Washington School Reduced to Mud, Mulch and Memories

Washington School March 25, 2010

It’s amazing what a few months will do to the landscape of your home town. When I was in Cape in October, Washington School was still there.

You can see my story about a 1963 school party at this link.

Washington School October 13, 2009

The school, which had served the Cape Girardeau School District for 85 years, was closed in 1999. Southeast Missouri State University used it for storage until it was determined that repairs and increased utility costs were becoming too great.

Alaina Busch touched on the history of the school in a Nov. 3, 2009, Missourian story: Classes began in a farmhouse in 1911 after a failed bond issue. In 1913, voters approved a $125,000 bond issue that financed the construction of Washington School as well as other district projects. The school, which was originally 40,000 square feet, opened at 621 N. Fountain St. in 1914.

The University will use the land for parking for the Autism Diagnosis and Treatment Center.

Washington School Gallery

Here’s a gallery of photos showing the school in October and in March. Click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the picture to move through the gallery.

Murtaugh Park in Historical Triangle

I parked the car on Main Street near the Red House to walk across to photograph the Synagogue and St. Vincent’s Church. As I was crossing the median, I almost bumped into a stone monument with a corroded plaque attached to it.

MURTAUGH PARK

Named for Rev. James A. Murtaugh C.M.

Commemorating His

Civic Efforts

Time goes by after public buildings, streets, parks and bridges are named after someone special and our memories fade or the name becomes just a name, not a memorial. I often say that you live only so long as someone remembers you.

Who was James A. Murtaugh?

And, why did he deserve a skinny sliver of a park? A Google search turns up pretty empty. He was assistant pastor of St. Vincent’s Church (which is visible in this photo) and President of St. Vincent’s College.

He was known for being active in civic affairs and doing much to reduce friction between the city’s Catholic and Protestants. An Oct. 2, 1934, Missourian article said, “By his activity, he removed all imaginary lines between Catholics and Protestants and developed a united community.”

He was an early proponent of paving streets and roads. Paving Main Street had the side advantage, I read somewhere, that parishioners could now use the front door of the church without tracking mud inside.

Rev. Murtaugh died in 1916. The Knights of Columbus dedicated the memorial marker Oct. 14, 1928.

Synagogue, Catholic church and Red House

Murtaugh Park is in a perfect historical triangle between the Catholic Church, the Jewish Synagogue and the restoration of Lorimier’s Red House.

In 1958, The Missourian editorialized against a plan to remove the park to create more parking along Main St. The tiny park also memorialized Police Chief N.J. (Jeff) Hutson, who was shot and killed in the line of duty Oct. 7, 1922. The Lion’s Club planted a hawthorn tree in his honor on Arbor Day in 1923.

No big Hawthorne trees

I don’t see any large hawthorn trees north of the Murtaugh monument.

It must have gone the way of a the large, spreading hawthorne tree, “one of the finest specimen of its kind to be found anywhere,” that was planted by the Wednesday Club on April 11, 1923, to honor Miss Amy Husband Kimmel, who founded the club in 1902.

A Southeast Missourian story July 7, 1956, headlined Amy Kimmel Hawthorn, Long Pride of the Community, Is Ruined.

The story goes on to say, “During construction of the new flood control sewer, the east half of the tree was cut or torn away as if some giant knife blade had descended on it, leaving only the west section intact…. For many years it has been one of the show trees of the community. Now, butchered and distorted out of shape, it’s ultimate future is in doubt. At the time of the ceremony, an appropriately inscribed stone was buried beneath the tree. What has become of it?”

Kimmel marker found, relocated

A Missourian follow-up on Oct. 16, 1956, said the stone marker had been found and was going to be moved to a parkway east of the divide between Academic Hall and Kent Library. The Main St. parkway where the tree and marker had been located was paved over after the Kimmel Hawthorn was destroyed.

1967 Senior Prom

Queen Jane Dunklin

I see in The Southeast Missourian that it’s prom time in Cape County. I found a negative sleeve that  said “Senior Prom 5/20/67.” No names, of course.

These kids were two years behind me, so they were, of course, beneath notice to someone of the Class of 1965. To make matters worse, there are some days missing from The Missourian’s microfilm film on Google.

Missourian story provides hints

A Youth Page story by Margaret Randol on Feb. 4, 1967, said that “…senior boys selected five girls as candidates for Senior Queen. One girl will be chosen by the entire class at a later date.

The Queen will be crowned at the Senior Prom on May 20.

The candidates are: Miss Jane Dunklin, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Maurice Dunklin, 839 Alta Vista; Miss Mary Hale, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lemro Hale, 2209 Brookwood; Miss Mary Hirsch, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Hirsch, 1855 Thilenius; Miss Georgeanne Penzel, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Penzel, 1844 Woodlawn, and Miss Christy Seabaugh, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Wm. O. L. Seabaugh, Route 1.

No cell phone cameras

I see a Polaroid camera, a Kodak Brownie and what looks like an Argus 35mm camera in the crowd. The guy on the right is shooting with movie camera, and he has a still camera with a Honeywell Strobonar “potato masher” electronic flash hanging over his shoulder. (Hey, I may not remember the names of people, but I know my cameras.)

1928 Tiger: Boys must bring dates

The big news in the May 11, 1928, Tiger was that “Boys Must Bring Dates to Prom.”

“However, in special cases, boys will be excused if a request is filed with the [prom] committee.” The problem was that many girls said they’d be unable to attend without escorts. The senior class had almost twice as many girls as boys, so it was noted that “girls will be forced to come with other girls.”

A school in Mississippi recently canceled its prom because a girl wanted to wear a tux and bring a girl as her date. Cape solved that problem back in the 20s.

The Tiger assured its readers that “All will be furnished an enjoyable evening, however, and dances will be secured for those without dates.

“A specialty number will be the feature of the evening. Along with the fine 7-piece orchestra which has been secured, other means of enjoyment are planned. There will be confetti, serpentine, paper hats, grand marches and all the usual merry-making conveniences.”

One of the perks of the job

Here’s a little secret: photographers were usually tipped off who who was going to be crowned queen. That was so we’d be in the right position when the winner was announced. We’d have to wander around to keep from telegraphing that we knew, but I never heard of anybody giving the secret away.

It was kind of empowering at that age to know that the whole proceeding would stop for a few moments while you got the shot.

Photographer humor

That brings to mind a story about a World War II photographer for Stars and Stripes. I can’t swear it’s true, but it should be.

At the end of the war, half the soldiers in Europe and a whole herd of generals and heads of state were gathered for a ceremonial photo.

The photographer looked at the assemblage and told the highest ranking general, “Everybody take one step back.”

With much shouting and jockeying around, everyone took one step back. The photographer then took one step forward and snapped his photo.

The Stars and Stripes reporter said to the photographer later, “You must have an incredible sense of composition. What did you see that made you decide that everyone should step back and then you step forward?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “I just figured I’d never have a chance to do anything like that again in my life.”

Train Crews Still Wave

My mother and I were cruising down by Missouri Drydocks at the end of the day, when I heard a train whistle off in the direction of downtown. I thought this might make a cool shot that tied together the river, auto traffic on the bridge and a train whizzing by. If a plane would just fly into the frame and someone would walk by, I’d have all forms of transportation covered in one photo.

I waited several minutes. No train. It was chilly and windy so I started back to the car.

The train whistled again. I waited several minutes. No train.

I started back to the car. The train whistled. This dance continued until I convinced myself that the train was northbound away from me.

Of course, as soon as I got under the bridge, I met a southbound short freight that had a caboose on it. I hadn’t seen a caboose on a working train in years. I wrote it off as a missed opportunity.

I’m a sucker for trains

I remember the trip to Chaffee in grade school. When I was 14, I went to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico by train; I rode the train to and from college in Athens, Ohio; I did at least a dozen stories about trains over the years, and that doesn’t count the crashes and feature shots like this one from Ohio I used to illustrate a rail strike. The unbroken frost on the tracks got the point across that the trains weren’t running.

I rode a freight train

I spent a few nights riding a local freight dropping cars up and down the Florida East Coast line. (I knew every car that approached a crossing in front of us was going to try to beat the train and we were going to hit it. I’m not cut out to be an engineer.)

I’ve done a story on a T&S Gang, the guys who used to swing sledge hammers driving spikes in the days before mechanization. Discrimination was alive and well: white workers ate on plates in a sparkling white car; black workers were served on tin plates in a car that looked like it was left over from the Civil War.

I went from West Palm Beach to Chicago and back on the Silver Meteor;  my wife and I took the train to and from Washington, D.C. in 2003. Unfortunately, many of the stories were “last ride” ones marking the demise of rail service.

The caboose is back

We were in the downtown area when I spotted the caboose on the north end of a northbound short string of freight cars moving slowly. I sped ahead to the pumping station on N. Main where the shoe factory used to be and hopped out to shoot from the floodwall side of the tracks toward an old brick building that looked like it had been abandoned.

As the caboose pulled slowly past me, BNSF conductor Randy Graviett gave me a friendly wave.

Burlington Northern Santa Fe

I’m going to show my age by admitting that I think Frisco when I see those tracks. It took a Google search to find out that BNSF stands for Burlington Northern Santa Fe. Over the last 150 years, it’s the result of mergers that have gobbled up 390 different railroad lines.

Frisco, which was chartered as the Pacific Railroad of Missouri in 1849, looked like it was poised to take advantage of the discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill in California, but construction bogged down until the Civil War ended.

Cherokee Indians block Frisco expansion

In 1876, the southwest branch of the Pacific was purchased by the St. Louis-San Francisco Railway, but Cherokee Indians blocked survey and construction work on the line, keeping it from establishing a transcontinental railroad. The Depression took its toll, but German U-boats sinking tankers in the Atlantic during World War II created a need for a way to transport Texas and Oklahoma oil to the East Coast. Frisco became a valuable contributor to the war effort.

Burlington Northern acquired the Frisco in 1980. You can read more of the history at the BNSF web site.

Railcars decorated with graffiti

While I was waiting for the train to clear the track, I was treated to a moving art show of graffiti. These weren’t just sloppy “tags” with a spray can. Some of the works showed a nice use of color and design.

Tom T. Hall was wrong

Tom T. Hall sings a lament with the chorus,

But the engineers don’t wave from the trains anymore
Not the way they did back in 1954
They’ve all got computers and diesels and things
And the engineers don’t wave from the trains anymore
No, the engineers don’t wave from the trains.

Tom should pay a visit to Cape Girardeau. When the engine came to a stop just about in front of me, brakeman Randy Stroup gave a wave and asked if I was working on the floodwall. I said that I was taking pictures of his caboose and tried to hand him my business card.

He stepped out of the cab and we had a brief chat while the train waited for a red signal to clear. The caboose is used on the local freight spotting cars between Chaffee and Proctor & Gamble. When I commented that it was unusual to see two engines on a train that short, he said they had just gotten the second power plant “because we’ve been dealing with more tonnage lately. We hope to be able to hang on to it.”

With that, the train was given clearance to pull ahead and he was gone.

A reader in the wild

I figured that was the end of it until I got home to see this email from Kim Richmond waiting for me:

Ken, my friend was on the caboose that you took picture of today, so if you will be so kind to e-mail me when you post it I would appreciated it. His name is Randy Graviett, you also spoke to Randy Stroup. I showed them your website and have told several other people about it since I found it. I look every day or every evening to catch up on all that I have missed. How long have you been posting? Do you have any pictures of the old Sunny Hill Hotel and Restaurant or the Country store? When I was younger that was a treat to go the the Country store and Sunny Hill for ice cream. If we had extra money when I was younger we would go to Woolworth’s and have a grilled hot dog and go across the street and visit my mother who worked at Montgomery Wards or as they use to say “Monkey Wards”

Wow. I wrote about the excitement of meeting a “reader in the wild” on my other blog.

This is a first for me. I’ve never had a reader chase me down for a photo I shot BEFORE it was published. Cape is truly the land of coincidences.

Frisco Railroad Library

If you’re a train buff, interested in railroad history or want to find out more about the Frisco Railroad, here’s a great site.