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River’s Going Down

When Buddy Shari and I tried to visit Wittenberg June 27, we encountered a sign that read “Road Closed.”

“Only one lane is closed,” I assured her as I dodged around the sign.

When we hit a sign that warned, “Road under water 500 feet,” I said, “We don’t have to worry for 499 feet.”

When we got to where the photo was taken, I said, “Looks like it’s only a couple of feet deep. We should be able to make it.”

“Let me out here,” she said.

“See, that’s the difference between you and my mother. Mother would say, ‘back up about a hundred feet and get a run at it.”

Muddy and dusty today

The road was passable today. I went down to Frog Town (once a Wittenberg suburb) where the old train depot was. The gravel road was a little wet in some spots and would kick up dust in others. There’s a general coating of dried mud over everything.

Broadway floodgate open

The river’s still high enough that the Themis floodgate is closed. The Broadway gate, which is on higher ground, was open July 13 and lots of people were taking advantage of it. What’s really nice is that folks become friendlier as soon as they step onto the riverfront. It’s easy to strike up a conversation with perfect strangers. Even the dog gave me a welcome slurp when I held out my hand.

I used to dislike the floodwall because it blocked the view of the river. I’ve grown to appreciate it because, on the other hand, it also blocks out the noise and bustle of the city, creating a quiet space where you can listen to the water going by or have a pleasant conversation.

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Bird’s Point Levee July 2011

I was working on a project that sent me on a wild goose chase to Wilson City, east of Charleston and west of Cairo off U.S. 62. Had the bridge not been closed, I could have been in Cairo in less than 10 miles. Mother was along for the ride, so I told her we should go down to see Bird’s Point since we were so close. I plugged it into the GPS and we were off on an adventure.

As best I can piece together, we came off 62 on Mississippi County Route 301, drove until we saw some work being done in the distance on the levee, but decided not to ignore the signs warning us to keep out. We kept on CR301 until it hit CR302, then went up on the levee, which was called CR 303. Along the way, we saw some signs that water had been in that area, but we also saw lots of freshly-planted fields. Click on any photo to make it larger.

Old remains found

I’m guessing the road was closed because old remains had been found along one section of the levee. The Missourian reported that the Osage Nation American Indian tribe has been involved in the investigation, leading to the assumption that the bones and relics were part of a native tribal settlement. The Department of Natural Resources has put a blackout on news of the finds at the request of the Native American tribes involved in order to protect the site from looters.

Remaining water is bird paradise

We saw scores of wading birds taking advantage of the fish trapped in water left behind after the flood.

Fields are turning green

Despite dire predictions that the fields would be ruined for decades, we saw plenty of evidence that farmers were able to plant a lot of crops as soon as the fields dried out. In fairness, we only saw a tiny fraction of the land that had been flooded. I’m sure there ARE parts that have been turned into moonscape and are buried under huge deposits of sand. My point is that not ALL of the land has been ruined.

Scour area is impressive

CR 303, the levee road, ended abruptly at one of the places it was breached. The massive flow of water gouged deep holes in the ground. My van parked atop the levee will give you a sense of scale. I’m guessing the levee is about 15 feet above surrounding terrain. The bluff in the foreground are 15 or 20 feet below that, and I don’t know how deep the water is in the pit.

View behind me

As impressive as that is, if you turn 180 degrees and look the other direction, the fields are clear and have been planted. I don’t know how much work it took to get them into that condition, but looking at the gouged earth without looking at the planted fields will give you the wrong impression, and vice versa.

Equipment at the ready

I don’t know if this equipment belongs to farmers or if it’s there to repair the levee. I didn’t want to interfere with whatever work they were doing, so I didn’t go down to ask.

Gallery of Bird’s Point photos

Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right to move through the gallery.

 

 

 

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Sikeston’s 1st Methodist Church Columns

I had about 20 minutes to kill before a meeting in Sikeston Monday, so Mother and I cruised through the downtown area. I saw the railroad tracks had been torn up (too bad they didn’t turn the right of way into a rails-to-trails) and the train depot turned into a nice museum. Just to the north of the main drag, I saw some stone columns sticking up.

“Those were a real big deal,” Mother said. Some big, old church burned down and they salvaged the columns as a memorial, she elaborated.

Church dedicated in 1912; burned in 1968

I couldn’t find much information on the columns beyond a plaque on the north side that said the First Methodist Church was dedicated in 1912 and was destroyed by fire in 1968. The columns were restored by the the Vandivort family in memory of Rosemary P. Vandivort.

Google came up short and The Sikeston Standard Democrat didn’t have much beyond a few Out of the Past columns that said the fire was in March of 1968. Somebody else is going to have to fill in the blanks.

Sikeston – Cape were debate rivals

I came into town last fall just in time to cover my first Central High School football game in 40-some years, the clash between unbeaten Cape and Sikeston. I sure hope I wasn’t the jinx that caused Central’s 21-0 loss.

In our day, Jackson was the school to beat, particularly in football. I don’t recall Sikeston being a big athletic rival, but I could be wrong.

In debate, though, Sikeston was a worthy opponent, maybe not feared, but respected. Most of the smaller schools around Cape didn’t have the depth of talent to draw from nor coaches like Ruby Davis and Calvin Chapman. Sikeston, on the other hand, had good debaters and good coaches.

One of the most popular Sikeston debaters was John “Doc” Carpenter, who was also active in Scouts and Order of the Arrow.  He was a bright guy who always seemed mature beyond his age. I published a photo of him working a wreck with Walter Joe Ford when I reviewed Jerry Ford’s book The Gordonville Grove: Tombstones, Tambourines, & Tammany Hall. (Now in its third printing and available at Amazon by clicking that link). “Doc” went on to become Cape County coroner. He died of colon cancer in 2000.

Even though the schools were fierce competitors in individual events, they would work together at things like the Jefferson City Student Congress, forming alliances to get bills passed and to get their students elected to prestigious positions. We Swampeast Missourians enjoyed beating out the bigger schools in the state.

 

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Dexter’s Corner Stop Cafe

I’ve spent the past two days trying to find some folks I shot in New Madrid 44 years ago. It’s a long, hot story that we’ll cover later. My quest today took me to Sikeston, which isn’t far from Dexter. I managed to convince Mother that riding around with me was more fun that mowing the lawn when the heat index is 114 (she was mowing the lawn, not me). This is a mowing photo taken several years ago in Dutchtown to show her style.

Madeline DeJournett, Advance reporter and avid reader of this blog, has been touting a new restaurant in Dexter called the Mediterranean Steak House “on Locust, south of the Ben Franklin store.” That’s the way you give directions when you live in a small town. There’s no way to enter that in my GPS, so we got quite a tour of Dexter.

Dexter provided an education

I remember Dexter well. Jim Kirkwood and I got to help build Hwy 60 going through the town the summer that our two dads, L.V. Steinhoff and James Kirkwood of Steinhoff & Kirkwood, decided that we should learn the value of education. They wanted to get us smart enough NOT to do what they did for a living. I kept looking for a landmark that would help me find the stretch of road we helped pour, but it’s changed a lot.

Anyway, at 33 minutes past Hungry o’clock, we pulled up in front of the steak house. It was closed on Monday. We went back to the main drag and passed predictable fast food joints.

Corner Stop Cafe

I thought I remembered see a small local diner just up the street from the steak house, so we headed back down Locust, past the Ben Franklin store, until we came to the Corner Stop Cafe. There were a few cars around it, it looked clean and it looked new, so we decided to give it a shot.

As soon as we opened the door, I felt right at home: a voice said, “Watch your step.” I’ve been getting that advice for years, but then I looked down and saw that you had to step down to get into the restaurant. We apologized for showing up at closing time, but our server, who turned out to be the owner, was gracious. I asked for advice and Phyllis Kull said that she sells about 500 of their “Nothing Like It Chicken” a week, so it must be good.

The menu described it as “Chicken salad, cranberry, smoked Gouda cheese and Granny Smith apples slices, served on Texas toast.” All of that, plus a side (some great potato salad) for six bucks. My foodie friend, Jan Norris would have taken a photo of the plate, but I had more important things in mind – finishing it off so I could have some strawberry pie. Mother had a bacon quiche (hold the bacon) with toast and a generous serving of fresh fruit. They forgot to hold the bacon, but it was served on top, so I got it and pronounced it excellent.

I apologize to Phyllis for sticking her outside where the lighting was so harsh. She’s much more attractive than the picture would lead you to believe.

Mural done by local artist

The inside of the cafe is attractive, without being cutesy. The mural, a work in progress, is being done by a local artist. Phyllis is from Colorado. Her husband, Alan, has family in the area, so they wanted to move closer to them. They opened the place March 16, 2010, and have been doing well. “Dexter is a great community. We’ve been blessed.” One of the customers when we walked in was the mayor, she said.

I normally avoid sweet tea, but they had it just right. After being out in the hot sun, I downed three glasses of it. I told Phyllis that I had been shooting in a church in New Madrid Sunday when it was equally as hot. “When the preacher started talking about hell, fire and brimstone,” I said, “I jumped to my feet and shouted, ‘Thank you, Jesus, for bringing us some relief.’ At first I thought I might not have that testifying thing figured out exactly right, but an old man in the back row hollered, ‘AMEN,’ so I guess I did OK.”

Mother, who normally takes everything with a grain of salt, looked at me in horror and said, “You DIDN’T?” For once, I couldn’t milk it for all it was worth. I had to tell her I was kidding.

How was the pie?

I ordered the strawberry and Mother had the blackberry. They used fresh fruit, but the filling was a Jello-style that I’m not really fond of. It was good, but not my favorite. Of the two, I liked the blackberry better. The actual, non-Madeline-style address is 5 South Locust, Dexter, Mo.

I’m not sorry the steak house was closed. This place is a great find: good food in good quantities, served by some nice people. I sure wish they were in Cape and West Palm Beach.

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