Principal Pritchard and Cooter

Cooter 11-24-2015From time to time you are going to see posts about places with funny names that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m trying to document the Missouri Bootheel, and it’s a real challenge because photography is all about “somethings,” and many of the “somethings” south of the Benton Hills have turned into “nothings.”

Many places on old maps have ceased to exist except as maybe a crossroads with a falling-down building marking where a general store once was. In a lot of cases, the water tower is the most visible sign of public life. This is Cooter, just north of the Arkansas border in Pemiscot County. As always, click on the photos to make them larger.

How Cooter got its name (maybe)

Cooter 11-24-2015There are several explanations for how Cooter got its name. The State Historical Society of Missouri gives this explanation:

The date of the first settlement is unknown, but evidence from a monument in Upper Cooter Cemetery shows that a settlement was made here before 1854. In 1856 this was a flourishing village. It was first settled as a hunting and fishing camp on Pemiscot or Cagle Lake. Among the game shipped were the coots, members of the duck family, and it is from them that the town is said to have received its name.

H.E. Doerner, of Steele, disagrees with this theory on the ground that an old map of the county, drawn by George W. Carleton between 1883-1890 gives the spelling Couter. He maintains that the town was named from an old family of that name, or that the township received its name first from the French word “coutre” or “couter” which he says means to cut, indicating that this township was cut from others. The French word couter, however, does not mean to cut but to cost and the significance Mr. Doerner attached to the word is lost. It is true that the township was first spelled Coutre or Couter in the county court records from 1883-1890, and the name of the town was so spelled by Goodspeed in 1888. Portell Coutre, a Frenchman, was a resident of New Madrid in 1795, and it is possible that he moved to this vicinity and the settlement was named for him. In 1924 the post office department changed the name to Coutre to avoid confusion with Cooper in Gentry County, but after a year’s trial the spelling Cooter was resumed.

Genealogist weighs in

Cooter 11-24-2015The Pemiscot County Gen Web leans to the Portell theory:

Houck’s History of Missouri, Volume 2, page 151, lists PORTELL COUTRE as a settler of New Madrid, MO. in 1795. The Encyclopedia of Missouri, page 218 of the Missouri Gazetter, says the town of ‘Cooter was named in 1854 for the Coutre family of New Madrid, one of whom was a merchant there in 1795.’

PORTELL COUTRE is the only Coutre family member identified by Houck as a resident of New Madrid in 1795 so therefore is the head of the family Cooter
was named for.

Cooter High School

Cooter 11-24-2015One bright spot is the well-kept Cooter High School, Home of The Wildcats. I was curious who Mr. Pritchard was, so I turned to David Kelley, the man who turned me on to this project. He remembered Delmar Pritchard as a former pro boxer who was built like a fireplug. When he served as a teacher in principal in Cooter and Steele, “he didn’t have any discipline problems,” Mr. Kelley said.

His obituary in The Steele Enterprise said he was born in Carroll County, Tenn., on November 30, 1909, and died May 6, 1984, at the Chickasawba Hospital in Blytheville. He moved with his parents from Tennessee to Pemiscot County in 1915.

He attended the Number Eight School and the Caruthersville High School, graduating in 1931. He graduated from college in Jonesboro, Ark.

Delmar “Kid” Pritchard taught school in Caruthersville, Micola, Hayti, Steele and Cooter. He also was principal and coached in Cooter High School. He retired from teaching in 1975. Mr. Pritchard was a self-employed farmer.

His students loved him

Cooter 11-24-2015I usually stay away from topix because it’s mostly filled with illiterate rants from people with more idle time than class or good judgement. I was pleasantly surprised when my Google search turned up these comments:

  • Love to hear some comments on the best Principal Cooter ever had. He was one of the sweetist and strictist person I knew. I loved him dearly and was glad to see the sign out in front of the school with his name on it. Now he was Mr. C.H.S.
  • I respected Mr Pritchard and all the teachers back when I was in school, 40 years ago, Only time I every got a lick from his Famous Paddle was when all of us Seniors got out on the Fire escape which was really dangerous, because it wasn’t very stable. He just tapped the girls, but when it came to the boys he let them have it. The way things are in school today, I think of my school day as being very memorable.
  • Mr. Pritchard was the best. He loved the kids and wasn’t afraid of the politics in the school system when it came to fairness and students getting what they deserved. It didn’t matter to him who you were or if you had a “name” or “money”. If you were the best and deserved whatever you got it and Mr. Pritchard was right there to fight for your rights. I will never forget him. He was a daddy to all the kids and loved them dearly.

He reminds me of assistant principal Wayne Goddard – Mr. G – at Central High School.

[By the way, Wife Lila pointed out that there were a lot of spelling and other errors in the post. I told her it was all cut and paste. For once, the mistakes aren’t mine.]

 

 

Why Are They So Relaxed?

Lolita Stone and Helen Ketterer c Aug 1964I was scanning a negative sleeve marked “Jackson Primary – 1964,” when I spotted these two frames that were both not Jackson and not what I expected.

Way back in 2009, I showed another side of Miss Helen Ketterer at a wrestling match, but I don’t think I ever saw her as relaxed at school as she is in these photos. The Jackson pictures had an August 1964 calendar on the wall, so these may have been taken before school started. The woman on the left is Lolita Stone (spelled Lollita Stone in the 1964 yearbook), who worked in the office.

Here’s another story I did on Miss Ketterer and Mrs. Moore in the office.

Mr. G showed up

Wayne Goddard, Lolita Stone and Helen Ketterer c Aug 1964

Even assistant principal Wayne Goddard – Mr. G – has a relaxed look about him. He actually looks like he’s part of a Social Club different than the ones students were invited to attend after school. I don’t know who the man on the right is.

ALWAYS Carry the Camera

I’ve shot so many wrecks and fires that most of them are a blur. This one stands out in my mind for one reason: I wasn’t supposed to be there. (That’s my 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon in the background. I tried to blow the picture up to see who my cohorts in crime were, but I couldn’t make them out. (Click on the photos to make them larger.))

Truck vs. Train

A couple buddies and I decided to cut class one afternoon. Maybe we had study hall or something where we wouldn’t be missed, I don’t remember. It was well known that I never went anywhere without my camera and an ugly orange plastic-covered camera bag, so I elected to leave them in the school darkroom so I’d be less obvious.

No telling why we were on the south end of town near the dogleg at Elm and Fountain and the railroad tracks near Leming Lumber. I might have heard the call on my police monitor and decided to chase it.

I imagine I said something like “DRAT!” when I reached for my camera and came up dry.

Dash to Nowell’s

My station wagon must have been a red streak when I drove across town to Nowell’s Camera Shop. I dashed inside, reached into the display case for a Pentax camera, grabbed a roll of Tri-X off another shelf and hollered over my shoulder on the way out the door, “I’ll settle up with you later.” I don’t think Bill Nowell so much as blinked an eye. Try that in one of the Big Box stores today and see what happens.

God and the preacher

I managed to get back in time to get at least one shot that ran in the paper; the top one, I think. There are big gaps in the Google Archives for 1964, so I couldn’t find the actual story. This was one time I was happy that The Missourian didn’t give me a byline.

I was in the situation of the preacher who called in sick on Sunday morning to play golf. God and St. Peter are perched on clouds watching him approach the first tee. “Watch this,” God says, directing the ball to go straight into the hole. The same thing happened on the next four holes.

“Why did you reward him for neglecting his flock?” St. Peter asked, perplexed. “Wouldn’t a bolt of lightning been more appropriate?

“Who is he going to tell?” God said with a wicked smile.

Vintage cars burned up

These two fire pictures were on the same roll. I remember absolutely nothing about them. They had to have been shot on the same day, because I returned the camera to Nowell’s right away.

Body language haunting

What I notice in this photo is the haunting body language that signals despair. These aren’t merely spectators. They are people who have lost something important to them. They remind me a bit of the Reid Family in Ohio: stunned and numb.

You can tell a big difference between the people standing here and the curious bystanders in the truck vs. train crash.

The vehicle in the foreground looks like a stock car.

We didn’t get caught

My buddies and I managed to escape any consequences from our absence. I DO recall, though, Mr. G. stopping me in the hall a few weeks later and saying, “I know you’re up to something, I just haven’t figured out WHAT yet. I’m keeping my eye on you.” Of course, knowing him, he probably delivered that speech to everybody at one time or another just to keep us on our toes.

The lesson I learned that day was NEVER go anywhere without a camera.

Who’s Who or Who’s That?

Memory is a funny thing. I looked at this Central High School auditorium assembly and immediately started assigning names to folks I hadn’t thought of in years, but then I looked at faces that were very familiar and couldn’t dredge up a name to save my soul.

I don’t know if this is a photographic Who’s Who of Central’s finest or if they cause a flicker because I’ve seen them on the wall of the Post Office. Click on the photos to make them larger.

I see, in no particular order, Shari Stiver, Claudia Modder, Chuck Dockins, Gail Tibbles, Marilyn Maevers, Craig Brinkman, Stephen Crowe, Don Call, Lee Dehringer, Yvonne Askew, Joan Amlingmeyer, Janey Crites, John David Finch, Jay Fred Waltz and David Stovall. I don’t see Pat Sommers, but he’ll be pleased to know that there is at least one student in the photo shooting me the bird. Maybe Pat sent in a substitute.

Packed hallways

Whatever was happening in the assembly must have been good. The hallways are packed with students headed to the auditorium. That looks like Randy Morse in the striped shirt on the right.

No hallway rage here

There is plenty of congestion, but nobody seems to be particularly put out at the gridlock.

Wayne Goddard has eye on Jim Feldmeier

Assistant Principal Wayne Goddard, left, has his eye on Jim Feldmeier, student body president. He’s sure Jim is cooking up something behind that cherubic expression. I don’t know who the girl next to him is, but she’s eyeing the podium with a look of fright. She and Jim appear to be the only ones clutching notes.

I can’t tell from the mix of teachers what might have been going on. I recognize art teacher Edna Glenn. Third from the right is English teacher Cecile Busch and, to the right of her is Latin teacher Susan May. I can’t place the man on the end. Principal Fred Wilferth is at the podium.

Take it from someone who has stood behind that podium, it was both a massive wooden structure and a tiny splinter that never felt big enough to hide behind when you were facing a packed auditorium of your peers.

Journalism, music, sports

The right side of the stage has an even more eclectic mix. Henry Crites, left, taught journalism; Ken Webster, physics; Gene Bryant, vocal music; Coach Robert Goodwin is staring intently at Mr. Wilferth. He’s thinking, “As soon as the principal clears the stage, I’m gonna have that scrawny photographer running around the track until his wheels fall off.” I don’t know the two on the right.

 

 

Copyright © Ken Steinhoff. All rights reserved.