Photos around Cape Archives

June 18, 2011September 22, 2011

Fathers and Fishing

Fathers and fishing just seem to go hand in hand.

My grandfather, Roy Welch, would have been content to spend his whole life on a creek bank with a cane pole and his ever-present Roi Tan cigars. I’ve told the story about how I asked him why he read murder mystery books instead of my fishing magazines. His heath was failing and he was living with us at the time. His answer: “If I read about fishing, I’d want to go fishing. I can read a murder mystery without wanting to go out and kill someone.”

I’m pretty sure the man in the center middle seat is my grandfather.

Dad and Grandfather in 1942

This photo was taken of my Dad and Grandfather in Rolla in 1942.

Caption says they’re talking fishing

The caption on the back of the photo, in my Dad’s distinctive handwriting, asks, “Where can we go fishing?”

Radio of death

The “portable” radio behind Dad would operate on a huge battery or on AC power. The only catch was that if you happened to touch any metal on the radio when it was plugged into the wall, you’d get a taste of what the guy in the electric chair must have experienced. The thing is still up in Mother’s attic. I’m afraid to get near it. I think it’s still looking for me.

Fishing was fun until you caught one

When I was a kid, I loved to fly fish. I loved that feeling when you dropped a fly in just the right spot and a fish hit it like he was a tennis player returning a serve. It was all the stuff that happened after that I wasn’t keen on.

When I was working in Athens, Ohio, the other photographer, Bob Rogers, lived in a house with a nice pond in his front yard. On a slow day, I’d park my car close enough that I could hear any radio calls, then get in a little fishing. If I caught anything, I’d leave a note on Bob’s door telling him there was a stringer of fish waiting for him. Catching was more fun than cleaning.

Looks like Brothers David and Mark share my enthusiasm for skinning and preparing catfish.

Tentative touching going on

I don’t know that Mark ever warmed up to fishing, but David got to be quite an accomplished fish killer. You saw how Son Matt reacted to fish when Dad introduced him to one. He still has that reaction.

So, how many of you associate fishing with your father? Was it a mostly guy thing or was there some father / daughter bonding done on the creek bank, too?

Stories about my Dad

June 16, 2011September 22, 2011

Fischer’s Market / Islamic Center

A March 15, 1946, Missourian brief said that “Arthur M. Fischer has purchased the two-story brick building at 298 North Boulevard, the ground floor of which he has occupied the past five years with his retail grocery, Fischer’s Market. The purchase of the building was made from Mrs. Carl Umbeck, whose husband erected the structure and for years operated a grocery there. Mr. Fischer bought the grocery business from Mr. Umbeck when the latter retired.

“Mr. Fischer also purchased a vacant lot adjacent on the south to the store, the entire property having a frontage on West End. Boulevard of 135 feet and a depth of 132 feet. Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Klaproth, who recently sold their frame dwelling at 1318 Perry avenue to M.G. Campbell, have moved into the second floor apartment. Mrs. Umbeck went to New York City several days ago to reside with a son, Theodore Umbeck.”

A Sept. 22, 1987, story said that Fischer’s Market was going to close after 50 years. At one time, three Fischer’s Markets were operating in Cape – this one; Fisher’s Four-Way Store at Bloomfield and Koch, and Fisher’s Downtown Market at 19 N. Spanish. J. Ronald Fisher Jr. said, “You might say that Fischer’s Market has run its course. The small neighborhood grocery store has a difficult time staying afloat.”

Cornerstone Assembly Church bought the property in 1991.

Grocery became Islamic Center

I was surprised to see that the former grocery had been turned into a very attractive Islamic Center. I don’t know what the long, horizontal building behind the Center is used for today, but it once was where the chickens were processed for the market. Fischer’s had a standing ad wanting to buy “heavy type hens for top prices.”

I didn’t do an exhaustive search, but it seems like the Center has managed to avoid the controversy that has surrounded similar centers in other towns. The members have joined with other religious organizations in acts of fellowship and charity. In fact, it was once of those ecumenical meetings that caused EVERYONE who participated to be condemned in Missourian comments for being tools of Satan and for fostering “one world religion.” You know you’re making progress when the equal opportunity haters target Catholics, Methodists, Muslims, Baptists and those of the Hindu faith as a common group.

The Missourian’s coverage has been positive and there have been a number of supportive editorials.

In 2009, a Cape Girardeau man was sentenced to three years in prison for hate crimes for vandalizing the center and a car in the parking lot, plus driving while intoxicated.

June 15, 2011September 22, 2011

Thinking of Dad

Sometimes I KNOW I’ve taken a photo; I just can’t find it. It’s been a long time since I went wading through the boxes of prints and negatives that are stored in Wife Lila’s domain in the dining room buffet. She’s the custodian of “family” photos. Most of my pictures are of strangers.

My search came up empty, but I did find this envelope of color negatives taken in the special summer of 1976.

Looks like Son Matt was about a year old. Brother David and Diane got married. We went to Kentucky Lake and down to Dutchtown where Steinhoff & Kirkwood kept their construction equipment. You can click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.

I’m jumping the gun a little on the formal holiday, but every day is Father’s Day when the memories wash over you.

Riding the mailbox

Matt’s not sure he likes the idea of riding the mailbox in front of the house on Kingsway.

Ears make convenient handles

Matt’s trying to figure out what those funny things are sticking out of the side of Dad’s head.

Dutchtown “garden”

Part of the land at Dutchtown was set aside for a garden and small orchard. The floods have gradually wiped out all of the fruit trees.

Not your normal Tonka toy

One of the cool things about about having a dad in the construction business was getting to play on the real version of what other kids had in plastic. OSHA would probably take a dim view of this, but we thought it was normal play. You have to admit that not many grandmothers get a chance to do this, either.

An appreciation for different vantages

As you can see, if you were in our family, you learned an appreciation for different vantage points.

Were we really that young?

Where have the years gone? Wife Lila and I are twice as old as we were when these photos were taken. One minute you’re holding a toddler; the next you’re cashing your Social Security check. (Which that toddler is contributing to.)

Not quite ready to drive yet

You wonder if a child this young has any real memories of this or if they’re based on photographs and family stories.

Not sure about hay bales

This shed was used to store lumber and bales of hay. Matt doesn’t look like he cares much for sitting on stickery hay bales. Or, he might be trying to figure out if you’re supposed to eat the straw.

Good pepper crop

The pepper crop looks pretty good, but Matt is more interested in an apple.

Trailer on Kentucky Lake

Dad and Mother had a trailer over at Kentucky Lake. There was a bass boat for Dad to use for fishing and a ski boat for hauling Brothers Mark and David around. I skied a few times, but decided that wasn’t my idea of a fun afternoon.

Dad is introducing Matt to the finer points of cane pole fishing.

Duck feeding is more his speed

Matt seems to hope that Pringles will be sufficient to keep hungry ducks at bay.

This, my grandson, is a fish

This sequence maybe gives a clue to why Matt doesn’t eat seafood to this day.

What’s this thing taste like?

Am I supposed to put it in my mouth?

OK, I’m done with fish

It don’t take me long to look at a fish. I’m done.

Dressed for the wedding

Dad always wore clean and pressed work clothes, even when he was headed to a dirty job on a construction site. He looked good in a suit, too. I don’t, however, recall seeing him dressed like this many times. The occasion was Brother David’s wedding.

A pensive look

Those sideburns are creeping down pretty far. I guess it was the influence of Mark, whose hair was so long that I gave him a bumper sticker that said, “I’m a Boy.”

Mother and Dad together

They made quite the couple.

Mark, when he had hair

I’m glad he enjoyed it while he had a chance to.

David and Diane

Sister-in-Law Diane looks just like she did as a bride. David, fortunately, DOESN’T look like he did on his wedding day.

Bittersweet memories

A year later, I learned a hard lesson: better pile up all the memories you can when you have the chance.

We had planned to go back to Cape in July of 1977, but my new job as director of photography at The Palm Beach Post got in the way. I had to postpone our vacation a couple of weeks to get the next year’s operating budget out of the way.

Dad was going to use the extra time to build a sandbox for Matt at Kentucky Lake. He must have been carrying a sandbag when he had a massive heart attack. He was 60.

I’m sorry that he didn’t have a chance to see how his grandsons turned out. He’d have been proud of them.

Sorry for indulging in a little more family history than I had intended.

June 13, 2011December 29, 2011

Do These Photos Say Cape?

I have a friend who was looking for some stock photos of Cape to use as headers on a web page. I started poking around and came up with these old and new photos that I think capture some of the spirit of the town.

The biggest challenge was finding pictures that would fit the exact format shape – a skinny horizontal.

Photographers HATE to shoot for shape

Photographers HATE going out to shoot for shape. We always figured that was a sign that the page designer was too lazy to work with the most story-telling photos on deadline. He wanted to dummy the page early so he could go home early.

Photographers, of course, believe that every photograph is perfectly composed. Some would express that conceit by printing their photos “full frame” with black borders that indicated that the picture had not been cropped. (Guilty as charged.)

Of course, as a guy who had to do his own layouts, I found that sometimes cropping the photo made the page look a lot better. It was OK if I did it; it was a mortal sin if someone else did it.

Photo gallery

Since I’m not exactly sure what my friend is looking for, I’ve pulled together photos that you’ve seen before and some that were in the pipeline. I’m curious to see what you think best says “Cape Girardeau.”

If she uses any, I’ll post the website address. As always, click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.