Remember the Birds?

The evening I shot the St. Vincent’s Catholic Church at sunset, I turned the camera in the other direction (standing in almost the same spot) and took this photo of a radio tower that stands along the railroad tracks. (Click to make it larger.)

There was something about the blue sky, the silhouetted tower and the microwave dish that looked like a flying saucer on its side that appealed to me. When I enlarged the frame, there were streaks of birds flying by (or they might have been mosquitoes; they were that big that night).

Sky would turn black with birds

That reminded me of the huge flocks of starlings that would turn the skies over Cape black at dawn and dusk in the 1960s. They would fly over the house making the most raucous screeching sounds. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone. I stood out in the yard blasting away with my Daisy BB gun a few times, but quickly realized I’d never hit anything.

The birds made the news in 1965, when folks in Dexter started testing positive for histoplasmosis, a lung disease attributed to  fungus in the droppings and soil underneath the roosting areas used by several million starlings and blackbirds. A March 24, 1965, Missourian story said that the birds had been roosting on a 20-acre tract near the city for the past five winters.

Eight million birds near Dexter

A five-acre tract near Frisco, about 1-1/2 miles south of Essex, had also been a roosting area for an estimated three to five million birds. It was estimated that as many as eight million birds were nesting around Dexter.

I did a tongue-in-cheek story about suggestions the city had received for taking care of the bird problem. They ranged from the bizarre to the impractical. One, I recall, was to spray them with detergent from the air in the wintertime so that water would penetrate their feathers and they’d freeze to death. The problem with most of the solutions, a city official said, was “what do you do with two million dead blackbirds?”

Birds roosted on bridge

Another story quoted Marvin Campbell, Cape County sanitation officer, as saying that the main roosting place for the Cape Girardeau starlings appeared to be the Mississippi River bridge. Evidence was found that thousands of birds frequented it. The problem wasn’t as great then as it had been in previous years when the birds roosted on State College property, he continued. (I wonder if that’s where the Home of the Birds got its name?)

Ridding the bridge of the birds was going to be complicated because authorities from both Missouri and Illinois would have to be involved. Songbirds were mixed in with the starlings, so mass extermination was not an option.

I suspect that development eliminated most of the nesting areas and the birds either died off or moved on.

 

High in the Common Pleas Courthouse

When you look at the Common Pleas Courthouse from Spanish Street, you hardly notice the windows in the dome. (You can click the photos to make them larger.)

Looking east from the courthouse

If you’re lucky enough to hook up with guys like IT director Eric McGowen and public works director Don McQuay, folks who have the right keys and know where the hidden passageways are, you can see some impressive sights. I’m glad Friend Shari and I picked a day when it wasn’t 107 outside for our tour. Even on a relatively cool (sub-100) day, it was hot and dusty. The tiny and winding staircases were made for smaller people than me.

Here’s a view down Themis Street. The greenish building on the left side of Spanish and Themis was Doyle’s Hat Shop. One of the Teen Age Clubs was in the building across the street from it. The tall, red brick building that was the Sturdivant Bank may not be with us for long. It’s on the Endangered Building List. A steel cable is keeping bricks from the top floor from raining down on Main Street.

View to the west

This is the view in the opposite direction. The Civil War fountain and statue is to the right of the roof. Don shared an interesting story about it when we were at the Jackson Courthouse. We’ll save it for another day.

DR. C.E. Schuchert’s bandstand

The bandstand dedicated to Dr. C.E. Schuchert and the KFVS tower can be seen to the northwest. The view from the 11th floor of the KFVS building is pretty spectacular, too. There’s a photo looking back toward the courthouse that provides an interesting counterpoint to this one.

 

Y’All Come To My Party

If you don’t count key lime Daiquiri parties that burned out three blenders in the mid-1970s, I haven’t been involved in many parties. Here’s an invitation to one being held at the Lutheran Heritage Center and Museum in Altenburg Tuesday, July 17, at 7 p.m.

I’m speaking on Regional Photography and showing off my photos at a conference at the museum in October, so this is a chance for folks to help me weed down my print selections and get a sneak peek at some videos I’ll be presenting then.

Museum director Carla Jordan assured me that appetizers and cocktails will be served. Being as how this is a pioneer German community, there’s a good chance that “cocktails” means beer.

You don’t have to dress up

I’m wearing jeans, so don’t worry about pulling out your fancy duds.

One of my favorite bike rides is from Cape to Altenburg (here’s the scenic, if not most direct route). If you haven’t driven it, you’re in for a treat. You’ll be going through beautiful rolling farmlands.

One caution: Carla says keep your eye open for deer. She’s been spotting a lot of them on her drive to and from Cape. I’ve seen a few. They’re pretty grazing in the fields; they’d be a lot less attractive in the middle of the road.

There’s a quilt show, too

If you don’t think it’s worth driving all that way just to see me, the museum has a “Quilters of Lutheran Ladies Aid” display of quilts made by local women.

Quilt photo gallery

Here’s a gallery of some of the quilts.Click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left of right side of the picture to move through the gallery. Here’s a link to the museum’s website.

SEMO’s Cardiac Hill

Several of my readers have mentioned Cardiac Hill on the Southeast Missouri State University campus. They’re mostly crazy folks like Terry Hopkins, who participated in track, a sport where you run even if nobody’s chasing you.

It’s quite a bucolic sight, looking off to the west of the path that leads from the Academic Hall area down to The Towers and other student housing. Even on an afternoon when the temperatures are sliding to around 103, the shade and greenery have a cooling effect. You can click on the photos to make them larger.

Cardiac Hill’s not so tough

In 1990, we took the Great Trip Out West, which included the Grand Canyon. I knew that you should never walk DOWN further than you are able to walk up, so I discouraged Wife Lila and Sons Matt and Adam from going down too far on a day when the temperatures came close to the surface of the sun as measured from Mercury.

When it came time to turn around (actually, when it was PAST time to turn around), I got about 15 steps and found myself with my hands on my knees, bent over, watching sweat splash onto my Redwing boots. Adam, who was about 10, kept scampering around us wanting to keep going. Finally, hoping he would get lost or eaten by a goat, we turned him loose.

When we looked up, we saw him seemingly half a mile ahead of us hanging over a lookout point with some concerned-looking adults. We could make out that they were having a serious discussion, probably about his welfare. Finally, he leaned way out and pointed to us. He was probably telling the strangers, “Those are my parents, if they live.”

Learning from the Grand Canyon

Even though it didn’t look like Cardiac Hill was all THAT steep and it wasn’t all THAT long, I used the Grand Canyon Rule and went down only about a third of the way, not quite to the emergency stanchion that I assume is the half-way point.

I DID mention that it was 103 in the shade, right?

I’m going to use a different rule next time: Take the temperature (103), subtract my age (65) and subtract the grade (12.5 degrees, estimated). The result (103-65-12.5) = 25.5 feet, the distance that I should consider walking down Cardiac Hill. I was going to build in humidity, but that would have left me with a negative number to walk.

Thanks to Dr. Bambi, AKA the Yarn Bomber, who told me how to get to Cardiac Hill.