notch in the Brother Universe.
I accepted his challenge. The top photo shows that the pole and the shoes still exist.
This closeup shows some shoes with the metal tags still in them, but the red paint has faded. In a few places, the tags are still embedded in the pole, but the shoes have gone AWOL.
Shoes tired of hanging around
Perkins shoe tree 05-05-2020
It looks like some shoes have gotten tired of hanging around.
Not Welcome to Perkins
Perkins Vol Fire Dept sign 05-05-2020
This isn’t exactly a Welcome to Perkins message, but I can understand its meaning.
In for a penny, in for a pound
Advance Elementary School 05-05-2020
Since I was already out and about, I made a quick run through Advance to see if I could pick up some great chips and salsa at El Mexicano. They were dark, so I’m afraid they were closed.
I DID see this cool sign on the door of the Advance Elementary School (along with one that said that all Advance R-4 School District facilities are closed until further notice. A man who saw me at the door said they were closed for the rest of the school year, and hoped they might open again by August).
Mrs. Tanner, Mrs. Theresa, Mrs. Christina and Mr. Jones wanted pupils to know “We really miss you!”
“P.S.,” it continued, “I used the ‘smelly” markers. NO you cannot smell them through the window (smiley face).”
There are some bright spots around
Flowers south of Leopold 05-05-2020
I pulled off on the side of a gravel road somewhere between Advance and Leopold to take a look at this field of yellow.
If you don’t hear from me, it’s because Brother Mark’s plot to move up in the Brother Universe was successful.
My former Palm Beach Post Chief Photographer is going to be disappointed. Every May 4, John J. Lopinot sends me a cryptic two-word message: “Never Forget.” He and I both know what he’s referring to – the killing of four students at Kent State 50 years ago. I haven’t forgotten, but this might be the last post on the topic.
Bear with me. I’ll get around to the point in a bit. With advanced age comes forgiveness for meandering.
2015 The Sky Has Fallen exhibit
Sky Has Fallen exhibit opening 04-17-2015
In the spring of 2015, Curator Jessica and I put together a major photo exhibit on the protest era at Ohio University for the Southeast Ohio History Center. The title of the show came from what has become Ohio University Post legend.
After a night of rioting two weeks after Kent State, the decision was made to close the university. The student newspaper, The Post, was on a hard deadline to get the story in print. Just before it hit the presses, someone said, “We don’t have a weather report for tomorrow.”
Editor Andy Alexander, a darned good journalist then and now, said, “Just write, ‘The sky has fallen.’”
A journey to Kent State
Kent State 08-25-2014
Jessica and I paid a visit to the Kent State May 4 Visitor’s Center to see how they handled the event and to see if there was any way we could collaborate with other Ohio museums for the 50th anniversary.
‘I didn’t want to be eating grass when I died’
Our guide was a fellow in a wheelchair who could glide up the hills of the grounds as fast as I could walk up them.
We were halfway through our tour when I realized the man was Dean Kahler, one of the students who had survived being shot that day. I hadn’t prepared to shoot a video, but I managed to capture his haunting tale. It was one of the most moving interviews I’ve ever done.
“I knew I had been shot because it felt like a bee sting. I knew immediately because my legs got real tight, then they relaxed just like in zoology class when you pith a frog,” he said. He never walked again, but he has turned into a highly competitive wheelchair athlete.
After the shooting stopped, he called out to see if there were any Boy Scouts around who could turn him over. “The only thought that came into my head was if I was turned over, would I bleed more internally than externally? I thought (shrugs shoulders) there’s a 50 / 50 chance that you’re going to die one way or the other. I knew I might die. I had a really good chance of dying, so I wanted to see the sky, the sun, leaves, peoples faces. I didn’t want to be eating grass when I died.”
What are we going to do for the anniversary?
Ohio University Protests
Jessica and I wondered how we were going to mark the 2020 anniversary of the event. What could we do that would add a new dimension to what we had already done?
I suggested reaching out to some Athens county residents and assembling a panel to talk about what they remembered. Not long after that, Jessica became a new mother, and we didn’t talk as often as we once did. I suspect she had barely enough energy to take care of ONE baby.
When the world changed because of COVID-19, I said, “I guess I don’t need to work to get a 50th anniversary show catalog to the printer, do I?”
1970 and 2020
She said she didn’t have any idea when they’d be able to open the museum, but it certainly wouldn’t be by May 4.
Then she said something that gave me pause: “There are a lot of similarities between 1970 and 2020. In both years, the university closed, graduation was cancelled, and the town emptied of students.
How about I come back to Athens?
After thinking about it for a couple days, I tossed out an idea: how about I come back to Athens to shoot a Portrait of the Pandemic? I will have missed the mass evacuation, but I could still document the empty streets, people in masks (or not), signage, anything that will help paint the picture of 2020, much like I had done with the turmoil and teargas of the ’60 and ’70s?
I still have the gas mask
I mean, I still had the gas mask Ed Pieratt shot my photo wearing during the riots. I could dust it off again.
I’m in the middle of reading John M. Barry’s excellent book, The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History. (He also wrote Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, a book I’ve read three times, and learned something new each time.)
Sign in Jackson, Mo., funeral home
That book has scared the bejeebers out of me because I’m in at least 2-1/2 of the high-risk categories. The more and more I read about governors opening up their states before we are anywhere near sure we are out of the woods, the more uncomfortable I became with the idea of driving 528 miles one-way to photograph people on the street.
When I was trying to justify the idea to some friends, I said that I had spent most of my life running into places other people were running out of. I may have made some bad judgments in retrospect, but I never made them without considering the risks.
It was time to do some serious risk analysis before jumping into this project.
In the end, I told Jessica that I’m not 21 years old anymore. I’ve dodged bullets in my life (literally), but I didn’t think it was prudent for me to risk what’s left of my days. I still have lots of film to scan.
I’m practicing social distancing
I’m trying to limit the number of places I shop, I wear a mask, and try not to have much contact with other people. The latter reason is why the only person I photographed wearing a mask was me at the top of the page.
Here are some images from stores in the Cape Girardeau area (plus some masks a friend left taped to my front door). You can click on any of them, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.
Vistors DO come by the house
Phoebe – Deer 05-02-2020
I’m not completely isolated. I parted the curtains to see Phoebe the feral cat and a couple deer visitors the other night. They weren’t wearing masks, but they were observing proper social distancing.
Previous May 4 posts
Here’s a list of stories and photos I’ve posted about the Kent State and protest era over the years. I’m not sure if I’ll be adding to it. Sorry, Lopi.