Jerry Ford’s Gordonville Grove

My old high school campaign manager, Bill Hopkins, said I needed to read Jerry Ford’s new book, The Gordonville Grove: Tombstones, Tambourines, & Tammany Hall. I didn’t know if Bill really liked the book or if Jerry was giving him a cut of the sales, but I headed over to Amazon anyway. The book arrived in the mail this morning and I knocked it off in a couple of hours.

Jerry was a few years older than my crowd, so I knew him by name, but not really in person. His family ran Ford & Sons Funeral Home, so I mostly knew him from chasing his ambulances.

Funeral homes provided ambulances

See, back before cities got fancy, it was customary for funeral homes to run to wrecks and other unfortunate happenings because they were about the only folks who had a vehicle large enough to carry a patient.

John Carpenter, left, and Walter Joe Ford remove Dale Smith from a car in which he was a passenger when it struck a pole in front of the Montgomery Ward store on Main St. in 1966. Smith had a broken jaw. John “Doc” Carpenter eventually became Cape County Coroner. Even though he was from Sikeston, he and I were good buddies from Scouts and debate. As early as his teens, Doc said he wanted to work in the funeral industry. He died of colon cancer in 2000. Walter Joe Ford, was author Jerry Ford’s older brother.

“Swoop and scoop”

I was on a rescue squad in North Carolina with some guys who used to work for funeral homes doing ambulance work. “Tell me, Red,” I asked one of them. “Isn’t in the best interest of the funeral home for the guest of honor to arrive not alive at the hospital? Were you ever told to take it slow on the way to the E.R.?”

Red, a linthead from one of the town’s dying textile mills thought for a while (they always had to pause to figure out what to say, me bein’ a Yankee and all), then replied, “There was always two schools of thought about that.”

“Most folks would let the funeral home that picked up the body keep it, but there was always the danger that your competitor might pick up one of the survivors and sell him a funeral on the way to the hospital. I was always of the ‘swoop and scoop’ school, myself.”

Jerry Ford’s book illustrated by Don Greenwood

Cape artist Don Greenwood illustrated the book. I’ve been a fan of his for years, particularly after he was kind enough to let me use one of his illustrations for my bike blog logo.

Gordonville Grove may not be for everyone. You almost have to be from the area to appreciate many of his stories. On the other hand, I found myself putting names to some the characters he left nameless to protect the not-so-innocent.

I may have to steal the disclaimer in the front of the book: “The opinions herein are solely those of the author. …cannot warrant any of the information in this book and can make no guarantees as to the accuracy of the situations and dialogue expressed. Certain physical characteristics and other descriptive details in this book may have been embellished for the sake of storytelling.”

Integration comes to the funeral business

The chapter titled The Deal made the whole purchase of the book worthwhile. I learned something I had never known about Cape.

Up until the mid-60s, no white funeral home had ever buried a black person in a traditional funeral setting, Ford writes. The only exceptions were one or two private burials of domestic workers employed by some of Cape’s wealthiest families. Sparks Funeral Home was the only option for most blacks.

At the request of a respected member of the black community, Jerry’s father agreed to see if the color barrier could be broken.

The funeral industry is fiercely competitive, but all of the local funeral directors brokered a deal: the first black family that wanted a funeral in one of their establishments could pick the one they wanted. After that, all of the homes would go into a rotation so that  no one establishment would suffer the “stigma” of dealing with blacks.

As it turned out, it was a non-issue. Cape Girardeans had no apparent problems with formerly white funeral homes holding black funerals.

Jerry Ford’s swing band

Jerry’s Ford’s 13-piece swing band has played throughout the Midwest for over 50 years. He writes about playing in all of the local clubs like The Purple Crackle and The Colony Club.

He’s performed with or watched most of the big names of the era: Henry James, Harry Ranch, Woody Herman and his Thundering Herd, The Blue Rhythm Boys, Bob Sisco and Jack Stalcup.

The Fords, the Limbaughs and the Rusts

The Fords, Limbaugh and the Rust families were the big political movers and shakers in the Cape community. The Fords were Democrats, and the latter two were Republicans. Jerry writes about how politicians from the different parties could work together for the common good without the partisan gridlock we see today.

Ordering the book(s)

Cedar Hills Pet Cemetery

I’ve spent a lot of time wandering through old cemeteries and graveyards. You can tell a lot about a community by the way it takes care of its dead. You can get a feel for who the prominent families were and be amused by some of the tombstone inscriptions.

I get a lump in my throat when I get to the sections set aside for kids, particularly in the older cemeteries where some of the homemade markers incorporate the child’s marbles or jacks.

When the kids were little, we took off cross-country and made a detour to see the Key Underwood Coon Dog Memorial Graveyard just outside Tuscambia, Al. Follow the link to see more markers like High Pockets, above, and read an account of a misunderstanding that could only happen out in the country.

Cape Girardeau’s Cedar Hills Pet Cemetery

If I’d traipse all over Alabama, surely I’d pull off Big Bend Rd. to take a look at the Cedar Hills Pet Cemetery in Cape. It’s a bit plain looking, but it’s neatly kept.

The Coon dog Cemetery (originally called Graveyard), was founded in 1937, when Key Underwood buried Troop, so it’s had a lot more time to get that old-time feeling. The Cape cemetery is only about a couple decades old.

Only coon dogs allowed in Coon Dog Cemetery

Another big difference is that the Cedar Hills Pet Cemetery appears not to discriminate. They’ll even take, god forbid, cats. [Editor’s note: that was meant tongue-in-cheek. Our back yard is so full of cats that I don’t know where we’ll plant the next one when the time comes.]

The Alabama site has strict rules:  “A dog can’t run no deer, possum — nothing like that. He’s got to be a straight coon dog, and he’s got to be full hound. Couldn’t be a mixed up breed dog, a house dog.”

Cremations, urns and caskets

Cedar Hill’s website says they offer a full range of products and services. A crematory was supposed to open in Spring of 2010, to handle the 75% of services that involve cremations these days. They’ll also sell you urns or caskets for your pet.

The Missourian’s Bridget DiCosmo did a story about Cedar Hills in 2009.

Gallery of Cedar Hill Pet Cemetery Photos

Click on any photo to enlarge it, then click on the left or right side of the image to move through the gallery.

Broadway Landmarks & Cracked Sidewalks

I don’t know if these women were leaving the DayZy Beauty Salon or Jordan Office Equipment and Supply. I suspect the former. The 1979 City Directory said the beauty salon was at 718 Broadway and owned by Mrs. Dorothy Willman.

“Women,” not “ladies”

I called them “women” because Missourian style was that females of a certain age were “women,” because that was a verifiable fact. “We don’t KNOW if they are ladies,” it was drilled into me.

Cracked sidewalks

These photos were in a sleeve slugged “Cracked Sidewalks 3/27/67.” There were some other photos in it, too. Wife Lila was in The Missourian’s print shop, where The Capaha Arrow was on the press, and I had a couple of shots of Jim Stone from a trip to the Ohio University campus. The variety of the photos makes me think the date was when the film was processed, not when it was taken.

I don’t know if I shot the sidewalks on assignment or on the off-chance that I could turn the photos into a story. There was a difference. At some point Editor John Blue or someone in the business office must have discovered that they weren’t paying me much salary ($50 a week to start and probably around $70 a week by the time I left), but I was making about half that much again in freelance photos. That probably put me in the salary range of real, experienced reporters.

Sliding pay scale

The solution: they changed my pay schedule. I got $5 for every ASSIGNED photo, but only $3 if the photo was self-generated.

That’s where I learned to think in terms of picture stories and multiple photos. A photo that contained all of the elements of the story in one picture was only worth $3 to $5. If I could find a way to tell the story in pieces, then it was more money in my pocket.

I understand how Frony became One-Shot

Oh, yeah, there was another catch. I had to pay for my own film, paper, chemicals and darkroom equipment.

I can understand why Frony became One-Shot Frony.

Still, I was living at home and didn’t have many expenses outside gas, photo supplies and dates. Lila will testify that I certainly didn’t spend a lot of money on THOSE.

I used to drive the accounting department nuts because I’d go weeks without depositing my pay checks. Eventually, someone would come up and ask me to cash them so they could balance their books.

Trust me, that was the ONLY time in my life that happened.

Armstrong Tires and Chris Cross Cafe

I could have used this photo with two stories. The Armstrong Tire ad would have fit nicely with the one dealing with the early days of the automobile in Cape.

It also shows a corner of the mystery building that was being demolished at the corner of Broadway and Sprigg in my Sept. 9 piece. Readers identified it as the Chris Cross Cafe. I don’t know that I was ever in the Broadway Radio-TV Shop.

Chamber, Boy Scouts & Salvation Army

This cracked sidewalk photo in the 200 Block of Broadway picks up several landmark establishments: The Chamber of Commerce, the Boy Scouts of America and the Salvation Army. That’s my ’59 Buick LaSabre station wagon facing the river.

Miss Alene Sadler: Most Influential

When the Class of 1965 filled out the bio information for the 20th reunion in 1985, 18 students listed Miss Alene Sadler as their most influential teacher.

She was one of the toughest and best teachers I had. Miss Sadler was not one to trifle with lightly. After she marked one of my answers wrong on a test, I brought in  a stack of books the next day to prove my point. She conceded that I was correct, but I had a clear sense that I may have won the battle, but the war was going to be distinctly unpleasant.

Missouri Teacher of the Year

I did a Missourian search, but couldn’t find an obit or any current information on Miss Sadler. There were lots of stories going back to 1925 about her musical performances, but little about her teaching. She WAS named Missouri Teacher of the Year in 1964. Looks like we were fortunate enough to catch her in her prime.

Comments from the Class of 65

Charlie Baldwin: She was an excellent instructor who demonstrated the ability to teach subject matter in a very interesting fashion while at the same time developing positive relations with students. She has been a very good role model for me during my career.

Vicky Berry Dereign: The teachers who influenced me were Miss Sadler and Miss Sivia, they set a standard for me after which I have tried to pattern my own teaching. (Humorous memories: “I remember how Kenny Steinhoff used to argue about everything, including the pros and cons of kissing.”) [Editor’s note: I have no idea what she’s talking about.]

Lee Dahringer: …for developing an appreciation of and an interest in effective communication and analytical thought.

Put my brain to work

Peggy Estes Goddard: She was creative and caused me to really put my brain to work.

Connie Hall Schwab: Her efforts helped me to realize that proper English and grammar are essential in every aspect of one’s life.

Marsha Harris Vangilder: Taught me to read – just for pleasure.

Alice Lynn Snell: The skills that she stressed have had a lasting effect and have helped much in my career.

Love of students

Marsha Marshall Gutshall: Her love of the students and her strong desire to impart knowledge.

Connie Nelson Copsy: She treated us as adults and prepared us for college, while still getting the information across.

Mary Ponder Wyss: I still recall and utilize many of the things learned in her class.

Victoria Roth Hardy: Most influenced by Miss Sadler’s exposure to the Humanities and the Arts. [Vicky] had fond memories of Miss Sadler’s harp player.

Michael Seabaugh: … for her being able to open up the world in all its glorious depth and breadth.

Ken Steinhoff: She tried to teach me how to express myself clearly on paper.