Sunny Hill Is Hard to Shoot

I’ve tried several times over the years to take a picture of the old Sunny Hill Restaurant  On West End Blvd. south of Independence because people keep asking about it.

I have yet to find a good angle, but here are some attempts.

No good angle

There’s no good angle. First off, it’s an ugly building with no personality. Then, the multi-story building that was once a motel and is now apartments put what used to be the restaurant entrance in deep shadows. This is one building I wouldn’t miss if it falls to a wrecking ball. Anything that would make you think of the Sunny Hill of old is long gone.

Fred Lynch has Frony photos

The Missourian’s Fred Lynch has run at least two Frony photos that will look more like what we remember of Sunny Hill in its heyday.

The Country Store

One of Dad’s favorite places was The Country Store, located just north of Sunny Hill. It was a general merchandise store that sold all kinds of odds and ends, with the emphasis on odd. Over the years, the store was added onto until it was shaped something like a scorpion. I looked to see I had a recent photo of the building, but it’s either gone or I didn’t think to shoot one. All of my aerials cut off just east of Sunny Hill.

Wife Lila, who was proofing this, said she thought Mother had taken a photo of the Country Store right after we gave her a digital camera and while she was roaming all over town trying it out. I’m pretty sure this is it, but I’ll let someone else tell me for sure.

 

David Steinhoff’s Birthday

You don’t see as much stuff about Brother David here as you do Brother Mark and Mother. Part of that is that David moved out to Tulsa, while Mark lives in St. Louis, so it’s a lot easier to see them when I come back to Cape. I’m bad about dates, so I let not only David’s birthday, which is September 12, slip by, I forgot that the 11th was David and Diane’s 35 wedding anniversary.

Stories about David

I’d like to find the photos of him when he drove my shiny new car from North Carolina. I bought the car the weekend before we were to move from Gastonia to West Palm Beach because I trusted the dealer. Wife Lila had her own car to drive, and I had to pilot the rental truck with all our belongings. David hadn’t had his license all that long, and I don’t think he had ever driven a stick shift before, but I put him in the car for a couple hours of driving lessons, then we headed south.

I’m pretty sure I said something like, “It almost all Interstate. If you can get it into fourth gear, leave it there until you can coast off the highway when you run out of gas.” He and the car both made it to Florida.

Gallery of David Photos

Here’s a quick selection of David Steinhoff photos over the years. I promise that I’ll do a better job next year of finding some better photos. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.

Proud Boy, Big Catfish

Seems like there has been a rash of fishing photos turning up lately. Y’all have gotten pretty good at identifying people, so I’ll post this proud fisherman with a sizable catfish.

Without any concrete evidence, it has the feel of the Capaha Park Lagoon to it. The only clue I have is that the negative sleeve was dated June 24, 1967.

Anybody want to take a stab to put a name on the boy (or the catfish) and nail down the location? I flashed on another fisherman, but it’s not any of these guys. Here’s another example of Capaha Park fisherboys.

Fair Trophies and Cow Milking

These were in the same negative sleeve with the photos of the casting contest, dated Sept. 15, 1967. I guess Chris Sawyer was cuter than these two guys with fair trophies, because this photo didn’t run in the paper, so far as I could find. I don’t know if the trophies were being dropped off for the fair or if someone really cleaned up. The only clue is the name “something” Farms on the door of the pickup. (Click on the photos to make them larger.)

How to milk a cow

This photo of a little girl watching a cow being milked didn’t run, either. I don’t know who she is or who the farmer is. The cows, too, alas, are anonymous.