Photos around Cape Archives

April 29, 2010April 30, 2010

Bill & Sue Roussel Keep the 50s Alive

Every class needs a Keeper of The Flame. Bill and Sue Roussel produce The Tiger Update, an email newsletter that keeps more than 1,000 classmates and friends of the Cape Central High School 1950s decade in touch with each other. It’s a combination of good news, bad news and shared memories.

Sue sort of fell into the job by accident when she tried to track down classmates for a reunion. Before long, she was getting letters (some hand-scrawled in writing styles that indicated that penmanship might not have been the person’s best class), emails and phone calls. “I created a monster,” she said.

Sue raises people from the dead

Bill says his wife is a “bird dog for details. She hasn’t mastered walking on water, but she’s started raising people from the dead. She’s gotten reports of classmates who have died and called the family for more information. Several times they’ve responded by saying, ‘Well, let me hand the phone to him and he can tell you himself.'”

Now that the classmates are getting older, it’s not unusual for some of the newsletters to be grim reading with accounts of deaths and illness. “Since everyone has scattered out, used to we didn’t find out someone had died until five years or the next reunion. That’s why I put the obituaries in there,” Sue explained.

Bill recently had a scare

Overnight, he had an onset of confusion where he couldn’t even identify family members. He was taken to a hospital emergency room where a CAT scan showed that he had bleeding on his brain. He was rushed to surgery, where several holes were bored into his skull to relieve the pressure.

His recovery was miraculous. I had never met Bill and Sue, and I was a little reluctant to impose on them so soon after this medical emergency, but they said to come on over. It never dawned on me that the vital, vibrant guy who opened the door could be Bill, considering the seriousness of his condition only days earlier.

Sue knew her friends on the newsletter would be concerned, so she fired off email and Facebook updates as soon as she got the good news about Bill. There was a huge outpouring of concern, with as many as 40 friends showing up at the hospital.

“Between the newsletter and Facebook, it was like practice for the funeral,” Bill quipped.

“If we took money, it’d be work”

Sue said the updates take about three or fours each. “People ask us why we don’t charge anything. We tell them, that if we took money, then that’d be work. Right now it’s fun.”

The Tiger updates started out as a once a month thing. As more and more people started contributing, their frequency increased. Usually there is at least one update a week, but during Christmas season, there may be enough content to have two or three a week, Sue said.

Keeping memories alive

Bill said that Tommy Meisner – Class of ’58 – told him, “I can look at that update and there’ll be just one little incident or one picture of a place that I’d figure would be all gone – that I’d have no memory of that left – but my mind will get to working on it. I’ll work on it for days. Then I’ve generated a whole bunch of other memories. It’s magical.”

If anyone wants to sign up for the Tiger Updates focusing on the 1950s, leave a comment and I’ll pass it on to Bill and Sue. Jerry and Margi Stout Whitright do a similar newsletter for the 1960s classmates. I had hoped to stop in and see them in Ellijay, GA, on my way south, but our schedules didn’t match up.

April 29, 2010April 15, 2021

Walther’s Becomes Discovery Playhouse

Volunteers were busy converting the old Walther’s Furniture Store and Funeral Home at 502 Broadway into the Discovery Playhouse when I was home earlier this spring. It opened April 22.

It looks like it’s going to be a great place for kids to cool off during Cape’s hot and humid summer.

Playhouse starting on the ground floor

The Playhouse is a two-story building, with an attached section that rises to three floors. All of the work is concentrating on the first floor at this time, with the other floors to be developed as funds become available.

Landmark sign to stay

I was told that the landmark Walther’s sign will remain, although it will be changed somewhat. I don’t know what those changes are.

The old parts of the building and the views from the windows fascinated me more than the playhouse in progress.

1916 was a big year

A Missourian roundup on Dec. 31, 1916, said that “1916 is prominent for the number of fine business houses erected, among them being the new home of the Buckner-Ragsdale, ‘Quality Corner Store,’ a handsome structure, the upper floor of which is occupied by the Cape Girardeau Business College; Walther Brothers Furniture Store, one of the largest in Missouri outside the three largest cities; the I. Ben Miller ice cream and candy factory, declared by State Dairy Commissioner Bennett to be the finest in the State of Missouri; the Meyer-Suedekum Hardware Company’s building and others.”

That’s a lot of landmark businesses in year. Meyer-Suedekum (now Meyer Supply) is the only one that has survived.

501-503 Broadway

Looking to the south from the second floor of the building, you can see 501 and 503 Broadway across the street. Hinchey-Greer Merchantile company occupied 501 Broadway around 1906. Alvin Cotner modified the building in 1919 or 1920 to house the Auto Parts Company, which was there until 1957. Cape Paint and Glass occupied the property from 1958 through 1991. An interior connection between the two buildings was made somewhere between 1908 and 1915.

Mural sponsored by Trinity Lutheran Church

A mural, sponsored by Trinity Lutheran Church is on the west wall of 503 Broadway. It reads, “Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not turn from it.” That’s probably fitting to be across from the Discovery Playhouse.

It’s easy to get lost in old newspaper stories

While researching the Walther’s history, I got sidetracked with stories of the 1918 Influenza Epidemic and accounts of local boys going “over there” to fight the “huns.” One thing that surprised me on the front page of the May 13, 1921 Missourian, was a pair of obituaries.

The first was three paragraphs giving an account of the funeral of Allbright Walther, retired furniture dealer of Cape Girardeau. It contained very little personal information.

Directly under it, was one headlined, “Sam Randol, Ice Dealer Is Dead; Long Illness Fatal to Colored Man.” It went on to say that “Sam Randol, well-known colored ice dealer, died at his home…following a long illness with dropsy. It listed his relatives and the organizations he belonged to and some funeral arrangements.

It concluded by saying that “Randol was among the better colored citizens of Cape Girardeau and stood high both among the people of his race as well as among the white citizens. He had been in the ice business here since a young man and was known by most every family in the city.”

I would never have expected the second obit to have been given such prominence in that era. He must have really been an exceptional person.

Walther’s was the city’s oldest retail store

A business column announcing the closing of the furniture store in 1984 said it had been open continuously for 120 years, making it the oldest retail business in town.

Gallery of photos from Walther’s Furniture / Discovery Playhouse

Here is a selection of photos taken of the Discovery Playhouse renovation and views of the neighborhood. As always, click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the photo to move through the gallery.

April 27, 2010August 21, 2021

The Humanity of Crashes

I can’t even begin to count how many car crashes I’ve been to. I’ve seen every variation: car vs car, car vs train, car vs tree, head-ons where both cars inexplicably veered across the centerline to meet in the middle of the road….

In every case, though, there’s that moment when the sounds of busting glass and ripping metal stop and there’s an awful silence, punctuated only by the sounds of dripping fluids and the eerie popping sound that a hot engine makes cooling down.

People at their best

Long before anyone official shows up, ordinary citizens step up to help the injured. I’ve always tried to avoid photographing victims when they are at their most vulnerable. I’d rather shoot the folks who rush in and do their best to give aid and comfort to the scared, confused and injured.

All my negative sleeve says about the crash above is Highway 61 – man pinned in car – 5/1/67. I didn’t see the photo in The Missourian the next day, so it might not have run. I DID enter it in the Ohio College Newspaper Association photo contest in the fall and it won something.

I’ve always been touched by the tender way that the rain-drenched man, with a raindrop getting ready to run off his left eyebrow, cradles the head of the victim, while another man tries to force the car door open.

Even Joe James gets tired

Joe James started James Wrecker in 1930 with a 1927 truck he converted into a wrecker. If you were anywhere near Cape when you bent metal badly enough that you couldn’t drive, it was probably a James wrecker that hauled you off. I’m going to put together a collection of James’ photos one of these days, but this has always been one of my favorite photos of the man that I think was Joe James.

I don’t know if I just caught him when he was a little tired or if he was in a reflective mood.

The crashes were coming closer

I arrived a few minutes early for an assignment for The Gastonia Gazette, so I decided to kill some time waiting in my car. In the distance, I could hear a train whistle. I watched a car dart across the train crossing a couple hundred feet away and thought, “I should set up and photograph cars trying to beat the train.” Just as I thought that, a car crossed directly into the path of the train and was pushed up the tracks, throwing sparks and pieces for about a block and a half.

I ran to the car and held a 16-year-old boy while his life flickered away. A Gastonia policeman came up, gave us one look, reached for his radio and said, “You can slow ’em down. It’s just a 10-7 (radio code for out of service) N-word.”

This one almost got me

A few days later, I went out to a crash on I-85. It wasn’t much of a wreck and I don’t know if I even shot a frame, but it stopped traffic just over a rise. I turned to walk back to my car when I had a bad feeling. Just then, I heard an 18-wheeler lock down his brakes and plow into the string of stopped cars.

Within seconds, a trooper and some truck drivers turned to prying the victims out of the wrecks. I heard later that the trooper in the center of the photo got chewed out for allowing himself to be photographed without his hat. I never did find out if that was true or just a case of a another trooper pulling my leg.

It was several weeks before I got over the crazy feeling that my premonitions were coming true and that the crashes were getting closer to me every time.

April 26, 2010July 14, 2015

Old McKendree Chapel Won’t Let Go

It’s hard to say why Old McKendree Chapel has always been a special place for me. Mother was a Methodist when she was growing up in Advance, but she moved over to the Lutheran side of the fence when she married my dad, so that’s not it.

I never attended any of the chapel’s camp meetings or services, but I still find myself drawn there almost every trip.

Schwinn expanded my world

When I got my Schwinn bicycle when I was 12, my world expanded to include rides to McKendree Chapel over roads that were mostly gravel. I can remember maxing out the speedometer on the steep downhill run leaving the chapel. I think my mother must have had to give special attention to my underwear after that trip.

When I was in high school, I rented a bicycle built for two and took a date on a ride to the chapel. It was our last date. The rule of thumb is that two things will challenge a relationship: riding a tandem bicycle and hanging wallpaper. If I’d have given her the wallpaper test, I could have saved some serious pedaling.

Chapel built in 1819

The chapel site was used by church circuit riding ministers as a meeting place to exchange information and plan for the westward expansion of Methodism as early as 1806. It was built in 1819; the local circuit resolved in 1869 to repair the building, not to replace it with a new chapel.

In 1933, the McKendree Chapel Memorial Association was founded to preserve the building. It was one of the first preservation groups in the state.

Which is the REAL chapel?

I don’t want anyone to think I actually know all this stuff. Like Wife Lila says, you don’t have to know everything, you just have to know where to find it. I get a lot of my info from Missouri Department of Natural Resources list of National Register Listings.

If you scroll down to the McKendree Chapel listing, you’ll find all kinds of interesting stuff. It’s a large file, so you may have to right-click on the file name and then select Save As and open it later with Adobe Acrobat.

One controversy is whether or not the chapel, with its exposed square log walls is the “real” version of the chapel, or if the building’s authenticity was damaged when weatherboard siding that covered the logs was removed in 1977. When I look at photos that are part of the National Register application, THAT is the church that I remember from my childhood.

I KNEW that there was something different about the building, but I didn’t know exactly what it was.

Good arguments can be made for both the weatherboard facade and for the bare logs we see today as being the “real” chapel.

I was trapped

One of the things I’ve always liked about the chapel is that it’s unlocked. There’s a locked grate over the fireplace inside to keep someone from building a fire, but a simple latch secures the double front door.

On my last visit, I decided to go inside to reminisce and to shoot some fresh interior photos. After I finished, I tried to open the door. It wouldn’t open. It’s supposed to open inward, but there was no door pull to give me any purchase on the door.

The Methodists did WHAT to you?

I tried sticking my knife blade into the crack between the doors, but no luck. I debated trying to take the door off its hinges, but didn’t want to take any chance of causing damage. After struggling for several more minutes, I was ready to admit defeat. Darned Methodists. This is an insidious recruiting technique. Once they get you into the church, you’re captured for good.

My mother was waiting outside in the car. I dialed her number hoping (a) that she had her phone with her and (b) that she had it turned it on. Fortunately, (a) and (b) were true, and after a sort of confusing conversation, “The Methodists have done WHAT with you?” she went after the caretaker who was mowing the church lawn. He opened the door from the outside and agreed that an inside door pull might be a good idea. He denied any kind of religious plot.

Oldest cemetery stone is 1821

On the south side of the road leading to McKendree Chapel is a small, peaceful cemetery with stones in very good condition for their age.

The oldest legible tombstone is for William Hooser, who died at 11 years, nine days, in 1821. The National Register application says local tradition says that he became ill and died during the 1821 camp meeting of the Methodist congregation and became the first internment.

Elizabeth Campbell died in 1865 at 95

I didn’t see William Hooser’s stone, but I did see the marker for Elizabeth Campbell, who died Feb. 26, 1865, at the age of 95. Just think, I was standing next to the remains of a woman whose life spanned the American Revolution AND the Civil War.