Cape Girardeau History and Photos

September 9, 2015

Wedding Photography Paranoia

Over my years as a news photographer, I photographed presidents, would-be presidents, a pope and the Queen of England. I was at shot and missed, swung at and hit. I braved fires, floods and famines. (OK, maybe I’m exaggerating about the latter, but I DID go without lunch a few times.)

I waded in flood waters where I realized I represented high ground to the snakes around me, and I stood next to a water tower in a lightning storm hoping to get a good photo (with Wife Lila holding an umbrella over me. She was my insurance policy: I figured God wouldn’t strike HER with lightning).

So, where did I draw the line?

Weddings

I used to say that the only weddings I’d shoot were those of friends, and I defined a friend as someone who wouldn’t ask me to shoot his or her wedding.

Why did I feel that way?

I hate set-up shots, and most wedding photography I had seen was a collection of cliched set-ups.
I don’t herd cats well.
Because of pilot error, technical snafus, processing mistakes and just plain bad luck, I have blown assignments, exposing me to scorn and ridicule from my peers and ugly conversations with editors. None of that scares me like the wrath of a bride’s mother who has just found out her Princess Perfect’s wedding photos didn’t turn out.

Wedding Plan B

In the few times I couldn’t wheedle my way out of shooting a wedding, I’d set a ground rule: I wouldn’t deliver the prints until they had been married a year. If the marriage didn’t last that long, they wouldn’t want them anyway.

That’s not to say I wouldn’t walk around shooting candids at a wedding. That was a way I could keep from having to make small talk with folks I didn’t know, it would give them stuff that the formal photographer didn’t shoot, and it would insulate me from mad mothers.

So, when Robin and Brother Mark got married on her birthday, September 8, 2014, I did my wander-around-taking photos thing. Since they made it past the one-year mark, I guess it’s safe to post these pictures.

Wedding photo galler

Here’s where we all were a year ago. Steinhoff weddings are as unconventional as Steinhoff funerals. I’m happy to deliver these photos. Click on one to make it larger, then use the arrow keys to poke around.

Mark Steinhoff – Robin Hirsch wedding 09-08-2014

September 8, 2015

Wimpy’s As We Remember It

A couple of young newlyweds stopped by the house to talk about buying Mother’s 1977 Datsun pickup truck. Mother would tell us that she could count on two or three lookers a year for as long as it’s been parked there, but she’d always tell the prospective buyers that she was going to be buried in it. When the time came, we measured the truck, then we measured the available plot and decided that it wouldn’t work.

Anyway these kids were real Datsun fans and promised to restore it for actual driving as opposed to cannibalizing it for parts. Mark, David and I said we’d consider selling it to them on the condition that when it was in running order they’d drive by the cemetery and give Mother and Dad a couple beeps to let them know it had found a good home. But, more about that later if and when it’s a done deal.

Another visitor showed up

While the kids and I were swapping Datsun stories (I can’t remember if I owned three or four of them), another car pulled into the driveway. It was Terry Rose Crowell, from CHS Class of 1965. She asked if I was going to be in town Saturday, September 19.

I’m getting to the age where I don’t feel comfortable making plans that far in advance, but I allowed as how the possibilities were good.

She asked me how many tickets to the Wimpy’s event I needed. I said the only Road Warriorette close enough to go with me was Friend Shari in St. Louis, so I wouldn’t need more than two.

(When I called Friend Shari, she said she wasn’t sure if she could make it. Something about washing her hair.)

Lewis family to cook from original recipe

Here are details about the event that were posted on the Centenary United Methodist Church website:

Save the date for Wimpy’s night at Centenary and open house. On Saturday, September 19 from 11:00am to 2:00pm, the Lewis family and Centenary will be bringing back the original recipe, hometown favorite hamburgers. $10 will get you two classic Wimpy burgers, fries and a drink. Spread the word, bring your friends and family, then take them on a tour of our newly renovated campus. Volunteers are needed. Please contact Terry Crowell at 573-382-1123 for information.

The CHS 1960s email list said you could also contact Billy Sisco at Sisco’s Barber Shop (573-335-3545) for tickets. I saw somewhere else that only 600 tickets will be sold, so you’d better get yours while you still can.

I might have prints available

If I can find someone in Cape who can make some prints at a reasonable price, I may bring some to the event. I’m thinking of an 8×10 composite print of Wimpy’s as it looked in 1966. I won’t know a price until I find out how much they cost to produce.

September 7, 2015

Mayfield’s Wooldridge Monuments

These photos of the Wooldridge Monuments in Mayfield, Ky., were taken October 19, 2008, a date which will become important later on.

The RoadsideAmerica website quotes the Mayfield Monitor’s obituary as calling Col. Henry G. Wooldridge “a very eccentric man.” The horse breeder, who never married, spent most of his 77 years living with relatives. Before he died in 1899, he commissioned what is now called the Woodridge Monuments, a collection of 18 life-sized statues of humans and animals, including a horse named Fop and two dogs named Tow Head and Bob.

He’s the only one buried there

Despite all the statues, Wooldridge is the only person buried in the 17 x 33-foot plot.

A City of Mayfield website lists the human statues as belonging to his mother, Keziah, his brothers, Alfred, W.F., John, and Josiah. Also included are his sisters, Susan Neely, Narcissa Berryman, Minerva Nichols, plus his two nieces, Maud Reeds and Minnie Neely.

There is a story that the statue of Minnie, is Henry’s childhood love who died in a riding accident. However, family records prove that Minnie was actually one of the Colonel’s great-nieces.

Tree destroyed the monuments

I mentioned that the fact that I shot these photos in 2008 was important. It’s because an ice storm toppled a tree on the monuments in 2009, smashing all the stones except for the three women in the back row. My pictures show the original statues.

Things looked bleak for one of the area’s biggest tourist attraction until federal disaster money was made available to help out hard-hit Kentucky. The funds covered most of the $100,000 it took to restore the monuments. (Col. Wooldridge supposedly paid only $6,000 to have them built.)

Wooldridge had drunk escort

The city’s website reports, “According to folklore, the Illinois Central Railroad supplied a special flatcar with “new-type air brakes” to transport from Paducah, Ky., to Mayfield the large statue of Col. Wooldridge astride his horse.

It was told that Mayfield’s “town drunk” happened to be in Paducah when the flatcar left for Maplewood Cemetery. The story goes that he climbed aboard the horse and rode behind Col. Wooldridge’s statue to enter Mayfield in grand style.

Click on the photos to make them larger.

September 6, 2015January 17, 2022

Malden’s Green Wave

After more than 1,000 miles of reconnaissance driving in Missouri’s Bootheel, I started shooting actual photos Friday. My first stop was at Dunklin county’s Malden airport for a reunion of people who had served there when it was an active training airbase during World War II, the Korean War and Vietnam. I’ll run that story later.

Since I was already down there, I decided to go to the Malden – Portageville football game that evening.

Serious mosquitoes

I opened my car door at dusk in Steele, in Pemiscot county, last week. It took two days to get all the mosquitoes out. Since there was a Walmart next to the football stadium, I stopped by the sports department to ask about Dunklin county skeeters. “I’d recommend the 40% Deet over the 25% can,” the salesman said.

The way he said that made me wonder if that was the game the fellow next to me buying a shotgun had in mind. I didn’t ask.

Even the cheerleaders were spraying down. The repellent did a good job against bloodsuckers, but it didn’t help chase away the cloud of gnats circling my head or the odd beetle who would bounce off my bald pate.

A salt and pepper crowd

I used to subscribe to the theory of an author who wrote that Cape Girardeau was the last bastion of civilization before descending into the Old South of the Bootheel. It was a pleasant surprise to see the friendly salt and pepper mix in the stands. I’m sure I’ll run into Jim Crow down there eventually, but he was missing Friday night, so far as I could tell.

I took the precaution of calling the school in the afternoon to ask if I needed any special credentials to get on the field. I gathered from some conversations in town that there was an issue with a pedophile some time past, and they might be a little gun shy. I told assistant superintendent Bob Wilson that I’d be happy to send him samples of football games I had covered recently to establish my bona fides:

I was welcome

Five minutes later, Bob called back to say I was welcome at the game. Just introduce yourself to any of the staff wearing khaki pants and green shirts, he said.

Indeed, that’s what I did. The first person I ran into said an email about me had gone out to everyone, and to enjoy myself. During the course of the game, I talked to at least half a dozen staff, including the personable school superintendent, who is very proud of his teachers and students.

A very nice man with a badge

Good thing I had made that afternoon call. On my way out of the game, a burly guy in civilian clothes came up to me and said, “I need to talk with you.”

Just as I was saying, “Sure,” he flashed a badge and asked who I was and what I was doing since he had seen me taking pictures of kids. (Actually that’s about all I did except for a few token action shots.)

I handed him a business card and started to explain the Bootheel project to him, but as soon as I said, “I cleared it with Bob Wilson,” he said, “That makes it OK, then.”

To be fair, the guy was polite and non-threatening. I can’t blame him for being protective of his students. I’ve certainly had lot worse encounters with guys with badges.

I love watching the mating rituals

Watching the flirting and interplay that goes on in the stands is more fun that watching the action ON the field. It’s a real treat for me to go to football games and have the luxury of not having to bring back the big play of the night.

Malden photo gallery

I’m posting these mostly as a way for me to keep in mind what I’ve been shooting in the Bootheel, so feel free to skip over them quickly. Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.