Ken Steinhoff, Author at Cape Girardeau History and Photos

March 14, 2011March 14, 2011

McGinty Party

I didn’t go to a whole lot of parties. First off, I’m a social wallflower. My enjoyment of an event is inversely proportional to the number of people attending. I don’t do small talk well and Shari Stiver can tell you how well I dance from the first and only time we went to a place where dancing was committed.

Wife Lila, who loves to gyrate, doesn’t realize what an act of kindness it is that I don’t get out on the floor with her. I haven’t tried moving to music in years, but I’m fairly sure it would look like a combination of stomping out a campfire and being attacked by ants.

Here are three frames from what was slugged “McGinty Party.” No date, no indication of WHICH McGinty it was or what was being celebrated.

Couple ranked Number One

This photo would lead you to believe that there must have been some kind of dance contest going on and this judge is rating the couple Number One.

The dance participant in the middle is probably STILL going to the chiropractor to recover from the evening’s event.

Special event: it has balloons

I wasn’t going to guess names to protect the guilty, but the guy on the left looks like John “Doc” Carpenter, a Sikeston debater and future Cape Coroner. I published a photo of him doing a swoop and scoop at a wreck on Main Street. The fellow on the right looks a little like my debate partner, John Mueller.

When I look back at these photos, maybe there’s a good reason why I didn’t get many party invites.

March 13, 2011March 14, 2011

Microwave Towers and Paratroopers

This photo was taken from a classroom in Academic Hall, looking toward downtown. The objects sticking up above the skyline are the phone company’s microwave towers. In the Old Days before optic cables, a lot of the country’s long distance traffic was beamed from point to point using these towers. Almost all of them have been decommissioned now.

Paratrooper speech

I don’t know if this was the classroom where I took speech under Fred Goodwin, who also produced winning debate teams.

The assignment was to give a speech where you demonstrate something. I walked into class with my camera, proceeded to shoot pictures of everyone, then developed the roll of film standing in front of the classroom.

Mr. Goodwin said it was a good effort, but didn’t come close to a demonstration he had in his early teaching days. The student was a former paratrooper who gave a speech on what it was like to jump out of a plane. In conclusion, he walked to the window, threw open the sash, perched briefly on the window sill, did a tuck and roll and disappeared from sight.

It was not a first-floor window

Mr. Goodwin said he could see his career perishing along with his student. After a moment of stunned silence, the whole class, including the instructor, made a dash to the window, where they saw the student beaming up at them.

He didn’t say what grade the student earned.

March 11, 2011April 10, 2016

Central Snaps II

In the same negative sleeve marked Central Snaps with the pep rally photos from the other day were these random photos.

Some of the film was in pretty bad shape and some of the exposures were marginal, so I apologize for the dust spots, blurs and scratches. Even though some of them are technically not great, they contain photos of some of the teachers I remember best. And, they did a pretty good job of capturing some of their favorite gestures and body language.

Miss Kathryn Sackman, American History teacher, had a way of leaning forward, cocking her head and peering at you through her glasses just like above. I recognize Joan Earley and Yvonne Askew.

Irene Wright

English and drama teacher Irene Wright, shown here in what must have been the auditorium, taught with a flair and a lot of enthusiasm.

Ruby Davis

Ruby Davis, in the background, taught art, speech, debate and sponsored the school publications. She also cut me no slack. I still have some of her critiques of my speeches. “There is no such word as ‘warsh.'” “Sarcastic may feel good, but it doesn’t win debates.” She despaired of ever ridding me of my Swampeast Missouri nasal twang.

I can’t tell how many times I’ve seen her with that hand on the neck contemplative look. When it was directed at me, I always had the feeling she was holding on to her neck to keep from grabbing me around mine.

Yearbook work

These ladies appear to be working on The Girardot. That’s Vicki Miller on the right. I must have been taking lessons from One-Shot Frony, because I shot just one frame of each situation. In most cases, it was one shot per classroom. I don’t recall ever printing these, so it must have been done as some kind of finger exercise.

Hallway photo

I don’t know if this was in a hallway, the Tiger Den or the cafeteria. That’s Vicky Roth beaming at the camera. I know she was beaming at the camera because she was always more likely to bean me than beam AT me.

Is that Carol Rawlings?

Is the girl in the middle of this picture in the library Carol Rawlings? Wife Lila says “no;” I say “maybe.” Anyone want to weigh in?

Sally Wright in library

That’s Sally Wright, right foreground, cracking the books in the library. It’s a fairly studious-looking group.

Central High School library

I had forgotten how crowded the library was. I see one person reading a newspaper, but the majority of students have books open and pencils in hand. That might be Bill East in the white shirt on the right, but I wouldn’t swear to it.

Is there talking going on?

It’s sort of hard to tell, but it looks like the couple on the right may be breaking the rules by talking in the library.

March 10, 2011August 24, 2015

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.