Cape Girardeau History and Photos

December 21, 2014January 7, 2015

The Dreaded Word Problem

$Math book$ Let’s get this out of the way first: I was a lousy math student. I could, with some tutoring from Friend Shari and Dad, grasp the concepts, but I was too interested in debate and photography to waste time (from my perspective) doing the homework.

Geometry was even a bigger bore: I mean, why bother “proving” stuff that had already been “proven.” Come on, let’s plow some new ground here.

We had soft-cover books

$Math book 2$ We folks in the Class of ’65 had “proof” books of the Concepts of Modern Mathematics. They books were printed on regular 8-1/2 x 11″ paper and had a pink heavyweight paper front and back with some kind of black tape binding, if I recall correctly.

By the time Wife Lila’s Class of ’66 got there, the book was a real hardback with Grace Williams’ name on the flyleaf as an author.

Misses Williams and Rixman were good teachers and extraordinarily patient with the likes of me. I mentioned to Shari one day not long ago that I was sure they gave me a higher grade in their classes than I deserved.

Her theory was that if they thought a student had the potential to accomplish something if they ever pulled their act together, they’d cut them some slack rather than give them a low grade that might torpedo their chances to go on to college. I’m not sure I was THAT pitiful, but I appreciate them giving me the benefit of the doubt.

Wife Lila was more diligent

$Math book 5$ My pink-covered books are lost in a box somewhere in my storage shed, but Lila’s are out on a shelf in plain sight. You can tell from her notes that she took the class seriously. (And, seriously enough that she bought the books at the end of the year.) You can click on the images to make them larger, by the way.

This is a management problem

$Math book 3$ The problem read, “Mary and Jane complete a typing task together in 3 hours. If Mary types for 2 hours and Jane 4-1/2 hours, they complete the same task. In how many hours could Jane complete the task working alone?”

Well, this sounds more like a management problem than a math problem.

Is Mary a Chatty Cathy who distracts Jane from her typing duties, which would mean that Jane would be faster alone.
Is Jane a supervisor, who is helping Mary learn the job, so she has to do the work of two?
If Jane is that slow, shouldn’t we fire her and hire another Mary?
What if Jane is the only one in the office who knows how to make good coffee or clear the jam in the copier, and she’s constantly interrupted?

Don’t even get me started on all the unlisted variables in the touring group problem at the bottom of the page.

Who cares how high the tree was?

$Math book 4$ Problem 8 says “During a storm a tree is broken and falls with its tip touching the ground 24 feet from its base. If the top part makes an angle of 30 degrees with the ground, what was the original height of the tree?”

Who CARES how tall the tree was originally? It ain’t never gonna be that tall again.
If I’m going to climb up the trunk to determine the exact angle, why don’t I just measure the stump, then say, “Hey, Joe, catch the end of the tape and tell me how far it is to the tip of the tree.” Height of stump plus the distance from the stump to the tip of the tree equals the original height.
Of course, you’re going to take a productivity hit for the time you take to answer Joe’s question, “Hey, boss, why’d you do that?”
While I’m up there measuring the height of the stump, I might as well drag along a chainsaw to whack off the widowmaker.
If I do that, I don’t even have to throw the tape to Joe: I can just say, “Joe, cut those pieces up into four-foot lengths, then let me know how many there are.” See, simple math, I get the truck loaded and I don’t have to explain anything to Joe.

Maybe THAT’S why Misses Rixman and Williams held out hope for me: they saw me as a budding practical mathematician, not a theoretical one.

Or, more likely, they didn’t want me to repeat their course.

December 20, 2014

Fred McLard’s Log Cabin

Class of ’66 buddy Dick McClard and I were driving around after trying to locate the mass grave from the steamboat The Stonewall near Neely’s Landing this spring. We think we’re getting close, but it’s going to take some more looking.

Anyway, he suggested we go see Fred McLard’s log cabin. (That’s not a typo: those folks never could get the spelling of their names right. They answer to McClard, McLard, McLaird and MacLaird, among other things.) Dick’s on the left, Fred’s on the right.

Cabin lives inside barn

At some point long ago, a barn was built around the log cabin. The farm is across the street from the New Bethel Church, close to the intersection of County Roads 532 and 525. It’s on private property, but Fred’s a nice guy and would probably give you permission to take a look if you knocked on his door.

The view across the fields from his house is just short of spectacular, too.

Photo gallery

Here are some detail shots of the cabin. Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move around.

December 19, 2014December 19, 2014

347 North Pacific Street

The building at 347 North Pacific was purchased by Southeast Missouri State University in 1980, but I’ll always remember it as Dorington Apartments, the place where Carol Klarsfeld lived.

Carol was a tiny little thing who was always up for an adventure. There was a tale that she put more miles on her mother’s car than she was supposed to. Having a logical mind, she thought, “The speedometer counts up when the car is going forward, so it should count backward if the car is going in reverse.”

The prospect of driving many miles in reverse didn’t seem practical, so she jacked up the rear of the car, put it in gear and gunned it. Her logical skills far surpassed her mechanical skills unfortunately. In the story I heard, the jack slipped and the car took off at high speed in reverse.

When she and her mother moved from a ranch house to the Dorington Apartments, Carol was afraid that her neighbors would keep an eye on her and rat her out if she came in late or engaged in other shenanigans. She quickly found out that apartment dwellers are more anonymous than people who live in houses.

History of 437 North Pacific

I wasn’t able to find out when Carol’s apartment was built, but a search through Missourian archives turned up information about some of the people who lived at that address, most notably R.B. Potashnick and his family. Here’s a sampling of stories. Longer one contain links for more information.

January 29, 1926 – Mrs. C.W. Stehr is confined to her home suffering from injuries received when she fell on the ice in front of her home, 347 North Pacific Street, her right wrist broken in two places.
October 19, 1926 – Mrs. Farnham Clark, who has been visiting Miss Lucille Buck of 347 North Pacific for several days, left today for her home in Menoninee, Wis.
August 11, 1931 – Miss Lucille Bock and Herbert Bock, 347 North Pacific, left today for a motor trip to New Orleans and other points in the South.
October 24, 1932 – Miss Marie Kinder, 343 North Pacific Street, and Robert Richards, 347 North Pacific Street, spend several days with friends in LaSalle, Ill. Mr. Richards also transacted business while away. (There’s another brief that says “Almost every night the young people of Cape Girardeau are driving out Sprigg Street to Blue Hole for delicious sandwiches and soft drinks.”)

Why we vaccinate kids today

January 31, 1934 – Today’s contagious disease list in Cape Girardeau contained nine new names, eight measles cases and one of chicken pox being reported to City Health Officer Henry Haman, Jr. The measles cases are Mason Martin, Red Star suburb; David Phillipson, 228 North Frederick Street; Bobby Johnson, 545 South Benton Street; Jimmy Bauerle, 916 Good Hope Street; David Samuels, 123 North Spanish Street; Mary Potashnick, 347 North Pacific Street; Bobby Adams, Perryville Road; and Landess Mills, 102 North Ellis Street. Virginia Hughes, 118 North Frederick Street, has chicken pox.
June 14, 1938 – Mr. and Mrs. R.B. Potashnick, daughters Mary and Ann, 347 North Pacific Street, Mrs. Ben Vinyard, 322 North Pacific Street, Mrs. Geraldine Young, 331 Bellvue Street, and Don Black, 316 Bellvue Street, spent Monday in St. Louis and attended the Municipal Opera that night. Mr. Potashnick remained on business.
February 6, 1939 – R.B. Potashnick, a contractor, 347 North Pacific Street, spent the weekend at his home here and returned to St. Louis today on business. Mr. Potashnick last Friday was awarded a contract, aggregating over $414,000 for construction of Rural Electrification Administration project lines in the vicinity of Macon. He was recently given a contract for constructing a similar project in Elsinore and district.
September 13, 1951 – A chauffeur-driven 1950 Cadillac sedan and a 1939 Buick collided at the intersection of Hopper Road and Kingshighway Wednesday. Both automobiles were damaged. The Cadillac was owned by R.B. Potashnick, 347 North Pacific Street, and driven by Joe Nelson of 605 Merriwether Street. The Buick was driven by Ben Seitze, 1514 North Rand Street.
June 8, 1962 – The second fire within 48 hours broke out this morning at the R.B. Potashnick home, 347 North Pacific Street. The original fire caused damage estimated at $75,000 to $100,000. Chief Lewis, commenting on the [first] fire, said when firemen arrived at the house a big hole had already burned through the living room floor and a radiator had fallen through to the basement. Mr. Potashnick, a widely-known contractor whose company has handled many multi-million dollar projects throughout the country, came from St. Louis to survey the damage, but later left for Georgia on business. Mrs. Potashnick was scheduled to arrive from Ohio today.
April 2, 1968 – About $100 in underclothing was stolen from a basement clothesline in an apartment belonging to Mrs. Wayne Nations, 347 North Pacific.
November 14, 1980 – The Dorington Apartments, 347 North Pacific Street, will soon house classes in the SEMO State University’s College of Business. The university purchased the structure this week for just over $300,000.

December 18, 2014December 19, 2014

Cuban Boatlift Part 1

Road Warriorette Jan and Son Matt nagged at me this morning to dig out some of my Cuban Boatlift photos to go along with the big news that President Obama was going to thaw the Cold War that had been going on since about 1959 or thereabouts.

I protested that I hadn’t even THOUGHT about dipping into my Florida years, but they were persuasive. After about nine boxes, I hit one containing outtakes from the month (minus one day) I spent in Key West watching a flood of people who would change the face of Florida and parts of the United States.

Palm Beach Post May 6

I’ll go into more detail and publish more photos after I’ve had a chance to see what I can find. To be honest, my stomach has been a bit iffy today, and I haven’t felt like spending time in front of the scanner.

We sent a team to Mariel Harbor

We sent photographer George Millener and reporter Edgar Sanchez down to Key West to try to talk their way onto a boat going over to pick up relatives. The word was that it didn’t take long to make the 180-mile round trip. They made a quick call saying they were getting ready to depart and that they’d check in as soon as they got back.

We didn’t hear from that day, nor the next. I was director of photography and was working on a project that was going to take me all over the state, so I decided to use that leeway to check on our team since I needed to go to Key West at some point anyway.

As soon as I hit U.S. 1 south of Miami, I was in a convoy of trailered boats. Every boat that wasn’t on a trailer heading south was parked on the roadside with a For Sale sign on it.

At the Key West city marina, boats were being launched two abreast as quickly as inexperienced mariners could back the trailers up. I saw at least one Cadillac go in up to the windows when the driver backed up too far.

I called the office and said this was a bigger story than the wires were reporting and that I needed a reporter to back me up.

Dick Donovan

They couldn’t have sent a better guy: Dick Donovan was an old-time Chicago cop reporter who had a reputation for getting to the meat of a story. He would stand next to you, then, just before he asked the zinger question that was going to get the subject to react, he’d give you an elbow in the ribs to tell you to get ready.

I’ll go into more detail about the photo at the top left, but I’ll just say that this was the only time I saw Dick with tears in his eyes.

I had to walk away

It didn’t produce as many memorable photos as I would have liked, but it made some memories I’ll never forget.

I was photographing a little boy about the age of Son Matt playing with a little plastic truck just like Matt had at home. Suddenly I realized what a big change was happening in that boy’s life and wondered what the future held for him. I had to walk away for a few minutes.

A little Cuban nun who might have been stacked 4’8″ at best, put her hand on my shoulder and said in broken English, “I’ve been watching you. You don’t just take pictures. You have a big heart.”

That comment meant more to me than any award I ever won.