Cape Girardeau History and Photos

April 18, 2014April 22, 2014

Easter Decorations

One of the problems / advantages of retirement is that you don’t have to know what day of the week it is. I shot these Easter decorations in Mother’s living room before we embarked on a ramble. Some of them, like the clear plastic tree with the ornaments on it, have been around since I was a kid.

We were bouncing down a road in rural Perry County when I asked, in all innocence, “Do you know what day it is?”

“It’s 2:32,” she replied.

“No, I know what TIME it is. I want to know if today is Saturday.”

One of us is “ready for the home”

Brother Mark and I keep telling Mother that she’s close to being “ready for the home,” but the glance she gave me clearly indicated that she was pretty sure either I was testing her or I was the one who was ready for the home.

We got to Altenburg and saw our museum buddy, Gerard Fiehler, out mowing his lawn, so I pulled into the driveway and said, “You look like you could use a break. Why don’t you get off that thing and let Mother finish the job for you?”

He said he had read how she was death on dandelions, but he wasn’t ready to turn his mower over to someone with her reputation for hot rodding.

“Do you know what day this is?”

During a lull in the conversation, Mother leaned over me and asked him, “Do you know what day this is?”

He hesitated like he was looking at a mental calendar. “Not the date, but the DAY. What day of the week is it?” I filled in.

Now, he was SURE it was a trick question. “It’s Friday,” he answered, hesitantly.

Mother gave me a smug smile

“I could have sworn it was Saturday and I had this really timely post ready to go up on Easter,” I said.

So, that’s why you are getting this gallery of Mother’s living room Easter decorations on Saturday instead of Sunday. Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.

April 18, 2014September 22, 2021

U Honk We Drink

Mother and I were cruising on Caruthers past the old Central High School when I saw three guys in with a sign in front of them. “They are at little old to be selling Kool-Aid like the Lamkin kids did,” I thought.

I was almost past them when I read the sign, “U HONK WE DRINK.”

I gave them a “Toot! Toot!,” drove on a couple of blocks, then decided this was too good to pass up. I made a right turn onto Thilenius Street, a right onto North Sunset Blvd., a right onto Themis and a right onto Caruthers Ave. to put me within half a block of the guys. Just as I pulled up, a couple of cars gave a honk.

Dustin Miller, Daniel Price and Justin White turned out to be a trio of nice guys. Best part was that they had easy spelling names. “M-i-l-l-e-r?,” I asked. “Nothing all weird like Mueller?” “Nope, just Miller,” he answered.

“OK, so, what’s going on?

Daniel Price said the fridge had a few beers in it and “I’ve been waiting for a sunny day like this for two weeks.”

Justin said he had just come home from work and saw his two roommates sitting in the back yard of 1752 Themis and decided to join them.

Common Spelling Miller didn’t say anything because he was going into the house for another beer run. When he came back, he started dealing out brews: “There’s one for me; there’s one for you, and one for you.”

“Where’s mine?”

He started to hand me a can, but I waved him off.

It sounded like about every third car honked. I suggested they’d do better if they put up signs a little in advance of where they were sitting. I could seeing them considering the idea for about as long as it was worth, then they sat back and waited for whatever toots came their way.

I DID notice that the would take an anticipatory toot swig from time to time if traffic was light.

April 17, 2014April 9, 2021

Dandelions and Dad’s Birthday

Everybody talks about the pretty fall colors, but I like coming back to the Midwest to see things returning to life in the spring. Nothing says spring like bright green clover and balls of yellow dandelions.

These dandelions on the Jackson Courthouse lawn were flashing yellow caution lights warning us not to get too comfortable even though the mercury was creeping into the upper 70s. Winter, apparently wasn’t done with us yet, because those warm temps were replaced by freeze warnings.

Near Pleasant Hill Presbyterian Church

Reader and railroad buff Keith Robinson tipped me off that one of Louis Houck’s railroad depots was still standing in Fruitland, so Mother and I headed up there to check it out. You’ll get to see it after I’ve done a bit more research.

Knowing Mother’s desire to find a road she’s never been on before, I turned onto 541 off of Hwy 61. Before long, we were at a well-preserved Pleasant Hill Presbyterian Church and cemetery. That, too, will be a future post.

Beyond it, we passed a whole field of dandelions flashing caution signs at us. I know some folks call them weeds, but I think they’re pretty.

Dad would be 97 today

L.V. Steinhoff was born April 17, 1917. He would be 97 today had he not died in 1977. This picture of Dad behind the wheel of our 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon, ever-present cigarette in hand, had to have been taken about 1961, because he gave up smoking about two years later. I spent many a mile looking at this profile and I’d love to see it again. This post will tell you a little about who he was.

Because he and his two brothers were dead by 60, I never thought I’d make it past that birthday.

I guess it’s a healthy sign that I just mentioned two future stories. When I was 59, I was much more cautious about making plans for tomorrows. I told Curator Jessica on one of our road trips last year that I was taking out five-year options now. When I hit 67, I figured I’d make it to 72; when I get there, I’ll see if I can renew the lease.

April 15, 2014

Hanging Tree Hanging On

s When Mother and I made a pass through Jackson today, I took a glance over at the Cape County Courthouse and said, “I think winter maybe finally got the Hanging Tree.” It sure looked bare.

Winter hasn’t been the only hazard The Tree has faced. In 2010, there were fears that a proposed roundabout would come close enough to kill the tree.

Presiding Commissioner Gerald Jones was quoted in The Missourian as saying, “If these three commissioners agree to give up that much of our beautiful courthouse lawn, there would be a three-person hanging on that hanging tree,” Jones said. “And I believe that would be us.” Cooler heads prevailed and the tree and courthouse lawn were saved.

What’s the Hanging Tree, you ask?

The tree, now more than 100 years old, was the site of one of the last – if not THE last -hangings in Cape County. You can read about Sheriff Bernard Gockel carrying out John Headrick’s sentence that he “be hanged by the neck, between heaven and earth, until he is dead” in my 2010 post.

The tree lives!

After checking out some other things, I headed back to the Courthouse Square for a closer look. The old tree was full of leaf buds. It is ready for service, just so long as the bad guys are really, really short.

Click on the photos to make them larger.