Cape Girardeau History and Photos

September 23, 2013September 23, 2013

Mary Z. Reed: Gentle Soul

Mary Z. Reed was at Central High School when Dad was a student.

When I ran photos of the teachers who bridged the generations, Bill East remembered Miss Reed, “I’m sure anyone who knew her remembers her affection for trees. It may be apocryphal, but supposedly at the beginning of the year, she always asked students what they did during the summer. As the story goes, there was always one guy who said he was a lumberjack to upset her. I guess she was one of the original ‘tree huggers.’”

Bill and Miss Reed have both graduated to The Other Side, so she’ll be able to give him his bonus points for using the word “apocryphal” in a sentence in person.

Alene Sadler “most influential”

We were blessed with some excellent English teachers at Central. Miss Alene Sadler was one of the most demanding teachers I ever had – in college or high school – but she was rated “most influential” by her students in their later years.

Miss Reed was less intimidating, but she was still able to convey her passion for language and literature to her uncouth and uncivilized students. I bet even the “lumberjack” felt bad by the end of the semester.

September 22, 2013

Mad Men of CHS

For better or worse, for once I can identify all of the people in a photo.

Steve Folsom, son of journalism teacher Betty Folsom, is reading Mad Magazine. He possessed the most unique set of eyebrows at Central High School.

I dated one of his twin sisters, Linda, briefly. (The briefly part was her choice, as I recall.) She and sister Laura weren’t THAT hard to tell apart once you got to know them, but they played the Twin Game the first night I went to pick up my date. Her grandfather, standing behind them, took pity on me and quietly pointed to the right one.

Al Spradling III is next. He was a Tiger business manager.

The next two characters were my debate partners at one time or another. John Mueller and I had an undefeated season my freshman year.You can see other photos of John here.

Pat Sommers, at far right, had a propensity to declare himself Number One in almost every photo I took of him. He is a little more dignified these days. Actually, now that I think of it, I DID shoot a picture of him wearing a tie at a basketball game.

You can click on the photo to make it larger, but that’ll just show up all the dust spots I didn’t bother to retouch out.

September 21, 2013

1967 Girardot Queen

I wonder if I smelled like smoke at the dance? This shot of the queen and her court was on the same roll as the fatal fire I mentioned yesterday and another fire at Dearmont Hall at SEMO. (You’ll hear more about that one later. It was there I asked one of the dumbest questions of my career.)

Here are the names as found in The Missourian caption on the September 21,1967, Youth Page: Miss Mary Hirsch, center, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Hirsch, 1855 Thilenius, was crowned Central High School Girardot Queen at ceremonies last Friday in the school gymnasium. Her attendants are, from left, Miss Holly Lueders, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Lueders, 1115 North Henderson; Miss Jane Dunklin, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Maurice T. Dunklin, 839 Alta Vista; Miss Georganne Penzel, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Penzel, 1844 Thilenius, and Miss Debby Holland, daughter of the Rev. and Mrs. W.T. Holland, 2221 Brookwood.

September 20, 2013

A Smell You Don’t Forget

It was time for my biannual body inventory at the dermatologist this morning. I had a hunk of skin cancer hacked off my face a few years ago, so I’m supposed to go back for inspection once or twice a year.

(When I showed up at the office with a huge bandage on my face back then, I answered the inevitable question by saying, “I was just sitting there minding my own business when this gang wearing masks and gloves surrounded me demanding money for drugs. Even though I paid off, they cut me anyway.” Well, it WAS true, kind of.)

After a bunch of uh-huhs and some picture taking of various and sundry body parts, he froze some places, scraped some places and sliced away at some others.

When he hit a couple of spots with a cauterizing iron, I commented, “That’s a smell I’ve never forgotten. The first fatal fire I worked was a guy who fell asleep with a cigarette smouldering in a feather bed.”

I could tell by the expression on his assistant’s face that’s not a comment she hears every day.

Just by the luck of the draw, I was scanning a queen crowning tonight when I found that fire on the same roll of film. I’m not going to provide a link to the story or any details except to say that the guy in the white jacket on the right is coroner Don Kremer. The remains of the featherbed are scattered all over the yard.

I hadn’t turned 20 yet

That wasn’t the last smoking-in-bed fatal I encountered, but it’s the one I flash back to.

I just looked at the file date on the film. I hadn’t turned 20 years old yet. That’s a long time to hold onto a memory.