News photos that have grown whiskers and have become history
You’re on your own on this one. The negative sleeve said “Notre Dame Highlites Queen Crowning,” but it didn’t have a date, so I couldn’t find it in The Missourian to get more information.
Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the sides to move through the gallery.
Aven Kinder was one of the most buttoned-down guys I ever worked with. In a business made up of characters and misfits on their way up or on their way down, Mr. Kinder (I couldn’t imagine calling him by his first name) was a model of stability.
Even though he was the Farm Editor and had to roam all over the area dodging cow pies, I never saw him with his sleeves rolled up or his tie at anything but full mast.
He had only two speeds: Slow and Steady. I never saw him get angry or get in a hurry. He was the most methodical guy in the newsroom.
I was there when he retired in 1967. after 38 years at The Missourian. The front page story about his last day said that he was honored by management and his fellow workers who presented him with a $100 savings bond. It’s hard to tell in the badly-reproduced microfilm photo, but I’m almost sure there was a flicker of a smile on his face. He doled those out sparingly.
Mr. Kinder hired on with the paper in 1929; he and One-Shot Frony were the only ones left of the original five members of the staff from that era. For three consecutive years, 1962-1964, his farm pages were judged best in the state. The paper came in second in 1965.
The story said he had no plans for retirement except to “fish a little and hunt a little.” He and Mrs. Kinder, a teacher at May Greene School, lived at 1456 Rose Street. (His obit said 1457 Rose Street, but the City Directory confirms 1456. I bet he did a spin in his grave over that.). What I find amazing in retrospect is that Mr. Kinder retired at 65 with 38 years in the business. I always thought of him as an “old man.” I retired at 62, with 45 years under my belt, 35 of them at The Post, and didn’t think I was old.
Aven Kinder, 84, died Jan. 23, 1986, at the Lake Ridge Health Care Center in Roseville, Minn.
On Oct. 5, 1930, he married the former Berenice Piles at Piedmont. She died in March of 1970. On May 5, 1973, he married the former Verrell Whittaker at Advance. She preceded him in death May 21, 1973. (Those are the kinds of dates Mr. Kinder would have come over to ask, “Are you SURE of that?” The dates, sadly enough, are right. The two were married on May 5, and the new Mrs. Kinder died “unexpectedly” on May 21.)
Surviving are a daughter, Mrs. Eugene (Sherrill Sue) Wright, St. Paul, Minn.; sisters Mrs. Elna Amsden, St. Louis, and Mrs. Marie O’Neal, Scott City; and two grandchildren.
I was trying to find the story that went with some photos of a Notre Dame Highlites dance when I saw the February 26, 1966, Missourian Achievement Edition headline “Cape Girardeau: Future Unlimited!”
The Achievement edition – known internally as the Atomic Edition – was a yearly wrap-up of what SE Missouri had done in the past year and what was coming down the pike. (Literally, in this case, because they were talking about getting I-55 done between Fruitland and Portageville).
The paper was all excited because the population was estimated to have passed the 30,000 plateau, 1,349 more than the estimate a year ago. That estimate, in turn, was 1,144 greater than the one in 1964. State College students accounted for 671 of the 1,349 increase. That was kind of a big deal, because 30,000 was the tipping point between being a third class city and a second class city in Missouri. The larger population also meant a larger proportion of the gasoline tax rebate would be flowing to Cape.
Cape was disappointed in 1960 when the city fell 53 people short of having 25,000 people, even though The Missourian offered a silver dollar to each person coming into the office to fill out an affidavit that they had not been counted in the census. The official tally turned out to be 24,947.
You can’t say we didn’t have interesting stories in The Missourian. Floyd McGregor, owner of McGregor’s Market, 1004 North Sprigg, accidentally shot himself in the head with a 22-caliber rifle. The bullet entered under Mr. McGregor’s right eye and passed through his head near his right temple. “He apparently thought the bullet had just grazed his cheek, I don’t think he was aware the bullet actually entered his head,” Sgt. Donald Roberts said. He was in the hospital in satisfactory condition. The story said that Mr. McGregor had borrowed the rifle to shoot a cat. He was unloading the rifle when it accidentally discharged. The fate of the cat wasn’t reported.
A more amazing story is that of Clarence D. Snider, who died at the age of 72, leaving an estate of $465,581.67 in stocks. What makes it amazing is that Mr. Snider worked for 50 years as a heeler at the International Shoe Company; he was paid about $80 a week at the time of his retirement in 1959. His coworkers said he would generally show up for work about an hour early and spend the time poring over newspaper stock reports. He and his wife, Ella, lived in a house he built in 1915 at 123 South Boulevard. It was valued at $7,500.
Southwestern Bell was rolling out mobile telephone service in the Cape area. The only catch was that it only worked for a radius of about 25-30 miles and only one frequency was available for all users in the coverage area. If one person was using the service, everybody else would get a busy signal.
When I was bored, I’d monitor the frequency, which was around 152 MHz, just below Cape PD. Most of the conversations were people who wanted to impress their friends and clients with the fact they were calling from their cars. I was amused to hear a local radio station “newsman” recording a whole bunch of “actualities” from his car phone. “This is Joe Jones reporting from his mobile telephone in Cape Girardeau.” Followed immediately by “This is Joe Jones reporting live from his mobile telephone in Advance, Mo.” Followed by “This is Joe Jones bringing you news by mobile telephone from Perryville.” Rinse and repeat.
The paper’s ad had interior and exterior shots of Colonial Restaurant. [That link will take you to the page NEXT to the ad. You’ll have to scroll left a page to see it.]
The ad said it was “greatly enlarged and newly remodeled.” That might be why it looked like the building was being worked on in my wreck photo.
Another full-page advertisement said, “Hospitality Unlimited at the in-town motor inn which will open soon to offer the warmest ‘welcome-come-again’ anywhere. Sunny Hill Motor Inn will be the most convenient place to stay in Cape Girardeau. It will have 48 Spacious Guestrooms and will be right next to Cape Girardeau’s Favorite Restaurant – Plus many other features.”
It featured interior photos of the Golden Coin Dining Room and Golden Coin Lounge “Now Open for your dining pleasure and convenience.”
P.S. I never did find the story I was looking for.
The buses were labeled Meyer Bus Lines – Perryville, Mo., and the negative sleeve said Head Start at the Airport – 7/14/67, so I’m going to take a wild guess that some kids from Perryville came to The Big City to see the airport.
The two boys on the fence on the left have name tags that say Steven Oehlert and Randy Phillips. They belonged to Mrs. Barks.
Here’s one way to keep track of your charges.
Since I’m low on real info, I’ll just have to let the photos tell the story of the trip to the airport. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the sides to move through the gallery.
