Pumpkin Center

I mentioned Pumpkin Center, a crossroads community in Dallas County (MO) when I wrote about colorful names of Ozarks towns and villages a few weeks ago. It's located about five miles north of Buffalo on Highway 73 at its intersection with Highway 64. I used to pass through Pumpkin Center occasionally (depending on what route I took) when I'd drive to Jefferson City or Columbia from southwest Missouri, and I often wondered about the curious name of the place.

Moser's Directory of Missouri Places doesn't say much about Pumpkin Center and nothing at all about how it got its quaint name. However, I ran across a 1934 Springfield News and Leader article recently that gives a little bit of info about the place and how it got its name.

At the time of the article, J. M. "Uncle Josh" Duff and his wife operated a general store at the crossroads. In fact, according to newspaper, Duff had "the only store in Pumpkin Center, the only filling station, the only home, the only barn, the only well." In other words, "Pumpkin Center belongs to Uncle Josh."

The store served as a community trading post where farmers from the surrounding area traded cream, eggs, and produce for other home necessities. It was also a popular loafing spot "during the slack season," and often tourists would stop in just to visit the rustic place.

When Josh was away from the store, his wife, Nancy, operated it, but she didn't want to be called "Aunt Nancy," and she wasn't crazy about the tourists snapping pictures of the store and its owners.

Duff had bought the store about 1924 from A. L. Hause, who had gotten it from Charles Cussack, who in turn had acquired it from Robert Miller, the original owner. When Miller built the store, the house, and the barn about 1908, he was at a loss as to what to call the crossroads community. The forerunners to the present-day highways that intersect at the place were just dirt roads that would be become muddy messes during wet weather. A neighbor, remarking on all the rain the area had been getting, supposedly said to Miller, "You might as well call it Pumpkin Center; this is a pumpkin growing country."

When Highway 64 was built some years after the store was established and was routed past the store, gasoline pumps were installed, but the place never became a booming metropolis. Today, there is still not much there other than a crossroads store and station.

Dadeville Banker Killed during an Attempted Holdup

About 1:30 in the afternoon of July 26, 1926, two young men in a 1926 Ford touring car stopped in front of the Crisp Prairie Bank of Dadeville (MO) after making several passes up and down the street in front of the bank. The taller of the two men got out of the vehicle and entered the bank. In the bank at the time were longtime banker Charley Landers, one customer, and the customer's small son. Brandishing a revolver, the tall bandit ordered all three of them into the vault.

Instead of entering the vault as ordered, Landers started toward the door of a small office at the back of the bank, and the would-be robber shot him twice in the back, once before he entered the little room and again after he'd passed through the door. Landers staggered through the room and out a rear door, where he fell to the ground.

The bandit, with the revolver still in his hand, backed out of the bank without taking any money. He walked to the waiting Ford and got in, and the vehicle headed east out of town.

Taken to a hospital in Springfield, Landers lived long enough to give a description of the man who shot him, but he died later that same evening. A large reward was offered for the apprehension of the man who killed Landers, and at least four separate men were arrested on suspicion over the next few months, but each was soon released for lack of evidence and the inability of Dadeville townspeople to identify them.

Another man was arrested on suspicion two or three years later, but he also was released after he was brought to Dadeville and people who had seen Landers's killer said he was not the man. Interest in the crime gradually waned after that, and, as far as I've been able to determine, no one was ever prosecuted for the murder of Charley Landers.

Robbery of the Bank of Pennsboro

I stated recently on this blog that seemingly every little town in America had a bank once upon a time, and the majority of them apparently got held up at one time or another. Add Pennsboro, Missouri, a small community in southern Dade County, to that list.

On November 2, 1928, a "rough-looking" man entered the Bank of Pennsboro about three o'clock in the afternoon and, flourishing a firearm, demanded that the assistant cashier, Truman Allison, show him the money. The bandit scooped up all the readily available cash, about $900, locked Allison in the vault, and made his escape in a Chrysler automobile.

A customer entered the bank just as the robber was fleeing and soon helped Allison get loose. The men went to summon law enforcement but found that the bandit had cut all the telephone wires leading in and out of Pennsboro.

Based on a description of the getaway vehicle, the Pennsboro bank bandit was traced to Springfield and identified as local businessman B. W. Baty. While being questioned at his pressing/dry cleaning shop, Baty was allowed to go into a back room, where, unknown to officers, he secured a small bottle of poison. Arrested and taken to the central police station on the evening of November 3, he committed suicide by taking the poison. Baty's family didn't think he was guilty of the robbery, because they said he didn't need the money, but all the evidence, including the license plate number of the Chrysler, pointed to his guilt.

At the time of the Pennsboro bank robbery, the town sported a population of about 75 people and had three other businesses besides the bank: a post office and two general stores. Nowadays, it's hardly a wide place in the road. It's home to a church and a couple of residences, and that's about it.

On a personal note, I mainly write historical nonfiction, but I do occasionally write fiction and have for many years. Recently I published a western novel, Return to Dry Creek (https://amzn.to/4i8bLiR) as an e-book, and in connection with the launch of that book, I'm making the first book in the series, Wild in His Sorrow (https://amzn.to/4cso8oO), which I published a couple of years ago, free to download for the next four days.

Another Pretty Horse Thief

In my book Wicked Women of Missouri https://amzn.to/3Rq24Sh, I write about a couple of attractive young women who caused sensations in the southwest Missouri area around 1890 when they borrowed rigs from liveries, didn't pay up front, and didn't bother to return them. They were both charged with horse theft and sent to prison for short stints.

The outbreak of horse thievery among good-looking young Missouri women during that time frame apparently wasn't confined just to the southwest part of the state, though. Take Clara Graham as an example.

Clara, a tall, well-dressed young woman, worked for a family on the east side of Kansas City in early 1889. On February 13, a dispute arose between her and certain members of the family, and she quit the job or was released. The next day, having nothing else to do, she decided to take a buggy ride, and she engaged a rig from the Gordon and Schmid Livery. She picked up a friend of hers, a barber's wife, and then rode around Kansas City a while before driving to Armourdale (now a neighborhood in Kansas City, KS, where they were joined by a man named McCoy, a friend of Clara's.

According to Clara's later story, McCoy gave her something to drink that must have been laced with a drug, because the next thing she remembered was waking up in St. Joseph two days later. But she still had the horse and buggy, and there was no sign of McCoy or her lady friend. The next day, she drove on to Troy, Kansas, because she had an uncle living near the town, who, she thought, might help her out. She stayed at a hotel in Troy for several weeks and, when she got ready to leave, she sold the rig to the hotel proprietor and got enough to satisfy the debt she owed for the room and board with $30 left over.

However, Clara spent the $30 on trifles and was once again broke when she was finally traced to the Troy area in mid-March. She was brought back to Kansas City to face a charge of grand larceny. Clara did not oppose extradition.

Her arrest and appearance in the Kansas City Court on a horse stealing charge caused "a flutter of excitement." Taking note of the sensation, if not contributing to it, the Kansas City Times editorialized, "A horsethief is about as unpopular a mortal as can follow a rogue's profession. Hanging in none too good for him.... A vulgar horsethief is beneath the notice of a high-toned bank burglar or even a gentlemanly pickpocket, but when a horse thief is a woman, and a good-looking one at that, the whole aspect of things is changed."

The Times described Clara as tall, "finely formed," and "of unusual intelligence." Prior to taking the horse and buggy for a joy ride, she had "a magnificent suit of brown hair," but she had cut it short and put on a blonde wig prior to engaging the rig so that she would not to be recognized. Clara had "dark gray eyes and regular features, and while not beautiful, is quite interesting."

Another newspaper opined that Clara would "not win the first prize in a beauty show," but that "she has a pleasant and somewhat handsome face."

Clara claimed she wrote to the livery in Kansas City on more than one occasion while she was on the lam trying to explain the circumstances of what had happened, but that she did not hear back. Authorities were skeptical of the claim and even more skeptical of her claim that she had been drugged.

Clara pleaded not guilty to the charge of horse stealing, claiming she had no intention of stealing the rig but had planned to return it from the start. She cited the fact that she'd left most her belongings in Kansas City as proof that she meant to return. The fact remained, however, that she had sold a horse and buggy that did not belong to her, and she was indicted on the grand larceny charge. She remained in jail in lieu of $1,000 bond.

Clara was scheduled for preliminary examination on March 22. She waived examination when the appointed time came, beseeching the judge only that he reduce her bond so that she might stand a chance of getting out of jail, where she had been thrown side by side with "women of notorious character." The judge reduced the bond to $500, but Clara remained in jail.

At her trial in early May, Clara was found guilty and sentenced to two years in the penitentiary. She was transferred to Jefferson City in early June, and a number of people began working on her behalf almost immediately to have her sentence mitigated. In early December, the governor granted her a full pardon, and she was released to the custody of her father, after serving only about six months of her two-year sentence.

Mexican Villa

Mexican Villa has always been one of my and my wife's favorite spots to eat in Springfield. Nowadays, there are several Mexican Villa locations in Springfield, but last night (March 28, 2025), we ate at Springfield's original Mexican Villa, which was founded at the corner of National and Bennett in 1951. At least, that's the brief history, as I had always thought it to be, but come to find out, the story is not quite that straightforward.

While stationed in south Texas during World War II, former Springfield resident G. H. Ferguson developed a love of Tex-Mex food. After the war, he and his wife, Betty, returned home to Springfield, and they purchased a barbeque restaurant, the Pig 'N Bun Drive In, at 1408 S. National in 1951. Ferguson soon introduced some of the Mexican recipes he remembered from Texas, giving Springfield its first taste of Mexican food, but the place was still called the Pig 'N Bun. 

Around 1958, the Fergusons opened Old Mexico, a Mexican restaurant on South Glenstone across from the Plaza Shopping Center. At the same time, they leased the Pig 'N Bun to a man named Tommy Lafino, who turned it into the Italian Villa.

Then, when Lafino retired about 1962, the Fergusons closed Old Mexico, returned to the restaurant at National and Bennett, and renamed it Mexican Villa. So, the place where my wife and I ate last night is, in fact, the original Mexican Villa site, but it did not acquire the Mexican Villa name until more than ten years after Feguson first served Mexican food from that location. 

Ash Grove Bank Robbery

I've seen it suggested a couple of different times on the Internet and elsewhere that Bonnie and Clyde either were involved or very well might have been involved in the robbery of the Ash Grove (MO) bank on January 12, 1933. While it's true that the Ash Grove bank was robbed on that date, it is virtually certain that Bonnie and Clyde had nothing to do with the caper.

Around noon on January 12, two unmasked men entered the Bank of Ash Grove, and one of them asked for change for a $5 bill. As the cashier turned to make the change, both bandits drew guns and ordered the cashier, J. H. Perryman, and his assistant, Nora Anglum, to throw up their hands. One man stood guard over the two bank officials while the other one scooped up all the cash he could find. The latter bandit then forced Perryman, at the point of a gun, to open the safe, and he cleaned it out, too. 

While Perryman was opening the safe, a customer, Perry Titus, started into the bank and, seeing what he thought were two other customers ahead of him in line, turned around and started back out. However, a third bandit, who had been keeping a watch from a getaway car, ordered him back into the bank and then followed him in. Announcing that he was Pretty Boy Floyd, this third robber seemed to be in charge. He tried to get the cashiers to come up with more money, but when they swore there wasn't any more, he told his sidekicks it was time to leave. 

Making off with about $3,000, the bandits dashed to the waiting getaway car and sped out of town to the south and then west, closely pursued by a posse of three citizens, who briefly exchanged gunfire with the robbers. The pursuers finally lost track of the bandits a few miles north of Mount Vernon. 

Several men were arrested for questioning in the immediate aftermath of the Ash Grove heist, but none of the first ones picked up were held very long. 

Bonnie and Clyde were never serious suspects in the crime, but their kidnapping of Springfield motorcycle cop Tom Persell later in January led indirectly to their name being falsely associated with the crime, because after Persell was released unharmed near Joplin, he came back to Springfield and told of his adventures with the notorious Barrow gang. One of the things he said was that the driver (later identified as Clyde Barrow) mentioned something about Ash Grove during the gang's pell-mell flight along the backroads from Springfield to Joplin. This was the first intimation that Bonnie and Clyde might have been involved in the Ash Grove robbery, and apparently a few historians and would-be historians have picked up on Persell's suggestion and run with it. 

The first serious suspect arrested for the Ash Grove holdup was Jack Allen (aka Paul Fitzgerald) who was nabbed in Oklahoma about the same time Bonnie and Clyde were taking Persell for his unsolicited ride. Allen was brought back to Springfield, where he was known to local law enforcement, and lodged in jail.

In mid-March, Allen and several other prisoners broke out of the Greene County Jail and stole an automobile to make their getaway in. He was recaptured a week later after a gun battle near Harrison, Arkansas. Charged with grand larceny, based on the theft of the car, he was convicted and sentenced to 35 years in prison.

A second suspect in the Ash Grove bank robbery, Roland "Screwdriver" Haley, was identified in early April. At the time he was being held in a Palestine, Texas, jail on a burglary and larceny charge. Two or three weeks later, he broke out of jail but, like Allen, was soon recaptured after a shootout. Brought back to Missouri in late May, he went on trial in early June for the Ash Grove robbery, was convicted, and was sentenced to 25 years in the pen. After his conviction, he admitted that he was the man who, during the Ash Grove robbery, had identified himself as Pretty Boy Floyd. 

As far as I know, no one else was ever charged in the Ash Grove bank robbery. So, the identity of the third bandit remains unknown, but one thing's pretty clear: it wasn't Clyde Barrow. It's almost equally certain that it wasn't Pretty Boy Floyd either.

 

Colorful Names and Nicknames of Ozarks Towns

Recently I ran onto an article by staff writer Ginger Ruark in a 1930s issue of the Springfield Press about colorful names of Ozarks towns, especially small towns. Some of the more interesting ones she cited were Split Log, Blue Eye, Long Lane, Hogeye (i.e. Charity), Slap Out (Grove Springs), Oronogo, and Pin Hook (i.e. Pleasant Hope). 

The naming of Split Log (also spelled Splitlog), located just south of the Newton County line in McDonald County, had nothing to do with cutting wood, as one might guess from the name itself. Rather it was named after an Indian Chief who started the town and whose name was Splitlog. 

Blue Eye on the Arkansas-Missouri border got its name when the first postmaster, who had several brown-eyed daughters but only one blue-eyed daughter, was tasked with giving the place a name. As the little community's first settlers were debating what the name should be, the postmaster's blue-eyed daughter came up to him, and, looking her in the eyes, the man announced that they should call the place Blue Eye. 

Long Lane in Dallas County got its name, appropriately enough, because the main street was a long, tree-shaded lane. 

Long Lane's neighbor, Charity, got its nickname Hog Eye, in an unusual way. In the 1880s, citizens of the area were anxiously anticipating completion of a railroad through the county. (It was never completed.) A man named Bennett established a general store on one side of the main street and traded his goods for railroad ties, which he planned to sell to railroad contractors. Shortly afterward, a newcomer whose name was also Bennett opened a store on the opposite side of the street, and in order to distinguish the two men, the townspeople took to calling one of them Hog Eye and the other one Goat Eye. Hog Eye Bennett was one of the main organizers of the early community picnics that were held regularly at Charity, and the picnic grounds were dubbed Hog Eye after Hog Eye Bennett. The festival itself came to be known as the Hog Eye Picnic, and even the town of Charity was (and still is) sometimes called Hog Eye.

Grovespring (or Grove Springs, as Ms. Ruark spelled it) was once known as Slap Out. The name supposedly derived from the fact that there were few stores within easy reach of the settlement, and residents were in the habit of calling on each other when they needed a cup of flour or some other essential. Often the reply they got was, "Sorry, I'm slap out myself." 

There are several variant stories on how Oronogo in Jasper County got its name. The one Ms. Ruark cited is one I've never heard before, and I don't think it's accurate. She said that, when early miners looking for ore in the area were told they'd never find any, they replied "It's ore or no go," and, so, when they did strike ore, they named the place Oronogo. This is just a tall tale, I think, because Oronogo was a town named Minersville quite a few years before it got the name Oronogo. One of the most prevalent explanations for how the town got its name is that one of the early storekeepers often took ore in exchange for his merchandise but when someone asked him whether he'd take other goods like crops or furs, he supposedly answered, "No, it's ore or no go." This was about the time Minersville was told by the post office to come up with a different name because there was already another town in Missouri by that name, and someone suggested Oronogo, a contracted version of "Ore or no go."  

Ms. Ruark didn't know what the "obscure reason" was that Pleasant Hope in Polk County got its nickname Pin Hook. This is something I've written about on this blog before. The short answer is that there was actually a place called Pin Hook that predated Pleasant Hope in the same immediate vicinity. Pin Hook disappeared, and Pleasant Hope sprang up about the time of the Civil War or shortly before, and a lot people started referring to Pleasant Hope as Pin Hook, even though that was not its official name. I'm not positive this is exactly how it happened, because I'm writing this just from memory, but it's something along those lines.

Other colorful place names mentioned by Ms. Ruark include Peculiar, Dog Town, Red Top, Red Hot, Windyville, Lick Skillet, Bird Song, Pumpkin Center, Possum Trot, Chicken Bustle, Christopher Crossroads, and Gouge Eye (an early name for Galloway, which is now part of southeast Springfield).