Advance Birthday Autographs

Mother was Facebooking six decades before we gave her an iPad. There’s a new Facebook fan page called Advance Hornet Alumni where all the buzz is about the upcoming high school reunion. Mother graduated with the Class of 1938, the group that named the Hornets, she says. Anyway, she pulled out a scrapbook I had never seen before.

It contained her Graduation Memories Book. You’ll be seeing bits and pieces of it from time to time.

Birthdays January to April

There was a section for Birthdays. I noticed that most of the handwriting was different. “Well, I was just downtown, and whenever I’d see anybody, I’d take down their birthday. Most of them wrote them themselves.” These pages read like a Who’s Who of Advance in the late 1930s. I recognize about a third of the names on these pages. It’s a real thrill to look up to see the signature of your grandfather, Roy E. Welch, [Feb] 6 – 1891, written in his own hand. I’ve seen that writing before and would recognize it anywhere. You can click on any page to make it larger. I scanned them a little bigger than usual if you want to look at the names.

Birthdays March to June

There are contemporaries of my mother, friends of her parents and the high and low of Advance society. Roy and Elsie Welch ran a variety of businesses in town: a hotel, a tavern and a liquor store, among them. Mother could put a head on a mug of beer when she was in her early teens and she managed to hoodwink the sheriff into not confiscating a slot machine full of money when they left her in charge when she was about 13. The businesses, plus living downtown, put her in contact with everyone.

Birthdays July through October

Elsie Welch shows up as Sept. 24, 1892. I recognize her handwriting from the scores of cards and notes she sent me over the years.

Birthdays September through December

I’ve never been much interested in collecting the autographs of famous people, but I have to admit to feeling a little thrill when I see the handwriting of ordinary people my mother stopped on the street in a tiny town in the Midwest when she was a high school senior. That’s why I said she was creating a Friends list and doing Facebook six decades before she ever got her iPad.

Advance’s Best-Kept Secret

On Memorial Day weekend, it’s appropriate to recognize salute the men and women who have served in our armed services to keep us free.

Advance has a Military Memorial in Maberry Park on the town square that lists Advance residents who made the ultimate sacrifice for us.

Advance Military Memorial

Advance High School sophomore Kathy Jenkins wrote these words which were engraved on a stone tablet in the park: “We salute the men and women who served in the armed forces. Their nationalism and loyalty gave us love and patriotism for our country. Our memory of their bravery will be everlasting.”

The memorial is a nice tribute, but that’s not what fascinates me about the park.

This tree probably knows the secret

This tree overlooking Maberry Park may know the real story of the town square. I mentioned in a story about the Advance train depot that Advance was founded when Louis Houck balked at paying $30 an acre for a depot in Lakeville. He instructed his civil engineer, Major James Francis Brooks, to “advance” about a mile west near a stand of mulberry trees and lay out a new town where he could buy the land for $10 an acre. That’s where the town’s name, Advance, came from.

Mayberry family cemetery

The land was originally owned by Joshua Maberry, and his family cemetery was located right in the middle of what was going to become the town. According to the sale agreement, the cemetery was supposed to be “forever maintained.”

Tombstones disappeared overnight

This aerial taken last fall shows the square where the Maberry cemetery was located. The stones you see aren’t tombstones, they are the Advance Military Memorial markers.

Sometime in the 1920s, all of the tombstones disappeared from the cemetery in the middle of the night. The graves are all still there, but any visible trappings of a graveyard vanished. Poof.

No one in town claimed any knowledge of what happened to the stones. Thomza Zimmerman, long-time family friend and editor of The Advance Advocate, said the theft was attributed to a women’s group which concerned itself with the “beautification of the city.”

In Advance, Missouri, A Look at the First Hundred Years, she wrote, “By that time (1920), the first and second generations of Maberrys were gone and any heirs who remained had moved away, but they (the Mayberrys) still owned the cemetery. When W.H. Whitwell and his wife, Mary Jane, bought the estate of Joshua Maberry in 1879, the deed reserved one acre of ground, ‘used as a graveyard.’

“Be that as it may, on a certain summer night, in the early 1920s, all of the gravestones disappeared. No one knew where they went or how they went. Many people wondered, but few asked.”

Sign adds insult to injury

Mother and my Grandmother were about as connected as you could get in a small town, but they always claimed they had never heard who was responsible for the tombstone thefts, and I’ve never heard any of the oldtimers fess up. It has to be the town’s best-kept secret.

I had never looked closely at this photo I shot in the fall of 2001. Not only did all of the tombstones disappear, but whoever put up this sign in the square labeled it “MABFRY PARK,” not Maberry Park, after the original family.

I’ll have to check to see if the sign has been corrected.

Elsie, This Is Your Life

I bet you thought I was going to write about my mother, since it’s Mother’s Day. Well, she certainly deserves it. If I got my work ethic from my father, then I got my spirit of inquisitiveness and adventure from Mother. Where did SHE get it?

Elsie Adkins Welch

She got it from HER mother, Elsie Adkins Welch. My grandmother was a petite woman, who was almost always perfectly coiffed and neatly dressed. She was an inveterate clipper of poems and inspirational pieces that she would work into speeches and letters. (She’s in the middle of this photo.)

Grandfather loved fishing and cigars

My grandfather, Roy, was an short, portly, amiable man, who loved to fish and puff on Roi Tan cigars.

When he moved in with us after his health failed, I asked him why he never looked at any of the fishing magazines I subscribed to, preferring, instead, to devour murder mysteries.

“If I read about fishing,” he said, “it would only make me want to go fish. I can read a murder mystery without wanting to go out and kill someone.”

Roy didn’t like to drive. Truth be told, he wasn’t very good at it. My grandmother, on the other hand, would do things like take off on a 10-day tour of the West with three of her buddies. (More about that later).

This Is Your Life

Gran, as we called her, was active in Eastern Star, was a Worthy Matron and founded a chapter of Past Worthy Matrons. June 4, 1962, the group recognized her with a This Is Your Life program. I think Anna Bidewell was responsible for putting together most of this information, although margin notes make it look like several other women either helped or read portions of the program. With only a few notes from me, here is my grandmother’s life as told by her friends.

Exciting times in Tillman

There were exciting things going on in the hills of a little town named Tillman on the morning of Sept. 24, 1892. On this fall day was when Elsie Lee was born to Willis and Mary Adkins. This was a house full of girls, because this made five, with Chloe, Ollie, Pearl and Iva.

Went to school in Pleasant Hill

Before long, your father opened a grocery store. Now, the town was growing. This made two stores and a blacksmith shop. In due time, you started school at Pleasant Hill. One of your teachers was a man named Monroe Harris. They say you were a live wire on the playground. You were full of mischief. It’s a wonder those tiny trees ever grew to be big and tall because that was a real good trick to ride the saplings at recess.

Polly wants a cracker

When you were 12 years old, your family moved to the big town of Advance. Your father opened a store across the street from the Advance Flour Mill. There was a parrot usually hanging on the porch in his cage. All we could get him to say was “Polly wants a cracker,” but your mother could get him to say lots of things.

My, how the kids envied the Adkins girls – why, Elsie could get anything she wanted without paying for it because they had a store.

Getting a bonnet in Cape

One of the big events of your early life was to go with your father to the big city of Cape Girardeau to buy supplies. Of course, this was by wagon. On one of these trips you bought a new bonnet at Miss Doyle’s Hat Shop, which was quite a thrill in those days. You finished high school in Advance.

Don’t go to Leopold Picnic

Your father and mother made a trip to Illinois to visit relatives. They gave you firm orders NOT to attend the picnic at Leopold with that young man Roy Welch or you’d really be in trouble when they returned. Later on, you said, “That was the best picnic Leopold ever had.”

Decided he could support a wife

There was a wedding on Feb. 29, 1912. You became the bride of that young man, Roy Welch. He was working at Dr. Cook’s drug store and decided he could afford to support a wife. You left on the noon train to a honeymoon trip to faraway Cape Girardeau and stayed at the hotel near the river.

You have to CLEAN the chicken?

Returning, you took a two-room apartment in the west end of town. One of your first meals was baked chicken. You worked all morning getting everything fixed just right. They say that, as meal time became closer, you began to smell something peculiar. By the time Roy came home, there was no question about the odor. You didn’t know that you were supposed to clean the inside of the chicken as well as the outside. But, with lots of experience, you became an excellent cook.

At other times, you wanted to prove that you were a real good housekeeper. One day when you were really busy, the neighbors thought it was snowing. On second thought, they knew it was a little late for a snow storm, so they investigated. It was just Elsie emptying the feathers out of the feather bed so she could wash the tick.

On March 25, 1913, a black-headed baby boy was born and named Kenneth Adkins Welch. You thought your happiness was complete. Soon after, you moved to a farm in the Little Vine community. There are lots of stories about the ice cream and watermelon parties held under the trees.

Mary Lee born in 1921

Nine years later, on Oct. 17, 1921, a baby girl was born. She was named Mary Lee, after her two grandmothers.

In 1924, you left the farm and moved back to Advance to open a business on Main Street. And, remember the big white house you moved into? With the big screened-in porch, so nice for all the parties, for young and old. We knew we would be greeted with the smell of fresh cut flowers, sweet peas in little crystal baskets here and a pot or geraniums there… they were all over. Everyone enjoyed going to the Welches.

About 1926, you were my Sunday School teacher. You had a class of teenage boy and girls. Each time that I needed you, you would give me you advice. What you said made me stop, listen and think twice.

[Editor’s note: the broach above is the one she’s wearing in the old photo.]

First trip to St. Louis

You took me on my first trip to St. Louis. Remember how we had to get out of the little Ford and walk up Null Hill? Felt like we were going to roll backwards down that mountain, but felt real good when we got to the top. After reaching the top, we climbed into the car again and went on our way, counting and taking down notes on the names of every little creek and bend in the road. This wasn’t a trip; it was a journey.

Things ran smoothly until the year of 1935 when tragedy struck your family in the form of an automobile accident that took the life of Kenneth. Time stood still for awhile.

Mary Lee married L.V. Steinhoff

On Jan. 7, 1942, you gained another son – Mary Lee was married to L.V. Steinhoff. You enjoyed each other very much. You all enjoyed many vacations together. But, some said they doubted if they were filled with as much fun as the one you took with Mabel, Lillian and Daisy.

On Trip to Yellowstone

[Editor’s note: I have an undated Missourian clipping that says, “ON TRIP TO YELLOWSTONE.” Leaving Sunday for a ten-day trip through the western states were Mrs. Lillian Ackert, Mrs. Roy Welch, Mrs. H. Zimmerman and Mrs. L.O. Reutzel. They will stop in Denver and Colorado Springs, and Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming.” To say this was unusual in that day and age would be an understatement. I remember crying when they left town because I wanted to go with them, so I had to have been around three, which would have put the trip in about 1950.]

Three Grandsons come along

On March 24, 1947, your first grandson, Kenneth Lee was born. He was your pride and joy and still is. Seven years later, David Louis made his appearance. You were still hoping for a granddaughter, but in 1956, another boy came along, Mark Lynn. To you, these are the greatest.

Joined the Eastern Star

In 1933, when you had some time on your hands, you petitioned the Advance Chapter of the Order of Eastern Star. In 1948, you became Worthy Matron of Advance Chapter 412. This was in the old hall over the bank. I shall never forget the faded wallpaper on the walls and the worn rug on the floor. But, that night, it was sparking clean and the Star Point chairs were all covered in white.

In your acceptance speech, you said in your precise and charming way, “The hall looks just beautiful. Beautiful. The paper doesn’t look faded anymore, nor does the rug look worn. From here in the East, it looks perfect.” Your daughter approached the East that night and presented you with a lovely basket of flowers.

You loved to talk

This was an outstanding year for all. You loved to talk and you had many speeches to give, so you had a ball. It was a lot of work, but you enjoyed every minute. Remember getting ready for company night? How hot the fire had to roar to get the old place hot. Tons of flowers were carried into this old hall to make it brighter. You loved to surprise us on chapter night. Remember popping a bushel basket of popcorn and carrying it up the long flight of steps? And, you always remembered our birthdays.

You gave me my first job in the Eastern Star. I was a new member, but I stood meekly in the shadows holding a spotlight on the scenes of This Is Your Life the night Vallie Bollinger was installed as Worthy Matron of the Advance Chapter.

Founded Past Matrons

In 1949, you were fast approaching the rank of Past Matron. After much meditation, you began to organize a Past Matrons Club, of which we now claim you as its Mother, not in age, but as its founder. “All thing start from someone’s dream; All things worthwhile were in dreams first seen.”

In 1955, you retired from active duty because of ill health, and you moved to Cape Girardeau to live with your daughter. But, your family says you are there in body only, not in spirit – Advance is the only home for you.

Roy Welch died in 1957

In 1957, the Death Angel once again visited your home, calling your husband, Roy.

But, with the three grandsons, Mary Lee, L.V. and the old spirit, you still have what it takes, attending our club meetings and Eastern Star whenever possible, even through rain and snow.

So, on this night, we nominate
And to do this I will not hesitate.
You’re a lady of prominence, I might say
Devoted to our Club and beautiful Order every day.
You’ve made a ladder that shall span the sky,
For deeds of love shall never die.

Elsie, This Is Your Life.

Elsie Welch died April 17, 1973

Elsie Welch died April 17, my Dad’s birthday, in 1973. She was a wonderful lady and I miss her.

 

Advance Train Depot

The Advance train depot was originally supposed to be located in Lakeville, described in 1875 as a “thriving town” with a population of about two hundred and all of the necessities of life in that era: a post office, a Union church, Masonic lodge, hotel, public school, general store and a saw and grist mill.

When Louis Houck extended his Cape Girardeau Railway line through the Old Field, heading south and west, though, he balked at the $30 an acre price Lakeville owner Jacob Kappler was asking.

Land in Advance was $10 an acre

Houck agreed that Kappler’s price wasn’t THAT far out of line, but he instructed his civil engineer Major James Francis Brooks to “advance” about a mile west near a stand of mulberry trees and lay out a new town where Joshua Maberry would sell the land for $10 an acre.

New Lakeville thrived and was later named Advance, with the accent on the first syllable. The original town dried up when it was bypassed by the railroad.

Railroad abandoned

I shot these photos for a story that ran in The Missourian June 24, 1966. The first train trip on this line was made in 1881. The last was Nov. 30, 1965. The tracks which once carried as many as four passenger trains a day in the 1920s were being abandoned. The ties were sold to Vernon Lee of Puxico; most of the right of way became part of the property that it adjoined. (What a great rails-to-trails bike path that would have made.)

A Missouri Railroad Pioneer

I picked up a book, A Missouri Railroad Pioneer: The Life of Louis Houck (Missouri Biography Series), when I was in Cape in the spring. I quickly set it back down when I saw it was forty bucks.

Reader, railroad buff and frequent commenter Keith Robinson highly recommended it, so I swallowed hard and bought it when I was in Cape this fall. It’s a great read about someone whose name I had heard all my life. I knew he must have been important enough to have a SEMO stadium named after him, but I never realized how key he was to the development of the Southeast Missouri region. (There might not have BEEN a Southeast Missouri State University if there hadn’t been a Louis Houck, by the way.)

Paul Corbin

Another reader, Madeline DeJournett said I should give local historian Paul Corbin a call. We chatted a few minutes and he mentioned that Missourian photographer Fred Lynch had published some audio recordings of him talking about the railroad and growing up in the Advance area. They’re worth a listen.

The old depot wasn’t just a place where the trains stopped. There’s a sign on the building saying that it’s the Railroad Express Agency, the way you got stuff to you in the days before Fed-Ex and UPS. I had a big box of stuff shipped by Railway Express from Cape to Athens, Oh., when I was in college. (They crushed the box and I had a devil of a time getting them to settle, but that’s another story.)

Another sign proclaimed that it was the Western Union Telegraph and Cable Office. I suspect it was a mail and newspaper drop, too. The Missourian used to put out an early edition for train delivery. It was a mishmash of yesterday’s news, today’s news and bad layouts. You had to have wanted a newspaper pretty badly to accept that one.

I’m not sure when the depot was finally torn down.