Jim Stone Archives

May 29, 2021May 29, 2021

The Garitos of Chaffee

Anthony and Helen Garito – Chaffee- 05-24-2021

My old high school buddy Jim Stone came into town to research some of his family tree. That led us to cemeteries and courthouses in Cape, Scott, Bollinger and Stoddard counties.

Jim found a Stone with the ‘N’ reversed

While he was looking for relatives, I was just looking, particularly for something that might be a good topic for Memorial Day.

The unusual and ornate grave marker for Anthony and Helen Garito in Union Cemetery in Chaffee caught my eye. (Someone will surely point out that they don’t really qualify for Memorial Day attention because they didn’t die in their war. I will acknowledge the nit, and feature them anyway.)

Not much info available

I figured finding information about a family memorialized that grandly would be easy.

Unfortunately, The Chaffee Signal has long ceased publishing. When small down papers die, a lot of the town’s history dies with them.

Battle of the Bulge survivor

A book, Battle of the Bulge filled in some gaps: “Anthony S. Garito, born in Norwich, NY in 1914 of Italian parentage. Inducted at Ft. Bragg, NC in April 1943. After basic training, sent to HQs 127th FA Bn., 35th Inf. Div., Ft. Rucker, AL in July 1943.

“Participated in mock battle for three months with the 100th Inf. Div. in the Tennessee Maneuvers. Sailed for Southern England and nearing D-Day, General “Ike” made his appearance to inspect troops readiness for battle. Landed on Omaha Beach and battled their way through St. Lo, France, and toward the Ardennes Forest.

“In the midst of freezing weather and bitter cold, a smashing blow fell upon us on Dec. 16, 1944, the first day now known as the Battle of the Bulge. Many Nazi prisoners were captured wearing complete GI uniforms.

“Garito is a disabled veteran (paralyzed on right side) with five Campaign Battle Stars and Purple Heart with life member of the Military Order of the Ardennes, Grand Cross of Homage, Reserve Officers Assn., Disabled American Veterans, Veterans of Foreign Wars, AMVETS, American Legion, and member of the European Theatre of the Battle of the Bulge, WWII.

Met his wife overseas

“He remained overseas in the European Theatre of Occupation as Lt. Colonel after VE-Day, met a WAC friend, now his wife of 42 years, and lives in Chafee MO. One son, and two grandsons, Robbie and David.”

Involved in minor crash

I like to say I do stories about ordinary people – folks who get their names in the paper when they are born, get married, die, and get a speeding ticket.

Mr. Garito didn’t get a speeding ticket, but he lost a $15,000 judgement because of a car crash near Dutchtown in 1963. The Sikeston Standard reported the accident occurred when Mr. Garito’s car and one driven by Larry Meyr of Chaffee “collided or came near to colliding,” resulting in Mr. Meyr going into a ditch. The jury was out for 45 minutes before delivering the verdict.

The Garitos married in 1947

1948 Garito Building

Jim wanted to see if the Chaffee museum on Main Street in Chaffee was open (unfortunately, it’s by appointment only). While I was getting into my car, I looked across the street and saw an impressive stone building with the name Garito on it, along with the date 1948, a year after Anthony and Helen were married.

It had the same “running legs” logo as was on the grave marker. I wonder what the symbolism is?

Ran liquor store from 1948 to 1964

A 1999 obituary in The Southeast Missourian said that Mr. Garito owned and operated Garito Liquor Package Store from 1948 to 1964. I wonder if it was in this building?

The International Bowling Museum & Hall of Fame reported on July 4, 1963, that “Tony Garito had a good Independence Day! At Lucky 13 Lanes in Chaffee, Missouri, Garito rolled a 279. The center was outfitted by AMF equipment, and the manufacturing company provided proprietors with these ashtrays that could become personalized trophies in a pinch.”

September 24, 2020

Hair Apparent

When I got to thinking about it, I calculated that I hadn’t had a haircut since sometime in February. You can click on the photos to make them larger, but I’m not sure I’d encourage that.

It was already getting serious in May

I took this silhouette going down the basement staircase on May 14, 2020. I bought myself some time (I thought) by wearing a cap everywhere.

St. Louis Shari and Jim Stone

Ten years ago, high school friends Shari Stiver and Jim Stone came to Cape for an impromptu visit. They both returned to Cape last week, my first visitors since the lockdown this spring. Unfortunately, they missed each other by a day.

She was my first girlfriend. Like so many first romances, this one didn’t end well. I think you could use phrases like “crash and burn,” “down in flames” and “train wreck” to describe my reaction to the inevitable breakup. We spoke only when absolutely necessary for the rest of our high school careers and, not at all for the next 40 or so years.

Jim was the one who convinced me that I needed to escape Cape or I’d be a One-Shot Frony forever. I followed him to Ohio University my junior year.

“Can you use the round scissors?”

Shari, who I knew more for her cutting tongue than her tonsorial talents wanted to know why I hadn’t gone for a haircut.

I explained that I hadn’t peeked in the window to check out my regular barber’s safety protocols, so I wasn’t taking any chances.

She claimed that she was an accomplished hair chopper, and her mother, LaFern Stiver, vouched for her.

Won over, I gave her the OK, but I preferred that she use the safe-to-run-with rounded-end scissors. She demanded that we go shopping for some scarier ones.

‘Taper, taper, taper’

With much trepidation, I allowed myself to be strapped into a chair in the living room, with a towel clipped around my neck. “Wife Lila always says I’m supposed to tell the barber, ‘Taper, taper, taper.’ I don’t know what that means, but I always say it.”

“I do, and I will,” Shari promised, as she started waving the scissors around, eventually causing enough hair to fall on the towel to knit a small kitten.

I hopped onto a Zoom session the other night, and Wife Lila, unprompted, said, “Nice haircut.” Nice to have her approval (or the image was fuzzy).

November 15, 2018November 15, 2018

Snow Comes to Cape

The weather folks have been teasing us all week telling us that a big snow storm (they call it an “event”) is coming. We had a little God Dandruff scatter for a few minutes earlier in the week, but Wednesday was supposed to be the biggie.

I had to go to the Jackson Walmart to have some prints made. As I backed out of the driveway, some fairly sizable flakes were getting organized, but I wasn’t worried. Just as I closed the car door, I noticed how the flag was nicely backlit, and some of the flakes were popping out. (You can click on the photos to make them larger.)

Rose bush looks like cotton field

Since I was already almost to Jackson, and because I had some time to kill, I decided to have a combo, slaw, fries and a Mr. Pibb at Wibb’s.

By the time I finished, there was serious snow on the road. I got behind a slow driver going up the steep hill next to the city park, and I kept thinking, “If this guy don’t dial some giddy-up, we’re going to spin out here.”

There wasn’t a bread and milk freak-out going on at Walmart when I picked up my prints, but a lot of baskets were filled with snow melt.

Hwy 61 between Jackson and Cape was covered. I got in behind a snow plow (at a safe distance), but parts of the road were still slick. Even going up Kingsway Drive kept my traction control popping on and off.

I looked at the rose bush in the front yard, and was glad I had a nice, warm house to hide away in.

Memories of snow and smack

I’m pretty cautious about driving on snow and ice because I learned at an early age that just because you can go doesn’t mean you can stop. Jim Stone, Carol Klarsfeld and I were checking out the sights on a steep hill near Bertling when we came around a curve and saw a car on our side of the road.

I put on the brakes, but gravity was not on our side. We slowly crashed into the other car with my tank of a 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon. My car suffered so little damage I didn’t bother to take a photo of it. The other guy was less lucky.

OK, I’ll go take a look

After pacing around in the kitchen for a few minutes, temptation overcame good sense and I grabbed for a jacket and headed out.

I learned as a Missourian photographer, that there are a few places in Cape that are like shooting fish in a barrel when it’s time to come up with some weather or wild art.

Capaha Park and the train is one of them.

A heavy, wet snow

This may be one of those great snows that turns out to be very pretty, but probably won’t stick around long. Roads that were pretty treacherous when I set out were already plowed or in the process of being plowed by the time I headed back.

This was taken near the new pavilion in Capaha Park that overlooks where the pool used to be.

Next stop: SEMO

It took two passes to shoot this picture of Academic Hall. When I got right in front of the building, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a bus coming up behind me. I figured I’d better keep going to give him room.

Then, I saw him turn off.

When I made my second pass, I managed to get off a few frames before a car showed up in the mirror again. What are those fools doing out on a night like this?

A swing and a miss

I felt like I had to shoot something along Broadway. These trees and utility pole caught my eye, but I’m not overjoyed with the result.

Oh, well, you can strike out 7 of 10 times at bat, and still make a million bucks a year.

Main Street decorations

Some other folks had posted pictures of Main Street’s decorations on Facebook before the snow, so I actually got out of the car to shoot this.

Lady Liberty and Freedom Corner

This situation looked better than it photographed. I’m including it because it was the second time I got out of the car.

As I stepped off the curb, I thought, “Please don’t let this slush be deep enough to fill my shoe.”

It wasn’t.

I was acutely aware of the possibility, because the night before I was pricing a pair of old-fashioned galoshes that I could slip over my shoes when confronted with mud, slush or snow. When I saw the price, I decided my toes could get pretty chilly before I’d spring for overshoes.

I decided that I had cheated death enough, so I hung it up and headed home. My meanderings didn’t produce any great art, but it felt good to check snow off the year’s bucket list.

October 31, 2015

Remember Student Standby?

I ran across an old TWA ticket stub from March 19, 1967. I was flying from St. Louis to Cleveland on what the airlines called “Youth Fare,” but most of us dubbed “student standby.”

St. Louis to Cleveland for $16.54

I was able to fly from Missouri to Ohio for $16.54. I was racking my brain trying to figure out why I was going to Cleveland, then I figured out what was going on.

In March of 1967, I flew to Cleveland and probably got a ride down to Athens with one of Jim Stone’s friends so I could visit him at Ohio University to check out the school. It was a good thing I did. I had applied to OU, but I hadn’t gotten a rejection letter or an acceptance letter. Jim suggested we go by the admissions office to see what was going on.

“Your grades aren’t high enough to meet our standards,” I was told.

“Not good enough?” I countered. “I have a 3.85 average on a scale of 4.0. How smart do I have to be to get into this place?”

She pulled out my file, shuffled through the paperwork, then said, “Somebody made a mistake. You’re in.”

You were good unless you got bumped

The airlines were clear that your seat was safe only so long as the seat wasn’t sold to a full-fare passenger. Planes flew with lots of empty seats in those days (which is why they calculated that a half was better than a nothing), so the odds were pretty good that you were OK.

I never got bumped, but I saw others having to leave the plane. That always made me nervous because I had seen enough of those crash stories where some kid was interviewed, “Yes, I was going to be on that flight, but, at the last second, I was bumped. If that hadn’t happened, I’d have been on that smashed tin can still smoking in a cornfield in Iowa.”

I was doubly nervous when I finally became a paying customer that bumped the last standby. That was REALLY tempting fate.

When did it end?

I tried to find a little of the history of student standby, but didn’t run across much. The Daily Pennsylvanian had a story in 1968 that said that several airlines were phasing out the half-price standby fare, going for one charging two-thirds of the tourist class price. The trade-off was that it would be considered a reserved seat not subject to bumping.

TWA, interestingly enough, was NOT one of the airlines eliminating standby at that time.

In addition to bringing in revenue from what would otherwise be empty seats, the youth fares hooked a whole generation on flying, and airline execs were quoted as saying they hoped to build brand loyalty for future sales. “With a student fare, the student’s taste is catered to a particular airline. When he is 22, he is more likely to use that airline.”