Cape Girardeau County History Center Archives

April 19, 2016

The Hanging Tree Is Gone

Americans have long recorded songs about justice being delivered at the end of a rope. The Kingston Trio sang the sad tale of Tom Dooley, the victim of the eternal triangle involving him, a Mr. Grayson and a beautiful woman. In the song, he laments, “This time tomorrow, reckon where I’ll be, down in some lonesome valley, hanging from a white oak tree.”

Toby Keith, in Beer for my Horses, takes a grittier tone, when he sings.

Grandpappy told my pappy, back in my day, son
A man had to answer for the wicked that he done
Take all the rope in Texas
Find a tall oak tree, round up all of them bad boys
Hang them high in the street for all the people to see that

[Chorus:]

Justice is the one thing you should always find
You got to saddle up your boys
You got to draw a hard line
When the gun smoke settles we’ll sing a victory tune
We’ll all meet back at the local saloon
We’ll raise up our glasses against evil forces
Singing whiskey for my men, beer for my horses

Jackson’s Hanging Tree

I first heard about Jackson’s Hanging Tree in 2010, when MDOT proposed a roundabout on the north side of the Cape County Courthouse. Not only would it have eaten up a significant piece of the courthouse square, but it would also have endangered the tree where Cape County’s last hanging took place in 1899. The photo at the top of the page was taken in 2010. You can read the history of the tree here.

Every spring, Mother would want to drive by the courthouse to see if the old Mulberry tree had made it through another winter.

When I shot this in 2014, I thought maybe this was the last spring for it, but a closer look showed it was budding out for another go.

See something missing?

When I looked at The Missourian this morning, it had a story, “‘Hanging Tree’ in county courthouse square taken down.” Curiously, the photo was taken not by a staff photographer, but by the tree service that chopped the tree down.

In 2010, when the roundabout was being debated, Presiding Commissioner Gerald Jones said, “If these three commissioners agree to give up that much of our beautiful courthouse lawn, there would be a three-person hanging on that hanging tree, and I believe that would be us.”

The newspaper story said the tree was cut down Sunday after county officials “ordered it removed after determining that it no longer was healthy enough to remain standing.”

It must have been a decision that was kept really quiet, because I got an apologetic email this morning from a good county source who wrote, “My apologies that I didn’t give you a heads up on the hanging tree coming down. It was a surprise even to me.”

Wonder if another one will pop up?

I saw a bunch of seeds on the ground where the tree once stood. I wonder if any of them are mature or hardy enough to grow us another hanging tree? You just never know when you might need one to “fight evil forces.”

Preserving a few pieces

The fellow who cut the tree down was quoted as saying the wood would likely not be used for anything because it was severely rotted. The story continued, “the tree was part of local history, and he expects people to be sad to see it go.”

I couldn’t resist snagging a few pieces of bark for myself and the Cape Girardeau County History Center. I’m sure the center would liked to have had a bigger chunk for exhibit.

March 19, 2016

Through Ace Taylor’s Eyes

I had the pleasure of roaming Illinois, Kentucky and a chunk of the Missouri Bootheel with Ace Taylor, the 13-year-old nephew of museum director Carla Jordan. Carla mentioned that Ace was interested in photography and was good company, so invited him to hit the road Thursday.

It’s never good to waste a perfectly good seat, so Carla’s ready-to-ramble mother, Carolyn Taylor, filled it. I have the feeling that she may become like Mother was: jingle the keys and she’s ready to go.

I tried to think of a photo-rich environment where taking good pictures would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

It turned out to happen, almost literally. When we got to the spillway at the southeast end of Horseshoe Lake, we saw hundreds of minnow-size fish frolicking in the overflow. We couldn’t tell if they were trying to fight the current to get upstream into the lake or if they were beings swept out of it. A couple of fishermen said they were baby carp. It’s worth clicking on it to make it larger. Maybe someone can tell us if the fishermen were right.

The kid has a good eye

I got my first camera at 12. Ace is so far ahead of where I was at his age that there is no comparison. I didn’t point out any particular shot to him. I would give him a little background about why the location was interesting from a geologic or historical perspective, then I’d look around and Ace was already scoping out angles and getting busy.

Experimenting with framing

Ace wasn’t a plain old point-and-shoot photographer. He experimented with shooting through things and with the relationships of shapes. He also had a good grasp of depth of field and the relationship between lens settings and shutter speeds. He tried using slower shutter speeds when shooting the fish photo so the water movement would show up, then he switched to higher speeds to freeze the fish. All of this without a word of advice from me.

In fact, I tried to capture the jumping fish in a video, but Ace aced me hands-down with his still shot.

Not afraid to get in the middle of it

I told him that photographers have a responsibility to document the world around them for future generations. He took a dramatic photo of a machine eating one of my favorite old buildings in Cairo.

“You realize,” I told him, “that you have taken the last photograph of that building that anyone will ever see. If you come back tomorrow, it’ll be gone, and the opportunity to document it will never be there again.”

[Note to Ace’s Mom: he was very cautious. He was careful to step in areas clear of nails and glass, and I always made sure he wasn’t any place where he was in danger.]

A deliberate shooter

The kid wasn’t a pray and spray shooter. After he took a photo, he would study it to see if he had captured what he was looking for or if he should take another crack at it.

A quiet kid

I don’t know that I’ve ever met any boy that age who was so quiet and soft-spoken. When he DID talk, he had something to say. I liked that.

The next day, he was helping Carla at the History Center in Jackson, so we didn’t roam around. I stopped by the center to give him a polarizing filter that I discovered had a small scratch. It probably won’t make any difference, but I’m persnickety about that kind of thing.

We talked gear and techniques, then I watched him wander around the room checking out how the filter would eliminate reflections. I give him credit for understanding when you DON’T want to use it.

“I WANTED the reflections in the water in the picture of the cypress trees, so I wouldn’t use it there, would I?” he asked.

You nailed it, kid.

If he continues at the pace he’s on, he won’t have to talk: he can let his camera and photos speak for him.

Ace Taylor’s work

Here’s a selection of what Ace photographed in roughly six hours (including 150 miles of driving). Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move around.

Keep in mind while you are looking at these pictures that Ace Taylor is 13 years old.

February 29, 2016

Another Jackson Pickin’

I know I did a story about the monthly “pickin'” at Jackson’s Cape County History Center recently, but I was there again Saturday night and couldn’t help shooting more pictures. It’s officially promoted as a “Traditional Music Night,” but everybody just calls it a “pickin'” where anybody with a musical instrument can sit down and play away. Miscues, false starts and forgotten lyrics add to the fun.

The first performance I attended had maybe a dozen or so people singing, toe tapping and clapping with the musicians. Attendance Saturday night was just under the number where the Fire Marshall might get interested. (Director Carla Jordan is working on that problem.)

Gary R. Lucy exhibit still up

The panels for the Gary R. Lucy exhibit took up the center portion of the room, but there was plenty of seating around the edges. If you haven’t been in to see the exhibit, it’ll be up until April 10.

Doc – a Leap Year baby

Carla’s husband Steve Jordan – better know as “Doc” – looks on while Carla sings a song with a confusing chorus that most of us were afraid to join in on because we weren’t sure what would come out if our tongues got tangled. He was born on February 29, the same date as the bass player, so they are going to be carded for a long, long time.

History Center photo gallery

Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move around the gallery. Toe-tapping is allowed, but mouse clicks work better.

Cape County History Center Pickin’ 02-17-2016

February 20, 2016

Gary R. Lucy Exhibit

The Cape Girardeau County History Center in Jackson was hanging a new exhibit Friday afternoon – A Celebration of the Artwork of Gary R. Lucy.

Upon arrival, I watched a guy (who turned out to be Gary Lucy) mesmerize a gaggle of fifth graders from Natalie Jones’ class at Immaculate Conception School. He was talking about art, how he got started (he thought he was going to be a CPA) and what it was like to be an artist.

The kids ate it up.

Kids asked good questions

When he was asked, “Are you always inspired?” he gave them an honest answer:

“No, no. People always ask ‘are you inspired?’ I’m in the mood to do this about ten percent of the time. [Laughter] The other 90 percent is ‘I need to DO this.’ Do you see what I’m saying? If I waited until I was in the mood or inspired, I wouldn’t get anything done. Artists are dreamers. Artists love to sit back and say, ‘Yo, man, I’m going to do this.’ Or ‘Man, I’m going to do that.’ And they sit there and dream about all the stuff they’re going to do, but they don’t ever do it because they don’t have the self discipline to stay the course.”

That led into a good discussion with the students about what self discipline is.

The Oscar Bird

At the end of his presentation, he whipped out a sketch board and drew his “Oscar Bird,” also known as The Good Luck Bird. He said it you are in need of luck, walk up and rub the bird’s nose. Ms. Jones said she would hang Oscar in her classroom.

Every kid who walked by the Oscar Bird gave its beak a quick rub.

Best conversation in a long time

After the fifth graders left, and while Gary’s wife Sandy and the museum folks were driving nails, hanging prints and adjusting lights, he an I sat at a table and had one of the most wide-ranging and enjoyable conversations I’ve had in a long time.

We shared our common love of the Mississippi’s history and lore. We talked about how photographers and artists see and use light; how he injects so much realism into his work, and how he maintains his houseboat.

I recognized some of the landmarks in his paintings: Eads Bridge under construction, Tower Rock, Island 10 off New Madrid…

His use of light is incredible. He was able to paint an accurate image of Tower Rock at night by parking his mobile studio, a houseboat, in the river on just the right night. I’ve tried several times to shoot the full moon at The Rock, but I guess I’m going to have to requisition a boat to do it right.

Meet Gary yourself

If you enjoy good artwork, history and good conversation, I suggest you attend the opening of Gary’s show Saturday, February 20, from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m. The History Center is located in the Andrew Jackson Building across from the courthouse.

Rather than doing a lot of typing, I’ll point you to Gary’s biography on his website. Oh, by the way, he told the kids the Rest of the Story behind the Corvette that he mentions in his bio. I’ll have you ask him about it.

Gallery of the hanging

Hmmm, that sounds a little awkward when I see it in print, but I’ll leave it. Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move around.