Lueders Studio, 427 Broadway

When I ran photographs of a doctor’s office at 714 Broadway, several readers commented that the building looked a lot like what used to be Lueders Studio at 427 Broadway. I don’t know if they were built by the same person, but they were constructed in the same Spanish Revival style. I think the bricks above must have been painted, because I remembered the building as being more the same shade as the Wilson/Estes office. [Click on any photo to make it larger.]

Everybody was shot by Frony and Lueders

I once wrote that there’s probably nobody who lived in Southeast Missouri between 1927 and 1986 who hadn’t had his or her picture taken by One-Shot Frony. You could say almost the same thing about Lueders Studio, which spanned an even longer period of time. There were other photos studios in that era, but Lueders was the one our family and Central High School turned to document students, engagements, weddings, anniversaries and other special occasions.

Here’s a description from SEMO’s Special Collections website: The Lueders Studio Collection spans seventy years of commercial photographic work by Herbert Lueders, and his sons, Paul and John. Herbert Lueders opened his studio at 427 Broadway Avenue in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, in 1925. A distinguished photographer, Herbert Lueders won 18 merit awards from the Professional Photographers Association of America for his portrait work. H. L. Lueders’ oldest son, Paul, began the study of photography with his father at the age of eight. Paul joined his father’s studio after returning from World War II, eventually taking over operations and running the studio until his death in 1995. John Lueders, younger brother of Paul, worked for thirty years as the business manager for the studio, as well as a portrait printer and photo retoucher. 

I’m pretty sure some of my baby pictures were taken by Lueders, but I didn’t have time to dig them out to check for his usual mark. The picture above was taken when Lila Perry was officially added to the family. It must have been taken after we got engaged in December of 1968, but before our wedding in June of 1969, because I don’t see a wedding ring on my left hand.

Lila’s wedding photo

Lila thinks this is the best photo that was ever taken of her. Paul Lueders was a perfectionist. He didn’t like the way her dress fell and waiting for her to grow taller wasn’t an option, so he had her stand on a couple of Sagamore yearbooks (If you look closely, you can barely see them in the photo.

I feel a little guilty about reproducing these photographs. I still cringe when I think about a visit Jim Stone and I made to the studio one afternoon, probably to pick up our senior pictures. Jim was his neighbor, so he had the nerve to ask Mr. Lueders if we could borrow the negatives to make some prints. I know now how much of a faux pas that is: studios make their living off reprints.

Instead of throwing us out of the studio, he diplomatically said, “I’m very particular about the way my photographs are printed, and I don’t let anyone else make prints of the negatives because my reputation is on the line.”

Our photo as a couple

When we made a pass through Cape in 1971, we stopped to have an updated portrait done. Mr. Lueders must not have had many people to talk technique to, because I remember him showing me more about large format photography than I ever saw in classes at Ohio University. Photos like ours and school photos were the bread and butter, but he also wanted to pull out dye transfer color that he had shot of Cape landmarks. He was proud of his work, for good reason.

Back for a family portrait

In 1985, when Matt was 10 and Adam 5, it was time for an updated shot. These copies on a computer screen don’t do the original works justice. I’ve spent enough hours in the darkroom to know how hard it is to get the tonal range that Mr. Lueders did. He could hold detail in the darkest black and the whitest white.

After we moved to Florida, we posed for a local studio that had a reasonable reputation. When we went to pick up the prints, I told the photographer that they weren’t acceptable, then I went to get some Lueders photos to show him what a REAL portrait should look like. He reshot the photos, but I could tell that he would never be able to come close to the quality I grew up with in Cape. Those were the last studio portraits we had made.

Adam’s last Lueders photo

This must have been taken in 1990, when we took our Great Western Vacation trip. The date’s not written on the back, but Lila guessed Adam was about 10, because that’s about when he started playing baseball. These were the first – and only – color photos we had made there. To be honest, I prefer the black and white.

Matt’s photo

Matt’s about 15 in this photo. Where Adam was into sports, Matt was interested in photography (and pretty good at it. Both boys won national photo contests).

When I heard that Mr. Lueders had died, I  was afraid that a huge chuck of the region’s history could be lost, based on my experience in southern Ohio where I tried to track down the film of several old photo studios. In every case, the files had been consigned to the landfill.

That’s not unusual. I found these old glass negatives being used as window panes in a Perry County building in Frohna in 1966.

Lueders photos to be preserved

It was a great relief to hear that the Lueders photographs have been acquired to be part of  Southeast Missouri State University’s Special Collections and Archives Digital Collections. The really neat thing is that they are putting the photos online.

The website says, The Lueders Studio Collection is a “who’s who” of Southeast Missouri and the surrounding region, containing approximately 75,000 images of local people, families, politicians, businesses and events. While the Lueders Studio specialized in portrait photography, they also hired out for advertising work and photography related to insurance claims.

The photographs in the digital collection represent the studio’s commercial photography work, not portraiture.  Interior and exterior views of Cape Girardeau businesses in the mid-twentieth century are represented here, along with street scenes, images of downtown floods, churches and schools, events and community groups.

If you enjoy seeing the photos on this blog, you’ll REALLY enjoy seeing the wide range of photos in the Lueders Collection.

I’m sure we’ll be revisiting Lueders Studio again. Somewhere I’ve seen photos of Paul Lueders when he and Dad were in Central High School’s Kodak Club in the 1930s.

 

Wayne’s Grill

Many of my lunch hours at Trinity Lutheran School were spent in Wayne’s Grill, Beard’s Sport Shop and Vandeven’s Mercantile in the 800 block of Broadway. My folks were good enough to give me permission to leave the schoolgrounds to eat lunch at Wayne’s. A burger and a coke were 35 cents, the same as lunch at school. Add 15 cents and you could get fries. A great coconut cream pie covered with “calf’s slobber,” as Dad called meringue, was two bits.

If Dad took us out in the evening, we would order a bacon-wrapped filet Mignon, the steak against which I have measured every steak thereafter. It was a whole buck and a quarter. I celebrated most of my Saturday Missourian paydays by having one for lunch.

The photo above was taken Sept. 12, 2001, long after Wayne’s had turned into a variety of other businesses. At some point, but I don’t remember when, there was a pool hall in the building.

Original Wayne’s was east of the Esquire

When Brother Mark and I rode by the building Oct. 14, 2007, it had changed appearance again. The marque on the Esquire had fallen down, so the sidewalk was blocked off. You can see more Esquire photos here.

When I first started eating there, Wayne’s was located on the east side of the Esquire theater.

A brief in The Missourian on May 17, 1961, said that “the sale Mrs. Miller’s Cafe, 828 Broadway, to Wayne Freeman has been announced by Mrs. Eva Mae Miller. Mrs. Miller said the sale becomes effective today and she will close the restaurant at the end of tonight’s business.

“Mr. Freeman is owner and operator of Wayne’s Grill, 816 Broadway. Presently, he said he plans to remodel the Miller’s Cafe before reopening it sometime this summer. He will also continue operation of Wayne’s Grill until 1963 when his lease expires. The property was acquired early this year by the Southwestern Bell Telephone Co.

“Mrs. Miller and her late husband, W. B. Miller, bought the cafe six years ago after moving here from Marion,Ill. She plans to devote her time to the operation of her business at the Plaza Cleaners and Coin Wash in the Town Plaza for the present.”

Wayne’s is nothing but memories and parking stops

When I went back to look for Wayne’s in the fall of 2009, it was gone, gobbled up for more parking for Southeast Missouri State University.

Wayne Freeman’s obituary appeared in the paper Feb. 21, 1984. “Wayne E. Freeman, longtime owner of one of the city’s best-known restaraunts, Wayne’s Grill, died Monday, Feb. 20, 1984 following an illness of several months. He was 69 years old.

“Mr. Freeman was born April 7, 1914, in Salem, son of Evan and Ruth Gerhardt Freeman. He married the former Dorothy Pregner. Mr. Freeman had resided here since 1948, moving here from St. Louis. He operated Wayne’s Grill here from 1949 until his retirement in 1974. He was a member of St. Mary’s Cathedral Parish, the Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks, and the American Legion. Mr. Freeman was a veteran of World War II.

“Surviving are his wife; a son, William W. Freeman, Ballwin; brother, Thomas R. Freeman, Cape Girardeau; and grandchildren, Jennifer K., Caitlin Suzanne and Erin Elizabeth Freeman. Pallbearers will be Dr. Keith Deimund, Jack Slaughter, Gale Heise, Joseph Quatmann, Dennis Stockard, Richard Esicar and Ken Werner.”

I remember Dorothy

Wayne wasn’t particularly outgoing, at least to me. I remember him as a skinny guy who handled the grill. If he said a dozen words to me in all the years I went in there, I’d be surprised. For some reason, I picture him with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, but I could be wrong about that.

His wife, Dorothy, on the other hand, was a peach. She may have been one of the first adults I called by her first name. I’m not sure I even knew her last name until I did this story. If she wasn’t busy, she’d come over and talk with me like I was a regular customer, not some kid from elementary school.

 

Main Street and Doors

This single frame was on a roll with the flood photos I ran the other day. I didn’t see anything in the paper, so it must have been a routine medical call that didn’t warrant additional photos. News photographers always shoot first and ask questions later. I used to tell reporters that my machine didn’t come with a backspace or an eraser. If I didn’t capture it right then, it wasn’t possible to redo it or get it over the phone. (Click on any photo to make it larger.)

There are some interesting things visible in the photo. The tall, skinny guy on the left under the restaurant sign might be my old debate partner, Pat Sommers. Looks like the person is wearing shades like Pat was prone to do (even in a movie theater). The temperature was a warm 78 degrees. The St. Charles Hotel has been torn down recently enough that Tom Sawyer’s Fence still hides the Sterling store construction.

There is no Downtown Clock in the middle of the Themis – Main Street intersection.

Zickfield’s door

When I was looking for photos that might show the street in modern times, I scrolled through some pictures of Zickfield’s Jewelers, one of only about two businesses left on Main Street from this era. The door caught my eye. Not the door so much, as the lock on the top of the right-hand door. How many thousands of times has a key been turned in that lock to wear away the finish that much?

Unnerstall’s door

That door triggered the memory of another door I had photographed in April of this year – Unnerstall’s Drug Store on Good Hope. I’m sure that the people who PULL on this door today don’t have any idea who or what an Unnerstall was.

Sunny Hill Is Hard to Shoot

I’ve tried several times over the years to take a picture of the old Sunny Hill Restaurant  On West End Blvd. south of Independence because people keep asking about it.

I have yet to find a good angle, but here are some attempts.

No good angle

There’s no good angle. First off, it’s an ugly building with no personality. Then, the multi-story building that was once a motel and is now apartments put what used to be the restaurant entrance in deep shadows. This is one building I wouldn’t miss if it falls to a wrecking ball. Anything that would make you think of the Sunny Hill of old is long gone.

Fred Lynch has Frony photos

The Missourian’s Fred Lynch has run at least two Frony photos that will look more like what we remember of Sunny Hill in its heyday.

The Country Store

One of Dad’s favorite places was The Country Store, located just north of Sunny Hill. It was a general merchandise store that sold all kinds of odds and ends, with the emphasis on odd. Over the years, the store was added onto until it was shaped something like a scorpion. I looked to see I had a recent photo of the building, but it’s either gone or I didn’t think to shoot one. All of my aerials cut off just east of Sunny Hill.

Wife Lila, who was proofing this, said she thought Mother had taken a photo of the Country Store right after we gave her a digital camera and while she was roaming all over town trying it out. I’m pretty sure this is it, but I’ll let someone else tell me for sure.