October 2014

October 27, 2014

Hemman Winery in Brazeau

The banquet tables at the Immigration Conference were set with bottles of Hemman Winery cranberry wine.

[My presentation went well, thanks for asking. The audience looked at the videos I had produced of The Last Generation of German speakers, laughed where appropriate and had eyes glistening with moisture where appropriate. It’s always a rush to watch folks enjoying something you produced.]

Mother and Wife Lila accompanied me to the banquet after enjoying some great music in the museum. Lila likes a good wine, unlike me, who has never found a good replacement for the bottles of Ripple we OU Post photographers kept stashed in old photo paper boxes in the fridge. I mean, who is going to open a box marked “Open in darkroom only?”]

She thought the cranberry wine was good enough that she wanted to go to the winery in Brazeau, just up the road from Frohna’s Saxon Lutheran Memorial and not too far from Seventy-Six. Class of ’66 buddy Jane Rudert McMahan was in town, so the four of us headed north, with a stopover at the Altenburg museum.

Bonnie did the pouring

Bonnie Hemman had a full array of wines set up for tasting.She did a great job explaining each wine and how it was made.

Before we got out of the place, Lila had picked up a case of mostly fruit wines that may show up as Christmas gifts for some lucky people.

The place also had a spinach – artichoke dip that was excellent. I suspect Bonnie may see us again when Curator Jessica hits town next week. It seems like every other email I get from her has a wine mention in it, so I gather she is fond of the grape (or the cranberry or blackberry or rhubarb).

Lots of eye candy

While you are waiting for your turn to taste, you can wander around looking at the antique items displayed on shelves around the room. We didn’t discover the outdoor seating area with music until we were out in the parking lot headed home (almost).

I’ve been having some battery problems lately, and needed a jump. A couple of guys pushed my van out to the middle of the parking lot where my jumper cables could reach a jeep one of them pulled up. When it when it finally cranked, I tried to give them some money, but they refused to take it. I offered to buy them a bottle of wine, but they refused it. I told them to take the money inside and buy somebody ELSE a bottle of wine or a couple of beers, but they refused that, too. Perry County has some nice folks in it, for sure.

Barber chair older than mine

The building housing the winery used to have a barber shop attached. The barber chair might be just a few years older than the one we have in our living room, based on the arms and color.

Sweeter than cranberry wine

While Mother was checking out the music action on the north side of the winery, I was scoping out the view to the south. That’s sweeter than the cranberry wine.

For more information, including wine varieties, hours and directions, go to the Hemman Winery website. If you stop by, tell ’em we sent you. Say hi to Bonnie for us. And, you won’t find a better place to have a dead battery.

Click on the photos to make them larger.

October 26, 2014

99 South Park Avenue

Mother said she remembered buying meat at this building at 99 South Park Avenue when it was a grocery store. It’s at the corner of Park Avenue and Merriwether Street.

The only quick story I could find was in the Society News of the March 26, 1942, Missourian:

“The marriage of Mrs. Hattie Huckstep Abbot and J.C. McLain of this city was performed by Rev. C.E. Fleshman at the Nazarene Church at 3 o’clock Wednesday afternoon.

“Until resigning Saturday, Mrs. McLain was employed at the Roth Tobacco Co. Mr. McLain, who operated a grocery at 99 South Park Avenue 12 to 14 years, until a year ago, has bought a residence from his mother, Mrs. Katherine McLain, at 103 South Park Avenue, where Mr. and Mrs. McLain will live and will open a grocery store.”

{That has to be one of the world’s longest run-on sentences.]

“His mother, who lived at 103 South Park Avenue, will move to 101 South Park Avenue.“

October 25, 2014

Perry County People

I decided to completely revise my Last Generation presentation for the Immigration Conference at the Altenburg Lutheran Heritage Center and Museum at the last minute, and PowerPoint isn’t playing nicely, so this may be a long night / morning.

Here’s a photo gallery of some of the folks I’ve photographed and interviewed who spoke German as their primary language when they were children.

October 24, 2014

My Office Heirlooms

I was talking with a former newspaper colleague tonight – Foodie and Road Warriorette Jan. I was having one of our favorite discussions about food.

“If there is a stick of salami in a Ziploc bag and it feels sort of sticky-slimy when you pick it up, and the exposed end is kind of gray, and the insides have the same kind of gray extending as much as a quarter inch toward the middle, do you think it’s OK to eat if I trim out the heart of it?”

“It probably WON’T kill you”

There was a silence, a long sigh, and a “Well, it probably WON’T kill you, but you could have an unpleasant day tomorrow if you eat it.” Deep down in her heart, I think she really DID want me to eat it.

Anyway, that got me thinking about my old office. It’s hard to believe I’ve been retired since about this time in 2008. Before I packed everything up, I shot some pictures to remind me of what it looked like.

The “In Case of Emergency Break Glass fire alarm” (with broken glass) came from a yard sale. The “Matt and Sarah got married and all I got was this lousy cup” came from their wedding. “I Don’t Do Perky” came from Nancy Allen, one of my help desk people. I’m not sure why she thought it was an appropriate gift for me.

A lump of coal

The dark object on the left side of Dad’s dragline ashtray is a lump of coal photo lab tech Mary Ann Bates gave me for Christmas. There’s probably some kind of message there, too, but I never could figure it out.

The Potashnick sticker came from a yard sale.

The BS grinder

I’m not sure where I got the wooden object with the crank handle.

Lon Danielson, the general manager came into my office while I was on the phone one afternoon. While he was waiting for me to wrap up the call, he started looking at my heirlooms.

“What’s this?” he asked after I put the phone down, picking up the object and idly turning the crank.

“It’s a BS grinder,” I replied.

I noticed that every time he came into my office after that, he would pick up my BS grinder and start cranking it. There was probably a message there, too.

You’ll recognize the Indian head from a story I did about slot machines and gambling raids.

“You’ve got to show me”

I had little patience with vendors who wasted my time. When a new one came in, I’d point to my bulletin board to set the ground rules.

Click on the photos to make them larger. By the way, you can see more shots of my office and hidden areas that only techie types could get into if you follow the tour of the Hula Parrot.