Cape Girardeau History and Photos » Broadway

Colonial Restaurant Crash

Ken Steinhoff — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 03:49:48 +0000

Some photos are more interesting because of the background than the subject. I noticed the Colonial Restaurant in these photos of a crash at Kingshighway and Broadway. I always think of the establishment as being the Colonial TAVERN, but the name must have changed sometime toward the end of the 1950s, based on newspaper stories.

Sports car plows into building

I couldn’t find any newspaper stories about the wreck, nor do I know when the pictures were taken. The car doesn’t look like it sustained much damage. It doesn’t have the typical dimples in the windshield caused by an unbelted driver.

Cape police and a state trooper

I count at least six police officers and a State Trooper working the wreck. It must have been a slow, if cold, night

One of the first lessons I learned as a news photographer that everything goes smoothly until you get one more cop on the scene than they need to work the incident. He looks around and decides that his job is to hassle the photographer. These guys must not have hit that point, because I don’t remember any conflicts.

Colonial Restaurant being remodeled

It looks like the building was being remodeled. There’s fresh lumber and framing visible, and the car knocked down one of the temporary supports.

In 1936, Albert Haman and Harley Estes spoke in favor of incorporating an area west of the city limits, as the first step in bringing the area into the Cape Girardeau city limits. Haman owned a restaurant at the intersection of Cape Rock Dr. and Highway 61. Estes represented the Simpson Oil Co., which owns the Colonial Tavern. There are five gasoline stations in the area, but no schools or churches.

Missourian advocates expanding city

A Missourian editorial in 1946 advocated extending the city limits to take in the entire stretch of Hwy 61 to enable the city to zone the property and “thus prevent it from becoming covered with undesirable structures….Pigpens and beer joints … have long infested the Alvarado-Colonial Tavern intersection…. Unless this is done Hwy 61 from the southern city limits to the northern limits may be expected to become a hodgepodge of shacks and dumps…”

Coroner Don Kremer

Coroner Don Kremer is the fellow next to the car. In addition to being the coroner, he was also a commercial photographer who made a sideline of shooting wrecks for insurance companies, so his presence doesn’t necessarily mean this was a fatality.

Kremer made the news himself in 1970, when he gunned down a young woman, then committed suicide by driving into a bridge abutment at high speed. (If you follow the link, you’ll have to zoom out and turn your head sideways to read the story. Google has the microfilm rotated to the left.) Investigators say that tire tracks indicated that he aimed his car so that the driver’s side would take the brunt of the impact.

Kremer’s wife said that he had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and had been given two months to live.

1967 Cape Student Protest

Ken Steinhoff — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 02:33:01 +0000

Southeast Missouri State College wasn’t exactly a hotbed of political activism when I was there. You didn’t often see students carrying protest signs, particularly on Broadway.

I imagine Editor John Blue looked out his office window on the second floor of The Missourian, saw these young hooligans walking with picket signs in front of the Petit N’ Orleans restaurant, and immediately dispatched his Campus Correspondent (Yours Truly) to find out what the firebrands were up to.

Pickets: N’ Orleans not fair

Despite my riveting art, The Missourian didn’t run any photos. The story of the N’ Orleans Protest ran on Page 3 of the April 8, 1967, paper, below the fold with a one-column headline:

Pickets Claim

N’ Orleans Not

Fair to Some

The story said that “at one time, eight persons marched with signs bearing such slogans as ‘Students Have Rights,’ and ‘Faculty, Support Your Students.’

“However, the number in the line was reduced to three after a Cape Girardeau police officer arrived and talked to the picketers. He explained that more than three pickets constitutes unlawful assembly.”

Owner alleges students were unshaven

“Richard H. Barnhouse, proprietor of the restaurant, said that some students had been refused service because they were not properly dressed and were unshaven.

“The students who marched in the picket line Friday, though, were nearly dressed with coats and ties and were clean shaven.”

I don’t know if it’ll reproduce on the screen, but one of the signs read, “I’m a Veteran and twenty-four. Because I’m a Student, You shut the door.”

N’ Orleans in 2009

The restaurant was involved in some sort of controversy and was closed, I think, when I shot it in the fall of 2009. I didn’t pay much attention, because it wasn’t one of my hangouts. I don’t recall ever eating there.

Annie Laurie’s Laurie Ann

Ken Steinhoff — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 15:59:05 +0000

Laurie Everett, owner of Annie Laurie’s Antiques is an extraordinary young woman. I’d say that even if she wasn’t my wife’s niece. We’ve known her since she was a hatchling called Laurie Ann, because the Perry Family decided that one name wasn’t enough. (I’m not going to tell you Lila’s middle name.) I wrote about Annie Laurie’s and some other antique shops on my bike blog in 2008.

Laurie’s third from the left

It was family tradition for Lila to shoot what she called The Picture of Florida sons Matt and Adam with of all the Cape nieces and nephews when we came to town. Laurie’s third from the left and Matt and Adam are to the right of her.

Laurie’s dad, John Perry, taught her to be able to handle herself. There’s a photo around somewhere of her and John with their heads buried under the hood of a jeep fixing it. He taught her how to shoot, which led her to qualify as an Expert when she joined the army.

Family has always been important to Laurie. It wasn’t always about hunting, twisting a wrench and getting her hands greasy. She and her dad shared this tender moment one day. (I’ve been told that no feet were harmed in the making of this photograph.)

Military was “a family thing”

She graduated from Cape Central High School in 1996, after attending Alma Schrader Elementary School. She graduated from SEMO, then decided she wanted to join the Army for the educational benefits, the experience and because “it was a family thing.” Her dad had served in Vietnam.

Laurie was a Military Police officer in the Army. She was stationed in Kitzingen, Germany, but she either visited or was deployed in France, Spain, Italy, Czech Republic, Romania, Israel, Bosnia, Croatia, Greece and Switzerland, among others. Her location in Germany put her within about six hours of most of Europe’s major historical landmarks.

While stationed in Germany, she received her Master’s Degree in Human Relations from, get this, the University of Oklahoma, which had an outreach program there.

“I’m going to date that girl”

One of her jobs was processing new troops, explaining the local customs and making them aware of what they needed to know. One soldier, Rocky Everett, commented to his buddy, “I’m going to date that girl one day.”

Rocky and Laurie were married in Cape on a cold October night in 2003. They have one son, Fletcher, AKA Flea.

“I was ready to settle down”

After she got out of the Army, she said, “I was ready to settle down, and this was a good community. I always liked antiques, so I started to work at Annie Laurie’s.”

When the owner, Mary Robertson, decided to sell the business, Rocky and Laurie jumped at the chance to buy the place. “One stipulation I made to Rocky was that if we were going to do this, we were going to live upstairs.” And, they do.

Antique shop had been funeral home

Long-time Cape residents will remember the antique shop as having been the former Brinkopf-Howell Funeral Home. “Do people ever ask you if the place is haunted?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “I just tell them that everybody who came here was dead already, so they don’t need to haunt the place.”

Ranked #1 Antique Store in Cape County 3 years running

Annie Laurie’s has been ranked the Number One antique shop in Cape Girardeau County three out of the last three years.

Laurie’s motto, “Expect the Unexpected,” is one of the reasons the shop has been so successful. She’s constantly changing displays (including the mannequin above, which shows up all over the place dressed in outlandish outfits) to make the place interesting.

Annie Laurie’s for period clothing and costumes

Laurie, who is an adjunct professor at SEMO, teaching marketing, works hard to attract college students with her selection of period costumes and funky clothing. Gail, above, made a convincing witch at Halloween.

Need a wig?

Laurie models the wig she wore for Halloween.

Using the Internet for marketing

Unlike many businesses in Cape, Laurie understands that the Internet can bring in new customers. “You’d be surprised how many of our customers find us through Google,” she explained.

Photographer Michelle Huesen is photographing SEMO coed Rachel Hendrickson in an outfit from Annie Laurie’s for use in promotional material. Laurie’s also active in Old Town Cape and the Cape Convention and Visitors Bureau and other organizations.

You can visit Laurie’s website here. Here’s a link to the shop’s Facebook page.

People feel at home at Annie Laurie’s

“We create an atmosphere where people feel at home. We have coffee and cookies around. We remember our customers’ names and what they like,” she said. She’s started taking digital photos of customers and posting them on her Facebook page.

American Gothic style

Here was her Facebook comment under this photo: “Lovin’ old men in overalls. This cutie blushed a bit when I asked him if I could take his picture. I just wanted to squeeze his cheeks.“

Recognized by Southern Living Magazine

Annie Laurie’s Antiques was featured as “a definite stop” in Southern Living Magazine’s Southern Antique Shops.

Laurie was written up in The Southeast Missourian’s 40 Under 40 column April 3, 2009.

Brian Blackwell interviewed her Sept. 28, 2009. He quoted her as saying, “You name it and I have done it. Snow cones, tanning salons, hostess, juvenile detention worker, internship at local police department, soldier, nonprofit organizer, veterinary assistant, office manager, university instructor [and] business owner, just to name a few.”

Annie Laurie’s Antiques Photo Gallery

Here are a selection of photos of Laurie and some of the things in her shop. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the photo to move through the gallery.

H&H Building, Draft Board and Dentist

Ken Steinhoff — Fri, 16 Jul 2010 06:15:35 +0000

I don’t have a whole lot of pleasant memories of the Himmelberger & Harrison Building – better known to natives as the H & H Building.

When I was about six, I needed to have a cavity filled. It was my first visit to a dentist’s office. I don’t remember the dentist’s name nor exactly where his office was in the H & H Building. What I do know is that he wasn’t anything like the dentists we go to these days with their high-speed, water-cooled drills, their pain blockers and soothing music.

This guy, I swear, used a drill that had to have been foot-powered like an old-fashioned treadle sewing machine. It wasn’t a drill so much as a jackhammer.

To this day I am dental-phobic. I’m so rigid, that the only thing that touches the chair is the back of my head and my heels. I even tense up in a barber chair because it reminds me of the ordeal.

A visit to the Cape Convention & Visitors Bureau

While I was in town this spring, I stopped by the H & H Building to see if the Cape Convention & Visitors Bureau would be interested in buying an ad on CapeCentralHigh. What would be a better fit than a blog getting Boomers all excited about coming back to Cape for high school reunions?

It was a very nice visit, but I walked out empty-handed. Well, truth be told, I came out worse than empty-handed. I offered to run a free ad for the Story-Telling Festival to show how well we could drive traffic to their site and I bought a T-shirt from them.

South East Missouri Trust Co

While wandering around their office, I spotted a cool old safe in the corner left over from when the office was the South East Missouri Trust Co. That’s the third safe I’ve discovered in Cape left over from the 20s and 30s.

Yale Time Lock was cleaned and guaranteed

This one still had stickers dating back to pre-Depression days guaranteeing the Yale Time Lock had been properly cleaned and serviced.

After I left the office, I shot a few more pictures of the lobby area.

Staircase led to the Draft Board

I remember that staircase. I walked up it to register with the Draft Board when I turned 18. I didn’t get off to a good start with Draft Clerk Miss Lolla B. Gilbert. I guess I should back up to explain that I have lousy handwriting. Despite my Dad’s best efforts, my cursive was illegible. I got in the habit of printing anything I wanted to read, and even that was a struggle to decipher.

When I had finished filling out part of the paperwork, Miss Gilbert grabbed it and said in an offended tone, “You PRINTED. You were supposed to sign.”

Not wanting to make her any more distressed, I picked up the form and scrawled my signature.

Even more offended now, she said, “I can’t read that.”

“Mam, that’s why I printed it.”

“You didn’t list any scars”

I won’t say she was exactly mollified, but she didn’t say anything else until she got down to the bottom of the form. “You didn’t list any distinguishing marks or scars.”

I guess I had a lucky childhood, because I had escaped any disfiguring injures, so far as I could recall. The silence grew between us.

Finally, inspiration struck. “I cut my finger once,” I said hopefully.

“Where? Show me.”

The mailbox where she mailed the letter

And then, as I curled the middle finger of my left hand to show her the cut, I hoped that she would take the gesture in the spirit in which it was intended.

I’ve often wondered if Miss Gilbert had an evil grin on her face when she sent me the letter to report for the draft physical that would have given me an all-expense-paid vacation to beautiful Southeast Asia, had I not come in Number 258 in the 1969 Draft Lottery.

Historical side note: The Southeast Missourian ran a story about the two 19-year-olds who were at the ends of the spectrum when birthdates were drawn in the Dec. 1, 1969, Draft Lottery. Gary Wayne Hurt, 1030 West Cape Rock Dr., was born April 24, the second date selected in the lottery.

Lonnie Lee Brockmire, 1826 Woodlawn, celebrates his birthday on Feb. 26, the second to last date drawn. If you’d like to look up what your Draft Lottery number was, follow this link to the list in The Missourian.

If you’d like to see what the H & H Building looked like in 1966, it shows up in the background of a fender-bender in this post.

Photo Gallery from H & H Building

Here are some additional photos from the H & H Building. Click on any picture to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.

Rialto Theater Roof Collapses

Ken Steinhoff — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 23:27:18 +0000

Wife Lila was having breakfast this morning with a gaggle of her 1966 classmates when Bill East casually mentioned that he had heard that the roof of the Rialto Theater had collapsed. (She’s the one on the left in this 1966 Girardot ad, by the way.)

I had a hard time believing that because I had been inside the place in March. I was in the Old Town Cape offices trying to convince them that CapeCentralHigh.com would be a great place for them to advertise (they said they were non-profit. I said I was worse than non-profit. I was losing money, but that’s another story).

The Rialto holds special memories for me

I mentioned to Toni Eftink that the building next to their office, the old Rialto theater, had special meaning for me, because that’s where I met my future wife. (You can read the whole story by following this link. It involves Jim Stone, a coin flip and the world’s worst movie.)

Because Jim Stone was dating Carol Klarsfeld, whose mother owned the theater, we had the run of the place. Jim loved popping the popcorn (which had real butter in those days, by the way) and we got to watch the projectionist swap reels on the fly.

First a bell would ring signaling it was getting close to the end of the reel (not every projectionist stayed awake during the whole movie). Then there would be an almost imperceptible flash on the screen. When you saw a second flash, you started the second reel running, stopped the first reel and turned off the carbon arc that shined through the film.

Seats got carted out

Toni said I should have been there last week, when they were carting out the old theater seats because they had gotten wet and moldy when a sump pump leaked.

I talked my way into the building. It was pitch black. The only light I had was a small pocket flashlight that kept me from tripping over anything. I pointed my camera into the darkness and let flash. I didn’t have a clue what I had taken a picture of until I got back home. That’s why there are some crazy angles in the photos.

Looking back toward the projection booth, lobby entrance and bathrooms

The place was pretty much gutted. The projectors had long been removed, but you could still see where the concession stand had been.

Decorative mirrors still there

Walking toward the theater, you passed a mirrored wall, then had a choice of the left or right side of the seating.

The outside of the Rialto looks nice

The exterior of the building looks as nice today as it did in this photo shot in October 2009. I drove completely around the building looking for any evidence of damage, but didn’t see any.

Just before I dismissed the tip as some kind of Bill East caffeine-induced fantasy, I decided to check the buildings on either side of the old theater. The Old Town Cape folks were out doing whatever Old Town Cape folks do, because their offices were dark and locked.

The sky (or roof) IS falling

I walked into the business on the other side and asked for the Person in Charge of Rumor Control to quash a rumor that the roof of the Rialto had collapsed.

The rumor – apologies to Bill for doubting him – was true. I asked if there was any way I could get a photo of it. Nice Rumor Control Lady said the only way to see it was to go upstairs and stand on her desk.

I did.

Blame it on a storm

The roof collapsed around 1 p.m. on June 17, possibly as a result of a storm with high winds and heavy rain. No one was injured and the adjacent buildings weren’t damaged.

Lots of palm sweat in that place

Now that I think back on it, not only did I meet my future wife at the Rialto, I think my first real high school date took place in the theater. I’ll have to check with Shari Stiver to confirm that. (I’m sure it was less memorable for her than it was to me.)

If every other adolescent male was like I was, it’s no wonder why the sump pump failed after all these years. It must have pumped a Mississippi River of palm sweat from nervous high school boys.

Gallery of photos

Here’s a collection of photos over the years. Click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left of right side of the photo to move through the gallery. I’d have written more, but I’m already an hour and 13 minutes late to the class reunion.

Homecoming parade passed in front of the Rialto

You can see the front of the Rialto in its heyday in these photos of the 1964 SEMO Homecoming Parade.

1964 SEMO Homecoming Parade

Ken Steinhoff — Tue, 25 May 2010 03:12:53 +0000

This is a collection of photos from the 1964 Southeast Missouri State College Homecoming Parade.

Bands from a lot of local schools, Including Central marched in it. Since it was a presidential election year, there are several political floats.

NOBODY could step out like Ruth Ann Seabaugh

Ruth Ann Seabaugh, Toni Grose and (I think) Nancy Swan strut past the Rialto Theater.

Gallery of Homecoming Parade Photos

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

I just discovered more film from this parade. I think I have all of the Central students in this selection, so I’ll save the rest of the the pictures for another day.

Walther’s Becomes Discovery Playhouse

Ken Steinhoff — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 06:27:50 +0000

Volunteers were busy converting the old Walther’s Furniture Store and Funeral Home at 502 Broadway into the Discovery Playhouse when I was home earlier this spring. It opened April 22.

It looks like it’s going to be a great place for kids to cool off during Cape’s hot and humid summer.

Playhouse starting on the ground floor

The Playhouse is a two-story building, with an attached section that rises to three floors. All of the work is concentrating on the first floor at this time, with the other floors to be developed as funds become available.

Landmark sign to stay

I was told that the landmark Walther’s sign will remain, although it will be changed somewhat. I don’t know what those changes are.

The old parts of the building and the views from the windows fascinated me more than the playhouse in progress.

1916 was a big year

A Missourian roundup on Dec. 31, 1916, said that “1916 is prominent for the number of fine business houses erected, among them being the new home of the Buckner-Ragsdale, ‘Quality Corner Store,’ a handsome structure, the upper floor of which is occupied by the Cape Girardeau Business College; Walther Brothers Furniture Store, one of the largest in Missouri outside the three largest cities; the I. Ben Miller ice cream and candy factory, declared by State Dairy Commissioner Bennett to be the finest in the State of Missouri; the Meyer-Suedekum Hardware Company’s building and others.”

That’s a lot of landmark businesses in year. Meyer-Suedekum (now Meyer Supply) is the only one that has survived.

501-503 Broadway

Looking to the south from the second floor of the building, you can see 501 and 503 Broadway across the street. Hinchey-Greer Merchantile company occupied 501 Broadway around 1906. Alvin Cotner modified the building in 1919 or 1920 to house the Auto Parts Company, which was there until 1957. Cape Paint and Glass occupied the property from 1958 through 1991. An interior connection between the two buildings was made somewhere between 1908 and 1915.

Mural sponsored by Trinity Lutheran Church

A mural, sponsored by Trinity Lutheran Church is on the west wall of 503 Broadway. It reads, “Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not turn from it.” That’s probably fitting to be across from the Discovery Playhouse.

It’s easy to get lost in old newspaper stories

While researching the Walther’s history, I got sidetracked with stories of the 1918 Influenza Epidemic and accounts of local boys going “over there” to fight the “huns.” One thing that surprised me on the front page of the May 13, 1921 Missourian, was a pair of obituaries.

The first was three paragraphs giving an account of the funeral of Allbright Walther, retired furniture dealer of Cape Girardeau. It contained very little personal information.

Directly under it, was one headlined, “Sam Randol, Ice Dealer Is Dead; Long Illness Fatal to Colored Man.” It went on to say that “Sam Randol, well-known colored ice dealer, died at his home…following a long illness with dropsy. It listed his relatives and the organizations he belonged to and some funeral arrangements.

It concluded by saying that “Randol was among the better colored citizens of Cape Girardeau and stood high both among the people of his race as well as among the white citizens. He had been in the ice business here since a young man and was known by most every family in the city.”

I would never have expected the second obit to have been given such prominence in that era. He must have really been an exceptional person.

Walther’s was the city’s oldest retail store

A business column announcing the closing of the furniture store in 1984 said it had been open continuously for 120 years, making it the oldest retail business in town.

Gallery of photos from Walther’s Furniture / Discovery Playhouse

Here is a selection of photos taken of the Discovery Playhouse renovation and views of the neighborhood. As always, click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the photo to move through the gallery.

School Board Moves Safe

Ken Steinhoff — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 19:26:19 +0000

Virtual friend and photo colleague Fred Lynch ran a Frony picture of the Erlbacher building at 1105 Broadway in his Missourian blog this morning. I encourage you to follow the link to f/8 and Be There. It’ll save me a bunch of typing.

I never knew the uniquely-shaped bookend buildings had a name, nor did I know the fascinating history of them until reading his piece.

You can read more about the buildings by downloading the National Register listing. It’s a huge file, so the best thing is to right-click on the link and chose Save Link As, then open it in Adobe Acrobat.

Cape School Board

What I DID recall was that I had taken a picture of a large safe being removed from the building when it ceased being used for the Cape Board of Education and Superintendent of Schools at the end of 1966.

Follow this link to see how the photo was played in The Missourian Dec. 13, 1966. The photo was used to illustrate a story about “Hopes for Early Bid on $775,000 School Bonds.”

One of the ironies was that some of the bond money was going to be used to renovate May Greene and Washington Schools, both of which have been abandoned by the system. Washington School was recently torn down.

Gallery of photos

Here’s a gallery of photos of the safe move on Dec. 12, 1966, plus some photos taken Oct. 28, 2009. The buildings look remarkably the same. I’m pretty sure the window treatments haven’t been changed in all those years.

Click on a picture to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the image to move through the gallery.

Cape Girardeau’s Art Deco Esquire Theater

Ken Steinhoff — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 18:27:18 +0000

Esquire Theater Oct. 28, 2009

Cape Girardeau’s Esquire Theater opened Jan. 21, 1947, to 1,300 customers in two showings. A block-long line of moviegoers were treated to a double feature of Blue Skies and Two Years Before the Mast at 6:15. A late crowd caught the 9 p.m. showing.

It was the third of Broadway’s theaters – the Rialto and the Broadway were the others – to open. Within 18 months of each other, all three were closed by 1985. The Esquire was the last to go dark.

There’s a lot of interesting reading in the National Register of Historic Places registration form filed in 2005. [This link takes you to a pdf file that may require a special plugin for your browser.]

Windstorms and a truck accident damaged the marquee

The city blocked off the sidewalk in front of the movie theater when the marquee was deemed unsafe. This photo was taken Oct. 24, 2007, before it was removed.

The Esquire gave its last first-run movie show – Prince’s Purple Rain on Oct. 7, 1984, with four shows – 2:00, 5:00, 7:15 and 9 p.m. Newspaper accounts of the day don’t say if that particular movie led to the theater’s demise. (It scored 7 Rotten Tomatoes on the Tomatometer.)

The Esquire experienced a brief revival on Mar. 22, 1985, when it opened as a second-run movie theater, charging $1.50 a head, but it closed again in December of that year. A church held services in the building for a time. It’s being used for storage today.

When it was built, the local newspaper said that it had more than a mile of neon lights, more than any other theater in the South. Sometimes boosterism collided with facts, so this may or may not have been exactly true.

Terrazzo tile extension still visible

The National Register application says the interior of the theater retains its original space configuration of lobby, foyer, auditorium, restrooms and projection room. Many of the original interior finishes, including the mosaic tile and painted designed walls in the auditorium remain. The original seating and screen have been removed.

The multiple-colored terrazzo floor of pink, gray, buff and green blocks in a geometric designs runs up to the red doors and into the lobby.

Curved glass blocks guide you into the entrance

The gently-curving glass blocks that guide you into the entrance of the of theater are a characteristic of the Art Deco style of architecture. Other Art Deco touches are the use of steel, marble, colored steel enameled panels and curved walls.

When construction started in 1946, the projected cost was $75,000. By the time it was finished, the total cost had doubled to $150,000. Gerhardt Construction Company of Cape was the general contractor. Preston Neon Sign Company installed the neon lighting.

Few homes had air conditioning in the Esquire’s heyday, so Cape Girardeans took refuge in the movie houses during scorching summers. A heating and air conditioning system installed in the basement was powerful enough do a complete air exchange in the theater every minute.

The 100′ x 60′ building used no lumber in its construction to make it as fire safe as possible.

Remember the fancy ticket dispenser?

When you finally made it up to the ticket window, you would speak to the cashier through a hole in her glass window, tell her (it was always a woman) how many tickets you wanted and for what ages. She would push some magic button (I don’t know if it was hand or foot-operated) and the requisite number of tickets would come shooting out of slots in the top of the counter.

The apparatus is still there, but it’s been heavily decorated with bird poop over the years.

Help! The Beatles movie played the Esquire in 1965

I wrote earlier about ordering special infrared film and flashbulbs to cover the teenybopper reaction to the Beatles movie Help! when it played at the Esquire in September 1965.

You can read the whole account at this link. Who knows? You may see yourself in the audience.

Did you ever try to sneak in through the fire exit door?

And, if you did, were you caught by one of the male ushers (they were always male) who prowled the aisle maintaining order. Hint: it was a Bad Idea to sneak in during a daytime movie. The blast of bright daylight was sort of noticeable in the darkened theater.

Do you miss those days when unruly patrons were shushed or ejected?

Did you work at the Esquire?

Were YOU an usher, cashier or concession stand worker? Based on the stories that Wife Lila tells from her days as a cashier at the Rialto, I bet you have an experience to share.

Here’s a gallery of Esquire photos

Click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the photo to step through the gallery.

Fender-Bender at Broadway and Fountain

Ken Steinhoff — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 13:44:07 +0000

Looking south toward the Idan-Ha Hotel

I’ve got a gazillion wreck pictures in my files, but I’m going to run only those that are of unusual vehicles, unusual circumstances or have interesting backgrounds. This fender-bender between a car and a taxicab at the corner of Broadway and Fountain in 1966 fits the criteria. I assume the two guys in the foreground were the drivers from their universal “Oh, Bleep” pose.

The old Idan-Ha Hotel is on the corner. I spent many a lunch hour in the coffee shop there when I was working at The Missourian.

Looking north toward the Marquette Hotel

The Marquette Hotel is on the right and the H&H Building is on the left.

Officer Fred Kaempfer directs traffic

I looked at the officer directing traffic and thought I had a shot of him from another occasion. Yep. It was a portrait of a guy with sort of a soulful look in his eyes. I remembered him as being one of the nicest guys who ever wore a uniform.

Wife Lila immediately recognized him from her days working at the Rialto Theater. The only problem was that we couldn’t think of his name to save ourselves.

Fortunately, we have house guests from Cape Girardeau staying with us. Lila’s sister, Marty Perry Riley (Class of 68) and her husband, Don Riley (class of 67) are in town for Marty to do a chalk drawing in the Lake Worth Street Painting festival this weekend. Son Adam’s company, DedicatedIT has brought her down the last three years to do the drawings. (It’s chilly down here this year, but it’s generally not hard to convince her to come to Florida in February with the kind of weather Cape’s been having.)

As soon as I showed them the photo, they both said, “Fred Kaempfer.” Don had been a Cape police officer himself.

What I didn’t know about Officer Kaempfer was that he was a song writer who came up with “Keep Walking On,” sung by Ken Roberts, in 1970. Fred died in 2004, at 80. His obituary fleshed out his life. He worked at Leming Sawmill for 25 years, was a Cape policeman from 1965 to 1973, and was a Scott City policeman from 1973 until he retired in 1978.

A letter to the editor in The Missourian after his death pointed out something else. Few know that during World War II Kaempfer fought in five major campaigns: Sicily, Central Europe, Normandy, Rhineland and the invasion of France, where he was awarded the Medal of Freedom.

View to the east shows First Federal Savings and The Southeast Missourian

It was a hot day in 1966, if the temperature sign on the First Federal Savings is correct – 88 degrees. This is quite a contrast with a Frony picture taken at the same intersection during a snow storm when the temperature was 28 degrees on the sign. You can see it in Fred Lynch’s Southeast Missourian blog.

Notice the phone number on the side of the cab: ED. 5-4433. ED stood for Edgewater. Jackson was the Circle exchange.

You can see The Missourian Building and the Royal N’Orleans, but the KFVS tower hasn’t been built yet.

The Idan-Ha is gone

The Idan-Ha Hotel caught fire a couple of times and was torn down. Here’s what it looked like on Oct. 24, 2009.

The Marquette Hotel escaped the wrecking ball

The future of the Marquette Hotel was very much in doubt for many years, but it looks like it’s taken on a new life. The canopies over the doors were more interesting when the building was a hotel, but, overall, the building looks better than it has in decades.

Note the KFVS TV building sticking high up into the sky.