Hats, Furs and Gloves

Semo campus c 1966Remember the day when women wore furs, white gloves and hats? These women were captured on the SEMO campus sometime around 1966. I have no idea who they are or where they were heading.

I’m also confused by what the woman behind them is dragging on a leash. Maybe it’s a fur collar that got away.

How to stay up to date

I posted the following note last night and had several people tell me the link didn’t work. I reported the problem to Kid Matt. He gave me his usual verbal shrug over the telephone that conveys, “So?” then he went on to fix it like he always does. He gave me some long explanation about having to refill the throckmartin tank because the hamsters had eaten all the koala berries, or something like that. Anyway, it’s fixed.

I used to be able to post links to new stories on Facebook, but FB has changed the way it delivers status info to your timeline. If you “liked” a page in the past, you would get updates delivered to you. Now, FB is playing games to force folks like me to pay to “boost” our posts. If we don’t pay, only about 10% of my readers receive status reports.

Here’s an easy and free way to stay up to date on my new posts: sign up for the blog’s email notification service. It’s free, you get only one notice a day and I promise not to spam you. It’s as easy as clicking on THIS LINK or the “Manage Subscriptions” link at the top left of the page.

I don’t need Facebook when I have loyal readers.

Eugene Beckett’s Smelterville Treasures

Eugene Austin Beckett MapI hinted yesterday that I many have to cut back on blog posts while I rush to finish an update to my Smelterville stuff before the Vine Street Reunion July 25-27 and put together a workshop in Athens, Ohio, in August.

I’ve spent most of the past week editing video interviews. Today I waded through emails and comments from people who talked about Smelterville. That’s where I stumbled across a treasure trove of information. Just about this time last year, I got an email from Eugene Beckett. He said he had some photos of the area in the ’30s, ’40s and ’50s, plus a map that he had put together showing many of the landmarks. I asked if he could send me the info.

Consigned to the Future Basket

When it arrived, I looked at it hurriedly and put it in my Future Basket. Well, today, I took a closer look and was floored by what he had sent.

It dovetailed directly with my workshop topic. He did everything I’m going to encourage the participants to do

  • 1. Make or collect the photographs
  • 2. Document when they were taken
  • 3. Write a description of what they show.

(Basically all the stuff I wish I had done for the past half century)

He went the extra step of producing the map of an area that doesn’t exist today.

Legend for map

1   –  City Pump. The only water between the railroad and the river.
2   –  Funny Ferrell’ Store
3   –  Ben Cannon’s Church
4   –  Old foundation of the Lead Smelter plant
5   –  Central Packing Co.
6   –  Fish Market
7   –  River Navigating Light
8   –  Blue Hole Garden Barbecue (the old Blue Hole Garden was at the bottom of toll-gate hill where they build the new hwy.)
9   –  Standard Oil Service Station
10 –  Federal Material Co. Office
11  – Kelley’s Store
12  – Sandy Beach.
13  – John Deiteker’s Store
14  – Lane’s Market
15  – Railroad switch house
16  – Booker T’s scrap yard

I told Curator Jessica that she needs to find a Eugene who has done that kind of documentation in the scores of old coal towns in SE Ohio that are ghost towns or merely memories. The goal of our workshop is to encourage people to go out today to start the documentation that will be invaluable in 30 or 50 years. I’m just beginning to realize what a resource my files are, and I’d like to encourage others to produce similar collections.

Living in Houck Woods during flood

Sarah Addie Bequette Houck Wood escaping flood in 1940s courtesy Eugene Beckett_11aOne of Eugene’s photos is of his grandmother, Sarah Addie Bequette in a tent village in the Houck Woods up Tollgate Hill where Smelterville residents fled Mississippi River floodwaters. I’m going to guess this was the Flood of 1943. I had read accounts of that, but here is an actual photograph of one of those refugees. Eugene also wrote an extensive biography of Mrs. Bequette.

Here’s why his detective work and captions are so important: if you look at the photo without the background, you might think she’s on a camping trip or that there’s a tent revival set up in the background. Filling in that detail about the flood places it in historical context.

Thanks to Eugene for sharing his family documentation.

How to stay up to date

I used to be able to post links to new stories on Facebook, but FB has changed the way it delivers status info to your timeline. If you “liked” a page in the past, you would get updates delivered to you. Now, FB is playing games to force folks like me to pay to “boost” our posts. If we don’t pay, only about 10% of my readers receive status reports.

Here’s an easy and free way to stay up to date on my new posts: sign up for the blog’s email notification service. It’s free, you get only one notice a day and I promise not to spam you. It’s as easy as clicking on THIS LINK or the “Manage Subscriptions” link at the top left of the page.

I don’t need Facebook when I have loyal readers.

Arthur Mattingly Brought History to Life

Arthur Mattingly, history prof, SEMO c 1966When Jim Stone headed off to Ohio University, he and I would trade audio tapes instead of letters. It’s almost painful to listen to the two of us half a century later, but I was playing part of one the other day and heard myself describing my history prof: “He’s talking when he walks into the room, and he’s still talking when the bell rings and people are walking out.”

That was Arthur Mattingly, one of the best profs I had at SEMO or Ohio University.

Founded historic preservation program with Dr. Nickell

The Missourian had a story in 2006 saying that Dr. Mattingly and Dr. Frank Nickell were being recognized for founding SEMO’s historic preservation program 25 years earlier. A 1973 article he wrote does the best job I’ve ever read in explaining the value of historic preservation and how “old” doesn’t always translate into valuable.

Taught history in present tense

Arthur Mattingly, history prof, SEMO c 1966 One of the things I liked about him was that he delighted in debunking all those myths about history that we had been taught from grade school on. His accounts of battles were told in the present tense. He didn’t dwell on dates and troop movements, he made you feel like the enemy was going to come up over that rise any minute.

He, John C. Bierk, and Fred Goodwin are three SEMO profs I remember well.

Things are going to slow down here

I got a call from a perky and squealing Curator Jessica this morning. A grant we had applied for to put on a week-long workshop in Athens, Ohio, in August was approved. Since I really hadn’t expected it to get funded, I drug my feet on preparing for it.

I have to pull together an update for my Smelterville project by July, figure out what I’m going to do convince a bunch of amateur photographers that shooting pictures today with history in mind is fun, and knock off my Last Generation project for an Immigration Conference in Altenburg in October.

To get everything done, I’m going to have to throw some babies out of the lifeboat. I can’t give up food, sleep and afternoon naps, so it’ll be blog posts that go splash. I may plug in re-runs so you don’t forget about me.

Sign up for email notifications

Facebook has become an unreliable way to promote the blog. Unless I pay them, less than 10% of the people who like the Central High School blog fan page ever see the status posts. To make sure you don’t miss out on new material, click on the tiny MANAGE SUBSCRIPTIONS link at the top left of the page (next to Archive). Put in your email address and you’re in business. Or, you can sign up by clicking on THIS LINK.

“That’s FOUR-FIVE Years”

Perry-Steinhoff Wedding 1969“I had a post all ready to go when I checked my Facebook messages. Son Adam had tagged Wife Lila and me: “Happy anniversary you crazy kids.”

Lila had been working on a quilt and hadn’t seen the message. When I read it to her, she looked sort of mystified for a moment, then said, “Tomorrow’s June 23. That’s 45 years. THAT’S FOUR-FIVE YEARS,” she added, holding up four fingers, then five fingers.

“Wow,” he said.

We usually forget the date

We have a long history of not remembering our anniversary.

It’s been a good FOUR-FIVE YEARS (that’s 45 years, not implying four or five good years out of 45). I guess I should put the Big FIVE-OH in my calendar. That’s a real biggie.