Tag: Steinhoff family

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The Seattle Seyers

One of the things Wife Lila had on her to-do list when we hit Seattle was to look up Ralph Seyer, one of her eight Seyer cousins. We were supposed to meet Ralph and his wife, Debbie, at their home at 4:30 for dinner. We were standing in line for a quick snack when Ralph said he had gotten home early and we could head up any time.

We decided to leave the restaurant in the south end of Seattle and head up to his place in the north end. I have been stuck in traffic before, but I have NEVER seen miles and miles of traffic backed up as far as it is here. It is such a normal occurrence that the Tune-to-XXX-for-a-Traffic-Advisory-When-Flashing signs weren’t flashing.

Seattle traffic worse than Atlanta’s

I looked at my GPS, which gives traffic conditions in near real time. Every alternate road we could take (and there aren’t many) was as red as the one we were on. I never thought I’d see a city with traffic as horrendous as Atlanta, but Seattle just bumped it out of first place.

Ralph and the GPS cooperated in getting us to the right address the first time, even though we were warned that the place normally doesn’t show up correctly.

The meal was worth fighting the traffic

I’m not going to pretend that I’m a foodie like my friend Jan Norris. In broad terms, we had grilled chicken; fresh asparagus wrapped in prosciutto put on the grill; seasoned carrots and potatoes baked in the oven, fresh corn on the cob, and fresh blueberries and strawberries for desert.

Food photography isn’t my specialty. I’m always too interested in eating than shooting. This is how it showed up on the table.

Helpful tourist tips

Ralph and Debbie gave us plenty of advice on what to see, what to avoid, how to get there and when we should go. Then they dropped a real time and money-saver on us: they offered us the use of their guest room for part of our visit.

We decided to stay in the south end of the world for the first part of our trip to go to places like Mount St. Helens and Mount Rainier, then concentrate on attractions in the north while we take advantage of their hospitality.

Ralph LOOKS like a Seyer

Ralph picked the Northwest because he liked the variety of climate and terrain. “You can be in the mountains one minute and the ocean in the next.” He should work for the chamber of commerce. The first myth he dispelled was that Seattle is a rainy city: it gets a lot less rain than many of the other major cities (then he listed them). Seattle can be cloudy, gloomy and have a drizzling rain, but it doesn’t have the deluges like Florida experiences.

Looks a lot like Dan in the 60s

I was struck by how much Ralph of 2011 still looks like his brother, Dan Seyer, when he was playing with The Impacts at the Teen Age Club in 1966 or 1967.

Janette Seyer, Ralph’s sister, shows up at a “Nun Circus” at the old St. Francis Hospital.

Diane Seyer and friends

Here’s an unpublished photo of Margie Hoffman, Diane Seyer (Ralph’s sister), Lila Perry (Steinhoff) and Dorothy Magg.  (Margie, Lila and Diane are cousins.)

Ray and Rosemary Seyer

I spent the better part of a day with Wife Lila’s aunt and uncle (Ralph’s parents), Ray and Rosemary Seyer, last fall, talking about their experiences before Swampeast Missouri was drained. I have a massive video editing project in front of me before that’s ready to publish.

Ralph commented that his dad’s stories are remarkably consistent. “All of the facts may not be exactly right, but the stories haven’t changed a word over the years.”

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Dexter’s Corner Stop Cafe

I’ve spent the past two days trying to find some folks I shot in New Madrid 44 years ago. It’s a long, hot story that we’ll cover later. My quest today took me to Sikeston, which isn’t far from Dexter. I managed to convince Mother that riding around with me was more fun that mowing the lawn when the heat index is 114 (she was mowing the lawn, not me). This is a mowing photo taken several years ago in Dutchtown to show her style.

Madeline DeJournett, Advance reporter and avid reader of this blog, has been touting a new restaurant in Dexter called the Mediterranean Steak House “on Locust, south of the Ben Franklin store.” That’s the way you give directions when you live in a small town. There’s no way to enter that in my GPS, so we got quite a tour of Dexter.

Dexter provided an education

I remember Dexter well. Jim Kirkwood and I got to help build Hwy 60 going through the town the summer that our two dads, L.V. Steinhoff and James Kirkwood of Steinhoff & Kirkwood, decided that we should learn the value of education. They wanted to get us smart enough NOT to do what they did for a living. I kept looking for a landmark that would help me find the stretch of road we helped pour, but it’s changed a lot.

Anyway, at 33 minutes past Hungry o’clock, we pulled up in front of the steak house. It was closed on Monday. We went back to the main drag and passed predictable fast food joints.

Corner Stop Cafe

I thought I remembered see a small local diner just up the street from the steak house, so we headed back down Locust, past the Ben Franklin store, until we came to the Corner Stop Cafe. There were a few cars around it, it looked clean and it looked new, so we decided to give it a shot.

As soon as we opened the door, I felt right at home: a voice said, “Watch your step.” I’ve been getting that advice for years, but then I looked down and saw that you had to step down to get into the restaurant. We apologized for showing up at closing time, but our server, who turned out to be the owner, was gracious. I asked for advice and Phyllis Kull said that she sells about 500 of their “Nothing Like It Chicken” a week, so it must be good.

The menu described it as “Chicken salad, cranberry, smoked Gouda cheese and Granny Smith apples slices, served on Texas toast.” All of that, plus a side (some great potato salad) for six bucks. My foodie friend, Jan Norris would have taken a photo of the plate, but I had more important things in mind – finishing it off so I could have some strawberry pie. Mother had a bacon quiche (hold the bacon) with toast and a generous serving of fresh fruit. They forgot to hold the bacon, but it was served on top, so I got it and pronounced it excellent.

I apologize to Phyllis for sticking her outside where the lighting was so harsh. She’s much more attractive than the picture would lead you to believe.

Mural done by local artist

The inside of the cafe is attractive, without being cutesy. The mural, a work in progress, is being done by a local artist. Phyllis is from Colorado. Her husband, Alan, has family in the area, so they wanted to move closer to them. They opened the place March 16, 2010, and have been doing well. “Dexter is a great community. We’ve been blessed.” One of the customers when we walked in was the mayor, she said.

I normally avoid sweet tea, but they had it just right. After being out in the hot sun, I downed three glasses of it. I told Phyllis that I had been shooting in a church in New Madrid Sunday when it was equally as hot. “When the preacher started talking about hell, fire and brimstone,” I said, “I jumped to my feet and shouted, ‘Thank you, Jesus, for bringing us some relief.’ At first I thought I might not have that testifying thing figured out exactly right, but an old man in the back row hollered, ‘AMEN,’ so I guess I did OK.”

Mother, who normally takes everything with a grain of salt, looked at me in horror and said, “You DIDN’T?” For once, I couldn’t milk it for all it was worth. I had to tell her I was kidding.

How was the pie?

I ordered the strawberry and Mother had the blackberry. They used fresh fruit, but the filling was a Jello-style that I’m not really fond of. It was good, but not my favorite. Of the two, I liked the blackberry better. The actual, non-Madeline-style address is 5 South Locust, Dexter, Mo.

I’m not sorry the steak house was closed. This place is a great find: good food in good quantities, served by some nice people. I sure wish they were in Cape and West Palm Beach.

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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.

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How to Shoot Fireworks

It’s either the 4th of July or Cape is being invaded. The economy might be shaky, but you wouldn’t know it by the amount of money being blasted into the sky all around us.

I spent most of Monday in Cairo with a production company that is doing a documentary on the town. They had seen my photos of Cairo, wanted to use some of them and wanted to interview me roaming around town shooting more pictures. Nice folks. I’ll post some stuff later, but I don’t have time to do it tonight. This is the last Fourth of July photo I’m going to run until next year, I promise.

Photo tips for shooting fireworks

My fancy Nikon strobe needed new batteries and I was too lazy to go in the house to get new ones, so I put the Nikon  D40 in full auto mode so it would use its built-in flash for this photo. The little flash did a pretty good job of lighting Mother. The color balance isn’t bad and the short blast of light stopped the action and produced a reasonably sharp photo.

DULL and sharp

And, that’s the problem. It’s DULL and sharp.

The photo at the top of page is technically flawed because I wasn’t using a flash that offered more controls, but it’s a good start. Here’s how I shot it and why.

  • I turned the dial from Full Auto to a Shutter Priority. I wanted the shutter to stay open for a longer time so it would capture the sparks, flames and streaks made while she was waving the No. 36 Morning Glory around in the air.
  • I set the shutter for five seconds. That was long enough to record the light trails, but not so long that Mother would go too blurry, so long as I
  • Allowed the flash to go off as soon as the shutter opened. That provided the light to illuminate her and it “froze” most of her movement. The Morning Glories gave enough light that you can see some slight ghosting around her hands.
  • I dropped the color saturation just a bit to take some of the redness out. With a little more work in Photoshop, the color balance could have been improved, but it’s been a long day with lots of walking in either rain or a under a hot sun..

She SAID it was an accident

I was standing in the front yard wearing a pair of sandals when Mother gave her Morning Glory a particularly vigorous shake, more like a whip. The flaming, sparking, cracking tip went flying off, aimed directly at my bare toes. Only quick reflexes and dance steps I never did before saved me from having toasty toes and a trip to the emergency room.

She says it was an accident, but I’m wondering if that’s not a subtle hint that it’s time for me to think about heading back to Florida.

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