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).

Long Lane Bank Robbery

Apparently, every little town in the Ozarks (and America as a whole) had a bank once upon a time. Take Long Lane, a small community in Dallas County, Missouri, for example. I didn't realize Long Lane was big enough to have ever had a bank, but it did. In fact, the bank got held up in December of 1932.

About nine o'clock on the night of the 22nd, two unmasked men, pretending to want some gasoline for their car, called at the apartment of Milam Bledsoe, cashier of the First State Bank of Long Lane. The apartment was located above the Bledsoe store, and the store adjoined the bank. Opening the door, Bledsoe recognized his unwelcome visitors as the same culprits who'd tried to rob him two weeks earlier, and he at first refused their demand to go with them. The two men brandished guns and, confirming that Bledsoe had thwarted them in an earlier attempt to rob the bank, said they meant business this time and were here to get the money. One of the men escorted Bledsoe to the bank at gunpoint, while the other gunman followed with the other three hostages in tow. 

The gunmen made Bledsoe open the safe for them, took about $1,000 in loot, and locked the cashier and the other three hostages in the vault. The bandits then dashed outside, where one or two other men waited in a getaway car. The vehicle, described only as light colored, was last seen heading west toward Buffalo.

The next day, Jack Ryan was arrested in Buffalo on suspicion of having participated in the Long Lane heist, and later that same day, Paul "Blackie" Bagby and Lloyd McKinney were arrested in Springfield. Bagby was a confessed liquor runner who had supposedly boasted at one time of being a lieutenant of Al Capone, and McKinney had recently been raided by federal officers. McKinney, however, proved an alibi and was released. Ryan and Bagby, meanwhile, were held on unrelated charges so they could be further investigated for the bank job, even though Bledsoe failed to positively identify either man when the suspects were brought before him. Both men were later charged in the bank robbery after Mrs. Bledsoe tentatively identified Bagby as the man who'd held her husband at gunpoint.

Bagby was tried on the bank robbery charge in April 1933, found guilty, and sentenced to ten years in prison. The bank charge against Ryan, meanwhile, was dropped for lack of evidence, but he was convicted on a charge of carrying a concealed weapon and given a six-month jail sentence.

Later, Bagby was granted a new trial and a change of venue to Webster County, and he was set free on bond pending the new trial. He jumped bond but was recaptured in Illinois in early September 1933. Turned over to his bondsman, he again failed to appear when his new trial was called a second time. A new date for the trial was set, and the bondsman assured authorities that Bagby would appear this time. When the suspect didn't show up yet again, the bond money was confiscated.

Bagby finally showed up in Springfield in May 1934 and turned himself in to his lawyer. He was taken to Marshfield and lodged in the county jail there. As it turned out, Bagby shouldn't have pressed his luck by asking for a new trial. He was tried at Marshfield later that same month and given a 25-year sentence in prison. Denied a new trial, he was transported to Jefferson City in June. 

Apparently, no one else was ever charged in the Long Lane bank robbery.

A Family Affair

The Sedalia Bazoo was one of the most prominent practitioners of yellow journalism in Missouri in the late nineteenth century. The editors of the Bazoo liked nothing better than a gory murder case, a public hanging, or a juicy scandal. They found a scandal in July 1883 when James Heflin of the Beaman neighborhood north of Sedalia filed charges on July 24 against Milton Fall, his brother-in-law and near neighbor, for assault with intent to kill.

Sensing a sensational story, a Bazoo reporter set about ferreting out the facts behind the assault charge. What he learned was that Fall and Heflin had been good friends until recently. Heflin was married to Fall's sister, and the two men lived about a quarter mile from each other. They both had several kids, and the two families frequently visited in each other's homes. In the spring or early summer of 1883, however, Fall began to suspect that Heflin, who was about 35 to 40 years old, was "paying too much attention" to Fall's 23-year-old wife, Flora.

On July 10, Fall was working in his field when he saw Heflin approaching his (Fall's) house. Suspecting that Heflin had come to pay a visit to Flora, Fall sneaked up to his house, looked in a window, and caught his wife and his brother-in-law "flagrante delicto," which translates roughly to "in the act" or "red handed." What followed was "a scene beyond the power of the reporter to describe."

During the angry confrontation, Heflin and Mrs. Fall vehemently denied any undue intimacy, and Heflin even threatened Fall's life if he publicly accused Heflin of seducing his wife. In due course, Heflin retired from the fray, leaving Flora to deal with her angry husband. The next day, Fall left his wife and went to stay with his mother, who, of course, was also Heflin's wife's mother.

On July 15, Heflin came to visit his mother-in-law, and when Fall saw him coming, he pulled out a revolver and fired four shots at his brother-in-law. Although none of the shots took effect, Heflin filed charges against Fall on the 24th, and Fall's hearing was set for July 30.

It was thought that "all the dirty linen would receive an airing" at that time, but, instead, the charge against Fall was dropped. Friends and family members had persuaded Heflin to withdraw his complaint, convincing him that "further investigation" would only increase the ill feeling between family members and neighbors.

It was now claimed that Heflin was "not guilty of criminal intimacy with Mrs. Fall" and that the story to that effect was merely "concocted to justify Fall's shooting at Heflin." The Bazoo reporter, thus, concluded that the scandal was now a thing of the past.

Fall did, in fact, return to his wife a few days later, claiming now that the reason he'd left her was that he didn't think she loved him "as she should." He thought Flora allowed herself to be too much influenced by her mother, who lived with the couple. So, Fall let his mother-in-law know that "her departure at the earliest possible moment would be agreeable news to him," and she "at once vacated his house."