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April 15, 2010March 8, 2016

Stan Snell: 1921 – 2010

The first email I opened this morning was from classmate Joe Snell with bad news: his dad, Stan Snell, had died last night.

I immediately thought of the gentle, genial man that my buddies and I thought looked like Popeye the Sailor Man. He almost always had a pipe clinched between his teeth, a crinkly little grin and perpetually squinted eyes with laugh lines around them.

Active in Boy Scouts

I didn’t know Stan as well as my brothers, who were younger. By the time they got into Trinity Lutheran School’s Troop 8, my Dad was winding down his business and had more time to spend with them. Dad and Stan got to be good friends planning Scout activities and going on camping and hiking trips.

I didn’t know until I did some research that Stan had been Scoutmaster of Washington School’s Troop 15 in the late 50s. There was a story in The Missourian on Nov. 13, 1959, about him leading the troop on a foxhunt. (Animal lovers, don’t get upset. We’re not talking about REAL foxes.)

Served in World War II

There was a long piece in The Missourian Oct. 31, 1945, listing all the men being discharged from the military. I recognized a lot of the names as men I knew who never mentioned their service in the war.

Down toward the middle of the story was a single paragraph: Stanley Lee Snell, motor machinist’s mate, 519 North Main St., Cape Girardeau – Entered service, July 1, 1942; discharged Oct. 3, 1945, at Coast Guard Center at San Francisco, CA, served aboard The Sequoia.

Married Miss Norma Mueller in 1946

The Missourian had a story about his wedding in the paper May 27, 1946. (The bride wore a brown, street-length dress with blue trimmings; she also wore a string of pearls given to her by the bridegroom.)

I’ll never forget his pipe and his grin

Most adults are sort of a blur to kids, but Stan Snell is a man I’ll never forget. He was a genuinely nice guy. There’s not enough of those around these days.

Here’s his official obituary

From the funeral home web site:

Stanley Lee Snell, 88, of Cape Girardeau passed away Thursday, April 15, 2010 at Southeast Missouri Hospital in Cape Girardeau.

He was born December 19, 1921, in McClure, Illinois, son of Lee J. and Dora Moore Snell. He and Norma Ruth Mueller were married May 18, 1946 in Cape Girardeau. Snell was a veteran of WWII, serving in the United States Coast Guard from May 3, 1943 to October 3, 1945.

He worked 30 years as office manager for Wiethop Truck Sales, retiring in 1987. He was a member of Trinity Lutheran Church in Cape Girardeau since 1946, and was a former treasurer of the Men’s Club. His civic affiliations included membership in American Legion Post 63 and the Disabled American Veterans, both in Cape Girardeau. He volunteered many years with the Boy Scouts, serving as Scout Master for Troops 8 and 15 in Cape Girardeau, and in 1962 he became a Vigil Honor Member of the Order of the Arrow.

Loving survivors include his wife of 63 years, Norma of Cape Girardeau; a son, Joseph L. (Marguerite) of Lake St. Louis , Mo. ; a daughter-in-law, Sharon Snell of Cape Girardeau ; four grandchildren; and five great-grandchildren.

He was preceded in death by a son, the Rev. Jerry L. Snell (5-16-1996); two brothers; and one sister.

Friends may call Sat., Apr. 17, from 10AM until time of service, at Trinity Lutheran Church in Cape Girardeau.

Funeral service will be Saturday, at 11:00 AM with the Rev. Douglas Breite officiating. Interment will follow in Memorial Park Cemetery in Cape Girardeau. Memorials may take the form of contributions to Living Hope, c/o Trinity Lutheran Church.

McCombs Funeral Home in Cape Girardeau is in charge of arrangements.

April 6, 2010July 2, 2010

Cape Boy Enroute Florida

By the time you read this, I should be half-way back to West Palm Beach. I started to type “half-way home,” but that wouldn’t be exactly true.

I’ve told the story about being stopped at a roadblock near Dutchtown a few years back. A Missouri Highway Patrol officer politely asked for my license and registration. “Florida,” he said. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

“No, sir,” I replied honestly. “When I’m in FLORIDA, I’m a long way from home.

My brother Mark collects all kinds of stuff. One of his treasures is this mileage chart that used to hang in a service station back when they were more than places that pumped gas and sold you beer and lottery tickets.

You’ll notice that the chart shows the distance to places as close as Sikeston (33 miles) and as far away as San Francisco (2,195 miles); it has Illinois, Tennessee, Nevada, New York, Arkansas, Texas and Michigan.

What’s missing?

Florida

The sign maker must have deduced that there was no reason a self-respecting Missouri Boy would ever need to go to Florida.

There’s something to be said for that.

The past month I’ve spent in Cape has made me appreciate this area more than I ever expected. It’s the most fun I’ve had running around shooting photos and connecting with folks since my old Athens, OH, days when I was doing daily photo essays.

I have such a backlog of new material I don’t even know where to start. Folks have been exceedingly kind to open their homes, their scrapbooks, their libraries and to share their stories.

I’ve had accidental encounters with classmates I haven’t seen since 7th grade at Trinity Lutheran School (Patti Haas, who no longer wears pigtails), and a fellow I gave my business card to 30 years ago.

I haven’t downloaded my GPS track from this trip, but I filled up my gas tank at least three times once I got here, so I’ve driven almost as many miles AROUND Cape as I did to get here.

Mother was my “spotter”

My “spotter” for most of those miles was my mother, Mary Steinhoff. She’s always up for an adventure, so all I had to do was rattle the keys and she was headed for the door.

She’d point out birds in nests, old country cemeteries with tombstones barely peeking above the brush and she didn’t flinch when I’d drive right past signs reading, “Road Closed – Under Water.”

She kept up a running commentary about people, places and things throughout the whole trip. She didn’t complain when I’d leave her sitting in the car while I was engrossed in a conversation with someone or trying for “one more” photo.

When I’d get back, she’d ask me, “Did you find out X?” or “did you ask her Y?” She’d have made a great editor because she could always come up with a question I wish I had asked.

She also took with good grace the yarn my brother used to spin about her arm. “You had to go and tell everyone about that? It’s bad enough that close friends and family have heard the story. Now EVERYONE has heard it.”

She misses the toothbrush

After we had already extended our Cape stay by a week, long-suffering Wife Lila decided to fly back to Florida so she could get back to work. When she hopped into Mark’s car to catch a flight out of St. Louis, she (nor I) knew that I’d be here almost two additional weeks.

I knew where I stood when I got an email message from her saying that she missed the electric toothbrush she had left with me.

Advertising was a disappointment

One of my goals was to find some advertisers or sponsors for the site. I was convinced that this would be a good vehicle for someone. When I prepared my sales materials in the middle of March, the site had about 4,000 visits per months and 155 subscribers. This morning, it was 6,694 visits and 218 subscribers. Those are good numbers for a niche blog only six months old.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to connect with anyone. Some folks read and loved it, but didn’t have any money; others didn’t bother to even return my email. This area is a little behind the Internet curve: many businesses don’t have a web presence that I could direct a link to, even if they WANTED to advertise.

Love or money

I learned a long time ago that you can either work for love or for money, rarely both. Looks like I’m working for love until I come up with a better business model.

Photo blogging takes lots of gadgets

If things are a little light for a few days, it’s because I have to unpack and set all this equipment back up when I get to West Palm Beach. You don’t realize how many wires are involved until you see them spread out all over the desktop.

March 26, 2010March 8, 2015

Cape Girardeau Then & Now

Some time between graduating from Central High School in 1965 and leaving for Ohio University in 1967, I hopped on a train in Cape Girardeau to go to a National Press Photographers Association Flying Short Course. I heard two things at that seminar that influenced my photography from then on.

Ken Heyman and This America

A photographer named Ken Heyman illustrated This America, A Portrait of a Nation, by President Lyndon B. Johnson. At that stage in my career, I thought any photograph that was published in a book had to be great. Looking back at it now, I know that some of the photos WERE iconic, some were solid images and some were merely pedestrian, at best.

Two photographers were sitting in front of me. One turned to the other and whispered, “I could shoot pictures better than that.”

His buddy responded, “Yeah, but the difference between him and you is that HE actually did it.”

Tom Neumeyer actually did it

I’ve never forgotten that lesson.

When I got back to Cape a couple of weeks ago, those the words I heard at that seminar 40-plus years ago came flooding back at me when I heard that some guy named Tom Neumeyer was holding a book signing for his new photo documentary book, Cape Girardeau Then & Now.

It’s a collection of 120 vintage photographs paired with what you would find at those locations today.

I COULD HAVE done that book. TOM did it.

When we went to Cape’s new public library (which is really nice, by the way) and I saw framed photos from the book hanging on the wall, I knew I had to have a copy.

Small world department

The person who took my money was Carolyn Penzel, another member of the Class of 65.

When I got up to Tom to have my book signed, he recognized my name and asked how [Family nickname my wife has been trying to leave behind for almost half a century] was.

Just about that time, Don and Marty (Perry) Riley, my in-laws walked in.

Life’s like a pinball game

I’ve always admired folks who know what they are going to do and go after goals in a straight line. My career path has been more like a pinball game where outside influences bounced me all over the place. I was reminded of that when I ran into a some people who had a major part in my life as a newspaper photographer.

I saw my Mother, Mary Steinhoff, (left) talking with Jo Ann Bock, who is a multifaceted writer and former teacher who was married to Howard Bock. When I came to Central High School as a freshman, Mr. Bock knew I had an interest in photography. He invited me to join The Tiger and Girardot photo staffs and taught me how to process film and make prints. When he died in May 2009, I discovered many things I never knew about the man.

I was admiring Tom’s photos on the wall when a man walked up and said, “I used to be Gary Rust.”

“I used to be Ken Steinhoff,” I countered.

Gary Rust, now a newspaper magnate, got me my first newspaper job. John Hoffman, the editor and publisher of The Jackson Pioneer had been in an auto accident that severely injured him and and killed his wife. Gary knew he needed help in the office, so he recommended me.

I think the recommendation was more because I had been dating the granddaughter of the local head of the Republican Party, and I was a rabid Barry Goldwater supporter, than it was for any journalistic prowess.

By the time I left the paper, I learned how to be a reporter, photographer, typesetter, layout editor, photo engraver… all for the munificent sum of $75 every two weeks.

There IS a market for photo books

Years ago, I helped illustrate a book, New Burlington: The Life and Death of an American Village. The writer encouraged me to turn my photos into a book of its own, but I was told “picture books don’t sell.”

I’m glad to see that Tom is proving an exception to that rule. So many people bought his books that they had to scurry out to the car to bring in extra boxes.

Where to find Then & Now

I see copies of his book all over Cape. Here’s a note he sent me with a list of places to find it.

Arts Council of Southeast Missouri
Annie Laurie’s Antiques
Back Porch Antiques
Broadway Books and Roasting
Convention & Visitors Bureau
Crisp Museum
Cup’N’Cork
Grassroots BMW
Lang’s Jewelry
Mississippi Mud House
Neumeyer Photography
Old Town Cape
Renaissance
SEMO University Bookstore
Somewhere in Time Antiques
Stev-Mark

Tom said Dr. Frank Nickell’s website has an order form to download.

What was that second thing?

I mentioned that I came away from that seminar in Peoria with two life-defining messages.

The second was from Louisville Courier-Journal photographer Bill Strode who talked about photo ethics. “If I set up a photograph and there are only two people in the room – me and the subject – then that’s two too many people in the world who know that I’m a damned liar.”

Gallery of book signing photos

One of the nice things about doing this as a blog instead of as a newspaper story is that I won’t get in trouble if I don’t identify all of the people in the pictures. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the image to step through the gallery.

January 6, 2010January 6, 2010

Capaha Lagoon: Funny What You Forget

The Southeast Missourian’s Don Gordon was a reporter of the old school. There was no flash and trash to him. He did what are dismissed today as “dull but necessary” stories – the kind that keep politicians and bureaucrats honest. I learned a lot from him in the three years we worked together.

I tried to emulate him, down to this crazy way he’d wrap a leg around the typewriter on the stand in front of him, like he was afraid it was going to sneak away or someone was going to steal it. I’m sure he was amused by my imitation, but he was kind enough never to make fun of me. When he got into a rhythm, his typing sounded like a machine gun going off.

He had kind of a long, hang-dog look and a perpetual five-o’clock shadow. I never saw him get stressed or angry, no matter what was going on.

We kept track for a long time; the last time we saw each other, he was working in Paducah, Ky. Then, he fell off the radar screen.

He always mentioned his favorite picture

Whenever we got together, he never failed to mention his favorite photo: a shot he said I took of a couple of kids fishing in the Capaha Park Lagoon oblivious to a dog eating their lunch.

I never had the heart to tell him that I thought he was mistaken. I couldn’t ever recall taking a picture like that. In fact, I had a sequence of photos of kids fishing that I thought he might have been thinking of, but none of them had a dog in them.

Still, I’ll take compliments anyplace I can get them. If someone wants to credit me for what they thought was a memorable photo, I’ll nod my head and agree.

Son of a gun, I DID shoot a picture like that

It was a single frame clipped off the front or back of a roll of film and stuck in with some unrelated photos. The date on the outside of the glassine sleeve says 4/21/67. That date might be right. It looks like it could have been spring. The kids are wearing sweatshirts or sweaters and there are leaves on the trees.

Don’t doubt the Master

Just goes to show that you should never question your old mentor when he tells you that you done good.