Photos around Cape Archives

May 18, 2014

Last Gasp of Missouri

Almost every visit I shoot a series of photos when I first hit the Bill Emerson Memorial Bridge leaving Illinois for Missouri, and a series when head back out of the state. (Click on the photo to make it larger.)

No, I don’t shoot and drive at the same time. I adjust the polarizing filter and exposure long before I get to the bridge, set the zoom on a medium length and just balance the camera on the steering wheel with one hand. I shift the angle after I see the image that pops up on the LCD display on the camera’s back. It’s a matter of luck, not particularly skill.

The little green sign on the right side of the frame, just at the crest of the bridge, tells me I’m leaving the Show Me state and entering Illinois.

See you again in the summer.

[Editor’s Note: I’m doing a quick post because I have to get up before the chickens to take Curator Jessica on an airboat ride in the Everglades. I tried to discourage her by describing what would happen if the airplane propeller behind her back broke loose if the boat hit a snag at high speed: she’d turn into a pink spray the gators could suck down with a straw. Ohio Gal thinks I’m kidding, but wait until she sees it.]

May 9, 2014May 9, 2014

Old Windmill Funland

There’s another empty lot in Cape Girardeau: a building that was set on fire by a disgruntled employee in November 2011 was finally torn down this February. It was located at 1707 North Mount Auburn Road, near the intersection with North Kingshighway.

We oldtimers remember that area as the site of the Windmill Drive-In or the Windmill Funland. We used to go down the hill from Kingsway Drive for ice-cold watermelon. I don’t remember much about Funland, which featured childrens’ rides, go-kart track, go-cart rentals and a miniature golf course.

Fred Lynch’s blog has the windmill in the background of a Frony photo.

May 7, 2014

Ernie’s Earth Science Book

I’ve written many times about Earth Science Teacher Ernie Chiles and the friendship we developed outside of class. He interacted with students in a way that would be unthinkable today, but that’s what made him one of the most memorable teachers I had.

To keep from rehashing old stories, I’ll just post links:

Ernie was so green, Pam Taveggia remembers, “that we didn’t know whether to love him or take advantage of him, so I guess we did both.” The first time he took her flying, he let her handle the controls. “Such a joyous, beautiful, completely new adventure for me! This is it! I wanted to be an airline pilot. My lessons from my Earth Science teacher were some I have never forgotten. I didn’t get to become an airline pilot, but I DID get to become a teacher who cared about my students. I had learned by the best example.”
Ernie taught me how to drive. I made it about 150 yards before I crashed into the side of a bridge.
Ernie and I went flying 48 years to the day after I took my first newspaper photo.
The water barometer experiment (subtitled “Watching Ernie Squirm).

When we met for lunch this trip, Ernie presented me the actual Earth Science book he used to teach the class. I told him to play Vanna White or pretend he was selling soap so I could take his picture with it. He may have a shot at making it in the late-night infomercial game.

He even inscribed it

Jim Stone, George Cauble and I set a goal of acing all of Ernie’s tests. We’d get together in my basement to review and practically memorize the book the night before a quiz. Ernie, for his part, took the challenge and decided to make tests so hard they couldn’t be aced. You can imagine what THAT did to the curve.

Jim Stone and I are still arguing with him over a couple of questions he marked wrong.

Who did all the underlining?

When I leafed through the book, I noted that almost every sentence was underlined.

“Geez, didn’t they give you a new book when you started teaching? Who did all the underlines?”

“I did,” he admitted. “You guys thought I was kidding when I said I was only about a chapter ahead of you when I was teaching the class.”

We couldn’t go flying

We couldn’t go flying the last time I was in town because Ernie’s plane had a broken perambulator or something.

It’s perambulating fine now, but there had been a lot of rain around Painton Airport where he hangars the plane. That made the grass runway a bit iffy. I had hoped to get in the air before the leaves came out, but since I had missed that, we decided to err on the side of caution and wait until summer to go up.

Stone is going to be SOOOOO jealous when he hears I have The Book.

May 6, 2014

Dino’s Pizza is Doomed

On the way down Broadway, I spotted Dino’s Pizza and recalled seeing a story in The Missourian that the building had been bought by the university and was going to be torn down. The April 28, 2014, Business Notebook said asbestos abatement would begin in the next few weeks, and demolition of the building would start the week of May 19. The property will be seeded and become green space, the university told The Missourian.

Building badly damaged by fire

The Missourian reported on August 11, 2011, that Dino’s Pizza at 1034 Broadway was heavily damaged by an early morning fire on August 10. Investigators thought it was an electrical fire. Two cats were removed from the building, but they died of smoke inhalation.

The building was condemned by the city a month after the fire. The Missourian reported that Owner Kostas “Gus” Demopoulos said the building will be demolished, but as of right now, he intends to rebuild. According to the condemnation notice, he will have 30 days after Sept. 25 to either repair or demolish building.

As you can see, the 30 days managed to drag out almost three years.

Nicholas Demopoulos died Feb. 5, 2011

I never had a Dino’s pizza so far as I know. Our family always headed to Tony’s Pizza Palace across from the Rialto Theater.

What I didn’t know until I read his obit was that Nicholas Demopoulos, who took over ownership of Dino’s, had been a pizza cook at Tony’s when he and his family came to Cape Girardeau from Greece in 1969. He had quite an interesting life.

Click on the photos to make the disappearing Cape landmark larger.