Buried Treasure in Capaha Park

My Mother and I were cruising around town knocking off a list of photos that folks had requested. I wanted to get some shots of the pool at Capaha Park and the filled-in pool that preceded it.

While I was shooting the pool, I noticed a guy with a metal detector walking around. When he dropped to one knee and started gouging in the dirt, I went down to talk with him.

“I lost a quarter here in 1957”

When I caught up with him, I said, “I lost a quarter around here in 1957. I think it fell heads-up, so if you find one, it’s probably mine.”

“Well, if you lost it in 1957, it’s a pretty sure bet that it’s made out of silver,” he said, trying to scoop dirt out from under a root.

The fellow was Ron Ethridge, who drove a KAS potato chip truck for some 30-odd years. After he retired from that job, he worked a few other places in Cape, including St. Vincent de Paul for 12 years.

When I mentioned that I was a refugee from The Southeast Missourian, he said, “Then you must know Ray Owen. He and I were buddies over in Cairo.” I told him that I not only knew Ray, but had gone to school with his wife, Sally Wright Owen, Class of 1965.

“That Sally’s a fine gal,” he observed.

Ron started prospecting in the 70s

He celebrated his 69th birthday yesterday. “Climbing up and down in those trucks kept me in pretty good shape.

He admitted, a little sheepishly, that he had recently racked up his knee by slipping on, of all things, a banana peel.

He’s found a few gold pieces and a lot of silver coin over the years – mostly around Cairo. The main value is that it gives him something to do, some exercise and a chance to meet crazy characters who want him to find quarters that went missing in 1957.

There’s more than one Ron around. We saw another fellow with a metal detector working in the Red Star area an hour or so earlier.

Cape Rock, Old and New

The railroad changed Cape Rock

Cape Girardot or Girardeau, founded on Cape Rock, was once an actual cape (a strip of land projecting into a body of water). Sometime in the early 1900s, it was decided that a railroad was more valuable than some rocks sticking 0ut into the Mississippi River, so the promontory was cut to allow tracks to be laid.

The feat was accomplished in time for trains to be able to journey to the World’s Fair in St. Louis in 1904.

This string of rail cars loaded with coal was parked on a siding March 15, 2010, when I drove down to see how high the river was rising. This is looking south from the small parking area on the north side of Cape Rock. Cape Rock is on the right.

View to the north

This shows the track curving to the north, in the direction of Twin Trees Park. The 2009 Tour of Missouri passed by here last summer.

Cape Rock in the Fall

It’s pretty easy to see why Louis Lorimier decided to move Cape Girardeau a couple of miles to the south where the land was flatter. This was taken on a beautiful late October afternoon in 2009. One piece of bad news: there’s a sign that says the park is closed from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m.

Cape Rock mystery

Here’s a photo of some unidentified students with the Cape Rock monument taken sometime in the late 60s. There was nothing written on the film envelope, so I’m open to guesses.

The photo was shot with flash, so it must have been taken late in the day (I don’t do EARLY in the day if I have a choice). They’re wearing short-sleeved shirts and a couple of them have on shorts, so it’s warm weather or they’re a hardy bunch.

They’re doing that photographer-directed, stare at this rock and pretend to be fascinated thing, so something that passes as news is probably being committed here.

Anybody here know these folks?

Cape Bridge at Night

When I didn’t know what else to do, I’d head down to the river to try for a different shot of the bridge. This is a time exposure taken from the Illinois side looking back toward Cape.

The car and truck lights show up as streaks.

Trust me, this will NOT be the last bridge picture you see.

Wib’s BBQ in Jackson, MO

Five Generations of Steinhoffs have eaten at Wib’s BBQ Drive-In

Jackson’s Wib’s BBQ Drive-in was born in 1947, the same year I was. I don’t think my parents took me straight from St. Francis Hospital in Cape to Wib’s, but my grandson, Malcolm, was still in diapers when he made his first pilgrimage to the Mecca of Meat.

When we were in Cape last fall, I managed to make four visits to the place, much to my mother’s chagrin. On the last visit, I ordered six Brown Hots to Fed-Ex back home to Son Matt, D-in-Law Sarah and Kid Malcolm.

Some folks have tried to pack them in dry ice, we’ve found that’s not necessary.

We pick up half a dozen Brown Hots, unwrap them until they cool down (to keep them from getting soggy), put each sandwich in an individual Ziploc bag, then Fed-Ex them overnight to. Heat ’em up and they’re good to go. Haven’t had anybody die on us yet….

We’re pretty sure that at least five generations of my family have eaten at Wib’s.

I spent more time at Wib’s than Wimpy’s

While most of my classmates were hanging out at Wimpy’s and Pfisters, I practically lived at Wib’s when I was working for The Jackson Pioneer in the mid-60s.

The sandwiches were cheap, the waitresses were cute and they made the best shakes in town. (Unfortunately, they quit making shakes several years ago and the wonderful homemade pies are history, too.)

The waitresses are still cute

Best of all, it was located just down the road from the newspaper and courthouse and almost right next to a small park with a municipal swimming pool that was a great source of wild art.

(Nah, Jackson wasn’t THAT wild. Wild art is newspaperspeak for pictures that can run without a story. Think cute kids and animals.)

What’s special about the BBQ?

I don’t know. My mother claims that no pigs are hurt in the making of the sandwiches, and I have to concede that they are a little light on meat.

On the other hand, what’s there is nicely smoked and touched off with a peppery sauce that doesn’t overwhelm the taste of the meat. If you order a Brown Hot (the brown, outside, smokier part of the shoulder) with hot sauce, you’d better have a drink handy.

Meat is hickory-smoked

A short history of Wib’s is printed on the back of the menu. It was founded by Wib Lohman, who had a trucking company. He started out selling barbecue sandwiches to his drivers.

The original smoker used hickory and nothing has changed.

I took this picture of a robin stealing string out of a mop propped up against a stack of Pepsi crates next to some of the hickory used for smoking the meat on April 13, 1967. The next day, The Missourian ran the photo (or one similar to it) with a long, nonsensical story that was uncharacterstic of the paper. (Follow the link at your own risk.)

The piece didn’t have a credit line, but I assure you that I did not write it.

I can only assume that

  • Editor John Blue was out of town.
  • It was an extremely slow news day.

Note that the Pepsi crates have “Capaha” printed on them. I wonder if that means that they were bottled in Cape or the surrounding area. I know Cape had a Coke bottling plant on Broadway, but I’m not sure about Pepsi.

The outside doesn’t look like much

It’s just a concrete block building painted white. There’s plenty of parking and a walk-up area on one side. The front door was always notoriously hard to open, but that was solved when a local teenager ran into the front of the building June 17, 2008, doing about $25,000 in damage.

He fessed up to his parents and restitution was made. The front windows were changed to deeper ones and the balky front door was replaced.

One wag remarked, “That poor kid will have to leave town. He’s going to be known as the boy who drove into Wib’s for the rest of his life.”

Wib sold Wib’s to the Hoffmeisters in 1948

Wib Lohman got tired of running a seven-day-a-week, 6 a.m. to 1 a.m. business and sold it to Jack and Sweetie Hoffmeister, who ran it until 1972, when it passed on to A.D. Hoffman.

The Hoffmans own it now

It stayed in the Hoffman family when A.D.’s son and his wife took it over in 1986.

Wib’s opens at 8:30 a.m. (mostly for coffee drinkers; they usually sell less than 10 sandwiches before 11 a.m.) and stays open until 6:45 p.m. Tuesday through Friday. Saturday they’re open 9 – 6:45. They’re closed Sundays and Mondays.

Prime time is the lunch rush when about 300 sandwiches are served.

Wib’s has a Facebook Fan Page

In the Old Days, the place had four car hops to handle drive-up orders. These days, if you don’t want to eat inside,  you can go inside to a walk-up window to place your to-go order.

Every kid in Jackson must have worked there at one time or another. Many started in high school and continued through college. At least one couple met while working at Wib’s and the proposal took place in the parking lot.

Wib’s even has a Facebook Fan area with over 800 members.