Cape Girardeau History and Photos
News photos that have grown whiskers and have become history
I wanted to get an updated photo of the dome of Academic Hall to contrast with the shiny copper dome I took in the spring of 2013. On my way down North Henderson on a drizzly afternoon, the cement plant popped up above the horizon.
As you can see, the trees around here are just starting to turn. I was afraid all the dry weather would cause the leaves to turn brown and fall off before we saw the neat colors.
I read Facebook to be amused, distracted, annoyed and to keep up with real and virtual friends.
Today, however, I was stopped in my tracks by a post by Lois Seabaugh: “To members of the class of ’65 at Central High School: A dear childhood friend of mine died on Tuesday October 7, 2014, in his sleep of an apparent heart attack. His name was is Randy Morse. He was one of the guys who bought an old hearse and took a trip to Florida. He was a great friend and a fun guy. He had been a lap swimmer for at least 36 years. I talked with him at least 3 mornings a week at the lap pool at HealthPoint Fitness for many years. RIP dear friend.”
“Randy Morse?” I thought. “Holy cow, that can’t be true. He’s only in his 40s.” Then it dawned on me: we were both in the Central High School Class of 1965. He was MY age.
I’ve been looking for the photos of the old hearse Mike Seabaugh, Pat Sommers, Randy, Phil Vinyard and Paul Schwab bought for $76.50 for a trip to Florida, but they are so far missing in action. When I saw Lois’ post, that hearse story was the first thing that popped into my mind. Fortunately, I was able to find the May 24, 1965, Youth Page story in The Missourian. The photo was taken in front of Mother’s house, so I know that means the negs are someplace.
The 1946 hearse was headed for the junkyard when Mike and Paul spotted the beast. Overcoming legal, financial and insurance issues took some serious juggling, with an assist from Teacher Calvin Chapman. If you have trouble reading my scan of the Missourian story, go here to read it in its original form.
The Missourian ran a front-page letter to the editor from a Winter Haven, Florida, woman who praised the five Cape boys as being “good ambassadors” of our community, calling them “fun-filled, clean-cut American youth.” You can read the September 9, 1965, letter here.
There were quite a few posts made on the Growing Up In Cape Girardeau fan page. I asked for permission to publish these comments.
Lois Seabaugh: Randy always got to HealthPoint Fitness just before.the doors opened at 5:00 a.m. He would swim laps until about 6:00 a.m. and when he left he would always say goodbye to the ladies in the 6:00 a.m. pool class (he was so funny, he would bow and bid us goodbye with a big smile and a wave as he went to the locker room.
Pat Sommers: Randy was a good friend for a long, long time. I remember when we won the KGMO Name that Tune Contest. He had the answer and I made the call from the Dairy Castle and got though first. We won in dollars the AM call number (can’t remember the amount, but less that $100). We took our winnings and went the New Orleans and had a $1.00 coke and then down to Woolworths and had banana splits — big spenders.
Randy, Paul Schwab, Phil Vinyard, Mike Seabaugh and I did buy the 37 Cadillac Hearse near the end of our senior year (1965). Had a blast around Cape and then took it on a 16-day odyssey to New Orleans and then to Daytona Beach — I believe these stories are still classified. There was a follow-up story in the Missourian based upon a letter the paper received from a couple of really nice older women we met at the hotel in Daytona Beach. They thought we were such nice young men — made our mothers feel really good to read it – and relieved at least some of their concerns. I will miss Randy – he was a great guy.
Lois Seabaugh: His sense humor was great. Some of the things we talked about during his early morning laps was how much he enjoyed doing laps at the Central Pool during the summer. One year there were some long-term repair issues and he had to use the indoor lap pool at HealthPoint Fitness. One morning during that time period he said, “Lois Ann, I really like this pool but I miss watching the sunrise on the Central Pool, but most of all I miss that early morning collection of bugs left over from the night before.”
We had a good laugh and I apologized for our lack of bugs in the water and reminded him that he could see the sunrise through our wall of windows, and I promised to ask our manager if I could bring a handful of bugs for him. He loved a good laugh and for weeks on end he would ask me when I was going to deliver the night bugs for him. RIP to my childhood friend, Randy Bill Morse. He did his pool laps until his last day on earth!
You can read the full obituary which has funeral arrangements at the Ford And Sons Funeral Home website. This is a much better than average obit. My compliments to the writer.
Randy William Morse, 66, of Cape Girardeau, Missouri left this part of his life on Tuesday, October 7, 2014 while resting comfortably at his home waiting for the Cardinals game to start. He was happy and he was loved, and his passing will change neither of those things.
Randy was born October 20, 1947 in Cape Girardeau to Claude E. “Pete” and Helen Margaret Layton Morse, both of whom preceded him in death. Already a precious son and brother, on October 20, 1972 he celebrated his birthday by (as he said) “marrying up”. Barbara Jordan would spend the next 42 years with his unwavering love and adoration, as often the recipient of a loving embrace as that of the most beautiful flowering weed he could find on his morning walks. Loving his family was important to him. Even more important was that they knew it.
Randy’s work was far from done when he left. He was well known in Southeast Missouri for his work in many area pharmacies. Almost every day for over 30 years started with a mile swim in the pool. He conquered or destroyed every golf course in the area and caught a few largemouth bass as well. He was proud to be a member of LaCroix United Methodist Church.
He is survived by his wife, Barb Morse, who is cherished by all but was never loved by anyone else the way Randy loved her. His son Erik and his wife Andrea will be in Columbia hugging, kissing and chasing Oliver and Amelia who will always love their Tops. His daughter Emily will continue to share their love of swimming, dogs and each other. And of course his perfect match of a sister, Sandy Burton and her husband Don of Wickliffe, Kentucky, will continue to know how loved they will always be by Randy Bill. Many nieces, nephews and cousins are also missing his infectious smile.
[Editor’s note: this photo in the 1964 Girardot says that Randy was in the picture, but it doesn’t look like him to me. Thoughts?]
Here’s the tale of our yellow jacket woes as told in email and Facebook posts to friends and family over the last couple of days.
Oct. 7, 2014, at 2:45 p.m. – Mother got nailed twice while pulling vines off the back of the house. I went into the same general area to load up some firewood and got stung once on the arm. The culprits were yellow jackets. You might think they are bees, but they have skinny waists and they can sting more than once. I think they are in some sandbags we have old kindling in.
I sprayed the area with some magic bug killer, but that just got them stirred up.
Last night, I went out after dark with a flashlight after everybody must have gone to sleep and started pulling the area apart with a hoe. When I felt something hit my beard, I beat a hasty retreat indoors and saw one on my shirt winding up to nail me. I brushed him off and watched him buzz around the room while I searched for a can of bug spray.
I dug one out of my car and went back to battle. I finally spotted the guy and gave him a good blast, but didn’t see him fall. After waiting a few minutes, I figured he had passed on to his just reward.
About two hours later, I saw something whiz by my ear and start flying around the desk lamp. I waited until he got to a clear spot and I really let him have it this time. I don’t know whether he was poisoned or drowned, but he stopped moving.
We’ll give the nest another crack tonight.
[Note: it’s not easy to shoot yellow jackets buzzing around. The best I can do is point the camera in their general direction and fire away when I see one go by. The autofocus isn’t picking up on something as small as an insect, so the few I DID capture were fuzzy. On top of that, I’m paranoid every time I see something moving in my peripheral vision, I flinch and start swiveling my head around. You wouldn’t believe how many tiny bugs and mosquitoes there are in the air. And dust specks. You can click on the photos to make them larger, but nothing is going to improve this one.]
Oct. 7, 2014, at 3:06 p.m. – Helpful hint from a Facebook friend: Wait till after midnight and add kerosene to the hole. Use a full gallon and then let soak for 60 minutes, then add another gallon and light. Bees be gone.
Oct 7, 2014, at 3:12 p.m. – My yellow jackets are against the house. I don’t think Mother would like it if I burned down her house to get rid of theirs.
Oct 7, 2014, at 3:32 p.m. – Another helpful hint from Facebook: Ken, use a lighter, the long one, like you used on a grill
Oct 7, 2014, at 3:34 p.m. – Lighting it isn’t a problem. Putting it out might be.
Oct 7, 2014, at 7:39 p.m. – I found the nest. I waited until after dark until there was no activity (well, there was one guy, but I gave him a blast of bug spray and he spiraled down to the ground. I tried not to gloat.).
I pulled two sandbags of kindling out into the yard with no results, but when I yanked a third one out, I exposed the hive and they were none too happy. I made a dash back to the house and got the door closed just as a couple of them were smashing against the glass.
I’ll wait until just before I go to bed and wash the hive down with spray if there aren’t any buzzing around.
Tue, Oct 7, 2014 at 9:44 p.m. – After watching the second half of Tombstone, a cowboy shoot-em-up movie, with Mother, I went downstairs the check the yellow jackets. I must have carried one inside with me, because he was buzzing around the desk lamp.
Unfortunately, in my hasty retreat earlier, I left the flying insect spray outside. By the time I stuck my head outside to grab it, he was hiding.
I went outside and saw I had split the hive into two pieces and both were covered with bugs. I sprayed them both down until I ran out of kill juice and made a beeline back inside.
I’m sitting at the computer watching for movement out of my peripheral vision and hoping I remember how Wyatt Earp did that quick-draw thing.
Oct 7, 2014, at 9:46 p.m. – I stuck my head outside again. I think I may have won the skirmish. Nothing was in the air (although a cricket by the door frame took a year off my life).
The sizable hive had bunches of dead critters on it and none flying combat air patrol over it.
The guy in the basement must still be here somewhere. My head is still swiveling around and the bug spray is locked and loaded if he shows up. I’m full dressed in a long-sleeve shirt, jeans, socks and a cap. I was wearing gloves up until a few minutes ago.
After I took the gloves off, a mosquito bit me on the back of my hand.
Oct. 8, 2014, at 10:04 a.m. – I got my first good look at the hive this morning. It’s pretty good size. It was built between the dirt and a sandbag. The spray killed a substantial number of the critters, but there are enough buzzing around in the air that I’m going to leave it alone until after dark.
I thought the hive was in two pieces, but the bulk of it is stuck to the bottom of a sandbag. I don’t see any movement ON the hive, but there are a dozen or so yellow jackets orbiting the area. I’ll let them settle down until after dark.
Oct. 8, 2014, at 9:05 p.m. – Went out with rake and pulled sandbags out into the yard. When I got a closer look at the hive, it appeared to be made up of multiple pancake-sized nests. I pulled apart some of the “pancakes” and thought I saw movement, so I blasted it and the area where I saw the activity this afternoon. Maybe it’ll all be over by morning.
What’s with Cape and stinging insects? I got nailed by a bee when I tried to shoot the destruction of Franklin School in 2012.
I remember when yard sales first started happening 25 or 30 years ago. Mother and Wife Lila and I would spend weekends buying stuff that would eventually end up in a couple of our own sales.
This weekend, Mother and I hit a big estate sale, a tag sale and several yard sales (some of them more than once.) I’m not exactly sure what the difference is between tag sales and yard sales; they all acted the same to me.
We got some killer bargains: both of us needed new suitcases, a big one for me and a small one for her. We picked up two that looked like they may have made one trip from Phoenix to St. Louis. The blank warranty card was still in one. Cost? About $11 for both.
I have a big box of kid books for a few dollars that’ll keep the grandkids busy for a long time. The most immediately useful thing was a decent office chair for $5. It’s way better than the funeral home chair I had been using in the basement.
It didn’t dawn on me until we were headed out from the last sale with our arms full that I should have been shooting pictures. I don’t have many food pictures because I’m too busy eating to muck with the camera, and I was too busy shopping to shoot. Sorry.
What amazes me about yard sales is how many items are still in their original wrapping. Were the items given as gifts? Were they things bought by mistake? You have to wonder if the stuff was bought at another yard sale “because the prices was too good to pass up,” but never used.
What’s the best bargain you’ve run across at a yard sale? Do you think they are as good as they were years ago, or has all the good stuff been sold?