News photos that have grown whiskers and have become history
I wonder if the plants managed to escape? Remember the piece I did on the plants that were trapped in the Plaza Galleria when the place shut down? They were the things of which bad dreams are made.
These look like the shrubs outside the building, not the orphans from inside.
The 56,000-square-foot building had been empty (except for screaming plants) since 2005.
Nothing like packing for a trip to empty out the sock and underwear drawers. Buried in the back of one of the drawers were two plastic boxes with foam inserts holding a bunch of pins and medals I accumulated while at Central High School (and, maybe SEMO).
When we got close to Cape, the weather alert kept going off with Tornado warnings; Lila was pulled over at a rest area north of town because a twister was reported south of her. Mother was headed to the basement. Things calmed down by the we all got home, but I decided not to unload the car tonight. We’ll fill you in later. Here’s a piece I put aside in case I needed a filler.]
The turtle and arrow at the top left signified that I was a Brotherhood member of the Order of the Arrow, the national Scout honor society. The turtle was our lodge symbol. I enjoyed Order of the Arrow much more than regular scouting because we were older boys and did work projects that had lasting value.
The rectangular pin on the left is one I don’t recognize. It has the initials MCNA. I was a member of the OCNA, which stood for Ohio College Newspaper Association, so I’m going to guess this was the Missouri equivalent.
The next four were from debate club. The blue medal was for being elected Outstanding Representative at the State Student Congress in Jefferson City. The red one was for being Superior Representative. NFL, in my case, did NOT stand for National Football League.
The two pins showing the guy in a robe were for the NFL, too. I think the top one might have been a charm like you might put on a bracelet (no, I didn’t) or necklace. The other was a pin that you wore on your lapel.
Top right is a pin for National Honor Society. Some of the class of ’65 got in early in the year. I was in the ones who just barely made it. In fact, I’m pretty sure that it was activity points for stuff like debate and the school publications that counted for more than my grades.
The second pin was for Quill and Scroll, the journalism honor society. It notes that I was a photographer. You’ve move up in rank based on the number of column inches of your work you had published. I was working at The Jackson Pioneer and freelancing for The Missourian, so I had a lot more opportunities to get in print than someone who might do a couple of stories for The Tiger. On top of that, picture column inches counted the same as written column inches, so photographers could wrack up inches faster than writers.
We pulled out of Lake City this morning after a better than average breakfast at the Comfort Suites. I felt like I was cheating on the Waffle House across the street, but the breakfast was free at the motel.
I offered Passenger Anne a choice when we passed through Capps just south of Tallie.
“If you want to save some money, I bet I can find some tourist courts like this on some of the side roads.”
Nobody rides free. Anne makes a great window washer. She’s much better at that than Friend Jan was at scraping ice off the windshield.
Elvis wanted to know why I hadn’t brought Mother back to visit. I told him Anne was going to have to do on this trip. I’ve passed Mollyville, just outside Dothan, a bunch of times without stopping.
The place is huge and has a tasteful collection of antique furniture and things that defy description. If my wallet was bigger and my van emptier, I’d sure have been tempted.
I told Anne that I was ready to call it a night at Cullman, AL. I told her I was really impressed when Mother and I ducked into the Comfort Suites hotel on our trip because of a scary storm rolling in. Joy Pannell was behind the desk that night and told us where the storm safe area was and that guests would be notified in case of a tornado warning.
When we went to the front desk to check in, I said our lodging choice was based on my experience in 2011. “I remember you.” she said. “I put you and your mother right across the hall from the stairwell where you would have gone in case of a tornado.”
She and Phillip Prior made us feel like old friends, not just weary travelers to be dealt with. I’ll make it point to make Cullman a stop when I head through there. New hotels are springing up all over the exit, but the friendly and personal service I’ve gotten from Joy will send me to the Comfort Suites.
Bike partner Anne Rodgers heard how much fun Jan Norris had on her winter road trip with me that she wanted a piece of the action. The first thing that happened was that my cruise control stopped working. That means I’m either 10 mph under the speed limit or 20 mph over it, depending on flow of traffic.
We had hoped to make it to a place on the Gulf coast for seafood, but it became clear that they’d be closed. That gave us an excuse to take the scenic route Mother and I drove in 2011.
Anne, a Texas innocent, had never been to the Florida Citrus Tower in Clermont.
While I was taking the shot of Anne and the tower, a nice man came out of the Presidents Hall of Fame. He told us the place was closed, but gave us a two-for-one ticket for our next trip. (Like Anne would sign up for another one.)
Oh, yes, he also said, “No, you can’t sit on his lap.”
She settled for second best, muttering, “Your loss, Abe.”
The nice man said if we had been there yesterday, we’d have been able to see him put Abe back together. A microburst in a storm tore Mt. Rushmore apart.
We fought rain for about an hour before pulling into the Comfort Suites in Lake City, FL. I like the place. It’s clean, convenient (there’s a Waffle House across the street) and the staff is friendly.
I tried every trick I’ve earned from years on the road to get the best price. Finally I said, “Look, we’re newlyweds and we’ve had a spat. If we want this marriage to survive, we need separate rooms tonight. Will that qualify for a better rate?” We got another $10 knocked off, probably because that was one they’d never heard before.
“Do you want adjoining rooms?” the clerk asked?
“No,” I replied.” I think we’ve had all the adjoining we can handle for the day.
Stay tuned for more adventures on the way to Cape.