Cape Girardeau History and Photos
News photos that have grown whiskers and have become history
Some days I may not know the name of the play, but I can guess the name of the school. Here, I don’t recognize the play, the actors, the stage, the set or the school. They look a little old for high school students. Could it be a SEMO play? You’re on your own with this one.
Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.
Almost every kid in Cape had a crack at radio and / or TV fame. I can remember going to the KFVS radio studio to sit on Santa’s lap and to tell him (and the whole world as I knew it) what I wanted for Christmas.
There was a local radio quiz show called Know Your City Quiz that would ask questions about Cape’s history. I’d sit there with my second-grade-level picture history book frantically rooting for the answer to such questions as, “When did Cape get its first fire engine.” The book had all kinds of stuff about some guy named Washington crossing some river in the middle of the winter, but not important stuff like Cape’s first fire engine. (What was that guy doing standing up in the boat, anyway? Even I knew enough not to do THAT.)
I think my TV debut might have been during Scout Week in the eighth grade or my freshman year. Boy Scout Troop 8 was supposed to have someone tap out “Scouting is fun” in Morse code, but the guy who was supposed to do it backed out at the last minute for some reason or other. I could send like a demon (but couldn’t receive worth two cents), so I was sent in as a sub.
Dad set up the family’s 8mm camera to record the moment off the Zenith television in the basement. For what it’s worth, he had a guy working for him who could read code who pronounced my transmission flawless. I’m not sure who the Scout was looking in awe over my shoulder.
The whole escapade ended with future debate partner John Mueller being interviewed. I’m sure he said something about how important being able to send Morse code would be in an emergency. Unspoken was the fact that my buzzer couldn’t be heard on the far side of the room and that the little light on the key was a tiny flashlight bulb. I guess it was OK for close emergencies.
A couple of years later, John and I traded in our Scout uniforms for suits and ties to be undefeated members of the Central High School Debate Team.
Here’s a bunch of us getting ready to wreak havoc on the teams from the smaller schools in the area. That’s John on the right. I’m to his left. I see, in no particular order, Mike Daniels, Rick Meinz, Andy Scully, Shari Stiver, Vicky Roth, Jim Reynolds, Becky McGinty and Bill Wilson, among others whose names are lost in the fog of years.
I’ve run this before, but some pictures deserve to be resurrected from time to time. John, Rick Meinz and I got dragooned into dressing up like this for a church play at Trinity Lutheran Church.
Someone Higher Up (well, not THAT higher up) cut my best line, “We’re the Three Counts: Count de Bills, Count de Checks and Count de Change.” I lost enthusiasm for my part after that. Heck of a note when the only line you can remember from a role is the one they wouldn’t let you deliver.
I made about as good a soldier as I did a Lutheran Reverend and donned the uniform just about as long.
I wanted to do a story on the local National Gurard contingent going to summer camp. The Higher Ups (does this sound familiar) wouldn’t let a civilian ride in the convoy, so an enterprising Master Sergeant said, “I’ve got it all worked out. Come on by and get fitted for a uniform. You’ll look like everybody else. Nobody’ll know.”
Here’s the brief story of my National Guard career. I’ll have to scan the photos one of these days, even if they were taken in Florida. I’m happy with several of them.
Tom Mueller, younger brother of my old debate partner, John Mueller, sent me an email the other day that he and his mother had gone up to Altenburg to the Lutheran Heritage Center and Museum where the bought a copy of my photo book, Tower Rock: “A Demon That Devours Travelers.” (Shameless plug will appear at the end of this.)
The Mueller family was prominent in Wittenberg, just down the hill, so he thought I’d be interested in talking with his mother. We made arrangements for Tom, his mother and his friend Becky Kleckner to come over Sunday evening to look at old pictures.
This gave me an opportunity to drag out a bunch of photos that I think he might have rather have stayed lost to history, but this shot of Trinity Lutheran School’s Boy Scout Troop 8 was deemed acceptable for public display. (Buying my book gives you a lot of leeway over my picture selections.) You can click on the picture to make it larger.
Right after we shook hands, he agreed that he wouldn’t call me Kenny if I wouldn’t call him Tommy. Deal.
TOM is in the back row, fifth from the left. I’m guessing this was probably taken around 1966, so almost all of these boys were younger brothers of my classmates. Little brothers weren’t something that older guys paid much attention to, so I’m just going to throw out some last names since I notice family resemblances.
In the back couple of rows, I see what has to be a Huckstep, a Pensel, Brad Verhines and Ralph Fuhrmann. The two guys standing at the far right are Ronnie Dost and Joe Snell. Ronnie died right after we graduated, so he’s frozen as Ronnie forever in my mind. He and Joe were both Central High Class of ’65, so they deserve two names.
The two men kneeling in the center are Assistant Scoutmaster Harry Ruesler and Scoutmaster Ralph Haman. Ralph’s son is in front of him. I’m pretty sure that’s an O’Connell second from the left, kneeling.
The middle row has, I think, a Fiehler, a Boardman and a Ruesler in it.
This was an orderly grouping. You can tell from all the scuff marks on the floor that the troop was usually about one atomic particle from attaining critical mass and exploding in every direction. (Jim Stone will probably tell me my analogy is all wrong, but that’s why he was a physicist and I was a photographer.)
My kid tells me I should be pitching my book harder. So, if you’d like to have a book of pretty pictures of Tower Rock, contact these folks. It costs $14 if you pick it up yourself, which I encourage you to do. The museum just finished setting up their Christmas exhibit and they tell me it’s better than 2010. Admission is free, so that’s a double good deal, because shipping and handling on the book is five bucks and you won’t get to see the exhibit.
Lutheran Heritage Center & Museum
P.O. Box 53
75 Church Street
Altenburg, Missouri 63732
Telephone
573-824-6070
Email:
info@altenburgmuseum.org
I don’t know if I shot this photo of Anne Buchanan or not. I have the negative, which would make me think I did. On the other hand, the exposure and lighting are better than what I was generally capable at that stage in my career. Still, even a blind hog can find an acorn from time to time. Maybe I got lucky.
I’m not exactly sure why the photo was taken. If I had to bet, I’d bet that it had to do with that big trophy she’s holding. What’s odd is that it has a car on it. I didn’t know Anne well enough to know if she was a car racer, collector of special cars or what the trophy was for.
That’s the Anne I remember. Every hair in place, a friendly smile and a look that says “I know I’m going to photograph well, even if the photographer IS a klutz with a plastic pocket protector.”
She and the other cheerleaders are collecting for the March of Dimes in 1963. Anne is on the right.
The 1965 Girardot Senior Directory listed her activities: Secretary of the Tigerettes; Silver Spear ’62 1-Act Play; French Club; Girardot Business Staff; President of Homeroom; Cheerleader; Psychology Forum; National Honor Society; Football Queen Candidate; Senior Queen Candidate; Library Assistant; Red Dagger, Talent Show.
When I had lunch with Terry Hopkins and Pat Sommers the other day, we played the usual game of “I wonder what ever happened to…” They shocked me by reeling off a number of our classmates who won’t be showing up for the next reunion. Sadly, Anne’s name was on the list. I hope they were mistaken. It’s hard to think of someone as vibrant as Anne Buchanan not being around forever just like she was captured in the lead photo.
Ronald Dost and I went to school from kindergarten through Central High School Shortly after we graduated, his was the first obituary I wrote of a contemporary. Gary Schemel was the first of our classmates to die in Vietnam. When I went to the Class of 1961’s 50th Reunion, they had a moving video of the 40+ members gone from their class.
The sand, it appears, is running out.