I’m a sucker for graffiti and unanswered question. I also like to watch people and try to make up stories about them to pass the time in airports and shopping malls.
Bro Mark and I used to play a game. We’d sit somewhere to gauge the interaction between two people at a nearby table. We’d watch their body language and try to determine if they were a new couple, a couple on a first date, if they were just friends, if they were headed for a breakup (or in the middle of the one at that moment). Once, to the dismay of someone who was with Mark, we flipped a coin to see who would walk over to the table to see whose theory was correct. His date won (or lost) the flip, but refused to go, so I was elected.
Of course, I reported back that my theory was correct: they were on a first date. That’s why she was laughing at his jokes they were both learning forward toward each other and they were gazing deeply into the other person’s eyes.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. They had been going together for some time. They were just disgustingly infatuated with each other.
Who is “Not Mallory?”
So, what’s the story behind the chalked message “Not Mallory, Will you give me a second chance?” [Click to make larger.]
Did someone scream out the name “Mallory!” at an inopportune time with they weren’t WITH Mallory? Is that why “Not Mallory” is being addressed? Did “Not Mallory” give the person a second chance?
Speculation welcome.
In case you didn’t recognize the location, that’s the floodwall on the right and the Bill Emerson Memorial Bridge in the background.
After dinner, Mother and I took a drive down to the river where we were treated to a panorama of a barge crossing under a beautiful moonrise. If the moon wasn’t full, it was close enough for me. (Click on any photo to make it larger.)
I’m getting ahead of the story.
But, the moonrise photo is putting the cart before the horse. That was the last thing I shot. Let’s take things in order.
I walked almost to the north end of the new river walk, then started back to the Broadway gate opening. The standard contingent of strollers, folks with folding lawn chairs, and just plain sitter-downers were gathering to enjoy the gentle breeze and welcome cool temperature.
My eye was drawn to a gentleman in a gray shirt who was teaching the Duncan kids how to skip rocks. He preferred to remain anonymous, so we’ll call him Sir Skipper.
Gerry and Cassie Duncan of Kennett, and their three kids, Whitnee (11), Tanner (7) and Caleb (4) were on their way from Kennett to St. Louis for a Cardinals baseball game. They are fans of Broussards, so they stopped for a bite to eat, then decided to wander down to the river to let the kids burn off some energy.
Search for the ultimate skipping rock
Sir Skipper explained to the children the the first step is to find “the ultimate skipping rock.” They followed him up and down the riverbank like he was the Pied Piper, rushing up time and time again, rock in hand to ask, “Is this it?”
Caleb and Tanner work on style points
Before long, every male who passed by offered his own special skipping advice. (It must be a guy thing.) For the first half dozen or so throws, Caleb and Tanner were bigger on style than results.
“You throw like a girl”
When I chided Whitnee for using an overhand throwing motion instead of a sideways flip – “You’re throwing like a girl” – she immediately countered with, “It’s because I AM a girl.” It didn’t take long for her to master the wrist flick that would send the rocks skipping.
Mom Cassie kept marveling, “This is free. It doesn’t take batteries. It’s not electronic…”
“MOM, I skipped one”
Caleb, at four, took a while to get the hang of skipping. When he DID start skipping as much as splashing, he expected to get noticed.” MOM!!!! (dragged out to three syllables), I skipped one!”
“Do you remember….?”
The kids took off a few minutes to watch a train go by, then to try to get a towboat to blow its whistle, but couldn’t get the boat’s attention. Dad was getting antsy to get on the road, but every entreaty to pack it in was met with “Just one more…..”
I told Cassie that 30 years from now the kids may not remember the baseball game, but I bet at least one of them will start a conversation with “do you remember that guy who taught us how to skip rocks?”
And that, Dear Reader, gets us back up the first photo where you came in.
After seeing that the flooding had gone down, I decided to drive down Old Highway 61 that parallels I-55 south of Sprigg Street and ends at a boat ramp. After taking a scenic photo, I noticed a couple throwing a cast net. [Click on any photo to make it larger.]
Aerial of Diversion Channel
Ed and Melinda Roberts of Jackson were trying to snag enough bait to put out two trotlines where the Mississippi River meets up with the ditch that is just north of the Diversion Channel. Ed Calls it the North Cut Ditch. I’ve heard it called the Little Ditch and at least one topographic map labels it the Dutchtown Ditch.
I was able to snap a picture of the Diversion Channel and the North Cut from the Cape Air Flight I was on. The Channel is on the right, the larger of the two canals.
“It’s all about stuffing the freezer”
Ed is a guy who fishes for the fun of eating fish. “I hope to have 400-500 pounds of fish in the freezer before the season is over. It’s all about stuffing the freezer.” Most of them will be channel catfish or blue cats. His biggest catch was an 82-pound blue on a trotline. “I WISH I had caught it on a rod.”
Enough bait to do the job
The water was boiling with fish, mostly gars, which the couple tossed up on the bank to join dozens more. “Most of them were killed by bow hunters,” he said. After about half a dozen casts, he brought up enough bait to do the job.
Heat killed many fish
“I’ve never seen shad die like this in the summertime. It’s the heat that’s killing them,” he explained. The hot water also limits how deep he can set his lines.
Nature’s cleanup crew
Maggots are hard at work cleaning up anything edible left behind by the flood and fishermen. “It’s a good thing,” Ed said.
Launching the boat
When I asked if I could follow them down to where they was going to put the boat in the water, ED offered me something better: a ride to watch them put out the lines.
Video: how to set out a trotline
Here’s your opportunity to see how to set out a trotline.
Motor wasn’t running right
When we started out, the motor was missing and sputtering. I wondered if they had invited me along to be a galley slave if the engine conked out. Ed assured me that wasn’t the case. He said that a plug was fouled and he wouldn’t go far from the ramp until he had it cleared.
Headed out the Diversion Channel
Before long, we were headed out the Diversion Channel to meet the Mississippi River. I’ll run scenic shots from the ride another day. I always thought of the Channel as a sterile ditch, but it’s a beautiful waterway with interesting trees on both sides.
Northbound on the Mississippi
Before long, we were northbound on the river. The boat felt a lot smaller out there.
Checking out the motor
When we got to where he was going to set his lines, he still wasn’t happy with the way the motor was running, so he left Melinda and me on the bank while he did a high-speed run in the river until he was satisfied.
Baiting the hooks
I couldn’t shoot both stills and video at the same time, so you’ll have to watch the video if you want to see what’s involved in setting a trotline. Here he is baiting one of the hooks with a fish he caught when we first met. If he’s in the river, he’s permitted to have 50 hooks; if he’s fishing in the ditches, he can have a maximum of 33.
Getting close to sunset
Ed was starting to run out of daylight, so he decided not to set out both lines. When we pulled into the bank, I asked what time the mosquitoes would show up. “I’ve got pepper spray, so I can hold ’em off for a little while while you make a run for it,” I offered.
Ed and Melinda assured me that they had plenty of bug repellent, but Ed said he’d run me back to the ramp before it got dark. They planned to stay a good part of the night running the line about every two hours and fishing with a rod and reel in the meantime.
It was a great experience. There’s a lesson here: you sure meet some nice people if you just get out of your steel cage from time to time and talk to the folks you come across. When I woke up that morning, I never dreamed that I’d end the day in a small boat on the Mississippi River.
I was rocketing along a levee road trying to get a good angle to shoot the suspension pipeline over the Mississippi River between Grand Tower, Ill., and Wittenberg, Mo., when I saw the sun light up the tassels on on a corn field. It was worth stopping for 45 or 50 seconds. Click on the photos to make them larger.
Longest suspension pipeline in the world
When it was built, this pipeline was said to be the longest in the world. Someone saw some of the photos I’ve taken of it over the years and suggested it would be a nice souvenir photo book to go along with a couple others I’m working on.
I have shot it from below while working on a story about a ferry that crossed under it; I’ve shot it from the north, west, south and the air. This was the first time I’ve shot it from the Illinois side.
Must be getting old
I had been there about an hour earlier and got some nice pictures, but after heading north along the river and not finding a good angle, I decided to race the sun back to here. I made it with about five minutes to spare. When I blasted over the top of the levee and screeched to a halt, Mother yelled, “Whoa!”
I’m a sucker for graffiti and unanswered question. I also like to watch people and try to make up stories about them to pass the time in airports and shopping malls.
