Cape Central High Photos and History

Wimpy’s Intersection in 1966

My friend, Fred Lynch, Southeast Missourian photographer, had a picture of the original Wimpy’s building taken in the 1940s in his blog.

I spent some time at the second iteration of Wimpy’s, when it moved across the street to the corner of Cape Rock Drive and Kingshighway. I went into the store a lot of times as a kid, but it wasn’t a normal teenage hangout of mine. I think I was more of a Pfister’s kind of guy.

I took the time exposure above sometime during the summer of 1966. I don’t know if I shot it for a story or if it was just a finger exercise to practice shooting night photos. The headlights and taillights of cars left the light streaks.

Busy intersection for wrecks

I have pictures where Wimpy’s was the backdrop for one of the many crashes that occurred at the busy intersection before traffic signals were installed. My Dad’s construction company had the project to widen that section of Kingshighway. The state created room for the turn lanes by turning the shoulder into travel lanes, something he thought was a mistake. He thought they should have widened the road, but you build to the specs, not to what you think is right.

This picture from 1967 appears to be some kind of minor motorcycle accident.

Wimpy’s was gone in 2009

I took this time exposure Oct. 13, 2009. Wimpy’s has been replaced by a bank, which is closed and for sale. Traffic lights make the intersection safer, but there are a lot fewer cars to control at night after the demise of Wimpy’s.

A trip to St. Louis or Memphis took all day

If you’re a Post-Boomer, you probably don’t know going to St. Louis or Memphis was an all-day affair before Interstate 55 was built. It was such a big deal that The Missourian routinely ran briefs that said, “Mr. and Mrs. John Jones, 1618 Somewhere St., journeyed to St. Louis for shopping and to see relatives.”

It wasn’t until the late 60s that the paper established the policy that a mere trip to those two cities didn’t warrant coverage unless actual news was committed.

I had forgotten how recently I-55 was constructed, until I saw the aerial photo above tacked on the end of the roll that had the Bald Knob Cross shots on it. That would have put it roughly in 1964. (Also on the roll are some shots of downtown Cape before the KFVS building was built. They’re coming in the next few days.)

It took me a little head-scratching to figure out where the photo was taken. My first guess was Route K near the mall, but there are no railroad tracks out there. Then, I remembered some overpasses over tracks in the Chaffee area, but there’s no Interstate there.

It was the Scott City Interchange

Finally, I pulled up Google Earth and started searching for railroad tracks near an interchange with a highway overpass nearby. I also figured that it was probably near the Cape Airport where Ernie Chiles and I would have taken off. Bingo. That was it. The giveaway turned out to be what I assume to be a train station just east of the ramp area.

Highway 61 is the overpass on the left

The overpass to the left of the interchange carried traffic north over the Diversion Channel to Cape and south to Benton. The road that parallels the railroad track is Main Street leading into Scott City.

The equipment used to build the Interstate was a little more modern than the steam roller my Dad used to pave Rt. 25 going into Advance in 1941.

Here’s a map showing the Scott City Interchange as it looks today

View Scott City Interchange in a larger map

There was a story in The Southeast Missourian that plans are in place to finish restoration of the Bald Knob Cross. I’d be more excited if I hadn’t heard that for years.

Still, the story jogged my memory that I had shot some aerials and ground shots of the Cross in the late 60s. I was pleased to see that the shot from the air was better than I had remembered. Parts of the film had deteriorated over the years, so my selection of pictures was limited.

Cross stands 111 feet tall, 1,000 feet above sea level

Cross project conceived in 1937

The project was spearheaded by Wayman Presley, who found 116 individuals who raised enough money between 1948 to 1951 to buy the land atop Bald Knob Hill. The foundation was poured in 1953. You can read more at the Bald Knob Cross web site.

Selling pigs raised $30,000

Financial shortfalls have been the one constant throughout the history of the Cross. The Bald Knob web site says that Presley quit his job with the Post Office to throw himself into fund raising. An appearance on This Is Your Life helped, but money was still tight.

A challenge to supporters to raise pigs, sell them and turn the profits over to the cross raised $30,000.

The Cross was completed in 1963

The formal groundbreaking ceremony was held in 1953. The bare metal framework of the Cross stood for several years until there was enough money to cover the superstructure with 900 heavy steel panels with a bright white veneer.

The Cross web site said that 40,000 watts of lighting made the structure visible for 7,500 square miles.

The symbol of peace became a source of conflict

The Cross was supposed to be an interdenominational symbol of peace, but internal conflicts were growing at the same time as the structure was deteriorating.  The disputes became so serious by 2006 the courts stepped in and locked down the properties until everything could be sorted out.

Agreement was reached in 2008

From the web site:

In the summer of 2008 a settlement that was supported by both sides of the conflict began taking shape. In the agreement, all current board members would step down and the court would appoint a temporary transitional board comprised of mostly religious leaders in Southern Illinois. The final legal settlement became official on Christmas Eve 2008. The seven member transitional board met in the middle of January 2009 for the first time. Since that time, the board has been extremely busy. In addition to the obvious challenge of the physical restoration of the Cross, the organizational structure, fiscal policies and procedures, and program development aspects of Bald Knob have been addressed. Physical restoration of the Cross has already begun.

Location of Bald Knob Cross near Alto Pass, IL

View Bald Knob Cross of Peace in a larger map

Here’s another “cross” picture

Wife Lila, who was looking over the page before I published it, remarked that the Bald Knob Cross reminded her of a photo I had taken of an abandoned strip mine in Southeastern Ohio in 1969. A power pole caught the late afternoon light just right to look like a cross. The picture ran almost full page in The Athens Messenger on the first Earth Day. It’s always been one of my favorite pictures.

Here’s the background story.

She was right. (Of course, that’s always the case. It goes without saying, but she like to hear me say it anyway.) I’ll let you decide.

Ware Cemetery

My mother and I were coming back from one of my many visits to Wib’s BBQ when the light at the Fruitland Intersection caught us. Mother looked out her side and said, “Wonder what those markers are?”

You have to understand that’s really Mother-speak for, “pull the car over, hop out in the cold wind, take a look and bring back a full report.” After 60+ years, I’ve become pretty fluent in Mother-speak. (Well, sometimes. If it involves plumbing, I pretend not to hear.)

There’s not much to see at Exit #105

When I don’t know where else to turn, I fire up the Google News Archives of The Southeast Missourian’s microfiche records. The May 24, 2000, Letters to the Editor filled in some details.

The writer said that a small cemetery was razed to make the southbound entrance ramp to I-55 (the one we were stopped at). It’s hard to believe, but the letter said the tombstones were discarded.

Ware Cemetery contains the remains of at least 15 people, including Col. Christopher Hays, a Revolutionary War soldier who served with General George Washington. Col. Hays was also a member of the panel of judges who laid out the city of Cape Girardeau.

It’s Ernie Chiles’ wife

When I got down to the bottom of the letter, I was surprised to see that it was signed by Mrs. Ernest (Patty) Chiles, the wife of my old Central High School Earth Science teacher, Ernie Chiles. (He wasn’t an “old” Earth Science teacher when I had him in school. He wasn’t but a handful of years older than I was at the time. Maybe I should refer to him as my “former” Earth Science teacher.)

If you haven’t been reading this blog for very long, you probably missed my account of Ernie and the Rock of the Month Club. And, here’s what the new, old Ernie looks like.

Google Map showing Ware Cemetery

View Monument for Ware Cemetery in a larger map

I went to a funeral for Dave Moreland this morning.

It was in West Palm Beach, not Cape Girardeau, but there’s a reason I’m writing about it in connection with these pictures from Cape.

Dave owned Dave’s Texaco (Southend Texaco) for 24 years and had worked there since he was 16. He died of cancer, Jan. 25, at age 57. The station was within a few blocks of our home and we’ve been dealing with Dave and his family almost as long as we’ve been in Florida.

Over a hundred friends were seated for the service, and more than 100 others spilled out into a standing-room only lobby where we wished we’d had some of those old-fashioned funeral home fans to beat off the heat.

Dr. Willam Stepp, a minister who hailed from a small town in Mississippi, spoke of Dave as a customer, friend and fishing buddy. I’ve been to too many services where the officiant could barely pronounce the name of the guest of honor. This was certainly not one of those cases.

“Dave’s wasn’t a service station, it was an institution”

Dr. Stepp told story after story of how Dave lived his philosophy that it wasn’t a car he was serving, it was the PERSON in the car. He would realize that an elderly customer hadn’t been into the store recently and would send someone to check on them. “Dave was a hard-working, honest-to-the-core, get-it-done kind of guy.”

Framed collages of photos of friends and family filled the funeral home lobby. In every one of them and in a video that was shown as part of the service, there was a red-headed guy wearing an infectious grin that just had to make you feel good.

Lila and I and hundreds of his customers are going to miss Dave.

Back before gas stations, there were SERVICE stations

I like this picture from Cape Girardeau because it brings back memories of when service stations actually provided service. You didn’t just pull up at a pump, stick in a credit card, pump your gas yourself and drive off without ever seeing a human being.

You’d pull into a service station and as soon as your tires ran over a rubber hose sensor that rang a bell, one or more – sometimes uniformed – gas station attendants would come running 0ut. They’d check your tire pressure, pop your hood to check fluid levels and pump your gas. In some cases, like this one, someone would actually vacuum your car.

On top of that, your fill-up could earn you prizes and premiums. In a cabinet in my Mother’s kitchen are some colored aluminum tumblers that came from a service station. They were great for iced tea; the condensation running down their sides always made the drink SEEM colder.

George W. Eaker, Sr., at Brune & Eaker Phillips 66 Station

Like so many of my pictures, I had no clue who the attendant was, when it was taken or where. I DID notice in the background a sign that said that BRUNE & EA??R were the owners, so I reached out for Brad Brune. He put me in touch with George Eaker, Jr, who filled in most of the gaps with this message:

I have a mother who confirmed the information in this letter. Her name is Lora Lee Eaker, the wife of the late George W, Eaker Sr..

My mother is a tender 92 years old. My mother’s mental faculties have not diminished any with age.

I personally remember the day you took the photographs of my father as I was at the service station while you photographed my father. The photographs where taken at my father’s place of business, Brune and Eaker, 915 North Main in Cape Girardeau, MO. You took the photographs sometime in the spring of 1959. [Editor's note: it couldn't have been in 1959, I was only 12 then. It had to have been taken some time between 1963 and 1968.]

The reason for you taking the photographs of my father was to publicize the fact that my father had received an award from Phillips Petroleum Company (Phillips 66), for performing services to the mystery motorist.

The Mystery Motorist

The mystery motorist would be a customer that came in to a service station unannounced. The service station attendant had to follow the standards established by Phillips Petroleum for excellent customer service. The mystery motorist would always be a person unknown to the service station personnel. This unknown motorist was normally a traveling salesman who would be passing through the area on business.

The customer service program established by Phillips Petroleum included a greeting to the customer that included a suggestion to purchase Flight Fuel, the premium grade of gasoline sold at Phillip 66 service stations.

While dad was fueling the customer’s automobile, he was expected to clean all of the windows on the vehicle. Then he would check under the hood for the level of oil in the crankcase and the condition of key engine elements while the hood was open. The attendant then was expected to check the air in all of the customer’s vehicle tires.

Vacuum cleaners installed on fuel islands

Part of the promotion, that Phillips Petroleum instituted at their outlets, was to have their dealers install vacuum cleaners on the fuel islands of their service stations. My dad then vacuumed the front and rear of the customer’s car. Of course, after all this service, the attendant was expected to thank the customer for his business and invite them to visit our facility again.

After receiving all of the steps outlined by the Phillips Petroleum customer policy, the unknown motorist informed my father that he was the unknown motorist employed by Phillips Petroleum Company. Dad received a certificate of recognition from Phillips Petroleum and a monetary award of seventy five dollars. Seventy five dollars was a large monetary award in 1959.

Brune & Eaker opened in 1933

My father was in business with his partner, Louis (Louie) Brune, at 915 North Main Street from 1933 until Mr. Brune passed away in 1965. My dad remained in business until 1966 when he sold the business. In all the years that Mr. Brune and my father owned and operated their business, they were dealers for Phillips Petroleum Company.

Brune and Eaker Service Station was much more than a gasoline station. Normally Mr. Brune and my father worked daily at the station. The majority of the time there would be two to three mechanics employed that preformed all types of car repairs. Several young men worked the fuel islands, washed cars, changed tires and other light vehicle service.

Those who lived in the Red Star District remember that the Brune and Eaker service station was, in fact, two service stations. The original building was a small one-room building that had been added onto several times. After all of the construction, the building contained an additional two bays. One of the bays contained a hydraulic lift, plus there was a large outdoor hydraulic lift for trucks.

Main Street was moved, new station built

When the levee system was built in Cape Girardeau, Main Street was rerouted behind the original service station. A new service station had to be built to the rear of the original building. The new station contained a large office area and two new service bays, one with a hydraulic lift. A walkway connected the two building, resulting in a large work area.

The letter written by Brad Brune spoke of several other Eakers.

Orville (Peg) Eaker was the brother of my father, George Eaker Sr. Long-time residents of Cape Girardeau would remember Peg Eaker and his wife, Toots, as the owners of The Town Pump restaurant and bar on Main Street in downtown Cape. Jim Eaker was the son of Peg Eaker. Jim Eaker and his wife, Jean, ran the Town Pump for a short time.

The other Eaker mentioned in the letter was Eldon (Dib) Eaker. Dib was also a brother of George Sr. and Peg Eaker. Dib ran a business in Cape Girardeau for several years and was later employed by the city of Cape Girardeau for many years.

Marquette Natatorium 10/20/2009

When I was in Cape in Fall of 2009, I made a swing by the Marquette Natatorium down by the cement plant. Wife Lila was interested in seeing the place because she, Jacqie (Bill) Jackson (66) and Dan Beatty (67) worked there as swimming instructors and lifeguards in the late 1960s.

My wife’s niece, Laurie Evertt (of Annie Laurie’s Antiques), mentioned that the Natatorium was one her favorite places. She sent me an email the other week that she was afraid that they might be getting ready to tear it down because there was some kind of work going on there.

Marquette Natatorium 01/29/2010

Today she sent me an photo that makes it look like the building is being pressure-cleaned, maybe to be repainted. That’s not the kind of work you do if you’re going to bulldoze it. Laurie apologized, unnecessarily, for the quality of the picture: “I had Fletcher (her toddler son) screaming in the car, so I did a drive-by.”

Natatorium Historical Factoids

I think I swam in the pool only one time. Still, I’ve always had an interest in the place. A natatorium, by the way, is defined as a structurally separate building containing a swimming pool.

The Southeast Missourian is a treasure trove of little factoids.

• A city permit was issued to build the 70x 94-foot structure at a declared cost of $25,000 in 1937. It was to be located at the site of the former Marquette School Building. It was to be built of reinforced concrete, the roof would be concrete slab and the steam heating plant, wiring and plumbing would be included in the cost.
• The Natatorium, built for the use of cement plant employees, was placed in service Feb. 16, 1938.
• The July 14, 1938 Missourian proudly announced $330,362 in building construction for the year, including the following new buildings or expansions: St. Mary’s School,  Lorimier School, the Natatorium, a new addition to the Rueseler Motor Company, the Jewish Synagogue and an expansion of the Buckner-Ragsdale building.
• July 30, 1946: all swimming pools in Cape were temporarily closed until further notice and parents were urged to keep their children from swimming in ponds and creeks because of an outbreak of polio. Gerald Perry, 10, was taken to a St. Louis hospital after his left arm and shoulder were paralyzed. He was in a ward with two others. Twenty-seven youngsters were in a an isolation ward; three of them were in iron lungs.
• Apr. 3, 1968: Cape department of Recreation acquires Natatorium and plans to keep pool open year-round. Mrs. Wm. Shambo, who conducted swimming clinics on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, said water ballet, additional swimming classes and public swimming would be added to the program. Water temperatures were to be maintained at 85 degrees.
• Jan. 9, 1969: The city council ruled that the Natatorium would be open to Cape residents during the winter months again. It had been closed because of poor attendance. Only 200 swimmers used the pool in December, bringing in $72.50 in income; operating expenses are about $1,000 a month.

What is it used for today?

I couldn’t find any recent stories about what the building is being used for. At one time, I heard rumors that the pool had been floored over and the building was being used as housing for cement plant visitors. Later, I heard that it was being used for office space. I’d have to give more credence to the latter.

Anyone know the REAL answer? How many of you remember swimming in the Natatorium, either because your family worked at the cement plant or after the city took it over?