My wife and I made a trip from Joplin to the Missouri State Fair at Sedalia over the weekend, and, taking the shortest route (via Eldorado Springs) we passed through some interesting small towns along the way. Of course, small towns are my favorite kind, especially small towns of the Ozarks.
At Eldorado Springs, we took Highway 82 to Osceola, and along the way we passed through such wide places in the road as Roscoe, which is near the spot where the Younger brothers had their infamous shootout with Pinkerton agents in the spring of 1874. From Osceola, we followed 82 until we came to Highway 83, and we then took 83 into Warsaw, where we picked up Highway 65 for the rest of the trip to Sedalia. Neither Highway 82 nor Highway 83 is what one would call a good road. Both roads are relatively narrow and have a lot of curves and hills, but it is the shortest route.
Coming home, we took 65 all the way to Preston, where we picked up Highway 54 through Eldorado Springs, and then we got on Highway 71 at Nevada for the rest of the trip back. Not quite as eventful as the trip up, but we still saw some interesting little towns, like Weaubleau and Wheatland, and even came within seven miles of Elkton, the hometown of Sally Rand--the same place that I said in a post a couple of weeks ago that I had never visited. I was tempted to take a side trip to Elkton just to say I'd been there but decided I was in too big of a hurry to get home.
Oh, and we did stop at Collins, where we ate at Smith's Restaurant, home of the famous homemade pies. They were out of my favorite, coconut, though; so I didn't have dessert.
It was somewhat of a hectic trip, since we made the journey up and back in the same day, but still kind of fun, because I always enjoy getting out and seeing the Ozarks, especially parts of it that I don't normally visit on a regular basis.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Murphy Movement
I mentioned in my last post about Liberal that the late 1800s were a time of great social and religious experimentation across America. It was also a time of religious revival and reform. One aspect of the reawakening was the abstinence movement, led mainly by women, that swept across the U. S. during the late 1800s and continued into the 1900s. Organizations like the Anti-Saloon League and the Women's Christian Temperance Union sprang up, and their anti-liquor campaigns gave rise to crusading figures like Carrie Nation.
While these groups opposed the consumption of alcoholic beverages mainly by targeting saloons and by trying to get laws against drinking passed, one strain of the temperance movement, called the Murphy Movement, concentrated on the drinkers themselves. Named after its founder, Francis Murphy, who was a former saloonkeeper himself, the movement asked people to sign a pledge not to drink, and they were then given blue ribbons to wear as a token of the pledge. The movement started in Pittsburg, Penn. in late 1876, and by early 1878 it had reached the Ozarks. A series of meetings were held at various churches in Springfield, particularly the First Christian Church located just west of the square, during January and February of that year, and over two thousand people took the pledge. The movement also spread to other Greene County communities like Ash Grove and Walnut Grove and to towns throughout southwest Missouri, like Pierce City, Carthage, Webb City, and Joplin.
By late March of 1878, the movement had petered out in southwest Missouri, having died out about as fast as it got started, but the overall temperance movement did not culminate until many years later with passage of the Prohibition law.
While these groups opposed the consumption of alcoholic beverages mainly by targeting saloons and by trying to get laws against drinking passed, one strain of the temperance movement, called the Murphy Movement, concentrated on the drinkers themselves. Named after its founder, Francis Murphy, who was a former saloonkeeper himself, the movement asked people to sign a pledge not to drink, and they were then given blue ribbons to wear as a token of the pledge. The movement started in Pittsburg, Penn. in late 1876, and by early 1878 it had reached the Ozarks. A series of meetings were held at various churches in Springfield, particularly the First Christian Church located just west of the square, during January and February of that year, and over two thousand people took the pledge. The movement also spread to other Greene County communities like Ash Grove and Walnut Grove and to towns throughout southwest Missouri, like Pierce City, Carthage, Webb City, and Joplin.
By late March of 1878, the movement had petered out in southwest Missouri, having died out about as fast as it got started, but the overall temperance movement did not culminate until many years later with passage of the Prohibition law.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Liberal
I've mentioned in previous posts a couple of the communities founded in the Ozarks by Alcander Longley on the principle of practical communism during the late 1800s, and I've also mentioned at least a couple of towns that were founded as mineral water resorts during the same period. The late 1800s were a time of great social and religious experimentation in the United States, and I'm fascinated by the communities that sprang up across the country based on one utopian principle or another. Liberal, founded in 1880 by George H. Walser in Barton County, Mo., was one such town.
People nowadays don't give the name "Liberal" a second thought, but the town was given its name for a reason. Walser, a Union Army veteran, wanted his town to be a haven for freethinkers and other skeptics, where they would not be bothered by Christian neighbors. The idea seemed to work for awhile. Walser started a school at Liberal based on free thought, and he even named the town's streets after intellectuals like Thomas Paine. It wasn't long, though, before Christians, spiritualists, advocates of free love, and others who were devoted to something besides liberalism started to infiltrate the group. For a few years, there was a lot of friction between "the saints and the sinners," and for awhile in the 1890s spiritualism seemed to dominate in Liberal. Over time, though, the Christians gained the upper hand, and by the time Walser died in 1910, the town boasted several churches and was little different from any other small town. Today, about the only vestiges of liberalism in Liberal are the street signs with interesting names like Darwin and Ingersoll.
People nowadays don't give the name "Liberal" a second thought, but the town was given its name for a reason. Walser, a Union Army veteran, wanted his town to be a haven for freethinkers and other skeptics, where they would not be bothered by Christian neighbors. The idea seemed to work for awhile. Walser started a school at Liberal based on free thought, and he even named the town's streets after intellectuals like Thomas Paine. It wasn't long, though, before Christians, spiritualists, advocates of free love, and others who were devoted to something besides liberalism started to infiltrate the group. For a few years, there was a lot of friction between "the saints and the sinners," and for awhile in the 1890s spiritualism seemed to dominate in Liberal. Over time, though, the Christians gained the upper hand, and by the time Walser died in 1910, the town boasted several churches and was little different from any other small town. Today, about the only vestiges of liberalism in Liberal are the street signs with interesting names like Darwin and Ingersoll.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Sally Rand
Last time I mentioned the idea of famous or semi-famous people who were born in the Ozarks, and I talked specifically about Langston Hughes, a native of Joplin.
Another Ozarkian who, like Hughes, went on to achieve a certain level of notoriety as well as fame was Sally Rand, who was born in the small village of Elkton, in Hickory County, Missouri. While Hughes was already somewhat famous as a poet and author before his uncoventional beliefs (some accused him of being a communist) got him into hot water with traditionalists, the burlesque dancer became famous and infamous at the same time by taking her clothes off.
Actually, Ms. Rand rarely, if ever, appeared completely nude but instead was always partly covered by a fan, a bubble, or a sheer body suit. Her performance at the Chicago World's Fair, though, was enough for her to make a risque name for herself.
Although I've lived in the Missouri Ozarks my whole life and I've traveled to a lot of out-of-the-way places in the region, I've never been to Ms. Rand's hometown of Elkton. From looking at a map, I conclude that there's no good way to get there. I have, however, been to Elkland, in Webster County, numerous times.
Another Ozarkian who, like Hughes, went on to achieve a certain level of notoriety as well as fame was Sally Rand, who was born in the small village of Elkton, in Hickory County, Missouri. While Hughes was already somewhat famous as a poet and author before his uncoventional beliefs (some accused him of being a communist) got him into hot water with traditionalists, the burlesque dancer became famous and infamous at the same time by taking her clothes off.
Actually, Ms. Rand rarely, if ever, appeared completely nude but instead was always partly covered by a fan, a bubble, or a sheer body suit. Her performance at the Chicago World's Fair, though, was enough for her to make a risque name for herself.
Although I've lived in the Missouri Ozarks my whole life and I've traveled to a lot of out-of-the-way places in the region, I've never been to Ms. Rand's hometown of Elkton. From looking at a map, I conclude that there's no good way to get there. I have, however, been to Elkland, in Webster County, numerous times.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Langston Hughes
In one of my posts a couple of months ago, I mentioned some of the famous or semi-famous people who were born in West Plains. Although West Plains seems to have produced more than its share of notables, a number of other towns throughout the Ozarks also lay claim to being the birthplace of certain individuals who went on to become well known in various fields of endeavor.
Langston Hughes, for instance, was one of several well-known people who originally hailed from Joplin. Hughes was born in 1902 in a house at the southwest corner of 16th and Missouri. Actually it was probably more like a shack, since, at the time, the nearby area was a mining field, and most of the homes in the area were hastily thrown-up shanties that the miners lived in. Hughes's father, though, wasn't a miner as such. He worked for a mining company, but he held an office job.
An older brother of Langston Hughes who died in infancy about the time Langston was born is buried at Fairview Cemetery, located on Joplin's Maiden Lane.
The Hughes family moved away from Joplin a year or so after Langston was born, about the time a black man was lynched in the town. In fact, the lynching was probably the impetus for the move, since many black families fled Joplin at that time.
In the 1970s the city of Joplin voted to rename Broadway Street after Langston Hughes, but not until after some controvery. There were those in the community who accused Hughes, based on some of his writings, of being a communist and such as that. There were also those who didn't like the proposal to rename the street Langston Hughes Boulevard, because they didn't want to abolish the old name "Broadway." A compromise was reached, and the street was renamed Langston Hughes Broadway. Today everyone, or almost everyone anyway, readily accepts the idea of having a street in Joplin named after Langston Hughes, but most locals still just call it Broadway.
Langston Hughes, for instance, was one of several well-known people who originally hailed from Joplin. Hughes was born in 1902 in a house at the southwest corner of 16th and Missouri. Actually it was probably more like a shack, since, at the time, the nearby area was a mining field, and most of the homes in the area were hastily thrown-up shanties that the miners lived in. Hughes's father, though, wasn't a miner as such. He worked for a mining company, but he held an office job.
An older brother of Langston Hughes who died in infancy about the time Langston was born is buried at Fairview Cemetery, located on Joplin's Maiden Lane.
The Hughes family moved away from Joplin a year or so after Langston was born, about the time a black man was lynched in the town. In fact, the lynching was probably the impetus for the move, since many black families fled Joplin at that time.
In the 1970s the city of Joplin voted to rename Broadway Street after Langston Hughes, but not until after some controvery. There were those in the community who accused Hughes, based on some of his writings, of being a communist and such as that. There were also those who didn't like the proposal to rename the street Langston Hughes Boulevard, because they didn't want to abolish the old name "Broadway." A compromise was reached, and the street was renamed Langston Hughes Broadway. Today everyone, or almost everyone anyway, readily accepts the idea of having a street in Joplin named after Langston Hughes, but most locals still just call it Broadway.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Monegaw Springs
A few months ago, I wrote a brief entry about Eldorado Springs in Cedar County, Missouri, and I noted that it was one of many towns throughout the Ozarks that sprang up during the mineral water craze of the later 1800s and early 1900s. In fact, nearly all towns in the region that have the words "springs" on the end of their name were founded as mineral-water spas or resorts.
One of the earliest such resort towns in the Ozarks was Monegaw Springs, located about nine or ten miles west of Osceola in St. Clair County, Missouri. It was established before the Civil War and, like its neighbor to the east, was burned by Jim Lane and his Kansas jayhawkers during the war. It was rebuilt and began to flourish as a resort after the Civil War. It was during this time that it became a hideout for the infamous Younger gang. The Youngers often frequented one of the town's hotels and an adjacent tavern, and they used a secluded cave on the nearby Osage River as a hideout. A bluff above the river near the cave became known locally as Younger Lookout.
Monegaw Springs, like many of the other spring-water towns, declined dramatically after the mineral-water craze passed, and its fate as a near ghost town was sealed when the building of the Baldwin Lakes cut off easy access to the town. Today, the once-thriving little resort town is located in an out-of-the-way spot that few people visit.
One of the earliest such resort towns in the Ozarks was Monegaw Springs, located about nine or ten miles west of Osceola in St. Clair County, Missouri. It was established before the Civil War and, like its neighbor to the east, was burned by Jim Lane and his Kansas jayhawkers during the war. It was rebuilt and began to flourish as a resort after the Civil War. It was during this time that it became a hideout for the infamous Younger gang. The Youngers often frequented one of the town's hotels and an adjacent tavern, and they used a secluded cave on the nearby Osage River as a hideout. A bluff above the river near the cave became known locally as Younger Lookout.
Monegaw Springs, like many of the other spring-water towns, declined dramatically after the mineral-water craze passed, and its fate as a near ghost town was sealed when the building of the Baldwin Lakes cut off easy access to the town. Today, the once-thriving little resort town is located in an out-of-the-way spot that few people visit.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Gadfly
I've mentioned in previous posts my fascination with small towns that no longer exist or that now exist under a different name. Another such place is the small community of Gadfly, located in Barry County about twelve miles northwest of Cassville or about five miles west of Purdy. Now called Corsicana, the town was founded prior to the Civil War, and it was mentioned several times in military reports filed during the war. The Union army had a detachment stationed there and operated a mill there during part of the war, and it was the site of at least one small skirmish.
In 1874, the town had several businesses and an estimated population of one hundred people. Two years later the name was changed, but the new town of Corsicana never flourished. Located off the beaten path, the village's population was never much more than the 100 people it boasted in 1874, and even that number declined over the years until Corsicana today is little more than a wide place in the road.
In 1874, the town had several businesses and an estimated population of one hundred people. Two years later the name was changed, but the new town of Corsicana never flourished. Located off the beaten path, the village's population was never much more than the 100 people it boasted in 1874, and even that number declined over the years until Corsicana today is little more than a wide place in the road.
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