Driving on Ice Crash Course

I was cruising around on a snowy December day in 1966 when I learned that studded snow tires will help you get GOING, but aren’t all that great at stopping.

Jim Stone, Carol Klarsfeld and I were creeping down a steep hall off Bertling when I came around a curve to find a car skidded out and sideways on my side of the road. I put on my brakes, but the same ice that kept him from going UP the hill kept me from stopping going DOWN the hill.

You can’t hurt a 59 Buick LaSabre

My car caught his left rear door and left rear quarter panel, crunching sheet metal and peeling paint. The damage to my 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon was so insignificant that I didn’t even shoot a photo of it.

It was certainly less a dent than I got on my first driving lesson with Ernie Chiles.

First on the scene

Considering how many miles I drove a year under all kinds of condition, I was pretty lucky (knock wood) never to have been involved in a serious crash. I DID have a few fender benders, though.

I was cruising on a twisty road in Southern Ohio when a farm tractor pulling a trailer full of kids pulled out of a lane in front of me. I opted to steer into a ditch to keep from hitting the tractor. Damage was minimal, but I reported the crash anyway.

The trooper who pulled up recognized me and said, “I bet that’s the fastest you’ve ever been to the scene of an accident.”

How to deal with insurance companies

Not long after that, I was following a bus that was coming into a small Ohio town. The bus stopped. I stopped. The guy behind me DIDN’T stop. He was cited. He had insurance with Grange Insurance, which took its sweet time settling with me.

I was hanging out at the highway patrol HQ trading gossip and complaining about getting jerked around when one of the troopers gave me some advice: “Call the agent and tell him that it’s a good thing it’s taking so long for them to get you a check. You’ve noticed some pains in your neck and back that didn’t start hurting right away. If it doesn’t stop hurting by tomorrow, you’ll go to the doctor to get checked out.”

Insurance adjuster tracked me down

I did as he said. That night, I was covering a high school football game in Logan, OH, where this photo was taken. At half time, a guy walked up to me and asked if I was Ken Steinhoff. I said I was.

It was the insurance agent from Grange. He wanted to know if we could go to my car to get out of the rain. When we got to it, I asked if he would like me to get a flashlight so he could inspect the damage to my vehicle.

“No, I just wanted to get out of the rain so I could write you a check if you think the amount is reasonable.” It was more than reasonable. My aches and pains went away immediately.

Gas Prices and Atomic Bombs

It’s amazing how readers can come up with the strangest permutations of story ideas. Yesterday I wrote about how a big tire went bouncing down Broadway in 1965, wreaking havoc (OK, breaking a window and denting a car).

Among the photos I posted was Pete Koch’s Sinclair Station. Read the comments on yesterday’s posting to see what it’s being used for today. (You might have to press CTRL-F5 to bring up the latest ones when you get there.)

Cape gasoline prices

A comment I made that I thought gas would have been about 36 cents a gallon in that era prompted Spokesrider to say that sounded high from his perspective in Michigan. I still think 36 cents was right, except for the occasional price war kicked off by Thoni’s.

Bro Mark sent  me this photo of his living room wall, along with this note: “Saw your piece this morning. I bought these paper gas price signs in Cape and framed them a long time ago. Ah, the good old days of cheap gas and polio and cold war threats…I’ll take the high price of gas today, thank you.”

Snow ice cream and strontium 90

All the news about making snow ice cream and Mark’s comments about Cold War threats must have been in the back of my mind when I picked up The Week magazine and saw an obituary for Dr. Louise Reiss. If you are of an age to remember Duck and Cover, your parents may have sent your baby teeth off to Dr. Reiss.

The St. Louis doctor had hit on the idea of testing children’s baby teeth for strontium 90, a radioactive byproduct of atomic bombs that were being detonated in the atmosphere. Her analysis of 320,000 teeth showed that children born in St. Louis in 1963 had 50 times as much strontium 90 in their teeth as children born in 1950.

Her findings were largely responsible for the U.S., Britain and the Soviet Union agreeing to a partial ban on testing atomic weapons in the atmosphere.

That’s why you’re safer eating snow ice cream today than when we were kids. (You still want to avoid yellow snow.)

Big Tire Smashes into Car

The big news in The Missourian Nov. 20, 1965, was a 700-pound wheel that broke off a city motor grader and went bouncing down the 700 block of Broadway. It smashed a window at Shoppers’ Warehouse Market, Inc., then bounced into in the side of Mrs. Diane Kincaid’s car. No one was injured. Cape Girardeau Patrolman Jeffery L. Steger is investigating.

That’s the most newsworthy photo – and the one that ran in the paper – but some of the other frames I shot that day are interesting from a historical standpoint.

Pete Koch’s Sinclair Station

I tried to read the price on the pumps, but I couldn’t make it out. My guess is that it was about 36 cents a gallon in 1965. The building and pumps have been replaced by a convenience store named Downtown Sinclair.

Downtown Sinclair in 2009

If there are any gas pumps around, I can’t see them in this photo. The Dino the Dinosaur sign has been replaced by one directing you to Centenary Church.

Familiar buildings on Broadway

The phone company building still has its microwave tower used for long distance back in the days before fiber optic cable. With a little imagination, I thought I could read that a Steve McQueen movie was playing at the Esquire, but I couldn’t make out the name of which one.

I can make out signs for Bill’s Pharmacy and Wayne’s Grill, the home of the best filet I’ve ever eaten. It was a Saturday payday ritual to stop off and have one of those bacon-wrapped steaks.

Crash attracted crowd

A crowd gathered, with much looking, speculating and theory-thrashing. In one of the photos in the gallery, someone with a movie camera showed up, probably from KFVS-TV.

Photo Gallery of the Big Tire Crash

Include are all of the shots taken in 1965, plus contemporary photos of the neighborhood in 2009. Click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left or right side to move through the gallery.

Third Graders Measure Up

On the same Missourian Youth Page as the Tucker Lamkin kindergarten aide story, I had two photos of Campus School third graders “measuring up.” They were applying arithmetic facts to everyday life.

Here’s the caption that appeared under the May 6, 1967, photo: At left, working with measures of liquid capacity, are: John, son of Mr. and Mrs. John Schneider, 2522 Meadow Lane, and Susan, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. James McHaney, 1425 Bessie; time, Elizabeth, daughter of Mrs. Bobbie Henderson, 1453 Howell, and Melinda, daughter of  Mrs. Morley Swingle; and, solid volume, Debra, daughter of  Mr. and Mrs. L. Edgar Massey, 564 North Boulevard, and Lyn, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. W. A. Williams, 1235 Normal.

I hated shooting school feature photos (except for the five bucks). You can see what a hassle it was to get not just the names of the kids, but their parents and their addresses, too. Can you imagine what that would be like in today’s blended family environment?

At least this assignment had some neat props. The killers were ones where all the class did was make a poster or a bulletin board. Deadly dull.

Rulers, yardsticks and scales

The photo caption read: Learning about rulers, yardsticks and scales are Stuart, son of Mr. and Mrs. Don Caldwell, 372 North Park; Kathleen, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. C. E. Williams, 336 North Lorimier; Susan, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Donald Barklage, 2427 Brookwood; Martha, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Glenn Walker, 1235 Sailer Circle; Scott, son of Mr. and Mrs. Fred Friedricksen, 535 North Sprigg; and Stephen, son of Dr. and Mrs. Bryce D. March, Kage Road.

Judy Crow captured good quotes

Staff Writer Judy Crow captured some good quotes from the children. You can find her story about the third graders at this link.

Some Missourian reporters resented having to do school features and asked me to leave their bylines off them. I have a testy memo from Judy where she wrote that she took the school assignments seriously and lobbied me to keep putting the bylines on the stories to shame the others into doing a good job.

I sure didn’t want to get on Judy’s bad side, so I heeded her wishes.