Mark Steinhoff Archives

April 23, 2015

Heislers’ Heifer Highway

Brothers David and Mark and I were talking about families who have lived on Kingsway Drive over the years. The Hales had a farm on the right side of the road as you were heading toward Jackson. Their pasture was right behind our house.

They were good about giving me permission to camp out in the hill behind us. It was far enough away that my buddies and I thought it was a big deal, but it was close enough that Mother and Dad could look out the window to see if we had set our tent on fire.

Where did the Heisler cows graze?

The Hale barn was on the same side as their pasture, so I knew where their cows grazed, but where did the Heisler cows, with a barn on the left side of the road, munch grass?

Mark said they grazed across the highway, where the Osage Center is today. When Highway 61 was widened, the state put in a culvert that both drained the area and let the cows go from the barn to the pasture.

Based on the vintage aerial, I would say that the cow culvert would be approximately where it looks like Cape Splash is expanding. I was tight on time and there was some orange plastic fencing blocking off the area, so I can’t swear the culvert is gone, but I didn’t see it.

Of course, Mark COULD have been pulling our collective legs. He has been known to do that.

April 22, 2015

Why Weren’t We Killed?

Looking at this photo from Steve McKeown’s collection of his dad’s old family photos made me think of the red Radio Flyer wagon Brothers Mark and David and our buddies used to streak down Kingsway Drive.

Our wagon had a tongue which folded back so a rider could steer the wagon, unlike the rope contraption in the photo.

We trudged up the hill time after time for a 45-second ride down from in front of 1618 Kingsway Drive to the fishhook-shaped J-curve at the bottom.

A physics lesson

We discovered the elemental law of physics that heavy objects at the top of the hill have lots of potential energy that gradually bleeds off by the bottom.That was the advantage of loading up the wagon with brothers and buddies. It also meant you had people to help pull it back up to the launch site. The brothers, unfortunately, would frequently beg off, saying they were “too tired” to walk back up the hill, leaving us to pull them AND the wagon back. It was amazing how their tiredness went away when it was time for another run.

Too often, the blast to the bottom would be interrupted by the cry of “CAR!!!” that would result in the tongue being abruptly twisted in whatever direction would throw us off into a ditch for safety.

Check out the socks

This wasn’t a generation of white sock wearers. Looks like Mom must have bought his jeans with the idea that he’d grow into them, and until he did, then rolling up the cuffs would keep them from dragging in the dirt.

Looks like his shoes are holding up well. I had a lot of pairs that had been half-soled. Late in grade school days, I would nail “taps,” onto the heel. Ostensibly they were to keep your heels from wearing down, but the real reason for putting them on was to make a cool noise when you walked the hallways in school. They came in various sizes – from tiny to huge horseshoe-shaped ones that were suitable for clogging.

The coolness factor was negated if you happened to hit a slick patch of floor that would cause your legs to spread apart like a guy with one leg in the boat and one on the dock.

February 27, 2015February 24, 2021

The Circle Grows Smaller

Mother called with shocking, though not totally unexpected news: Katy Proctor, one of her closest friends had died. She and her husband had been in ill health some time, but Mother and Katy still talked and visited fairly frequently.

In 2001, Brother Mark and I surprised Mother by renting a couple of stretch limos and taking her and her friends to a birthday dinner. We planned it for a month before her actual birthday so she wouldn’t expect anything. Katy and her husband, Woody, were part of the crowd.

The group decided they wanted to see and be seen in their limos. As they cruised down Broadway, throngs of people lined the street, and she thought that maybe the whole town had turned out to celebrate her birthday. It was actually spectators showing up for the SEMO Homecoming parade, but, what the heck.

There was some discussion about mooning the crowd, but the folks in MY limo were talked out of it. I can’t testify as to the behavior of the rowdy senior citizens in the other car.

Unfortunately, most of the people in this photo are no longer with us, something that makes Mother feel increasingly more isolated.

Katy’s obituary

Kathryn Revelle (Katy) Proctor passed away on Feb 24 2015 at Assisted Living West at the Lutheran Home. She was born on November 23, 1920 at Hickory Ridge, Missouri to Melvin and Chlora McNeely Revelle. She grew up in Delta and graduated from Delta High School. She married Woodrow Proctor on June 7, 1941 at Oran, Missouri. They lived at Chaffee until 1964 when they moved to Cape Girardeau. She was cafeteria manager at Franklin School for 22 years. After her retirement she worked at Mothers Day Out at Lynwood Baptist church many years and volunteered at the Fish Food Pantry and SE Hospital Auxillary.

She is survived by her husband of 73 years, Woodrow Proctor, a son, David (Jeanie) Proctor of Nellysford, VA, a daughter, Brenda (John) Faris of Cape Girardeau. Five grandchildren, Stephen Faris (Jenny Weiss) of Cape Girardeau, Stuart (Megan) Faris of Webster Groves, Mo, Amy (Jack) Leachman of Asheville, NC, Andrea (Tarlton) Brewer of Richmond VA, and Kipp Proctor of Bozeman, MT and three great grandchildren Delia and Grady Faris of Webster Groves and Mary Grace Brewer of Richmond. She is also survived by a sister, Audrey Kitchen of Union, Mo.

She was preceded in death by her parents, 6 brothers and 4 sisters.

Active in organizations

I did some newspaper searches several years back for some celebration Katy’s family had planned.

The November 9, 1961, Missourian had a society brief that The Fern Herrington Intermediate G.A.s of Calvary Baptist met at the church on Monday to study, under the guidance of their counselor, Mrs. Woodrow Proctor, the chapter on “Germany, A Nation Divided,” from the book, Teen Traveler Abroad.

Woody served in World War II

A brief in the August 6, 1945, Missourian said that Pfc. Ralph W. Proctor of Chaffee, a member of the 13th AAF Bomber Command in the Philippines, had been promoted to corporal in the Netherlands East Indies, according to a dispatch from headquarters overseas. Corp. Proctor, son of Mr. and Mrs. Joe Proctor, joined the service in December, 1942, and saw his first action with the veteran “Jungle Air Force” in June 1943, at Guadalcanal. His wife, Mrs. Kathryn Revelle Proctor, lives at Chaffee.

Squabbles

Mark and I were always amused at how the group of women were constantly squabbling and getting on the outs with each other, then reuniting like nothing had happened.

We’re going to miss her

Katy had an infectious grin that wrapped all the way around face, she could talk a mile a minute, and break out laughing at the least little thing.

She was a good friend to Mother. We’re all going to miss her.

December 27, 2014January 8, 2021

Rerun: Old Trinity Church

I grew up in the old Trinity Lutheran Church. I was baptized and confirmed there; was cast in way too many Christmas pageants, counted bugs on the ceiling when I was bored, and saw Dad’s casket in the front of the altar. Today’s post is a collection of stories I’ve done on the old Trinity.

When I heard that the building was being torn down just short of its 100th anniversary because it was “structurally deficient,” Brother Mark and I tried to document as much of it as possible. I put quotes around “structurally deficient” because the discovery was made just about the time a sizable donation came in that stipulated that it could only be used to build a new church.

Here’s what it looked like in the bell tower. Follow the links to see the whole story and to read the many comments.

1954 pledge drive

The church conducted a $225,000 pledge drive in 1954. This picture was used in a brochure promoting the drive. The post logged two dozen comments, so I wasn’t the only one picking out faces.

New Trinity at dusk

I was walking back to my car when I saw the new federal building and the new Trinity Lutheran church in the fading sunlight.

That’s as close as I’m ever going to get to the building. MY church was torn down and many of the things that made it special were discarded, so I have no reason to go into the new Trinity.

And, yes, I know that church is more than bricks and stained glass. That’s why you rarely see me in one.

From the tower

When Mark and I shot the bell tower, I also took pictures out the windows in all four directions. The tall white building off in the distance is the KFVS tower.

There’s an aerial of the neighborhood in this post, too.

Sanctuary and altar

The most striking part of the church was the sanctuary with its imposing altar. Jesus was hauntingly realistic.

Unfortunately, He wasn’t welcome in the new church and has, reportedly, bounced around a bit, becoming damaged in the process. I heard that He might be out at the old Hanover School.

The balcony

Our family usually headed to the balcony. I loved its majestic sweep. On the wall behind the organ was printed Psalms 26:8 – “Lord, I have loved the habitation of Thy house and the place where Thine honor dwelleth.”

If you follow the link, you can see the inscription in the background of a photo of workers dismantling the pews and lowering them to the ground floor.

One of my readers reported the words were still visible when a bulldozer strained to pull the building down.

Lutheran Church mural

The church owned a property at the corner of Broadway and Middle with a huge blue mural painted on it: “Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not turn from it.” There’s a plaque in the corner that is a who’s-who list of well-known Trinity donors who paid for the sign.

The building had deteriorated to the point where it had to be razed in 2011. I toured the 501 Broadway property with David Renshaw, one of the most introspective demolition men I’ve ever met.

Nothing left but bricks

When David was through, there was nothing left but debris that was quickly hauled away. A parking lot is there today.

I was given a piece of the blue cement block as a souvenir.

Keeping the lights on

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