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Cape Central High Photos

Ken Steinhoff, Cape Girardeau Central High School Class of 1965, was a photographer for The Tiger and The Girardot, and was on the staff of The Capaha Arrow and The Sagamore at Southeast Missouri State University. He worked as a photographer / reporter (among other things) at The Jackson Pioneer and The Southeast Missourian.

Come here to see photos and read stories (mostly true) about coming of age in Southeast Missouri in the 1960s.

Please comment on the articles when you see I have left out a bit of history, forgotten a name or when your memory of a circumstance conflicts with mine. (My mother says her stories have improved now that more and more of the folks who could contradict her have died off.) Your information helps to make this a wonderful archive and may end up in book form.


Going to the Dogs

Dog Ft Pierce FL 07-23-2014I got held up a little this morning by a hot cell right over our house. Not only was it raining, but just as I put my hand on the aluminum screen door on the porch, there was a flash of lightning that must have hit a block away, followed by a clap of thunder almost strong enough to bowl me over.

I decided to wait inside.

When the last thing was loaded, I reached over to turn the key to get the AC blasting and heard “Whirrr, whirr, whir, silence.” I haven’t done much driving lately, and I had the car’s interior lights on for a long time last night, so the battery was dead. That’s not a good omen for the start of a trip.

Once I got clear of the yard, stopped for gas and got on the highway, though, life improved. I’m listening to a really interesting audiobook, A Higher Call, “an incredible true storm of combat and chivalry in the war-torn skies of WWII.” That made the miles go by quickly.

A neighbor I hadn’t expected

I stopped at the Steak ‘n’ Shake in Ft. Pierce for lunch. When I finished, I noticed a vehicle parked pretty close to my driver side. It had the window down and I could see a figure behind the wheel. I calculated that the driver was waiting for someone to come out, so I sidled between the two cars with my back to the neighbor.

When I got to where the window was, I heard a low, guttural sound more like an intake of breath than a “WOOOOOF.” I turned to look this guy in the eye. He had an equally big friend behind the wheel.

I thought, this is REALLY going to be a bad way to start a trip.

I give the animals credit. They never barked; they never acted agitated, in fact, despite the fact that we were almost touching each other, they didn’t take much interest in me.

For the record, I wasn’t concerned that the owner had left them unattended in the vehicle: both windows were down, it was a fairly cool, overcast morning, and the dogs weren’t panting from the heat.

I pulled into Tifton, Georgia, shortly before dark, with 436 miles of 1,100 in my rearview mirror.

By the way, you can click on the dog if you want to make him larger, but he was PLENTY large enough for me.

4 comments to Going to the Dogs

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