Photos around Cape Archives

August 25, 2015

Weeds and Windshields

I was blasting down State Route C on the way to Cape from Altenburg when I noticed tall stalks of what I took to be corn in the middle of what I think is soybeans (my farm knowledge is somewhere between erroneous and inadequate).

Traffic on C can move pretty fast, so I turned right onto 516 at New Wells, and took the next right onto 517, which put me on a little-traveled road on the backside of my field. There was a cornfield on the driver’s side of the car.

It was from there that the errant corn must have escaped. Or, maybe the farmer hadn’t cleaned his equipment off when moving from field to field. Or, maybe a bird dropped the seed. Who knows?

What is a weed?

Funny what sticks with you from grade school. The teacher asked the class if they could say what a weed was.

The answer was predictable: dandelion, crab grass, ragweed, Jimson weed…

“How about an oak?” the teacher asked.

“No, an oak is a tree. It’s not a weed,” the class protested.

“A weed,” the teacher explained, “is a wild plant growing where it is not wanted and in competition with cultivated plants. So, wouldn’t you consider an oak tree in the middle of a wheat field to be a weed?”

She had us there

So, somewhere back at Trinity Lutheran School, in the middle of the 20th Century, the seed of a weed oak tree was planted in my head.

You can click on the photo to make it larger. I’m sure somebody out there will tell me that that’s not corn in a soybean patch, that’s really a radish popping up in a field of rutabagas.

August 25, 2015

Lyndon Moore of Bloomfield

Last year about this time, I met Lyndon Moore at his exhibit of tools at the Altenburg Lutheran Heritage Center and Museum. Not only did he have a fabulous collection of vintage tools, he could tell you in minute detail every factoid related to them. The guy is also a natural storyteller.

Dropped in on him

He made the mistake of saying, “If you’re ever down in Bloomfield, stop by.” I was IN Bloomfield on Monday and decided to take him up on his offer. With careful turn-by-turn directions over the cell phone by his wife, Margaret, I managed to find his shop on the outskirts of town.

As soon as he sat down, a dog the size of a small pony hopped up on top of him. Lyndon said the 7-year-old got accustomed to being a lapdog when he was a puppy and never gave up the habit when his paws got almost as big as my hands.

Travel all over the country

The couple are on the road all the time (along with their dogs) looking for more tools to add to their collection.They’re headed off to Indiana next.

They are leaning on their drivable 1915 Model T. It’s not a restoration, Lyndon said. Most of the parts are original.

Driving was an art

Looking down at the floorboard, I noted three pedals: “Gas, brake and clutch?” I hazarded?

Not even close. The throttle was a lever on the steering column that looked like a turn signal. The pedals, in conjunction with the emergency brake handle and used in a mystifying combination would allow you to start, stop, go forward in two speeds, and back up. They could do 30 to 40 mph if the roads permitted, but few were that good.

Lefthanders had fewer broken arms

Lefthanders like Lyndon had an advantage. They were less likely to wind up with a broken arm if the engine kicked back when it was being hand-cranked.

The 1915 model had some major advances, like electric lights and an electric horn. Just to be safe, though, they kept the kerosene lights for backup.

I could have spent all afternoon with the Moores, but I had other folks to annoy.

August 24, 2015

324 William Street

I’ve always wondered about this house at 324 William Street. It was right on the border of Happy Hollow and just down the street from Louis Houck’s railroad overpasses. It’s nice to see that it looks like it has been spiffed up a bit lately.

Not much in the paper

A quick search of The Missourian’s archives didn’t turn up much. There have been some minor police blotter entries in recent years, but these are the only two stories I could find from “back when.”

July 6, 1937 – Mr. and Mrs. J.E. Fox and Mr. and Mrs. Harry Converse of Granite City, Ill., spent the weekend with Mr. and Mrs. Jimmie Seabaugh and Mr. and Mrs. Roy Eifert, 324 William Street. They came Saturday and returned Monday night. Mr. and Mrs. Fox and Mr. and Mrs. Seabaugh together celebrated wedding anniversaries Monday, the former having been married one month, and the latter, one year. Before her marriage, Mrs. Fox was Miss Arline Chippio of Granite City. Mrs. Seabaugh was formerly Miss Golda McCart of this city.
August 6, 1945 – Mr. and Mrs. Stein Hinton of Flint, Mich., arrived Saturday to spend two weeks with his mother, Mrs. H. H. Hinton, 22 North Lorimier street, and her sisters, Mrs. Lester Groves, 324 William street, and Mrs. Richard Hargraves of Sturdivant, and her brother, Jack Morton of Advance.

August 19, 2015

That Dammed Sprigg Street Sinkhole

I always take a run down check out the cement plant quarry, but the trip takes a little longer now that Sprigg is closed at Cape LaCroix Creek due to a persistent sinkhole. In the 2011 flood, water under pressure from the river followed cracks and almost filled the quarry.

Sinkhole swallowed water lines

Mother Earth was hungry for Cape’s infrastructure.

The Southeast Missourian had a story by Samantha Rinehart on August 18, 2015, that reported the Cape city council had approved allowing crews to begin the design and construction phase of building a bridge that will span the sinkhole area. The cost had lots of commas and zeroes.

Upstream dam

When I went there on July 19, I was surprised to see a dam upstream of the bridge to keep Cape LaCroix Creek from flowing into the sinkhole area. A fairly strong thunderstorm had moved through over the past couple of days, so I wondered where all that water had gone.

Dam to keep Mississippi out

There was a corresponding dam on the other side to keep the flooding Mississippi out. I didn’t have any desire to have my shoes sucked off wading through gumbo, so I elected to wait for a dryer day to explore.

Lohmann Fixture Company

By August 17, it was dry enough to check out the Mississippi River dam. The white building sticking up in the background is the old Lohmann Fixture Company.

1929 railroad bridge

The river was back to its normal levels, so nothing was lapping up against it. The black pipe off to the right must have been how the water from upstream got past the sinkhole area. I have a hard time believing a 10 or 12-inch pipe could handle the volume of water dumped by the last rainstorm, but it must have. The railroad bridge in the photo was built in 1929.

No KKK and swastika in 2010

When I shot the 1929 railroad bridge in 2010, it didn’t sport the KKK and swastika that it does here.