Scenics Archives

July 14, 2011October 29, 2024

Bird’s Point Levee July 2011

I was working on a project that sent me on a wild goose chase to Wilson City, east of Charleston and west of Cairo off U.S. 62. Had the bridge not been closed, I could have been in Cairo in less than 10 miles. Mother was along for the ride, so I told her we should go down to see Bird’s Point since we were so close. I plugged it into the GPS and we were off on an adventure.

As best I can piece together, we came off 62 on Mississippi County Route 301, drove until we saw some work being done in the distance on the levee, but decided not to ignore the signs warning us to keep out. We kept on CR301 until it hit CR302, then went up on the levee, which was called CR 303. Along the way, we saw some signs that water had been in that area, but we also saw lots of freshly-planted fields. Click on any photo to make it larger.

Old remains found

I’m guessing the road was closed because old remains had been found along one section of the levee. The Missourian reported that the Osage Nation American Indian tribe has been involved in the investigation, leading to the assumption that the bones and relics were part of a native tribal settlement. The Department of Natural Resources has put a blackout on news of the finds at the request of the Native American tribes involved in order to protect the site from looters.

Remaining water is bird paradise

We saw scores of wading birds taking advantage of the fish trapped in water left behind after the flood.

Fields are turning green

Despite dire predictions that the fields would be ruined for decades, we saw plenty of evidence that farmers were able to plant a lot of crops as soon as the fields dried out. In fairness, we only saw a tiny fraction of the land that had been flooded. I’m sure there ARE parts that have been turned into moonscape and are buried under huge deposits of sand. My point is that not ALL of the land has been ruined.

Scour area is impressive

CR 303, the levee road, ended abruptly at one of the places it was breached. The massive flow of water gouged deep holes in the ground. My van parked atop the levee will give you a sense of scale. I’m guessing the levee is about 15 feet above surrounding terrain. The bluff in the foreground are 15 or 20 feet below that, and I don’t know how deep the water is in the pit.

View behind me

As impressive as that is, if you turn 180 degrees and look the other direction, the fields are clear and have been planted. I don’t know how much work it took to get them into that condition, but looking at the gouged earth without looking at the planted fields will give you the wrong impression, and vice versa.

Equipment at the ready

I don’t know if this equipment belongs to farmers or if it’s there to repair the levee. I didn’t want to interfere with whatever work they were doing, so I didn’t go down to ask.

Gallery of Bird’s Point photos

Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right to move through the gallery.

July 13, 2011February 11, 2021

Sikeston’s 1st Methodist Church Columns

I had about 20 minutes to kill before a meeting in Sikeston Monday, so Mother and I cruised through the downtown area. I saw the railroad tracks had been torn up (too bad they didn’t turn the right of way into a rails-to-trails) and the train depot turned into a nice museum. Just to the north of the main drag, I saw some stone columns sticking up.

“Those were a real big deal,” Mother said. Some big, old church burned down and they salvaged the columns as a memorial, she elaborated.

Church dedicated in 1912; burned in 1968

I couldn’t find much information on the columns beyond a plaque on the north side that said the First Methodist Church was dedicated in 1912 and was destroyed by fire in 1968. The columns were restored by the the Vandivort family in memory of Rosemary P. Vandivort.

Google came up short and The Sikeston Standard Democrat didn’t have much beyond a few Out of the Past columns that said the fire was in March of 1968. Somebody else is going to have to fill in the blanks.

Sikeston – Cape were debate rivals

I came into town last fall just in time to cover my first Central High School football game in 40-some years, the clash between unbeaten Cape and Sikeston. I sure hope I wasn’t the jinx that caused Central’s 21-0 loss.

In our day, Jackson was the school to beat, particularly in football. I don’t recall Sikeston being a big athletic rival, but I could be wrong.

In debate, though, Sikeston was a worthy opponent, maybe not feared, but respected. Most of the smaller schools around Cape didn’t have the depth of talent to draw from nor coaches like Ruby Davis and Calvin Chapman. Sikeston, on the other hand, had good debaters and good coaches.

One of the most popular Sikeston debaters was John “Doc” Carpenter, who was also active in Scouts and Order of the Arrow. He was a bright guy who always seemed mature beyond his age. I published a photo of him working a wreck with Walter Joe Ford when I reviewed Jerry Ford’s book The Gordonville Grove: Tombstones, Tambourines, & Tammany Hall. (Now in its third printing and available at Amazon by clicking that link). “Doc” went on to become Cape County coroner. He died of colon cancer in 2000.

Even though the schools were fierce competitors in individual events, they would work together at things like the Jefferson City Student Congress, forming alliances to get bills passed and to get their students elected to prestigious positions. We Swampeast Missourians enjoyed beating out the bigger schools in the state.

July 9, 2011September 22, 2011

Deerly Departed on Mount Auburn

Mother and I happened to be driving northbound on Mount Auburn Rd. just about dusk a couple of nights ago. When we cleared the Hopper Road light, I looked over at a small clearing and spotted a small deer in the grass. Even though we lived “out in the country” when we moved in 50+ years ago and had cattle grazing the field behind our house, we never saw wild animals bigger than racoons, possums and the rare woodchuck in the neighborhood. It’s only been in the last 10 or 15 years, with development eating up all the countryside, that she has had deer show up in the yard.

When I drove past there at about the same time Saturday night, the deer was in the same place. I thought he might be stuffed until I saw his white tail move.

Does Missouri use decoy deer?

Still not convinced that it was a live deer, I went home and asked Brother Mark if Missouri ever used fake deer to catch hunters shooting where they weren’t supposed to. He said he thought they did, but wasn’t sure.

I asked Mother if she’d like to see if the deer was real or fake. The deer was still there when we pulled into the parking lot of the Ford & Sons Funeral Home on the other side of the street. I got off a couple of shots of the deer and was convinced that it WAS real.

Cars have the right of way

I was walking across the street for a closer shot when the light changed a block away. From the speed the cars were coming, it was clear that cars, not pedestrians, have the right of way on Cape streets. Realizing that walkers were divided into two groups: the quick and the dead, I broke into a run. That spooked not just one deer, but two.

It wasn’t until I looked at the first frame enlarged on the computer that I realized that both of them were visible in the original shot.

Bunny rabbits in front of Franklin School a week ago; deer on Mount Auburn Road on Saturday. Cape’s getting to be a wild town.

July 9, 2011September 22, 2011

Hard Work, Sunsets and UFOs

Brother Mark reminded me – nagged me might be a better word – that we should go over to Kentucky Lake and do some work on Mother’s trailer. She hadn’t been over there this season after having a major plumbing overhaul done last fall, and we needed to see if the plumbing leaked (it did). Some soft spots had developed in the floor over the years, the worst one being by the door leading to the kitchen. It wasn’t dangerous for mother yet because she barely weighs her age (90 in October of this year), but not all of us are that light.

My adage is “Never look beneath the skin of an old structure. Nothing good is ever found there.” Mark, who must have been watching a lot of hospital movies, didn’t hesitate. He took the scalpel and made the first cut into the carpet. It didn’t look good. Not knowing how trailers are constructed, I was afraid we’d be replacing a big chunk of floor before we got to the good stuff.

As it turned out, it WASN’T that bad. I’m proud to say that the ancient piece of plywood I cut fit the hole on the first try. The best part is that there are no blood splatters on it. There were many summers that a trip to the emergency room was part of the entertainment.

Click on any frame to make it larger.

Plywood brought back bad memories

That plywood brought back some bad memories, though, of the summer I worked for Dad as a laborer.

One of the least favorite tasks was unloading truckloads of those 4×8-foot, 3/4″ plywood sheets that had been used as concrete forms. They had been sprayed with “form oil,” which was designed to keep the concrete from sticking to the plywood. It soaked into the wood and made it super heavy, not to mention awful to handle. Where the concrete HAD stuck to the wood, you had to take a wire brush and get it all off. After that, you used corks to fill the holes drilled into the wood to tie the forms together. The sheet was then drenched in form oil and stacked, usually onto shelving that was above my head.

Here’s what happened on a date night after a day of humping plywood forms.

When I looked at this piece of plywood, I wondered if I was the guy who had driven the corks that were still sticking in it.

Close call turns into firewood

Just before leaving, Mark and Mother talked with our neighbor who was chopping up a tree for firewood. It had narrowly missed hitting Mother’s trailer when one of the spring storms blew through.

Dead Skunk on Ky 121

By the time we got something to eat (we had planned on the Catfish Kitchen, but there was a 40-minute wait), it was getting dusk. As we were heading back across a nearly deserted Kentucky 121, I liked the way the road looked. I didn’t know the dark object on the fog line was a skunk until we got a whiff of it. I’ve shot some photos that were stinkers, but I’m pretty sure this one smells for real.

Sunset kept playing hide and seek

We were heading almost directly in a big, beautiful sunset, but every time I’d raise the camera, either we’d meet a car or a tree would block the shot. Finally, I fell back on my old saying, “Some days you make photographs; some days you settle for memories.” This one is somewhere in between.

Cairo at night

It had just turned Dark O’Clock when we crossed over the Ohio River into Illinois. I told my passengers that I had never photographed Cairo at night. (That’s not exactly correct. I DID shoot the riots there in July of 1967, but it’s not quite the same thing.)

Mother, of course, used her standard line, “Aren’t you afraid somebody is going to knock you over the head?”

“No, Mother, I’m not afraid someone is going to knock me over the head. Somebody has to BE here to knock you over the head. Do you see anyone standing around waiting for a van with a Florida photographer in it to pull up so they can knock him over the head?” There were so few people out that even the mosquitoes had died of starvation.

UFOs over downtown

The streets were dark except for patches of light from streetlights, so it was hard to tell what I was shooting. When I looked at the camera display after taking the photo, I noticed a staggered row of lights in the sky. My first thought was that they were on the Ohio River bridge. When I got home, I had the lights show up in various places in 15 frames. Interestingly enough, similar ghost lights showed up faintly when I turned 180 degrees to shoot north on the street.

I’m open to speculation, but I’m going to say what some folks would claim as unidentified flying objects were some kind of internal reflections in the camera lens elements brought about by the bright streetlights contrasting with the dark sky.

Cairo Elks Club

The only sign of life on the east side of the main drag was at the Cairo Elks Club. The neon Elks sign, the Flag and the streetlight made a nice combination. The moon up and to the right of the street light was an added bonus. I’d like to say I saw it, but I was so busy trying to get the right exposure and to wait for the wind to riffle the flag that I didn’t notice it.

P.S. Nobody got knocked over the head.