tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2199348301754582872024-03-12T18:49:06.585-07:00Cami Mayer, Midwest travelerThis is a travel blog of small Midwest towns, which I explore for genealogical and historical purposes. You can email me at: CamiMayer11@yahoo.comCami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-37921989154367575812022-10-20T10:47:00.025-07:002022-10-20T16:43:32.696-07:00The voices of the brothel girls of the Wild West <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9t3SnaIaIf_j6DMBkAKLKu6CeQ0EDakWKl88EAzBu1FSQJGhlaXeGd4O1uxOtyX1ajA5wm8_xaI8t_YyQ-IPxr0bQMgC31ERm7yqohRTsvSJzNoPRT9iZsl0WDC1eQyKNvEcYZeWxCCckxie8AJQV1Ar3UCwJkrcExUU3W7PkrSzqqclYjIHb_O9sUQ/s1528/IMG_7514.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1528" data-original-width="1054" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9t3SnaIaIf_j6DMBkAKLKu6CeQ0EDakWKl88EAzBu1FSQJGhlaXeGd4O1uxOtyX1ajA5wm8_xaI8t_YyQ-IPxr0bQMgC31ERm7yqohRTsvSJzNoPRT9iZsl0WDC1eQyKNvEcYZeWxCCckxie8AJQV1Ar3UCwJkrcExUU3W7PkrSzqqclYjIHb_O9sUQ/s320/IMG_7514.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><p><br /></p>A few years ago, I helped a Canadian author research a prostitute from the 1880's in Kansas City. I discovered a rare book in the indexes of the Yale University Library: "The Kansas City Little Black Book". I requested it, but they couldn't do an interlibrary loan, so I asked them to scan and email it to me. They agreed! It is undated but it is definitely from around the turn of the center. I just stared at the names on the calling cards of the prostitutes (which are pictured here). Who were these women? What were they like? The desire to know them took root and grew strong in my heart. And thereafter, whenever I visited a historic town to explore, I searched their records for the brothel ladies, during that era. I tried to imagine their lives in the Wild West, servicing dangerous, rough, violent men. As I hunted, I became aware of an awful truth. These women's stories are buried because they were an embarrassment to the towns during the Victorian era. They were hidden to the point that there is little evidence of their existence. And yet......we honor the vicious criminals of that time with museums and statues and movies and books about Jesse James, Quantrill, Billy the Kid, Butch Cassidy, etc, etc, etc. <p></p><p>But I was in for a surprise one random day when I decided to treat myself to a drive up to Atchison Kansas to enjoy their magnificent Fall colors. I stopped first at the <a href="https://visitatchison.com" target="_blank">Visitor Center</a>, which just happens to house the <a href="https://atchisonhistory.org" target="_blank">Atchison County Historical Society</a>. As I entered, I decided to take a quick peek at their holdings. I was greeted by a young man, Sterling Falk. He is the Assistant Director of the Historical Society. I decided, impromptu, to ask him about the prostitutes of their town. I didn't expect much of a reply. I assumed this was another town that deemed that part of their history taboo. So, I was astounded when Sterling went right to work, and vigorously. He immediately started pulling up one story after another. Jan, from the <a href="http://www.ackgs.com" target="_blank">Genealogical Society</a>, was also there, and enthusiastically joined in the discussion. They sent me to the <a href="https://www.eatatriverhouse.com" target="_blank">Riverhouse Restaurant</a>, a rumored brothel, while they continued to dig. So off I went!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnu5pqMzXCnNkDRuKLioZ9vkgIv-_AhqvzQoU1if5o5zeyDyGkUyrouRXupGKbnyixqSETv4y5P0IaDgbbj2NoqmQXMN4x892UgFnztBaOoaWN1QibxMBJFCpcOAqQ38z7zY4dQof5S_t9QN6H-f8f9rFks2DyFtkuSXhrRQgrBm3vhZaTg6ISUDZ6MQ/s4032/B35B2CFB-E78A-470C-A7A1-71D62502CFFD.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnu5pqMzXCnNkDRuKLioZ9vkgIv-_AhqvzQoU1if5o5zeyDyGkUyrouRXupGKbnyixqSETv4y5P0IaDgbbj2NoqmQXMN4x892UgFnztBaOoaWN1QibxMBJFCpcOAqQ38z7zY4dQof5S_t9QN6H-f8f9rFks2DyFtkuSXhrRQgrBm3vhZaTg6ISUDZ6MQ/s320/B35B2CFB-E78A-470C-A7A1-71D62502CFFD.heic" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>When I arrived, it was closed. But there was a man standing outside who told me I could go inside. He said he was with the<a href="https://www.atchisonrotary.org" target="_blank"> Rotary Club</a> and they were having a meeting upstairs. He was the Club greeter and allowed me entrance. So I explored the beautifully maintained historical interior. I moved up the carved staircase, and arrived at the Club sign-in table on the second floor. I explained quickly what I was doing there, and a woman, shockingly, told me she had recently received an email about the history of the building. She introduced herself as Peggy, and showed me the email. I was stunned to see all the information I was looking for. It had been a brothel(!), and Peggy even had the names of the Madame and the girls who worked there. What is the probability that I would be able to enter a closed restaurant.... to find a women who just happened to have the precise information I was looking for??!! Astronomical odds. I was certain then that these prostitutes wanted to be found and have their stories heard.<div><br /></div><div>I hurried back to the Historical Society to share Peggy's find. Sterling surprised me with a picture of the brothel from that era that he had dug up in the <a href="https://atchisonhistory.org" target="_blank">Historical Society's</a> archives:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqOeB7Np30Pdr1WXyA1EKQ9TRgrNYeYEGZzv82inVAhAq8vjrj4wQtOaO1vi_q-CVDSZY8i4q7PEi523_oW3QriTUgVIPVq-TlOT_N18oTp8jT6Nup7i4plQLN2hLAmAkqsdKS3ejTASHg_y-DM1ZJ3eUWTKGM8Ko2153EGhpI6A1yT8e6nDBmFZ30w/s2580/P-2167%20001%201913-1st-Commercial-Riverhouse.TIF" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1619" data-original-width="2580" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqOeB7Np30Pdr1WXyA1EKQ9TRgrNYeYEGZzv82inVAhAq8vjrj4wQtOaO1vi_q-CVDSZY8i4q7PEi523_oW3QriTUgVIPVq-TlOT_N18oTp8jT6Nup7i4plQLN2hLAmAkqsdKS3ejTASHg_y-DM1ZJ3eUWTKGM8Ko2153EGhpI6A1yT8e6nDBmFZ30w/s320/P-2167%20001%201913-1st-Commercial-Riverhouse.TIF" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Can you see the resemblance of the brothel then to the Riverhouse Restaurant today (first photo)? In the back portion - the rooms with the thin slits for windows, look suspiciously like cribs. Those were tiny rooms relegated to older prostitutes, who had aged out, and earned far less money. The younger women were given the larger, more luxurious rooms at the front of the house.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you, Riverhouse Restaurant and Atchison County Historical Society, for preserving this history and these women's stories. </div><div><br /></div><div>I now turned to the list of names that Peggy had given me. Sterling and I set to work. Sterling has such an energy of determination and great love for the riches of the past - that he can discover anything waiting to be found. He is one of the best researchers I have ever encountered, because he is tenacious and is driven by the passion of the hunt.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so we dug deep. I was profoundly thankful for what we unearthed. Atchison did not bury these women out of shame. Newspaper articles from the 1860's to 1915 shared their stories, unlike anything I have ever seen. I am so proud of this town for honoring these women. These 13 year-old girls didn't wake up one day and tell their mothers - "I want to be a prostitute when I grow up, Mom!" We soon learned these girls had no options. Here is one reason why:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELg-wczFuiUZAyvgZDcHE2pCiLVKy71tTidtGED8oq__33axWRyo4Sm70EwhP4M4P3M_MP1Lp0fyXlfe7Sb3hj4GnDiY8_s7MxQpHv2WNgznJNhb__bvPAtkaHb91G9sijE5Frl-WalxRZhhsCPCnrkeFTMYYKRJ07OuKsj78OSpg0rep7d3a9gV3Wg/s1223/IMG_1087.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1223" data-original-width="542" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELg-wczFuiUZAyvgZDcHE2pCiLVKy71tTidtGED8oq__33axWRyo4Sm70EwhP4M4P3M_MP1Lp0fyXlfe7Sb3hj4GnDiY8_s7MxQpHv2WNgznJNhb__bvPAtkaHb91G9sijE5Frl-WalxRZhhsCPCnrkeFTMYYKRJ07OuKsj78OSpg0rep7d3a9gV3Wg/s320/IMG_1087.jpg" width="142" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>This is the story of Julia. Tragically, it is a common one. She was a teenager, well-educated, and from a good family. She attended a society ball where she met a young gentleman, who pledged to marry her. Before the wedding, she became pregnant, and the man quickly disappeared. Julia was thrust out of "polite" society. Those who considered themselves respectable, including her own family, turned their backs on her. She was a permanent outcast. She was denounced with great shame, and in believing that as truth, she felt she belonged in a "house of shame". I have read article after article of similar girls commiting suicide within the first year. </div><div><br /></div><div>Helen King, age 21, died from swallowing carbolic acid. Her mother attended her funeral, sobbing wildly and kissing her dead lips. Her father refused to attend.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lily Crooker, age 15, deliberately overdosed on morphine. She had worked in the brothel for 5 months. Her funeral was attended only by two dozen prostitutes. Not a single man was seen. There was no minister. The fallen women followed the hearse silently and respectfully. Without song or prayer, Lily was laid in the ground. Not even a benediction was offered. I appreciate the recounting of this event by the Atchison Daily Champion, November 16, 1875.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am also deeply grateful to the Sunday Morning Call newspaper, of June 3, 1883, in which an editor wrote a scathing censure of the society that had forced these girls into these positions. It upbraided the silent partners of the bawdy houses - who provided the houses to be rented as brothels. These men were town leaders and professional business owners. They frequented the places for services themselves. The editor also scorned the respectable wives who drew a "dead line" in the sand between virtuous women and vile women, even between themselves and their own daughters. That phrase - a dead line in the sand - penetrated my own conscience. I hope I never participate in that grotesque attitude. These girls needed understanding, help, and compassion. I trust our advanced society of today will grant that to each soul in destitution.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another reason many of the young girls entered the world of prostitution is because they often worked in filthy, darkened factories, toiling away, with no vision for change during their lifetimes. They would then emerge from their hard labors each day to see the established prostitutes, parading through town - dressed lavishly in elegant gowns with jewels, laughing and appearing carefree. The girls only viewed the outward show of luxury and comfort; and thus, in their vulnerability, were easily recruited. Once inside the dens, they experienced the horrors of misery that awaited them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am so movingly impressed with the town of Atchison, Kansas for their tender handling of these women and their life stories. In 1874, the state provided a free hospital for the prostitutes affected by venereal disease. A House of Industry was also being build to help the women transition into other careers.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have encouraged Sterling to write a book about the full stories of these women, and sell it in the Historical Society's gift shop. If Sterling is unable to take this on, I hope someone will take our research (which includes mounds of papers), and do these women a great honor by preserving their lives in permanent print. They deserve to be heard. Far more so, I believe, than the vicious outlaws we spotlight and idealize. These lone women braved a world we could never possibly imagine.</div><div><br /></div><div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBfiv-MwYjI1UlJTOSPLrRpOEWo4_hY2V_soFBKSxSCAifEMDS2d96Fm0wIc-ozyZkXYqJi2CQ0wT_N-mtuJMw0zi4Ni6kXoV5Md3KeCBvfpAYCo_EBMGP8FTvItDHIHVqlZAm3ifIQjsKIhCK9zmU1gR1hTKmUubJTEeZlbTEwyZHeeBaIMSGqpaoA/s2580/P-2167%20001%201913-1st-Commercial-Riverhouse.TIF" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><p></p></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-87313811492312382472022-09-05T10:37:00.001-07:002022-09-05T10:37:38.827-07:00Intriguing Smithville Missouri <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNWbbDG6bi1fLz5NemLE7QzuGcvV6At51EIFJLL7LcP0lxeKEmsKW9JSiw_jX8w0U3ibUtFl51TDRu7Xf4SUjCmqddxIhJKQ22XKkE3DNqAF8k_8Qub-6xZskOoorPJlNW8Uf5a2yPSdzOTkuKeizDvjxv-kQL710JjWVgQLEdtGr4dmd2UHEY_mxCQ/s4032/IMG_7377.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNWbbDG6bi1fLz5NemLE7QzuGcvV6At51EIFJLL7LcP0lxeKEmsKW9JSiw_jX8w0U3ibUtFl51TDRu7Xf4SUjCmqddxIhJKQ22XKkE3DNqAF8k_8Qub-6xZskOoorPJlNW8Uf5a2yPSdzOTkuKeizDvjxv-kQL710JjWVgQLEdtGr4dmd2UHEY_mxCQ/s320/IMG_7377.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">A pleasant country highway takes you north of Kansas City, and passes through a quietly growing town. Smithville Missouri emerged in the wild Midwest prairie in 1822, when Humphrey and Nancy Smith arrived. They were both from New York and seemingly resettled in Missouri to help see the territory become a free state. Humphrey was a strongly verbal opponent of slavery, thus garnering the nickname "Yankee Smith". The couple tenaciously endured the violent hatred and physical attacks of many neighbors. They were once dragged out of their home at the midnight hour by 15 men and savagely beaten. Can you imagine the horror of their 8 children witnessing such a thing? For the safety of their family, they eventually moved to the anti-slavery territory of Iowa. But what incredible determination to stand against the hellacious industry of enslavement. Now that is the true definition of "grit" of the Old Wild West.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">You can imagine my delight when I pulled into the historic district and spotted a building from the 1800's bearing Humphrey's name. I was eager to meet the owners, who had honored the Smiths. David and Tiffany own <a href="https://www.facebook.com/HumphreysGrillKC/about/?ref=page_internal" target="_blank">Humphrey's Bar & Grill</a>. They are impassioned chroniclers of the Smiths' story. It is thrilling to listen to them regale the tales with such vibrancy. They have done Smithville a great homage in spotlighting their noble past. Be sure to study the murals done by <a href="https://kcmural.com/murals/" target="_blank">Steven Bohall</a> and the photos with descriptions on the walls.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTIwNI6YNU_1UTCc0Hlr54mMIskXuFNcpx8sU1BviQdO776KuEBrMHXnvLIFs1WKqbAMOTQZ4RqBHgbU2V2F7B5Em1V_B0bG_NIBug6jIfItUmOh2eRr_mqy63MxXFhRkRpLVRGQKEZjW8WRX0BQEltHzSIYRzHE0CrCFr9Sy6c0NIhoskNoOrASlBQ/s4032/IMG_7355.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTIwNI6YNU_1UTCc0Hlr54mMIskXuFNcpx8sU1BviQdO776KuEBrMHXnvLIFs1WKqbAMOTQZ4RqBHgbU2V2F7B5Em1V_B0bG_NIBug6jIfItUmOh2eRr_mqy63MxXFhRkRpLVRGQKEZjW8WRX0BQEltHzSIYRzHE0CrCFr9Sy6c0NIhoskNoOrASlBQ/s320/IMG_7355.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgZBO3S0Ewn7X0aCpwtYz_e9_106G1UUGTUwgNCMFnPKyqo-LMtyOijZadMgcGvUwta0X-hKmn2UySQtEzF4aZraUw2P8vtsOeXy3SLhJE7DL9-zCxKmXSKCyK0QHdaS8yPXKM0_u2btGZffjGo59Jz1Efm9oxa8LSy6LXEZ9RBXLk9fRdi-yvchoAQ/s4032/IMG_7356.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgZBO3S0Ewn7X0aCpwtYz_e9_106G1UUGTUwgNCMFnPKyqo-LMtyOijZadMgcGvUwta0X-hKmn2UySQtEzF4aZraUw2P8vtsOeXy3SLhJE7DL9-zCxKmXSKCyK0QHdaS8yPXKM0_u2btGZffjGo59Jz1Efm9oxa8LSy6LXEZ9RBXLk9fRdi-yvchoAQ/s320/IMG_7356.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It is quite a destination place. They even bring in astounding local bands, like one of my favorites - <a href="https://www.facebook.com/hatchofficialmusic" target="_blank">Hatch</a>.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQBQf8LdIbUDI5NXPnIrJZLaRcMuzT4Wqg6q58lzV6u6fc8HzHUzFhAfb4Yfp1If8HNFNfZzlzK74IfP6UmE9d1RVWWrLquxyD-MxhMZ6XaH2u43h7jdCpvFyEP2KswVcKuCqYEvdWgGMSi8YZxfRhsH35poQkaJK6tdiVzJI1vKU95nvtiVf6Mj3WQ/s4032/IMG_7398.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQBQf8LdIbUDI5NXPnIrJZLaRcMuzT4Wqg6q58lzV6u6fc8HzHUzFhAfb4Yfp1If8HNFNfZzlzK74IfP6UmE9d1RVWWrLquxyD-MxhMZ6XaH2u43h7jdCpvFyEP2KswVcKuCqYEvdWgGMSi8YZxfRhsH35poQkaJK6tdiVzJI1vKU95nvtiVf6Mj3WQ/s320/IMG_7398.heic" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Come and enjoy a visit with David and Tiffany, good comforting food, and fun live music. It makes for a perfect evening.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">While in town, explore the rest of the fascinating historic district. Definitely see the flood level line from the 1960's. I am standing in front of it in the first photo. Thankfully, the Corps of Engineers built Smithville Lake to help with the continual flooding problem. And that is a real treat to the region. Go and see its beauty and create fun memories at the swim beaches, campsites, marina, trails, and picnic shelters. Huge kudos to Smithville for this lake for us all to enjoy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Back on the historic square, I visited the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NotTooShabbyBoutiqueSmithville/" target="_blank">Not Too Shabby Boutique</a>, where Alicia (the owner) and I chatted about the history of her building, while I perused her lovely shop. It makes me happy when proprietors know the story of their ancient establishments. Discussing it while shopping heightens the experience. Ask Alicia about the still-active Freemason Order upstairs. So interesting.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHiXCd6Z_hleC4aCOX_Apo_uJhv6Q6eW_SGbtgB8WITpYwlXN4LYS6frSjVDlSlAqg3vQVNQK05Ojdxp6016siTzw36E2ZUE7NIxMw_JQIbDvAJn02ZMtTerbcxMix1TPnyrp9840hP-c4o062ByiN9gIId9D5GeHlFllbrbKkURAKMmUGpFtUZPXlQ/s4032/IMG_7339.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHiXCd6Z_hleC4aCOX_Apo_uJhv6Q6eW_SGbtgB8WITpYwlXN4LYS6frSjVDlSlAqg3vQVNQK05Ojdxp6016siTzw36E2ZUE7NIxMw_JQIbDvAJn02ZMtTerbcxMix1TPnyrp9840hP-c4o062ByiN9gIId9D5GeHlFllbrbKkURAKMmUGpFtUZPXlQ/s320/IMG_7339.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I stopped into <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CornerstoneCoffeeSmithville/" target="_blank">Cornerstone Coffee</a> for a yummy Chai tea Frappe, as my personal greeting to the approaching Autumn.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T6J3GBq_0UljaKjsA8G0UYdSFdTrF7CuYTk2ug3Uh6r29vqLu_EW6h-_JLAze9QM5VS0xFT0tP-0n1VL6mxDhyVbILnUbAJSVANhnlT7bHyrYT6JvHfvDuPdaQavPteZYEsoZRC5TeVLYtpBnVT6b7LYKSGhmUUojCAz5OlVztqmkfWty_HWlQNiZQ/s4032/IMG_7333.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T6J3GBq_0UljaKjsA8G0UYdSFdTrF7CuYTk2ug3Uh6r29vqLu_EW6h-_JLAze9QM5VS0xFT0tP-0n1VL6mxDhyVbILnUbAJSVANhnlT7bHyrYT6JvHfvDuPdaQavPteZYEsoZRC5TeVLYtpBnVT6b7LYKSGhmUUojCAz5OlVztqmkfWty_HWlQNiZQ/s320/IMG_7333.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Leeah, the owner, showed me the Cannonball Safe that has remained in the building ever since it was a bank many, many decades ago. I had never seen anything like it. See what interesting discoveries you can make by stopping into each store on an historic square!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3-tB3lSGI3n1DlOF6FvUbv8srnutLL2UVjpSzBEpJaJCLdC2kvQ3lH7Sjs1jR032hBhVllXiMFEfSqHj2Y8CCYsVcw3-hsrohmhbfFd9ApJc4BO2K8Qonp7ANDKoILSzoME11xUPy0SuOVlGVg8WIYF7yvaN-1hI4yY2ddx0qjri_-opcLGi49--mg/s4032/IMG_7334.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3-tB3lSGI3n1DlOF6FvUbv8srnutLL2UVjpSzBEpJaJCLdC2kvQ3lH7Sjs1jR032hBhVllXiMFEfSqHj2Y8CCYsVcw3-hsrohmhbfFd9ApJc4BO2K8Qonp7ANDKoILSzoME11xUPy0SuOVlGVg8WIYF7yvaN-1hI4yY2ddx0qjri_-opcLGi49--mg/s320/IMG_7334.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://jeansflowerssmithville.com" target="_blank">Jean's Flower Shop</a> is so serenely charming that you would never know it used to be a saloon in the 1920's. Pete Bowen's Saloon. I bet that held some zesty stories. A saloon in the Roaring 20's: the era of flappers, F. Scott Fitzgerald, prohibition....</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguiI0JahJ_ZcWx8qcz7vUd2eiiUE6edpO1fj4QSexc7PlwCMwo4fa7GCJXunsEZyjn3ydpylMmh3vkhpFxybkXea_9a7wqCe4G9HdL6X28YQjNWhPtXy6spFJiH008Tyv-SJUiYzJ99LH6yOmi9U146X_JmBrCaw6pcucvsEwXv1ir5u-tfST5Xr4EQw/s4032/IMG_7346.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguiI0JahJ_ZcWx8qcz7vUd2eiiUE6edpO1fj4QSexc7PlwCMwo4fa7GCJXunsEZyjn3ydpylMmh3vkhpFxybkXea_9a7wqCe4G9HdL6X28YQjNWhPtXy6spFJiH008Tyv-SJUiYzJ99LH6yOmi9U146X_JmBrCaw6pcucvsEwXv1ir5u-tfST5Xr4EQw/s320/IMG_7346.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I finished my day in Smithville at <a href="https://www.chopsbbqandcatering.com/menu" target="_blank">Chops BBQ</a>. I ordered a salad and received a very generous plate with their Ranch dressing made in-house. Then I topped it with their own sweet BBQ sauce. Heaven!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I will return to Smithville often. It has dropped a magnet in my heart. I hope you, too, will come visit this extra special spot on the earth.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-79266639977517436732022-08-27T07:55:00.006-07:002022-08-27T18:06:43.865-07:00The sweet town of Oskaloosa, Kansas 🌻<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC96OYUjs9VZBEM_gFgGHAqUytSZl4lhhpKVEYtobBXl1AohwQeWPKCgKbtdxy9pyOlnqSLX91WjIkoWSXAeu1oHqxuYr9AYUHP2fA64_-osqK4frmIw4VJoSbt8QfHWPKjBUnP_pu_NIJjLlb76zA1pXMJecxwe0oxWz0IZt7NV8zjPQsNNz9k517Kw/s3971/74C545F9-EC77-4D05-9548-E6E7DB599BFF.heic" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1817" data-original-width="3971" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC96OYUjs9VZBEM_gFgGHAqUytSZl4lhhpKVEYtobBXl1AohwQeWPKCgKbtdxy9pyOlnqSLX91WjIkoWSXAeu1oHqxuYr9AYUHP2fA64_-osqK4frmIw4VJoSbt8QfHWPKjBUnP_pu_NIJjLlb76zA1pXMJecxwe0oxWz0IZt7NV8zjPQsNNz9k517Kw/s320/74C545F9-EC77-4D05-9548-E6E7DB599BFF.heic" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><p>Who is Ashlie who imparted this endearing sentiment to the world? I met Ashlie, in a way, when I visited the tranquil town of Oskaloosa Kansas. Her words are written on every menu and on the wall of<a href="https://m.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100083316130475&_rdr" target="_blank"> Ashlie's Homestyle Restaurant</a>. It is a charming cafe, with a warmly welcoming owner, Denise. She explained that this was Ashlie's life phrase. Ashlie was her daughter. Was. I could sense the poignancy, as I learned that Ashlie had died at age 29. And yet, amid such momentous sorrow, she had gifted us all with this cheering thought. "Smile, It's worth the wrinkles". I instantly felt as if I bonded with Ashlie. In her mother's own bright smile. In my mother's smile that infectiously evoked others to smile. Mom, who was a stewardess several decades ago, always told her daughters: "the most beautiful thing a woman can wear is a smile". Mom knew the secret. So did Ashlie. I immediately knew I was going to like this town, and its people.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6BTyUwUeR82B8Nidby6juNwBCWq8LztRTLQmdBpO77E5lsZIKku5x14DAd7zNrCXILNm0Irx8ahExCR_JVAARCh0nBQXGFzy0r8vgIb-s_tqxkiTu1qvlSm2X_NR96gZSveiWEP9a8fzNeo-Uw9UxrfWC0K-843QkAqB7r3zygLQYm-kZlTR7zVboA/s4032/0E14A8A5-8B64-4FEC-B1FB-9DAF837EDC27.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6BTyUwUeR82B8Nidby6juNwBCWq8LztRTLQmdBpO77E5lsZIKku5x14DAd7zNrCXILNm0Irx8ahExCR_JVAARCh0nBQXGFzy0r8vgIb-s_tqxkiTu1qvlSm2X_NR96gZSveiWEP9a8fzNeo-Uw9UxrfWC0K-843QkAqB7r3zygLQYm-kZlTR7zVboA/s320/0E14A8A5-8B64-4FEC-B1FB-9DAF837EDC27.heic" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>I strolled around the town square, and entered the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CountryCornerVarietyStore/" target="_blank">Country Corner Variety</a>. It offers daily wares, as well as a diner and ice cream parlor. I saw an older couple enjoying their breakfast, so I took a seat at the table next to them, and struck up a conversation. I was delighted by their robust response. I questioned them about the history of their town. The gentleman told me his grandfather, Tom McCarter, had journeyed there from North Carolina to help his uncle on his farm. Tom liked Oskaloosa so much, that he decided to move to there. So he told his uncle he was going home to get a wife, and he would return soon. When he arrived back in North Carolina, he went to visit two sisters. Right on the spot, he proposed to them both! He asked which one of them wanted to return to Kansas with him. Shockingly, the sisters discussed it amongst themselves. One wanted adventure, and the other was content as is. So the decision was made. Tom and his wife were married a lifetime and had five children. I left the shop laughing over such a remarkable story from an unimaginable era. I knew I had to head directly to the Historical Society to see what life was like on this prairie in those long-ago days.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzerbeCFpMRpmj_hPiqhPLcnQvoEjaqzUUuEwH8I8xyfKlMJwwmflr6TEHgWLWnelm-FRCABtzeUa__7kwHTDqqs_RRX55CS5JecHL801Le8scp0wvxq4-UcwJxSPBNa1vy9cYDyA4-PKjIpOjkgPB-w5igTvwjHnIjGyZ0iHloD8UDBuy2HGxB6RdA/s4032/35D562AA-CAF1-4B86-917B-71DC84CC0A98.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzerbeCFpMRpmj_hPiqhPLcnQvoEjaqzUUuEwH8I8xyfKlMJwwmflr6TEHgWLWnelm-FRCABtzeUa__7kwHTDqqs_RRX55CS5JecHL801Le8scp0wvxq4-UcwJxSPBNa1vy9cYDyA4-PKjIpOjkgPB-w5igTvwjHnIjGyZ0iHloD8UDBuy2HGxB6RdA/s320/35D562AA-CAF1-4B86-917B-71DC84CC0A98.heic" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Oskaloosa has tidily provided their town History Museum, Genealogical Society, and Historical Society all in one location: <a href="https://www.oldjeffersontown.com" target="_blank"> Old Jefferson Town</a>. It is such a treat to find all 3 in one spot. The Museum consists of multiple historic buildings, each one decorated as it was in its original state. One of the buildings contains the combined genealogical/historical societies. </p><p>I quickly met all the volunteers. They are delightful people who have an infectious enthusiasm for preserving the County's history. I was extremely impressed by their committed, meticulous work. Their holdings are enormous, and yet these folks are carefully organizing, digitizing, and indexing it all. It is an unending project, but these types of people are relentless to safeguard our history. I am extremely grateful. And guess what? They even have a file on Tom McCarter. I hope that sweet, older gentleman in the diner will come and discover his ancestors in this place. The main historian, Leanne Chapman, told me about Dr. George Lowman, who was the town surgeon in the late 1800's. He lost his arm in the Civil War. I still can't stop thinking about how a doctor, with one arm, could perform surgery!</p><p> There are so many stories of our families being held in every repository. Our ancestors are longing for us to find them and hear about their lives. What a gift to each of us personally. Thank you, Oskaloosa, for keeping our heritage until we can find it. And if your ancestors came from this County, please contact the <a href="https://www.oldjeffersontown.com" target="_blank">Historical Society</a>. They are waiting and wanting to help you. It is their extreme passion and happiness to do so.</p></span><p></p>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-11135741445642549482022-06-29T11:28:00.003-07:002022-08-16T06:55:25.565-07:00Inside an Insane Asylum (reader warning)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDsAhlRan_y9adnSyumf3nVuSqBPkn5hI1-eSmBl6zW4FT7cqgJBYjmgwl3dMu-6Exy7O7yJmr04FT3X70ylA0VmbYttlO9mO9nHAAEdXNFLZ_GSH2vue3q7SQzM1kDNxiphoho9E-AfrKqCRO2GqSEIQ-Rwmbbey-4QlAI8Rr_4jatCkJn_Voyl4xg/s2048/3BF48832-69FA-4BB3-9B96-F812ADA5F347.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDsAhlRan_y9adnSyumf3nVuSqBPkn5hI1-eSmBl6zW4FT7cqgJBYjmgwl3dMu-6Exy7O7yJmr04FT3X70ylA0VmbYttlO9mO9nHAAEdXNFLZ_GSH2vue3q7SQzM1kDNxiphoho9E-AfrKqCRO2GqSEIQ-Rwmbbey-4QlAI8Rr_4jatCkJn_Voyl4xg/s320/3BF48832-69FA-4BB3-9B96-F812ADA5F347.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>A few years ago, I drove up to St. Joseph, Missouri to see the <a href="https://www.stjosephmuseum.org/glore-psychiatric-museum" target="_blank">Glore Psychiatric Museum</a>. I sat in the parking lot staring at it. I couldn't get out of the car. I was too afraid to go by myself. I feared I would have nightmares for weeks to come - that I wouldn't be able to get the images out of my mind, and I would be shattered for the patients. So I drove the long hour back home. Since then, many people have told me it is one of the best medical museums in the region. As I was a previous surgical nurse in San Diego, I felt I should go and gain understanding. So I drove back up to St. Joseph. <div><br /></div><div>I immediately tensed as I entered the historic building. But the welcoming staff are so perceptively considerate, that they instantly calmed my apprehensions. Jerrad and Cody were constantly available to readily answer my questions with engaging insights. </div><div><br /></div><div>I started by watching a video about the Hospital's past. It was built in 1874 and titled "the State Lunatic Asylum #2". It was a massive campus with multiple structures. It housed up to 3,000 residents. Cody took me through this tunnel that connected the buildings. Art therapy was important here (as well as music therapy). The patients decorated the walls of the tunnel. Their artwork is expressive and beautiful and profoundly moving.</div><div><br /></div><div>As you scroll down to view treatment modalities, I beg you to remember that this facility was one of compassion. The stringent employee rules required that the patients be treated with honor and tender empathy. The patients and the buildings were kept freshly cleaned throughout each day and night. Breaching a rule resulted in immediate dismissal of the employee. </div><div><br /></div><div>The patients were productive, providing their lives with purpose. Have you ever experienced a life interval that seems to lack meaning or usefulness? It can feel like lostness. It can be discouraging. But an occupied life provides a sense of satisfaction from accomplishment. It feels good. So the patients were able to help on the Hospital's poultry farm, dairy farm, in the maintenance barn making agricultural tools, etc. </div><div><br /></div><div>So as you view the next photos, please remember that in the 1800's, the treatments then were considered progressive and helpful. They wanted to see the patients improve. It wasn't considered torture at all. Of course, now we see it as horrifically barbaric. A modern psychiatric doctor, said in the video - that he is concerned that in 100 years, they will look back at our current treatments and see them as inhumane. Every era tries their best with what they have and what they know at the time.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBr_gEMeZsQzG_-k0XI9f8PfK9TbpBJlAze1T8WdStJp3wLn435PBuwjWlXgqytULcpmrLGR1T3j2xIjaeeCyodPE7XZrDWR2wNvefk8BYtjbOnTQ-edDg6mAFPbJNKvJiZ5SwCwreeF5NUqvKwy5wbzUdo9KTtge88ZMsOX_8duJkzMvb0DYq-KOCyQ/s2048/764FD0F7-B550-4E9F-B4BF-FB633F9BB5C8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBr_gEMeZsQzG_-k0XI9f8PfK9TbpBJlAze1T8WdStJp3wLn435PBuwjWlXgqytULcpmrLGR1T3j2xIjaeeCyodPE7XZrDWR2wNvefk8BYtjbOnTQ-edDg6mAFPbJNKvJiZ5SwCwreeF5NUqvKwy5wbzUdo9KTtge88ZMsOX_8duJkzMvb0DYq-KOCyQ/s320/764FD0F7-B550-4E9F-B4BF-FB633F9BB5C8.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwkolY5lyKxgzbNYvES__ELrLO53J7EoT60c9aqryn_8YZpyFtz1_D681fe1yKNzbzCmLn00F2OchNDxnb7GuEC2SWjgBPtR5XxCpaXNHi6MUNgeHBBqelclAyDaM5ma_LRqZ_KHvnOhfSaSlzGo7ZlqOhGpeRGAGQQEIlris17tHkbPyBzVv1mDwI1g/s2048/2B7D4F8E-6F77-48FC-9C47-EED6951BB788.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwkolY5lyKxgzbNYvES__ELrLO53J7EoT60c9aqryn_8YZpyFtz1_D681fe1yKNzbzCmLn00F2OchNDxnb7GuEC2SWjgBPtR5XxCpaXNHi6MUNgeHBBqelclAyDaM5ma_LRqZ_KHvnOhfSaSlzGo7ZlqOhGpeRGAGQQEIlris17tHkbPyBzVv1mDwI1g/s320/2B7D4F8E-6F77-48FC-9C47-EED6951BB788.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>These are restraint cages to protect the patients from hurting themselves or others.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3CY9YkW5e56PuX7Ef1CSTcLtDKV4wuUB6v3r7bM4Uyu6i0w4Sk9eCV7WsOtF26oyhZWjfhH4-m3UJTqeRDgrD4J-j-12_vCG8JrZHmFVQR97aZDXbCrhqvTCstDBRYKoklE641s_K80XQfosUZ8inMYeSoB5AJ4ustBoa1-2y-RHWQld3YgyIFF3NQ/s2048/01169ACE-EBC5-47A1-BBC5-CE729361559C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3CY9YkW5e56PuX7Ef1CSTcLtDKV4wuUB6v3r7bM4Uyu6i0w4Sk9eCV7WsOtF26oyhZWjfhH4-m3UJTqeRDgrD4J-j-12_vCG8JrZHmFVQR97aZDXbCrhqvTCstDBRYKoklE641s_K80XQfosUZ8inMYeSoB5AJ4ustBoa1-2y-RHWQld3YgyIFF3NQ/s320/01169ACE-EBC5-47A1-BBC5-CE729361559C.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>The Hollow Wheel was a treadmill design, in which the patient was locked. It forced him into motion, with the goal of focusing his aberrant thoughts into reality. He was kept in the wheel for up to 48 hours, until his mind had settled. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeAf7mqyLUTDsg-YdwofcI-FWa8n4nBi9_YUtlhAvALW9UzBV-MiwfkcyGBBM5BUudVC2wr7sdP2BtiP6kQEI1T1Ts0nyywpFuzDphKqG989LDZD03tRQBXtQglgsIyV0ITQhHLINxspKJ4GJzZ5DbomLpUfkNFbREwzPjIOy9VbZ0SyjaMq7Qkaeiw/s2048/B554A2AB-48AD-4013-B05C-78B923907C31.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeAf7mqyLUTDsg-YdwofcI-FWa8n4nBi9_YUtlhAvALW9UzBV-MiwfkcyGBBM5BUudVC2wr7sdP2BtiP6kQEI1T1Ts0nyywpFuzDphKqG989LDZD03tRQBXtQglgsIyV0ITQhHLINxspKJ4GJzZ5DbomLpUfkNFbREwzPjIOy9VbZ0SyjaMq7Qkaeiw/s320/B554A2AB-48AD-4013-B05C-78B923907C31.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>The Lunatic Box was for standing only. The patient was placed in here in order to help him regain calm. The wooden slat could be dropped over the patient's face, to diminish external stimulation. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCyIvbbuvoDAcpm8v3yHxR2p4TtiFhok7A6r3oxfzbi51Y7NffEqcZKRUZv09bFCTkBmFghbne-lNaG60mtpR5IbLJJ6KWYuGURxqCRX4QFJdmLClX7FuzpBVgWBo5lciBEiHJquSptY633NPeN0LETdWBKiGtxojkbPmnic2Naj-m-gH4n7Ef4ytVKg/s3669/FB6E5620-3A8C-4870-9D83-70D12DF94955.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2804" data-original-width="3669" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCyIvbbuvoDAcpm8v3yHxR2p4TtiFhok7A6r3oxfzbi51Y7NffEqcZKRUZv09bFCTkBmFghbne-lNaG60mtpR5IbLJJ6KWYuGURxqCRX4QFJdmLClX7FuzpBVgWBo5lciBEiHJquSptY633NPeN0LETdWBKiGtxojkbPmnic2Naj-m-gH4n7Ef4ytVKg/s320/FB6E5620-3A8C-4870-9D83-70D12DF94955.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>The patient exhibits are on the second floor of the museum. With this one, I had to exit the building to catch my breath. In 1910, a 31 year old patient suddenly died. Her autopsy revealed 1,446 objects in her stomach: nails, bolts, and jewelry.</div><div><br /></div><div>I walked about outside for quite awhile. I could not return to the second floor. I apologize that this blog does not completely cover the museum. I hope you will go and see for yourself all that they have. I walked over to see the Woodson Academy, for "emotionally disturbed" students.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRg1IiahOkAbpqt0Z4SU-38tcKYT9TIDS5igV9xD3CxKoO4VdGLxtIMwXG3XpCwb8kvrUuglaaaCj2UjKW9a4TMMhhMIuj5H9xNi_PfEO93PgcTJDGFja2fQ5bWKJMbFaG1ZxRdtf2XsKVAOI6cMbhvW-yBBNrQCyl2UocscOy0TnaGf5aeTYNhFzHw/s2048/9A8C5F38-8510-4555-8770-7752E89958BA.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRg1IiahOkAbpqt0Z4SU-38tcKYT9TIDS5igV9xD3CxKoO4VdGLxtIMwXG3XpCwb8kvrUuglaaaCj2UjKW9a4TMMhhMIuj5H9xNi_PfEO93PgcTJDGFja2fQ5bWKJMbFaG1ZxRdtf2XsKVAOI6cMbhvW-yBBNrQCyl2UocscOy0TnaGf5aeTYNhFzHw/s320/9A8C5F38-8510-4555-8770-7752E89958BA.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It is unused today and will be torn down. I went back inside the museum to see the Academy's display. I was astounded.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXKb5Obe-i7skEYBB1Giwcf5qxGx0szuriuJcqS2dyiWAQw9DtmzNrtwcqAhWIBnES8r16DkOyQKwlgSVO51yU6cybotoiVUvWHg6YulHmtOKitGBqEwwZd-_UBVQMw3SPMz4ZzNEv5yIpHljpyQXzaPhS5J4ssto8MNHRKU6n7j2oKW2op2rm2WQHg/s2048/D8157EFC-F524-4EA2-99D6-1B02CA6BE059.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXKb5Obe-i7skEYBB1Giwcf5qxGx0szuriuJcqS2dyiWAQw9DtmzNrtwcqAhWIBnES8r16DkOyQKwlgSVO51yU6cybotoiVUvWHg6YulHmtOKitGBqEwwZd-_UBVQMw3SPMz4ZzNEv5yIpHljpyQXzaPhS5J4ssto8MNHRKU6n7j2oKW2op2rm2WQHg/s320/D8157EFC-F524-4EA2-99D6-1B02CA6BE059.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyg3LFlEyhA2DzoJhDMS4ZDaZsIQvshQCCwmRopPDAtf4iBZSe6GzWiOWCDLyWTBgERWn6ZdmDKbiser7CmIRklOX1JJp21xIaV71hAT9EmXf2wnVdluaiV4opD52fioXFgMaAhekNcUd5MPzoeVLW7HI6QhYeHSX5AJaK-OO9VNtes7RKgMiWGJ8Yeg/s2048/D892D9B9-0D41-4EF9-B5DA-4D727BE0F119.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyg3LFlEyhA2DzoJhDMS4ZDaZsIQvshQCCwmRopPDAtf4iBZSe6GzWiOWCDLyWTBgERWn6ZdmDKbiser7CmIRklOX1JJp21xIaV71hAT9EmXf2wnVdluaiV4opD52fioXFgMaAhekNcUd5MPzoeVLW7HI6QhYeHSX5AJaK-OO9VNtes7RKgMiWGJ8Yeg/s320/D892D9B9-0D41-4EF9-B5DA-4D727BE0F119.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The teenage students made this car! It is magnificent. A work of pure beauty. I am so thankful it is preserved in a museum, so everyone can enjoy/appreciate it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Hospital closed in 1997. Many of their items are not on exhibit, but in storage. Every item is being scanned and provided on their <a href="https://hub.catalogit.app/5441" target="_blank">website</a>. The process will take years, but what a generous gift to the world. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Glore is the largest psychiatric museum on earth. Yes, I would recommend you visit in person. I did not have nightmares. I was deeply impressed by the fortitude of the patients and the devoted compassion of the staff. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I leave with you one last picture I found on the museum's <a href="https://www.facebook.com/gloremuseum" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNl2YcBecpi_j4pOdc5O4n6Ryph34xfvDfvPixpnKBnGk4nInb_spCFLeT5HID7VgPNFs34BwBFlECdHOYeXlgoqlc1L_fsVIZSABzQ7JraOiMRu_6a_I-3yqOAWKz1Kv1TfJOKab3U9kH4dBGhAwV7kTvQC9EKQkmemsAdMvn5G_QPay9E17t4CbTzw/s1125/DEAFE328-9A9A-4349-8AB9-B162DBBDC1BE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="948" data-original-width="1125" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNl2YcBecpi_j4pOdc5O4n6Ryph34xfvDfvPixpnKBnGk4nInb_spCFLeT5HID7VgPNFs34BwBFlECdHOYeXlgoqlc1L_fsVIZSABzQ7JraOiMRu_6a_I-3yqOAWKz1Kv1TfJOKab3U9kH4dBGhAwV7kTvQC9EKQkmemsAdMvn5G_QPay9E17t4CbTzw/s320/DEAFE328-9A9A-4349-8AB9-B162DBBDC1BE.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I would have been placed in the Lunatic Asylum as I read novels. I am grateful that so much has been learned and has changed since then. Please visit the museum. It will have a great effect on you. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-38092166978361725002022-06-13T14:08:00.008-07:002022-06-14T07:26:28.624-07:00The TWA museum in Kansas City Missouri<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZHC9MBEPAiqhOsE7PdfRHcStDN0HTmTV6MEypCK7ngRaNXgLmknBbvP9cn5PWusWOvikdfAtliqd2XClizpjjT0hk7MpB4WaYkEKQT2tf73qKZl7IRJqy-DXoRYPhAN6PHeqMQnGRii7RXpzp7QCRQcYMYUktBPQIXLhvLD8SpyutfJBOUQfKivxvQ/s1896/B690A625-8655-46B5-ACB3-4475104D33E3.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1896" data-original-width="1658" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZHC9MBEPAiqhOsE7PdfRHcStDN0HTmTV6MEypCK7ngRaNXgLmknBbvP9cn5PWusWOvikdfAtliqd2XClizpjjT0hk7MpB4WaYkEKQT2tf73qKZl7IRJqy-DXoRYPhAN6PHeqMQnGRii7RXpzp7QCRQcYMYUktBPQIXLhvLD8SpyutfJBOUQfKivxvQ/s320/B690A625-8655-46B5-ACB3-4475104D33E3.jpeg" width="280" /></a></div><br /> I went to the <a href="http://www.twamuseum.com" target="_blank">TWA museum</a> because my mother was a "stewardess" for United Airlines. Her story intersects with TWA, which I will detail in a moment. And my story intersects with with her TWA story. But first let me set the stage: Mom was a stewardess in the day when the women had to be young, single and gorgeous. She flew for five years, before she met my Dad and fell thoroughly in love with him. When they married, she was automatically released from her job. Truly unbelievable today. But that was a different era. Mom and Dad had a fairy tale marriage, and after raising 5 children, they spent the rest of their lives traveling the world round many times over. So as I prepared for my visit to the TWA museum, I wore Mom's clipped wings badge (for alumni). I was looking forward to entering that world of the initial years of passenger flight. This museum did not disappoint. It is shockingly fascinating. It is remarkable that those planes, with such antiquated technology, flew people all over the country. I am not sure I would have been brave enough to try flight back then.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6VBPColOBysyu5AHAWT01JFInG0I5-1iHRbWIvXaXnwAGkKgbVZeE9Ggo36VWICAHOv7Q7SzziOjYzkzzp8NPIFxaN7Q-OK57Mcz4jlXW5hmZtJlPolesFJpPVm_6aNjsZbbfyxD-FV7bTIFV1phOzeplz_KHaYvJ3L92oAGODzmhb-hfG64ev-DYw/s2048/86A1E829-E9F1-44C5-8BD0-9A79F59AF9DD.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6VBPColOBysyu5AHAWT01JFInG0I5-1iHRbWIvXaXnwAGkKgbVZeE9Ggo36VWICAHOv7Q7SzziOjYzkzzp8NPIFxaN7Q-OK57Mcz4jlXW5hmZtJlPolesFJpPVm_6aNjsZbbfyxD-FV7bTIFV1phOzeplz_KHaYvJ3L92oAGODzmhb-hfG64ev-DYw/s320/86A1E829-E9F1-44C5-8BD0-9A79F59AF9DD.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>This is the oldest flying TWA aircraft (1940 - 1945). It is tiny on the interior. I was almost crawling through it. You have to double over, in half, in order to make your way through it. Just being inside of it gave me the willies. I can't even begin to imagine being up in the sky in this diminutive craft. Everything about it screams - "unsafe!" to me.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA--LJs_L6DN5zbaziFYdXzYxU43MJS6n-yIHlZWNRTj2sQi7aSixFhgguffCA8nuFe1fbMeLQrOCHoQZLnvRc7rEyAsEMfDhp_2-GdJDIr00eHT4adY3TfqQqWnwWIto7vmJl6cA6ByRutR6O8OpVn_Q_SDx5Dic8WdTdV_IqNt0lmzterAfTWZWJmg/s2048/1B0872EF-BB82-4DE0-A953-7A1E78E4BE86.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA--LJs_L6DN5zbaziFYdXzYxU43MJS6n-yIHlZWNRTj2sQi7aSixFhgguffCA8nuFe1fbMeLQrOCHoQZLnvRc7rEyAsEMfDhp_2-GdJDIr00eHT4adY3TfqQqWnwWIto7vmJl6cA6ByRutR6O8OpVn_Q_SDx5Dic8WdTdV_IqNt0lmzterAfTWZWJmg/s320/1B0872EF-BB82-4DE0-A953-7A1E78E4BE86.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Howard Hughes owned TWA. In the lounge, they have arranged his office furniture. If you get a chance, read a book about Howard Hughes. Very few people have such a scintillating life history. I got a kick out of sitting on his personal couch. I learned that both Charles Lindberg and Amelia Earhart worked for TWA as well. Now, that's impressive.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YEOOi2vDf-F0cKULutunfv0m7YKXEY1RuW4XSKWFC0halMdaI58JxwkurK-qy44xkzTqNlgVwIfCzE8jvW58PLMqX1j-m_rhxwUHpNEkpuyEGqdbGe7e7iNl_T8BALBFypOyY5VsdTEA4J-rvjOwoC7LEHnO8Sx1JSKdYJHLkKDWjGnj7NOcSavccg/s2048/707A9336-530A-4F7A-A45A-98175A3584A7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YEOOi2vDf-F0cKULutunfv0m7YKXEY1RuW4XSKWFC0halMdaI58JxwkurK-qy44xkzTqNlgVwIfCzE8jvW58PLMqX1j-m_rhxwUHpNEkpuyEGqdbGe7e7iNl_T8BALBFypOyY5VsdTEA4J-rvjOwoC7LEHnO8Sx1JSKdYJHLkKDWjGnj7NOcSavccg/s320/707A9336-530A-4F7A-A45A-98175A3584A7.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCI7rhz-X0xOE5flLfGxURD7C9IqiyLZ_B9IMcQLEBOR0moDeHw931QtsCmTZDZZ0POtNYfJVpURMudKevM3DPCTHzePK1ZMbiCUdlZ9rCgPaSWZOHFpSn-qFBKa5bvQj7nCwdPgrTvn7OAPLPkFrW_8JWTVJaHckfmpMQKqQyPQCFjaiYMX0fPTdtQ/s2048/980B9CA9-9092-41D9-8F82-7AC884129CD1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCI7rhz-X0xOE5flLfGxURD7C9IqiyLZ_B9IMcQLEBOR0moDeHw931QtsCmTZDZZ0POtNYfJVpURMudKevM3DPCTHzePK1ZMbiCUdlZ9rCgPaSWZOHFpSn-qFBKa5bvQj7nCwdPgrTvn7OAPLPkFrW_8JWTVJaHckfmpMQKqQyPQCFjaiYMX0fPTdtQ/s320/980B9CA9-9092-41D9-8F82-7AC884129CD1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>In the pilot training area, you can sit in the cockpits. I couldn't get over how many buttons and knobs there were. What if one of them got stuck??! I can't tell you how proud I was of my Mom for having the courage to fly in these old airplanes. They were taught how to evacuate 700 people in 90 seconds. That is utterly inconceivable, to me. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_GWWSbiLPNXDjYc7HgiMEYyVhu_XBu1uNnDjTLg3yUxb534z2LS6YeesT03EQFHmOssgxjMtX5zIsHfzInD5JVuTNvrm0SsDB1BMVFu7D6FBtoTzs_INvAtTha2hAWWktlLjDbqvSvSghB1vW3u5XLajnXbXCYMlDqdv4CUWq47g9g4yvciKzqQ5gw/s2048/B822C0CB-4215-44E6-8785-BA6E66FB9F69.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_GWWSbiLPNXDjYc7HgiMEYyVhu_XBu1uNnDjTLg3yUxb534z2LS6YeesT03EQFHmOssgxjMtX5zIsHfzInD5JVuTNvrm0SsDB1BMVFu7D6FBtoTzs_INvAtTha2hAWWktlLjDbqvSvSghB1vW3u5XLajnXbXCYMlDqdv4CUWq47g9g4yvciKzqQ5gw/s320/B822C0CB-4215-44E6-8785-BA6E66FB9F69.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>And now I arrive at the part of the museum where our stories intersected 66 years apart. I recently had an out-of-state client, Dr. Martin Harford. In our communication, he randomly mentioned that when he was a child, he was scheduled to be on the TWA flight that crashed into a United flight over the Grand Canyon in 1956; but at the last minute, his family's stand-by seats were given to someone else (his father worked for TWA). As I read his email, I sat back in astonished silence. I pulled out my Mom's memoirs, and she had journaled the crash. Mom was the stewardess supervisor on duty that day. When she received word of the crash, she went to the United terminal to help with the families who were arriving. The stunned grief of each person was cumulatively overwhelming and beyond horrific. I don't know how Mom held it together. Plus, she had to help identify the remains one of her stewardesses by the color of her nail polish, which she obtained from the woman's apartment. The loss of her two cherished friends gravely anguished Mom. I was overcome just standing beside this exhibit. Dr. Harford commissioned an exact replica of the plane to be built for the museum. It is shown with Mike Nelson's book about the crash - "We are Going In". I read it. It is rigorously researched for every possible detail. I was greatly impressed that both of these men have captured this history for us. I wonder if they realize how meaningful their efforts and effects are. I was profoundly moved by this singular exhibit.</div><div><br /></div><div>Please visit the museum. The volunteers give an outstanding tour, providing unendingly interesting information. There is an Archive department, but the employee records are scant. Even still, Joe Ballweg provided this good <a href="http://www.twamuseumarchives.org/resources.html" target="_blank">website</a>. The museum is at the original, old KC airport, which was built in 1926. TWA was sold in 2001 to American Airlines. So there is plenty of great history to experience here. You will appreciate the tremendous work they have done in crafting this museum.<br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-77424761342687245082022-05-16T10:19:00.009-07:002022-05-16T10:39:08.498-07:00Playing a profoundly meaningful real-life game<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPUfmvMenEkJsJzvOZPi5yZu-dzmKqZjv5LBxMnPtzgghIoYdWewFg8Ge9K78TJelADEYopUUAVTr881x97oG3_1BK_10ZajLvTgK9Sqai1SyQrorgUjE66P9afTE-_96YdXYdBlH0HDQzoExnetGB1CKwlBc7N9Z8I2_QBSPPGA2hj986k53qtx3pw/s4032/A4B5A297-5B53-44A1-B3BE-93570A667D7F.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPUfmvMenEkJsJzvOZPi5yZu-dzmKqZjv5LBxMnPtzgghIoYdWewFg8Ge9K78TJelADEYopUUAVTr881x97oG3_1BK_10ZajLvTgK9Sqai1SyQrorgUjE66P9afTE-_96YdXYdBlH0HDQzoExnetGB1CKwlBc7N9Z8I2_QBSPPGA2hj986k53qtx3pw/s320/A4B5A297-5B53-44A1-B3BE-93570A667D7F.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> On a random wall, in a large open room, this small sign hangs, easily unnoticed. And yet, one day, its picture exploded fireworks of inspiration in my mind. It depicts internet research as the tip of the iceberg, above water. Dropping deep below the surface, it shows where most of the antique records are stored -- in any kind of repository where good people decide to save and protect history for us.<p></p><div><br /></div><div>This story begins shortly after I moved to Kansas. I heard about the<a href="https://www.mymcpl.org/genealogy" target="_blank"> Midwest Genealogy Center</a> nearby, and decided to go research my ancestors on a lazy, unscheduled day. I drove up to a modernistic building. The irony was not lost on me: I smiled at the contemporary structure housing the past. It seemed allegorical to watching Millennials developing an enthusiasm for their own personal family chronicle. It is stirring to witness that which is new and young bridge to that of a bygone era.</div><div><br /></div><div>I began my research on one of their many computers that are loaded with websites that normally require a paid subscription. What a treat to get them all for free. Evenso, after a few hours the librarian noticed I was frowning, and came to my side...smiling. I looked up and she introduced herself as Twila. She asked me if I had stalled. I sure had. So, she said, "follow me". She led me to that one random wall in that enormous open room, where that tiny sign quietly hangs. As I stood reading it, rapid flashes of a disjointed vision began to formulate in my mind. I turned to Twila hoping she could clarify my thoughts for me. Her smile again. She explained that so far only a minimal percentage of all information has been scanned, digitized and provided on line. So everyone will always dead end when doing internet research. The rest of the documents are out there.... somewhere.... waiting to be found. The pieces of the vision instantly merged. I knew exactly what I wanted to do -- help people find their ancestors, after their trails ceased online. The physical hunt seemed more alluring to me than sitting behind a computer. It felt like a real-life game of an investigative mystery -- to find the genealogical puzzle pieces and link them together. The "win" is continuously discovering the people who make up you. Plus, there is no better way to experience history, than personally, through our ancestors.</div><div><br /></div><div>Twila knew I was itching to start right then and there, so she toured me around their repository. I felt like I was in a treasure chest or a vault of protected valuables. I was awestruck by the endless rows of cabinets holding thousands of index cards and microfiche/microfilm. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYDcBW2DJpiqVyJ7YOOmg8ON7no7mcak6WTh9TUbOl3Qi-8g22PnZyqN_xBgb9FSqLuByjOwkwUAvyikXJrdLZcyk2ABLiISm7P6dtdCZlLDxC6qPd5ZgMldhesLhZsn49a8E3dHj9yaxPkbiH4TuCYl5hvZpITTcfqF3ZQKNmJ31O7I-zxff9TCl2w/s2048/F247BFFF-F9A6-4311-869D-57CAF85EB860.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYDcBW2DJpiqVyJ7YOOmg8ON7no7mcak6WTh9TUbOl3Qi-8g22PnZyqN_xBgb9FSqLuByjOwkwUAvyikXJrdLZcyk2ABLiISm7P6dtdCZlLDxC6qPd5ZgMldhesLhZsn49a8E3dHj9yaxPkbiH4TuCYl5hvZpITTcfqF3ZQKNmJ31O7I-zxff9TCl2w/s320/F247BFFF-F9A6-4311-869D-57CAF85EB860.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsvfT0EHPbV4VJIX8MX4RF1dvaNSglXuymYahIX7AiPJK0CRCiaHHMPGTPeet_yL4Q2WC4J3B_NLXYJmbguphyi8SdGhtafZ3yVB7duVoWj8cgPGp7_UzWfv427i9-7w0bt8FXsdCBikwC7ze0i1AdswCFFXhY0h_kqRcxVnS3GCnP6gDq3ud4w6JYg/s2048/4C2D1A5D-0F97-4AFD-8E7C-85793C4C7178.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsvfT0EHPbV4VJIX8MX4RF1dvaNSglXuymYahIX7AiPJK0CRCiaHHMPGTPeet_yL4Q2WC4J3B_NLXYJmbguphyi8SdGhtafZ3yVB7duVoWj8cgPGp7_UzWfv427i9-7w0bt8FXsdCBikwC7ze0i1AdswCFFXhY0h_kqRcxVnS3GCnP6gDq3ud4w6JYg/s320/4C2D1A5D-0F97-4AFD-8E7C-85793C4C7178.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6w41NqEy-SvIi190BaBl8SgZqv3Err8yCEoMx-OHjhdxyrVC-b14Pi9Ww4Ba3IV2YW1gLzuynStVSYHHCyD9W_i6tIxUJMS5KF8QKhPA2pUnWtKaFEzRIrvkmAhMdaaolznxItgUF_aAx2aUtDGiGQKdcnp8S7KgY4PW9OvTZyXPaS7_kpXChT2RPg/s4032/1686E8E5-9F30-4A7A-B04D-16A91990141D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6w41NqEy-SvIi190BaBl8SgZqv3Err8yCEoMx-OHjhdxyrVC-b14Pi9Ww4Ba3IV2YW1gLzuynStVSYHHCyD9W_i6tIxUJMS5KF8QKhPA2pUnWtKaFEzRIrvkmAhMdaaolznxItgUF_aAx2aUtDGiGQKdcnp8S7KgY4PW9OvTZyXPaS7_kpXChT2RPg/s320/1686E8E5-9F30-4A7A-B04D-16A91990141D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Then came the rooms full of shelves lined with antiquated City Directories, long out-of-print books, donated family history journals, bound issues of newletters from genealogical societies around the country. There is even a special, locked room marked - Rare Book Collection!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZXcYSrZK9coHUbG8WFvA3OAqrejIKS2sYDgbQNxdN5MX4FPjzKjifAooCsWBseMLG9BNpgaf29KZu23I_uBFW9IeqxTRlGjIy08RSHQRw2yEzgsMwFOjCCgrhERKiO9JAolJYrjh9T6zlJUQQIv4orqMK4tky9ZWJX8Yj91x1d4b9sJgreIeTHIF0A/s2048/02DABDA5-0EB2-4108-8AD5-206BB0C40D1A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZXcYSrZK9coHUbG8WFvA3OAqrejIKS2sYDgbQNxdN5MX4FPjzKjifAooCsWBseMLG9BNpgaf29KZu23I_uBFW9IeqxTRlGjIy08RSHQRw2yEzgsMwFOjCCgrhERKiO9JAolJYrjh9T6zlJUQQIv4orqMK4tky9ZWJX8Yj91x1d4b9sJgreIeTHIF0A/s320/02DABDA5-0EB2-4108-8AD5-206BB0C40D1A.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXag2aAMlx2LP9pRrSwApXzFmxNhc3aADZYyCM1kio2MmEqMSas3DVvBFCsmATUnYcnYTk2WXngLKAHj4hYZklDbgKV3rMR8W54b2FJRSoVxQ6cEijiNU5nlM2yObecdCdajBGE9XCJTpixC-mQE80iLGjpwu1JXrhH1-5NuXXcdJ6bQIbQPqb-yGzw/s2048/61E1C263-723F-4634-AC8B-F497A96E2000.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXag2aAMlx2LP9pRrSwApXzFmxNhc3aADZYyCM1kio2MmEqMSas3DVvBFCsmATUnYcnYTk2WXngLKAHj4hYZklDbgKV3rMR8W54b2FJRSoVxQ6cEijiNU5nlM2yObecdCdajBGE9XCJTpixC-mQE80iLGjpwu1JXrhH1-5NuXXcdJ6bQIbQPqb-yGzw/s320/61E1C263-723F-4634-AC8B-F497A96E2000.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHmuj_YdVeBv0jyLnqhGbVQnlTJtqhQx46pVNWRoesaHp8gEjyOUVIEcusq47vKqT0jETYUKstb1KlVKLYtOIggDNYYvbEp1Jk6KxUuopRSYXaJod_qqiJIAMZGuYuiy91W4ZDXWozZg06ThPVrmZLXa5ZKTzw8nNC847yWrAAkqpEAhQumsE0TJEqdw/s2048/8E1320A4-5154-4519-BE20-38F827A77B19.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHmuj_YdVeBv0jyLnqhGbVQnlTJtqhQx46pVNWRoesaHp8gEjyOUVIEcusq47vKqT0jETYUKstb1KlVKLYtOIggDNYYvbEp1Jk6KxUuopRSYXaJod_qqiJIAMZGuYuiy91W4ZDXWozZg06ThPVrmZLXa5ZKTzw8nNC847yWrAAkqpEAhQumsE0TJEqdw/s320/8E1320A4-5154-4519-BE20-38F827A77B19.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>In this simple blog, I cannot even begin to tell you how much they have here. Come visit. Bring your lunch. Bring lots of paper and notebooks and a thumb drive. The Midwest Genealogy Center is the largest, freestanding, public genealogical repository in the country. You will push through your brick walls here. And my singular advice is - talk to all the staff. Yes, all of them. Each one has a specialty of knowledge. So keep asking your questions to each of them. They are super trained to help you and they love doing it. There is nothing Twila can't help you with. She is a genealogical genius. So is Kim, who is fun to work with because of her contagious passion. I am slowing getting to know the rest of the staff. They are all so good at what they do. They will astound and amaze you. And you will leave happy and well satisfied!</div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-29383009317663609992022-04-18T09:41:00.003-07:002022-04-19T07:19:21.956-07:00A boutique winery just outside of Kansas City -- Aubrey Vineyards<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwFYY9p5L817VjVU5wh3ddhv-sjirD6uCFhfojQTiq8pmzKB6D_ftr3NJB299k5A-Udsb5nOb9x5TlVYnG4--4PSWVFtYKabgMbfgEnoK7DYieEsD5PrY1fak3b3vnZCWnpYVks2osJhoEOPEC2DlcQrK0J3_d9BEatEBFf-QSU7CsGdEs4702t6GaA/s4032/13388F64-6551-4288-9D10-06D4DD4FB08F.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwFYY9p5L817VjVU5wh3ddhv-sjirD6uCFhfojQTiq8pmzKB6D_ftr3NJB299k5A-Udsb5nOb9x5TlVYnG4--4PSWVFtYKabgMbfgEnoK7DYieEsD5PrY1fak3b3vnZCWnpYVks2osJhoEOPEC2DlcQrK0J3_d9BEatEBFf-QSU7CsGdEs4702t6GaA/s320/13388F64-6551-4288-9D10-06D4DD4FB08F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div>As Winter begrudgingly gives way to Spring in the midwest, wintertide often speaks its final words with bluster. So, on this gusty, chilly evening I drove down to the Stilwell Kansas area to a winery I had recently discovered - <a href="https://www.aubreyvineyards.com" target="_blank">Audrey Vineyards</a>. As I drove through the tightly-packed residential neighborhoods, I suddenly emerged into the countryside, and I felt the instant release of city tension. I was soon pulling up the long lazy drive of the farm vineyard. I was already relaxing as I arrived.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLoonEnBi4Vcbq5xGynqw7wYF5XilxzI7niCv0NncjPUtLJkCXeKHaNEQYu_dr28hQAj4b3luNb6jiNgJOpGnwKk63LVDuhcZSxrxyFI7jdOY0dHjvR7XZK8x1HlpOhOdkgOf5m-17GDTtO8_pKz_JNRXcs9Ti1PwO2QtyrPfKw_wfISvR3JiMiBrtQ/s4032/85335C6F-6F20-4D3A-82B5-7DE87E9951EA.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLoonEnBi4Vcbq5xGynqw7wYF5XilxzI7niCv0NncjPUtLJkCXeKHaNEQYu_dr28hQAj4b3luNb6jiNgJOpGnwKk63LVDuhcZSxrxyFI7jdOY0dHjvR7XZK8x1HlpOhOdkgOf5m-17GDTtO8_pKz_JNRXcs9Ti1PwO2QtyrPfKw_wfISvR3JiMiBrtQ/s320/85335C6F-6F20-4D3A-82B5-7DE87E9951EA.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Inside the ambiance is warming and cozy. I ordered a light sweet wine and took a seat on their pillowed couch. I chatted with the staff, and as my conversations always turn toward history, I was intrigued to hear about the past of Aubry Township, for which the winery is named (with a slight spelling modification). Tiny Aubry was the first town across the state line when the war broke out. Missouri was pro-slavery and Kansas supported the freedom for slaves. Aubry bore the brunt of the back and forth battles.</div><div><br /></div><div>Qunatrill's confederate guerrillas raided Aubry repeatedly in the 1860's. As if eking out a life on the wild prairie wasn't bad enough for these sweet pioneer families, they then had to face Quantrill's random bloodthirsty attacks and pillaging. In 1863, one dear old soul, Mr. Treble, overheard the raiders assembled on the periphery of his Aubry farm. They were organizing to go on a charge. He quickly notified the authorities, but was ignored. Quantrill went on to Lawrence Kansas and grossly slaughtered over 200 people. When they heard about Mr. Treble trying to warn the officials, they returned to Aubry and murdered this brave 80-year old gentleman. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I sat sipping my wine, being grateful to Ben Luty for sharing such profound history with me, I began to hope that one day, the winery would name a bottle after the noble Mr. Treble. </div><div><br /></div><div>I sank deeper into the pillows and the live music easily moved me into reflecting on the long-ago pioneers who did the hard work to settle this land on which I was enjoying such a comfortable evening. I smiled with gratitude.</div><div><br /></div><div>The musician, <a href="http://isaackennethmusic.com" target="_blank">Isaac Kenneth</a>, was singing lulling tunes with his smooth voice. I looked around. Everyone looked happily content. He is now one of my new favorite musical artists in the region.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiov62H1RSnijvpEf8QmuIsh9uj9O6-nYGXG3cfn-zOr91FGUCqrSa6BfRUJygwXkLqgTbuxhS0FghJQYNdXyw4y2mn4ZwVMdZZYt5f1Lfh4QeJqE16emvBWCjk2C3VGHvD_Mc2Zyg9TFxpYxVgMrCPnV0EPb53y6KXRXj05S0MxsLBPbFuoEMjXMONog/s4032/A862751B-E8B7-4B69-B574-2A735D16DFAF.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiov62H1RSnijvpEf8QmuIsh9uj9O6-nYGXG3cfn-zOr91FGUCqrSa6BfRUJygwXkLqgTbuxhS0FghJQYNdXyw4y2mn4ZwVMdZZYt5f1Lfh4QeJqE16emvBWCjk2C3VGHvD_Mc2Zyg9TFxpYxVgMrCPnV0EPb53y6KXRXj05S0MxsLBPbFuoEMjXMONog/s320/A862751B-E8B7-4B69-B574-2A735D16DFAF.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>As the evening wound down, a staff member requested a song. Isaac didn't immediately recognize it, so he asked Drew Starlin to sing his request. Drew casually launched into a brief rendition. I saw every eye widen and jaws drop in awe. Isaac knew what was happening, and gently encouraged Drew to join him in a duet. The two voices blended in astonishing harmony that was thrilling to witness. It ended with enthusiastic applause.<div><br /></div><div>I so enjoyed this special evening at Aubrey Vineyard, and look forward to returning soon and often.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-91074176225325139432022-04-11T08:48:00.003-07:002022-04-13T16:03:47.821-07:00Historic winery in Olathe, Kansas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSmgPi7Mj6KHqcL81dpFwA_vyM8-eon0Kw6bQzwSpl1YWS9U8uGdF0O2Fctf5g71dwwEG8a-iOlbOJi3DO15IoocjJ93xZkjIXSKCeserh9By7PAqwvSuvzwywGYbldGV3GBBNYTAK6_cBt2p8Dh5upSzSNyf7dYBp89z3wPnvkBvPJzdSijgbPXoUg/s2048/F9EB9FDD-A91B-485B-89CC-01F9ACF50437.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSmgPi7Mj6KHqcL81dpFwA_vyM8-eon0Kw6bQzwSpl1YWS9U8uGdF0O2Fctf5g71dwwEG8a-iOlbOJi3DO15IoocjJ93xZkjIXSKCeserh9By7PAqwvSuvzwywGYbldGV3GBBNYTAK6_cBt2p8Dh5upSzSNyf7dYBp89z3wPnvkBvPJzdSijgbPXoUg/s320/F9EB9FDD-A91B-485B-89CC-01F9ACF50437.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> On a chilly Spring afternoon, I visited <a href="https://www.stonepillarvineyard.com" target="_blank">Stone Pillar </a>Winery to enjoy a warming fire pit, a sweet glass of wine, and the lulling vocals of musician <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AaronLuceroAcoustic" target="_blank">Aaron Lucero</a>. I was soon eased into a pleasantly relaxed state. I have been to this winery many times. It is expansive farm acreage, in the midst of residential neighborhoods. They have favored musical bands almost every weekend. Aaron Lucero is a regular, who knows exactly what type of music to play for each audience. He has a good sense of what will gladden his listeners.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>As I was being mesmerized by the flames inside the firepit, I began to overhear a nearby conversation. They were talking about the history of the land I was sitting on. My tranquility drained away and I was instantly being charged by the mention of my passion - history. Tactfully, I inserted myself in the discussion. I was thrilled to meet the proprietors of the winery, George and Brandi Hoff. George told me that it is the longest-held property by direct descendants in Olathe. Their ancestors, Frederick and Mary Hoff, purchased it in 1859. They started the original general store and were the first lager beer-makers in the region. My mind was now racing with hop-skipping questions. As Olathe is the largest city in Johnson County, there would be huge stores in the archives on one of the original families. The very next day, I was off to explore....</div><div><br /></div><div>I started at the <a href="https://olathe.org" target="_blank">Chamber of Commerce</a>. I met Allison Calvin, who gave me contact numbers and pointed me in the direction of where I should go. I was so grateful for her help, because every town houses their archives in different, random places.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went to the Old Town district. I was surprised to see it has been overlayed with impressively modern structures. There is a small zone of buildings remaining from the 1800's. As I walked through this area, I happened upon an attorney's office filled with antiques. I surmised he would have a keen sense and appreciation for the history of Olathe, so I entered and introduced myself. <a href="https://www.jamespconrad.com" target="_blank">James Conard</a> is an affable gentleman, who readily shared fascinating stories. He even, later, sent me copies of his family's memoirs. I so enjoyed reading them. And I hope everyone who has created these priceless written time capsules will donate a copy to the local and state repositories, so all future descendants can discover them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I phoned Bob Courtney, with the <a href="https://www.olathehistoricalsociety.org" target="_blank">Olathe Historical Society</a>. Their records are inaccessible to the public and mostly stored at Bob's house. Their society has produced films on the history of the area, which have received 13 Emmy awards! </div><div><br /></div><div>I contacted the Olathe library next. I was disheartened to learn their entire genealogical department is in storage and completely inaccessible until the new library is built in the next year or two.</div><div><br /></div><div>I jumped up to the County level and met with Tanner Rush at the the <a href="https://www.jocogov.org/department/financial-management-and-administration/archive-services" target="_blank">Johnson County Archives</a> (archives@jocogov.org). He had nothing on the Hoff family; nor did Anne Jones at the<a href="https://jcprd.com/330/Museum" target="_blank"> Johnson County Museum</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>I came up empty on the well-used <a href="http://JoCohistory.org" target="_blank">JoCohistory.org</a> website.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I was even shocked to find nothing on the history of Olathe on the massive <a href="https://www.proquest.com" target="_blank">ProQuest</a> site for student dissertations.</div><div><br /></div><div>The <a href="https://www.mahaffie.org" target="_blank">Mahaffie</a> museum has well-presented displays at their living historical farm. </div><div><br /></div><div>But overall, I found Olathe history to be elusive. For being the largest city in the county, it should have plenty of available information on their original families. That is a point of great pride for every town. I will continue my search. The documents are out there. They are just unavailable right now. But I know they will make themselves known eventually. They always do. They want to be found.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you do find records, documents or photographs, please post them on <a href="http://FamilySearch.org" target="_blank">FamilySearch.org</a> and/or <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a> as many descendants around the world are looking for them too! </div><div><br /></div><div>I retuned to Stone Pillar, and listened to George regale me with the family oral history of how Frederick was chased and shot in the back by Quantrill's raiders (!). There is HUGE history in Olathe. It makes my trips to the winery all that more satisfying to know I am sitting on such historically-privileged land.<br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-284459681430789122022-03-22T12:36:00.002-07:002022-03-22T12:38:25.808-07:00Concordia Kansas is a jewel in the middle of farm fields. <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXssFluQhkkJpesQAdNcEFpPsb-zOUQnsPXHidcR36LFgF6HrPbNmupfN4AAohHWq5Zy8kciqO1vbWJVkMYSp9j_USmeoKlBI_CNHvjsLyllR4fjZMDmsMpdh4xIan_E_ueE423hLRV8-twRZX9cETBpNUIRDQZA9X4uMxVxAp-sxGNM5wgv8gUsuGpw/s2048/C6903D92-48C9-4AB4-A6FD-0426E06DD803.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXssFluQhkkJpesQAdNcEFpPsb-zOUQnsPXHidcR36LFgF6HrPbNmupfN4AAohHWq5Zy8kciqO1vbWJVkMYSp9j_USmeoKlBI_CNHvjsLyllR4fjZMDmsMpdh4xIan_E_ueE423hLRV8-twRZX9cETBpNUIRDQZA9X4uMxVxAp-sxGNM5wgv8gUsuGpw/s320/C6903D92-48C9-4AB4-A6FD-0426E06DD803.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div>Do you know who this is? <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Corbett" target="_blank">Boston Corbett</a>. Do you recognize his perpetually famous name? I didn't. But I learned in Concordia Kansas that he is the soldier who shot and killed John Wilkes Booth (the assassin of President Abraham Lincoln). And Mr. Corbett lived in Concordia. There is far more to his life story that this one incident. And it is quite interesting. I heard the narrative from Florence, the curator of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Cloud-County-Museum-91870441331/" target="_blank">Cloud County Museum</a>. I received a personal tour which makes me extra happy, because I could ask my non-stop questions. If you visit at a time when a museum is not busy, the docents are usually glad to give you a private tour, and it is delightfully insightful. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZNMgE1U3aBSrFjUwLZQclhA-dDtaJC5ddER4-nF6XcOQ8AoUquxjht9abBs_XTnPNMZzCXBI9_H47f45FqvplS9PWhYpx7B6M-sucyGwnvrZVK1jfUwXKtW9lkFH3ouEWcLEC2UdYWi-y53ESyo-0FMh54Zn1PLumeICnYshgaSbGG3FyKJEMNdM8w/s2048/2D7E789A-E0BD-4CF7-903F-63A4BACB0293.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZNMgE1U3aBSrFjUwLZQclhA-dDtaJC5ddER4-nF6XcOQ8AoUquxjht9abBs_XTnPNMZzCXBI9_H47f45FqvplS9PWhYpx7B6M-sucyGwnvrZVK1jfUwXKtW9lkFH3ouEWcLEC2UdYWi-y53ESyo-0FMh54Zn1PLumeICnYshgaSbGG3FyKJEMNdM8w/s320/2D7E789A-E0BD-4CF7-903F-63A4BACB0293.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Cloud County Museum is enormous, and exhibits the region's history in great depth and detail. If your family was from this area, you will get a full sense of what their lives were like in each era. </div><div><br /></div><div>Florence introduced me to Vicki, the family genealogy researcher for the museum. Vicki showed me her treasure room. It is expansive. She will surely be able to find information on your ancestors.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0o7bWoxZjBXhG2KyxmUi8ZFNMM0QAFrkeoXC2a7nX37zAG2Z2rfijV7OGOBUcT7gLPZzppVJGiLpaY9jHxfVx5-N3xUu-D53Jng8PWGvkrd01Ruo2SHbK8WjrfkbvM8yzIa18BI28tWi04Wpmbz3O54rVxqdTSMLvNIAo6ddG4r-UCG1daSxXXZ4zw/s2048/1ED673BC-0E2A-4C4E-A193-B84D11C2465D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0o7bWoxZjBXhG2KyxmUi8ZFNMM0QAFrkeoXC2a7nX37zAG2Z2rfijV7OGOBUcT7gLPZzppVJGiLpaY9jHxfVx5-N3xUu-D53Jng8PWGvkrd01Ruo2SHbK8WjrfkbvM8yzIa18BI28tWi04Wpmbz3O54rVxqdTSMLvNIAo6ddG4r-UCG1daSxXXZ4zw/s320/1ED673BC-0E2A-4C4E-A193-B84D11C2465D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>These file drawers contain indexes for photographs from the 1940's to the 1990's. They were donated by a local photography studio. The museum is reconnecting them with family members. So, please check and see if your family has a picture for you to claim! How wonderful is that?!<div><br /></div><div>I never want to give away too much information on a museum, and deprive you of the discovery yourself. So I will stop here, even though I want to describe the displays of the one-time Maytag wash machine that was convertible into an ice cream/butter maker. I am not sure I would put cream into a basin that had just washed soiled clothing. You also need to hear the story about the Ma Barker gang robbing the town bank in 1932. Three women were taken hostage and went on a hair-raising ride. There was a POW camp in Concordia, which housed 4,000 soldiers captured in Africa (they were with Rommel's German army). I was surprised to discover this map in the museum, showing all the POW camps in the US. I had no idea.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnI6F-7hhiSOSEVw5eayUZLOm12BswcJNmO_oTmYMZVuTHjwzMsTP7K6Kvo_O7LJCaXxKAsm7yOPKsdc08fnFzaACEpF3dS_VpGDmswL0ELtGVGqyuBBdfydL5M82X8e_6JVnwP97nQQsAHug3Tm0Qx-kVGOHjzWhPvAxx75wF_XcAxs4fw9Sfw9eo1Q/s3956/5B4AB0F6-CDDB-41B4-B510-73B62E8A7FCA.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2591" data-original-width="3956" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnI6F-7hhiSOSEVw5eayUZLOm12BswcJNmO_oTmYMZVuTHjwzMsTP7K6Kvo_O7LJCaXxKAsm7yOPKsdc08fnFzaACEpF3dS_VpGDmswL0ELtGVGqyuBBdfydL5M82X8e_6JVnwP97nQQsAHug3Tm0Qx-kVGOHjzWhPvAxx75wF_XcAxs4fw9Sfw9eo1Q/s320/5B4AB0F6-CDDB-41B4-B510-73B62E8A7FCA.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>There is so very much more in this museum. If you can't visit it, please follow their Facebook page for all their fascinating tales of the region's past.</div><div><br /></div><div>Out on the main street area of town, I enjoyed browsing through the shops. They are in fabulous old buildings. I had all my meals at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JittersConcordia" target="_blank">Jitter's Coffee House</a> while I was in town.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBXhqvIaY-x6yVyawfQOLCwlGuT6DXnovUdjsKKmOimEqBci_lt8ABdSYT0p5PYLJibfUclfoI0cqUxAcpXuavDn0v-x4SziBBmAZjUmMlY-D66cmUTk1HwVxIHTDC3QB8FLGFfrniWXrJxT7Vep_GcTSYN0QvDBsyYei3Te3YWQGbkJ8gntjSQU9lBQ/s2048/3413BEE5-3A21-4522-A575-4280A6FBE8B2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBXhqvIaY-x6yVyawfQOLCwlGuT6DXnovUdjsKKmOimEqBci_lt8ABdSYT0p5PYLJibfUclfoI0cqUxAcpXuavDn0v-x4SziBBmAZjUmMlY-D66cmUTk1HwVxIHTDC3QB8FLGFfrniWXrJxT7Vep_GcTSYN0QvDBsyYei3Te3YWQGbkJ8gntjSQU9lBQ/s320/3413BEE5-3A21-4522-A575-4280A6FBE8B2.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>It is a healthful menu with good, clean, well-crafted dishes. So it was a treat for me to dine there, as well as enjoy their unique offerings of teas. I tried a different tea every time, and savored the flavor of each one. That is significant, because I am enthusiast of tea. It heightens the pleasure of the meal. Down the road I noticed an inviting restaurant. Next time, I will give <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ElPuerto2003/" target="_blank">El Puerto Mexican Restaurant</a> a try. It sure looks appealing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXaw3CJ-FhewsZHaFayTwZDKBwLSlSy6MiFDNKyQm-RBgKPueodBgO_lzzdgYvF851tvn4gwTnVmxOV7MJo7HySUy74OhQzL-DnfP2mJWiCVIPHkqPtg9DyA3lF8xp1g8Qy0rtiMgtMuN0oqaZbMd_LCXnWZWINJ9r-jeYrxOOoeCk80Bu8Da-NvlyA/s2048/5C72648F-62D2-4E43-9A30-88A252CA12E9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXaw3CJ-FhewsZHaFayTwZDKBwLSlSy6MiFDNKyQm-RBgKPueodBgO_lzzdgYvF851tvn4gwTnVmxOV7MJo7HySUy74OhQzL-DnfP2mJWiCVIPHkqPtg9DyA3lF8xp1g8Qy0rtiMgtMuN0oqaZbMd_LCXnWZWINJ9r-jeYrxOOoeCk80Bu8Da-NvlyA/s320/5C72648F-62D2-4E43-9A30-88A252CA12E9.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I stepped inside the <a href="https://www.thecnb.bank" target="_blank">Citizen's National Bank</a>, and asked about the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ma_Barker" target="_blank">Ma Barker gang</a> that robbed it 90 years ago. I was thrilled when a banker let me see the original vault! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhJEGXcqzJS1-dWX8evxYFadGKssLc5m9Mw7iVRCpDn4PZjTLZwzRzprIR7YcibwwuqqTJ24VV_ed1lgL8P5nQ-UdpsZ_IqGc887PYpQQzEqE1l9wj5XslaJHkcY3d_4Ngcfg0SCDLiRUkVKbtEJMw930VMo_K-mUjLRGyyUDhGLTTJGp3h87vXsO4A/s2048/3F27594A-0592-45DB-AC2F-7E21DE81706D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhJEGXcqzJS1-dWX8evxYFadGKssLc5m9Mw7iVRCpDn4PZjTLZwzRzprIR7YcibwwuqqTJ24VV_ed1lgL8P5nQ-UdpsZ_IqGc887PYpQQzEqE1l9wj5XslaJHkcY3d_4Ngcfg0SCDLiRUkVKbtEJMw930VMo_K-mUjLRGyyUDhGLTTJGp3h87vXsO4A/s320/3F27594A-0592-45DB-AC2F-7E21DE81706D.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I always stop at the <a href="https://www.concordiakansaschamber.com" target="_blank">Chamber of Commerce</a> to see what is happening in a town. I had a fun, robust conversation with Annie Bergman, the executive director. She is perfect for her job. I felt like a friend when I left her office. </div><div><br /></div><div>The main reason I went to Concordia was because of the <a href="https://camimayer.blogspot.com/2022/03/the-national-orphan-train-museum.html" target="_blank">National Orphan Train</a> museum. I wrote about the poignant visit I experienced. It is truly the highlight of the town.</div><div><br /></div><div>I finished my trip at the town <a href="https://fcarlsonlib.org" target="_blank">library</a>, where the librarian, Alice, helped me do some searches in their genealogical holdings. Never assume that all archives are only in one repository in a town. Here, both the library and the museum keep genealogical records. I often wonder if the townspeople explore their own families in these facilities. I bet they would be amazed at what they find!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-81975741784982703982022-03-21T09:15:00.004-07:002022-03-21T17:42:40.102-07:00the National Orphan Train museum <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div> <p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjh2P5vGKa4_gIPZTG__whavOEypWi_zuUZaUrwU1IjBsttThB2xWnKvPcADAHzNDleMpv8ms_r8Pg9JNZ5vp00_5EIG7B-_xHC5fyTsUy5C2bZWC7Pk9eLOsw5PDoLIRYuiajpd1xNas72quH0JwHoSpJgKRFdlz-xFjojfFDqQ30CWApQOmCduXqYAw=s4029" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4029" data-original-width="2731" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjh2P5vGKa4_gIPZTG__whavOEypWi_zuUZaUrwU1IjBsttThB2xWnKvPcADAHzNDleMpv8ms_r8Pg9JNZ5vp00_5EIG7B-_xHC5fyTsUy5C2bZWC7Pk9eLOsw5PDoLIRYuiajpd1xNas72quH0JwHoSpJgKRFdlz-xFjojfFDqQ30CWApQOmCduXqYAw=s320" width="217" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I sat on the ground in front of this sweet boy, in Concordia Kansas. His tiny soul touched my heart. There are sculptured images of the children who rode the orphan train all over town. As I encountered each one, I paused to see them. To really see them. And then I wanted to hear them. I knew where to go. The <a href="https://orphantraindepot.org" target="_blank">National Orphan Train</a> museum brings their personal experiences to life for us. That is what historians do. They provide us entrance into the past.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjm_BGWnwlx-LJkpjGHgscqHaCpEuAikXSXpdZS6FTfJQeaI9T0Rb1NiAhtCWosDqIkd2W_rFDAxPQEu8mAHkjJfOXw8JD9SZCm-RqX5EIvD6JN65mErfcQUc2nWWVbkXCHDFw3BV9njCe6_gC4-tPnwf1pnnoNKa3UthheTqbrJeSPh62rtbbn4vnY4A=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjm_BGWnwlx-LJkpjGHgscqHaCpEuAikXSXpdZS6FTfJQeaI9T0Rb1NiAhtCWosDqIkd2W_rFDAxPQEu8mAHkjJfOXw8JD9SZCm-RqX5EIvD6JN65mErfcQUc2nWWVbkXCHDFw3BV9njCe6_gC4-tPnwf1pnnoNKa3UthheTqbrJeSPh62rtbbn4vnY4A=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Do you know anything about the orphan train? I knew almost nothing. But the title alone elicited a mild alarm in my senses. Who were these children and what became of them?? As I entered, I met Sue, one of the founders. She is compassionately-natured and strong to accomplish a monumentous undertaking. One day, she read about the orphan train and determined to build a museum for it. I was mightily impressed. I hope you get to meet her and hear the story first-hand. It is robust with astonishing details. </div><div><br /></div><div>The orphan train functioned from 1854 - 1929: an astounding 75 years. It began in New York City, when many children were left orphaned and homeless, caused by sweeps of fatal diseases, as well as unavailable healthcare. These children then took to the street and gutters, surviving alongside the rats by stealing food, merging into gangs, and taking barbaric jobs for children in factories. Finally, a decision was made to remove the youths from the overflowing orphanages and place them onto trains to the midwest and other parts of the country. The hope was to unite them with caring families in the healthy farmlands. So, the two major orphanages began the enormous process. The Children's Aid Society was a public facility. And the New York Foundling Home was with Catholic Charities. The reasoning for sending out the orphans was multi-dimensional, as the United States was attempting to populate the west, and many farmers needed extra hands to work the fields. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8LR3QQ8G98wGrapvA6Mj-HwWSZ_pu6Qm8jrQfTgmiVUwoXWa3dkmtAil5CEkUFBso0QHA3QhAgDnwpbAqtTNHrOODOGN6b-UYzY2FovMTSEYLeVMRBbkoTKm8UZKPacSOEByxZqNR_JQFWeyBzAsHYo2GPGMKnA-xWABKjfU2q9LDU3-cA63yyGKiFQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8LR3QQ8G98wGrapvA6Mj-HwWSZ_pu6Qm8jrQfTgmiVUwoXWa3dkmtAil5CEkUFBso0QHA3QhAgDnwpbAqtTNHrOODOGN6b-UYzY2FovMTSEYLeVMRBbkoTKm8UZKPacSOEByxZqNR_JQFWeyBzAsHYo2GPGMKnA-xWABKjfU2q9LDU3-cA63yyGKiFQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>During its run, the train transported 250,000 orphans. A quarter of a million children. The process included agents riding with the orphans, and seeing them placed in homes. Careful notes were taken and the agents returned often to check on the welfare of the children. I was enormously relieved to hear that. Even so, numerous children were gravely mistreated, and suffered. Additionally, the youths were leaving all that was familiar to them, while grieving the loss of both parents (!), and being sent to strange lands and foreign people. The enormity of their adjustment is unfathomable. Yet the process was created to be as flawless as possible. Flyers and newspapers advertised the trains well in advance, and the agencies worked with local communities to scrutinize adopting families.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I walked through the museum, I was deeply, deeply moved in multiple ways. I was profoundly inspired by the fortitude of the orphans and the tenaciousness of the agents to safeguard the children. I was also pained by the anguish the orphans endured. As I turned a corner, I came upon this photo of depicted sorrow in this precious girl's expression.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4wzcK5VYVnryu4jbRT5gkKG8EuJ1meDOyZ7JOt3jNYjsDd57guAnnQO2mY6hQs1kJZUOmUYuLeohBeEH8ETo9JD5D03dOjVOHwB18P7l9uscJYCtUDFsra6i5liSM8Oj3h6QeH469EXJ0V070ykhWbG96UYPwEVk6ISpIjsgYQKq-2_xY0aU3DtmEHg=s4029" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4029" data-original-width="2761" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4wzcK5VYVnryu4jbRT5gkKG8EuJ1meDOyZ7JOt3jNYjsDd57guAnnQO2mY6hQs1kJZUOmUYuLeohBeEH8ETo9JD5D03dOjVOHwB18P7l9uscJYCtUDFsra6i5liSM8Oj3h6QeH469EXJ0V070ykhWbG96UYPwEVk6ISpIjsgYQKq-2_xY0aU3DtmEHg=s320" width="219" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I felt a sudden rush of tears. I knew I was hearing the orphans, and I was seeing them. Only the greatest of museums accomplishes that. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I returned to the office where I was grateful to discover books in the gift shop. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPwHBnlSKCAQLF-lfu9pHxNgZen9Lkc8PdZ0TqAmRwyanjuUhzUBNusI0e1zpKM6QdwTU_C5mZAioOUfPIlzRyQyxCro_b0kAL0DukrPydcVpRnmzeJD6d-eh_NSUlaViN9wAR5m8WpyznqQ3_iFQFrU_eCKzGiIsLHS6U-vG2BZlgPX_Z2ThiKSTIuQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPwHBnlSKCAQLF-lfu9pHxNgZen9Lkc8PdZ0TqAmRwyanjuUhzUBNusI0e1zpKM6QdwTU_C5mZAioOUfPIlzRyQyxCro_b0kAL0DukrPydcVpRnmzeJD6d-eh_NSUlaViN9wAR5m8WpyznqQ3_iFQFrU_eCKzGiIsLHS6U-vG2BZlgPX_Z2ThiKSTIuQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I also met the Archivist. She is a brilliant historian who is organizing and indexing their massive holdings. They have 7,000 files on the riders, as well as boxes of photos!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5TLMjxy0wdmkH3fQhKmOvMH7r15OhSGGfnRD8YZU-sAon7zoZtfWYIn_NMWWSH7fsreamR9A7JgMtWbhTKdPt13rk97EzOShVzdCgzbVLT4fzuwOFD26usM5kPU6ipaEq7hqeSnxXiIR1XJSQ9fHQYvCgHO4DBkurDev1zaceFrZTmDRff8nORcRToQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5TLMjxy0wdmkH3fQhKmOvMH7r15OhSGGfnRD8YZU-sAon7zoZtfWYIn_NMWWSH7fsreamR9A7JgMtWbhTKdPt13rk97EzOShVzdCgzbVLT4fzuwOFD26usM5kPU6ipaEq7hqeSnxXiIR1XJSQ9fHQYvCgHO4DBkurDev1zaceFrZTmDRff8nORcRToQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Please contact the museum if your ancestor was one of the orphans. They will help you find their story. Or if you are a student, a filmmaker, an author, or anyone who appreciates the past, please visit this museum. The work is all done for you, thanks to these impassioned people who have so attentively preserved the life stories of these meaningful souls from a distant era.<br /><div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-63871405356250726072022-03-09T13:08:00.006-08:002022-03-10T06:07:05.514-08:00Medicine's Hall of Fame & Museum <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQpcEtFPneoFvwIincWxH4LDoF7_RAwThmzSD1R80eLBqRcesj-vZHkJANe3tJcRAKWuqjoNPvsQvqbFVuuiiG7R8VenOhFx6sjClSwkIyEeqks3gPJ7XsQQdz4hpUEF3uC1OV8wZqgP8tZo4SsiolX0FdzG-WIyYsY6aUMTVoSl1bppFANPFjDVetMA=s3257" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2988" data-original-width="3257" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQpcEtFPneoFvwIincWxH4LDoF7_RAwThmzSD1R80eLBqRcesj-vZHkJANe3tJcRAKWuqjoNPvsQvqbFVuuiiG7R8VenOhFx6sjClSwkIyEeqks3gPJ7XsQQdz4hpUEF3uC1OV8wZqgP8tZo4SsiolX0FdzG-WIyYsY6aUMTVoSl1bppFANPFjDVetMA=s320" width="320" /></a></div>This is a painting of a medicine rattle. I didn't expect this in a Medicine Museum. But it made sense, as Medicine Men of Indigenous tribes were considered healers. It also represents the insightful diversity of this particular museum. <div><br /></div><div> It is located in Shawnee Kansas in an historic building. The museum was created by Dr. Bruce Hodges, a working physician who is nearly 90. He has been a life-long collector of artifacts from various regions of the earth. As the quantity of relics increased, he secured them in multiple storage units. Thankfully for us, he decided one day to exhibit them in a museum. So, he bought this building and crafted displays with his son, Robin.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKxSxo6UJ6TnlIKfIy2cU29AlVKYyba17JxBqQSwaJ748zyXxbUcqgXEMH-IWhQALa3WyXLZq6uXOao4QsTNYI712VKumvE4oyaEn1fzM7-FSyAeMq4lSFPvOGoDXkeO8CWGxHHoyEZ-dE72JL60R4dU4YMJ5X-aMJoyrKKskUGIyXrfV3SolH2_dH8w=s3766" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3022" data-original-width="3766" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKxSxo6UJ6TnlIKfIy2cU29AlVKYyba17JxBqQSwaJ748zyXxbUcqgXEMH-IWhQALa3WyXLZq6uXOao4QsTNYI712VKumvE4oyaEn1fzM7-FSyAeMq4lSFPvOGoDXkeO8CWGxHHoyEZ-dE72JL60R4dU4YMJ5X-aMJoyrKKskUGIyXrfV3SolH2_dH8w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>When I first moved to Kansas, I discovered the Arabia Steamboat Museum. It immediately became my favorite, because it was created by laypeople. Two families, enjoying a visit together, began chatting about the many boats that had sunk in the Missouri River during the 1800's. They dreamed about locating and unearthing one. Then they determined to give it a try. And sure enough they did it! The process is detailed in the museum. Be prepared to be stunned. I take all my visiting guests there. I have been so many times, that I have gotten to know the original steamboat treasure hunter, David Hawley. Moreover, these two families built every display by themselves. The result is truly one of the best museums I have ever seen. The Smithsonian even wanted their find. Who does this??? I have a theory that there are superhumans living amongst us. They have the magic. And it is thrilling to see what they do.<div><br /></div><div>So, I knew I had happened upon another astoundingly-created museum, when I entered the Medicine's Hall of Fame. It is a place of admirable beauty and fascination. Dr. Hodges collection includes the history of medicine, and a variety of world cultural items. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEig20zYDL89D-T9UZwd_0FL81RpyHPfQ7BFzfcriI-rDdPzDSdwjJYrCt7SufrpTtns478E2u-B5mb_rm8-e-5EjZIKAfsOqdGSf8tbksyxaIeLx1LkDFk4amlLilN98zwy91S_S8hG4PoJhLzXPTCWViB8IDHw-FGiGvrU9Zxa1c1gIDKg25l0_FQgRA=s3799" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2655" data-original-width="3799" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEig20zYDL89D-T9UZwd_0FL81RpyHPfQ7BFzfcriI-rDdPzDSdwjJYrCt7SufrpTtns478E2u-B5mb_rm8-e-5EjZIKAfsOqdGSf8tbksyxaIeLx1LkDFk4amlLilN98zwy91S_S8hG4PoJhLzXPTCWViB8IDHw-FGiGvrU9Zxa1c1gIDKg25l0_FQgRA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I cringe every time I see an iron lung. It seems like a torture device. I can't imagine living in it for years. I know it saved many lives, but the emotional toll of the patient must have been enormous. Do you see the picture, on the wall, of the clinic full of iron lungs? It was a common form of treatment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWkUNpF0S34Orf3Q3c6EJ4baBO07Wzfsb_nBPHFDUV8jm5nOaEXn65azXIRO9_Gj3VuBKpKAvvhzqmQ1dqzYDG5dYfps26FSnXp0_RhgYjIGuzmankOmD9Jc15kIMuEK4-ZYthTs_9DmLP8wxy7DbwKFjdf0tppMVOIpTysxJKQw8684gbwdM3n6TPKA=s4030" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2779" data-original-width="4030" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWkUNpF0S34Orf3Q3c6EJ4baBO07Wzfsb_nBPHFDUV8jm5nOaEXn65azXIRO9_Gj3VuBKpKAvvhzqmQ1dqzYDG5dYfps26FSnXp0_RhgYjIGuzmankOmD9Jc15kIMuEK4-ZYthTs_9DmLP8wxy7DbwKFjdf0tppMVOIpTysxJKQw8684gbwdM3n6TPKA=s320" width="320" /></a></div>The pharmacy room displays filled vials of 100-year old medicines. The apothecary counter is original. I hope medical and nursing students come here. What a significant place for learning about the progression of therapeutic methods.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD4jm_oeXObAsLIwUpWRqoX6OyUn0jM4Sf0f9vQbUpbvbQdZELW9N8TWT7IArPvu9IX4fE-9N43a_WVSxJVkm8tltTgBVzhXyPtS4Y34Gy9BH9gJsfIRJoVshks8h9DANK_UaK12soi2QxqkbzVooN6yc9Fvh22mMAP9F8QXn34gTcstDC1_kOE5y5rQ=s3698" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2091" data-original-width="3698" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD4jm_oeXObAsLIwUpWRqoX6OyUn0jM4Sf0f9vQbUpbvbQdZELW9N8TWT7IArPvu9IX4fE-9N43a_WVSxJVkm8tltTgBVzhXyPtS4Y34Gy9BH9gJsfIRJoVshks8h9DANK_UaK12soi2QxqkbzVooN6yc9Fvh22mMAP9F8QXn34gTcstDC1_kOE5y5rQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>There are different continental rooms, with antiquities from their respective countries, including a shrunken head.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifS3mpQYNkYHDuRTcpTcyb-rrH7Kkw_KgupR3nDqiVJZzKRnob_yPzhY1WT2P_oC-auYVLGdadoe3r9BPDCh_nWORcqJSDjUcZjcCpXg7I-pYinUD67EiWxCNYTq7ZbD4ZuFbn6w4EN6iaNowNGSI3T2LZYRHpOAa6LiHGlRSLbNyT53BZzJFt3fijTA=s2728" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2634" data-original-width="2728" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifS3mpQYNkYHDuRTcpTcyb-rrH7Kkw_KgupR3nDqiVJZzKRnob_yPzhY1WT2P_oC-auYVLGdadoe3r9BPDCh_nWORcqJSDjUcZjcCpXg7I-pYinUD67EiWxCNYTq7ZbD4ZuFbn6w4EN6iaNowNGSI3T2LZYRHpOAa6LiHGlRSLbNyT53BZzJFt3fijTA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The acceptable development of this tradition is beyond comprehension. How was the idea not rejected at some point in the process of conceptualizing it??<br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The last room I visited demonstrates the miracles of Jesus. Dr. Hodges took his sketches to the Akamba Tribe in Kenya, East Africa. He hired 22 carvers to fashion 652 pieces. They had never carved people before. But as true artisans, they completed the task with proficiency.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPn5tm5sJT7CXlunxvGBxxlIj9M1GbtWC6IAKhUB1XQkY8jGL27bI2e51BGSmSVUcTBAqXnAQQ4EKhSLrIJ2Hz4ZGNWgA3ImJopT_prQw8TVLVwnq0PkdlLGrAQORD-n6POCxgGzyhytXUsOBFQrtHy3kXaxlL1VWdxi4K7IHQ7a8Q1_iJJMgp2C89Hw=s3428" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3428" data-original-width="3023" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPn5tm5sJT7CXlunxvGBxxlIj9M1GbtWC6IAKhUB1XQkY8jGL27bI2e51BGSmSVUcTBAqXnAQQ4EKhSLrIJ2Hz4ZGNWgA3ImJopT_prQw8TVLVwnq0PkdlLGrAQORD-n6POCxgGzyhytXUsOBFQrtHy3kXaxlL1VWdxi4K7IHQ7a8Q1_iJJMgp2C89Hw=s320" width="282" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They used the wood of the Jacaranda tree.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_oqyxtzzwepBTRbi1tlNOu6G--Z2AWd5Fkj0AwIDmRcIhKiKicUXUtFaoXZQmzX9GluK_iRXAt4gsRNMK7JJE8eDUD1HDwqtt3q6Ku4Fj7OWE902HX1f1yBnpKLi1fM6gn9zzG2mIqLJGWtHKZhF0Sw4WbxeqcZ8LN_yN-cvxHPiiA_ooUt7bvqOQsw=s2993" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2993" data-original-width="2570" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_oqyxtzzwepBTRbi1tlNOu6G--Z2AWd5Fkj0AwIDmRcIhKiKicUXUtFaoXZQmzX9GluK_iRXAt4gsRNMK7JJE8eDUD1HDwqtt3q6Ku4Fj7OWE902HX1f1yBnpKLi1fM6gn9zzG2mIqLJGWtHKZhF0Sw4WbxeqcZ8LN_yN-cvxHPiiA_ooUt7bvqOQsw=s320" width="275" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And their craftsmanship is available for us to admire.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdtbXNVbcxIsfd1-U3qlIyVWRYdNhvUMVWH7UlpRsOU-DuPJt0LJS9A3OJGmCOLNLOWuXgCQFLWkI1ij4x2zogIPop2sfDcN9exenWuY8qjuYuosUiARPC2IYKxHo4oqCZuxZ5Tf9liDNXsjQfJ5ea9lJnWwWrbZSnnap4jUsGK-rGa2c6KY8r5OIJWg=s3902" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2691" data-original-width="3902" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdtbXNVbcxIsfd1-U3qlIyVWRYdNhvUMVWH7UlpRsOU-DuPJt0LJS9A3OJGmCOLNLOWuXgCQFLWkI1ij4x2zogIPop2sfDcN9exenWuY8qjuYuosUiARPC2IYKxHo4oqCZuxZ5Tf9liDNXsjQfJ5ea9lJnWwWrbZSnnap4jUsGK-rGa2c6KY8r5OIJWg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I only did a minor overview of the museum, as I did not want to diminish your discovery process. There is so much more to experience. Be sure to call in advance to confirm the museum hours. I hope you can time your visit to coincide with Dr. Hodges' presence at the museum. He is fascinating to chat with, as he knows every artifact well since they are all from his personal collection. I will bring my friends and visiting guests here, so I can gladly introduce them to our Kansas City superhumans!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div></div></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-62194018682134927692022-03-07T14:00:00.006-08:002022-03-07T14:36:05.956-08:00A small township museum holds huge historical stories.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2RPghDrqAg9thnlNAm6JLrMrQsxcc7htPtlsBxd9W4MV-1b5dNaul_zef124HMUhI3Qj3PqYy5-_xBQFcmc6MbJGPSC4duKgdJ3FM0tG6Xeld0RHR_Wp5gWNBBqiNlOvVPSV-2W9UoSUsMt8iQMGjzplrMPE_AGpr_CjuhuCIjf-3FMbN8qadtqvcng=s4027" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2776" data-original-width="4027" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2RPghDrqAg9thnlNAm6JLrMrQsxcc7htPtlsBxd9W4MV-1b5dNaul_zef124HMUhI3Qj3PqYy5-_xBQFcmc6MbJGPSC4duKgdJ3FM0tG6Xeld0RHR_Wp5gWNBBqiNlOvVPSV-2W9UoSUsMt8iQMGjzplrMPE_AGpr_CjuhuCIjf-3FMbN8qadtqvcng=s320" width="320" /></a></div>This is a painting of Monticello Township, in 1857. Do you see how few buildings there are? And can you spot the circled wagon train, as well as the schooners, heading out of town? This was a tiny hamlet west of Kansas City. It was the first day's ride out of the city, and the stopping point for the night. You should see it now. It is where I live. Today, there is a freeway (K-7), and an unbroken line of buildings and houses. I got curious about who lived on this spot of the earth before me, so I went to the <a href="https://monticelloks.org" target="_blank">Monticello Community Historical Society.</a> I have driven by it many, many times in the past six years since I moved here, and never really noticed it. I soon learned what a humble treasury of significant history it is. Terry Love greeted me. He is the President of the Board of Directors. He introduced me to Sharron Uhler, a career archivist. We immediately launched into an exhilarating conversation. Few things charge me more than history and genealogy. I could tell that was true about these two people as well. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Terry-Love/e/B001H6OEL2%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share" target="_blank">Terry</a> is a copious author of history. And Sharron is a former curator at the Hallmark archives, among other notable repositories. As every staff member is a volunteer, I realized this museum is truly privileged. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxsNqqV0ME8hz02yBWS8m4GmBnfNB5aC8GgOsHhdYyExs07SzThzEzniOoLS5DkmnTlxgnZEtr60CwfvJnly-29FAoa-oKucGZNqWFue0K8tJmShVYxXyE3rBP3cCp-eKPH_C7_oZUmRtVeAH2Oxot_U2w69vRQSVJzV2tlN0RjvjbowJ1AIvnZx14Bg=s3617" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3617" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxsNqqV0ME8hz02yBWS8m4GmBnfNB5aC8GgOsHhdYyExs07SzThzEzniOoLS5DkmnTlxgnZEtr60CwfvJnly-29FAoa-oKucGZNqWFue0K8tJmShVYxXyE3rBP3cCp-eKPH_C7_oZUmRtVeAH2Oxot_U2w69vRQSVJzV2tlN0RjvjbowJ1AIvnZx14Bg=s320" width="268" /></a></div>They had unending stories that kept me enthralled the entire time I was there. Who would have suspected that a regional map from 1905 would hold a novel's worth of tales?!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhb9p6P0mDPWJHcDWnmmU2udJraVoMw0hVf-QWO5tq-S1tOSyRDiu7pJWaziDMHhHBjTs-iM1YJahpGEhz6Zj5xK8R9x73ZOVtoJ4xURJGGfB3YcWqb4gwFFPM-OhuZcK07uNCBbKUvG00NyANCeh8Xu4Jb9hLLgiuwkzcu2OBMAobZDjNEkFji1ogNCg=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhb9p6P0mDPWJHcDWnmmU2udJraVoMw0hVf-QWO5tq-S1tOSyRDiu7pJWaziDMHhHBjTs-iM1YJahpGEhz6Zj5xK8R9x73ZOVtoJ4xURJGGfB3YcWqb4gwFFPM-OhuZcK07uNCBbKUvG00NyANCeh8Xu4Jb9hLLgiuwkzcu2OBMAobZDjNEkFji1ogNCg=s320" width="240" /></a></div>The names of the landowners are diagramed into the map. And Terry can tell you stories about many of them.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgD3M-rC62wJuLR1zWk3Gc0K4walwA55xBsBBzMUcshP6X0TxaeZhrPL_M6zwTzunNkkWYFp_FvjbQWzNdP1zDV6Jw2jScyxKUyStuNyqHN2UBgNb7c6pzqASWgHqFnrfZBrxCu_BMHhvAdlZxd2qRU2CVKsvEg_-ys8LGuyyq3aK3iF0BDIYMkCMZSkA=s3215" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3022" data-original-width="3215" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgD3M-rC62wJuLR1zWk3Gc0K4walwA55xBsBBzMUcshP6X0TxaeZhrPL_M6zwTzunNkkWYFp_FvjbQWzNdP1zDV6Jw2jScyxKUyStuNyqHN2UBgNb7c6pzqASWgHqFnrfZBrxCu_BMHhvAdlZxd2qRU2CVKsvEg_-ys8LGuyyq3aK3iF0BDIYMkCMZSkA=s320" width="320" /></a></div>The exhibits include a prairie schooner. Terry told me only pregnant women and little children rode inside. Everyone else walked across the country. I can't even begin to imagine that. If you have experienced a midwest summer, you know the heaviness of its steamy humidity. I cringe thinking of the women pushing through it wearing long, thick, hot dresses. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaFPigQ7vbAR5sclUIRq04ANHaPyX62pLLinmFANdSCZFNoQ4oQ_5E2ePwkUtlSVQLa69iWGQrMbnCRKirH6mzC_1yuE0_qnR27-GMsGFH4ieUCLlpm6ILKDTICdXQpUglGfN3_4UPp5gHGlLj8sDosCp3maVMIjFLyBbFv_SfjSgdrP3DOgtQt3uvDA=s4029" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4029" data-original-width="2396" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaFPigQ7vbAR5sclUIRq04ANHaPyX62pLLinmFANdSCZFNoQ4oQ_5E2ePwkUtlSVQLa69iWGQrMbnCRKirH6mzC_1yuE0_qnR27-GMsGFH4ieUCLlpm6ILKDTICdXQpUglGfN3_4UPp5gHGlLj8sDosCp3maVMIjFLyBbFv_SfjSgdrP3DOgtQt3uvDA=s320" width="190" /></a></div>Notice the tin bucket underneath? The pioneers would fill it with milk in the morning, and by days end it would be churned into butter. Clever! <div><br /></div><div>Sharron is working on an exhibit about <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Bill_Hickok" target="_blank">Wild Bill Hickok</a>, who was the Constable in my town during the late 1850's. How cool is that?! Nearby a park, named after him, sits on the land of his homestead. I wonder if the families enjoying the playground realize they are standing on the property of such an enormously famous and notorious historical figure.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Monticello Township got absorbed into several surrounding cities: Shawnee, Lenexa and DeSoto. And by virtue of that, their archives hold information for families from all of those areas. Sharron showed me their holdings, which include records on schools, churches, cemeteries, and the Shawnee Indigenous Tribe. They also have boxes of family histories, which have been donated and compiled.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you are researching your ancestors or studying history (students!), you will have no better assistants than Sharron and Terry. Their knowledge is extensive. Also, you can follow their<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Monticello1857" target="_blank"> Facebook page</a>, and subscribe to their email newsletter.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am super excited to have this repository so close to my home. They have regular guest speakers and events. These types of establishments are my happy places!<br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-66572810346213347942022-03-03T13:06:00.012-08:002022-03-04T12:24:31.544-08:00The historic town square of Clinton, Missouri<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHci6aEseorwLARQ_jKoPInNJmq9j7Ty7AZCuE-rPXYzF03PM0lwdNOjTovT83-05zPeMooGPRlxUm6Yf6I40GmStz_olG4hYjIcsXAJ2JDV8umBdrrUjepF3trScSi4TQIJUJm6qCaJc3sCSay-3akYeG6eH4SIhxSnjkG2yNzBiUIO7Vw-UDGtaHRA=s3403" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3403" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHci6aEseorwLARQ_jKoPInNJmq9j7Ty7AZCuE-rPXYzF03PM0lwdNOjTovT83-05zPeMooGPRlxUm6Yf6I40GmStz_olG4hYjIcsXAJ2JDV8umBdrrUjepF3trScSi4TQIJUJm6qCaJc3sCSay-3akYeG6eH4SIhxSnjkG2yNzBiUIO7Vw-UDGtaHRA=s320" width="280" /></a></div>Do you know anything about Clinton, Missouri? I sure didn't. So I drove 1 1/2 hours south to explore this grand old historic town. The Square is typical of the Midwest. The courthouse is in the middle surrounded by Victorian buildings, now housing businesses and boutiques. I never tire of visiting historic town squares. Each one has its own unique distinctiveness. For instance, Clinton has the coolest museum - the <a href="http://henrycountymomuseum.org" target="_blank">Henry County Museum</a>. They have built an entire mini-town inside of it. They have a doctor's office, mercantile, bank, barbershop etc. Surprisingly, I learned that barbers used to provide the service of bloodletting with leeches. Who knew?! That is why I love museums. I always learn random, fascinating information; which could also be used sometime at a trivia night.<div>This movie poster highlights the town's actress, Jane Froman. It looks entertaining. I think I'd like to watch it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoI8HbirECz6a9hbF0XmwU8BLrjKEue_PBFhCbd2gwW0OKK_Rc2koB0sLelkTsIQSDCRBTSM_New8S1nWnJeYUoCpoec6NFuwC67xTGpNhPWgqYzGeGZSkuRxHfZVwHGSUuCa0W-UQRrb1zKmXVX8fDzergYyVbAIJLS-9JnhIJFXh5YTEcl8P2pgP2Q=s3723" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2909" data-original-width="3723" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoI8HbirECz6a9hbF0XmwU8BLrjKEue_PBFhCbd2gwW0OKK_Rc2koB0sLelkTsIQSDCRBTSM_New8S1nWnJeYUoCpoec6NFuwC67xTGpNhPWgqYzGeGZSkuRxHfZVwHGSUuCa0W-UQRrb1zKmXVX8fDzergYyVbAIJLS-9JnhIJFXh5YTEcl8P2pgP2Q=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Lucky me - the day I visited, the staff and volunteers of the genealogical society were working. Brenda kindly offered to show me around. Look at these endless rows of files containing probates back to 1836. Unbelievable! And no - they are not scanned and digitized and provided online. That is why everyone always dead ends when researching their ancestors on the internet. But the good news is that genealogical and historical societies, like this one, carefully preserve and safeguard these records for us. Then we get the fun of coming and discovering our relatives in their archives. The courthouse sent over their records to the Henry County Museum. So, they also have all the old wills. The community is conscientious to donate their historic documents to the Museum as well. There are shelves loaded with family notebooks. And what a treat it was for me to meet one of the volunteers, Betty Maxwell, who made a compilation of the town's history, in these books in the gift shop.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhcqVG9e19TQdSb_koENPCNxt4Dzug8OtOWkKF7dLyuyblZiprdN1uBc4mFLot_CBBVGoCiqEmhgkedZoi89lHkpXt9G0ckzDYLTCwuGn8efFPsuCGG8XbLk_9qhojMygzMP0-NXtRVv1rZoyUCzVZJD7PaneoiaEYXh9Pk0wt8kcMTGD0wHwDvLaAyQ=s3885" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2430" data-original-width="3885" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhcqVG9e19TQdSb_koENPCNxt4Dzug8OtOWkKF7dLyuyblZiprdN1uBc4mFLot_CBBVGoCiqEmhgkedZoi89lHkpXt9G0ckzDYLTCwuGn8efFPsuCGG8XbLk_9qhojMygzMP0-NXtRVv1rZoyUCzVZJD7PaneoiaEYXh9Pk0wt8kcMTGD0wHwDvLaAyQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>As Brenda continued the tour, Suzanne joined us. She is the Museum director. It is thrilling to have a private docent walk with me to answer my continuous questions, but to have two is a boon! They told me one tale after another about the town. I began to wish my ancestors were from here, so it would make the experience personal. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiECEupxQhv0KL6a4dJYEdAW8IrlO9OGuTzX6M-aE1LwYHODNv1cQmMFmE8encM-dOInbUnV4i416O7K9ghebYq8P0WUTEh0dXhMfYB1ArRItTu9k-FDH8DH9iMxInkRXGojJdIAxXGlAcRYBVKsPyD8yqeAmOOo40wZNxRLxMTG-gIy0YrZ4AUstIRRw=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiECEupxQhv0KL6a4dJYEdAW8IrlO9OGuTzX6M-aE1LwYHODNv1cQmMFmE8encM-dOInbUnV4i416O7K9ghebYq8P0WUTEh0dXhMfYB1ArRItTu9k-FDH8DH9iMxInkRXGojJdIAxXGlAcRYBVKsPyD8yqeAmOOo40wZNxRLxMTG-gIy0YrZ4AUstIRRw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>They showed me this mural made by the 4th grade class in 1979. It is made out of pieces of crayons. It is really good. I was super impressed with the creative teacher who invented the project. Do you think those children ever imagined their artwork would be on display in a museum 40 years later?! I hope they return to enjoy the memory.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are multiple buildings on the campus, so plan to spend several hours exploring this fabulous museum. And remember, if you find any documents on your ancestors here, please share them with all the other descendants, who may be searching for the information. Just upload them to <a href="http://FamilySearch.org">FamilySearch.org</a> and/or <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhllcq0Ksbhm1NaCbiwxHNe7IgG-tyFWefTkqYPZPUe256P1t3XeIWkikiLmCMeykNyQb16iHTRyFq2zjI_IsHAKpDlwso4b7D2q0R7Qf_sPkKDqqU4xqmagc3Km6MF35ffU1C8CXaF1pE7EslypypKa7xrMKzynTInqep-pDIhZQj5xntINdvGeQ_x9w=s3902" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3902" data-original-width="2870" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhllcq0Ksbhm1NaCbiwxHNe7IgG-tyFWefTkqYPZPUe256P1t3XeIWkikiLmCMeykNyQb16iHTRyFq2zjI_IsHAKpDlwso4b7D2q0R7Qf_sPkKDqqU4xqmagc3Km6MF35ffU1C8CXaF1pE7EslypypKa7xrMKzynTInqep-pDIhZQj5xntINdvGeQ_x9w=s320" width="235" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Back out on the Square, I spied this darling boutique. Inside, I met Sarah Goth, the proprietor of the <a href="https://thebluebirdmerc.com" target="_blank">Blue Bird Mercantile</a>. She says they offer Missouri-based or Missouri-featured items. She supports small family companies. I like that. It is a really good thing to do. She showed me around the displays, while I enjoyed the nostalgic music that was playing. She crafts an ambiance of warm welcome. It was enjoyable hearing about the individual craftspeople. I like hearing the stories of the items, and the sweet families who make them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sarah says she can't keep the <a href="https://stickypigbbq.com" target="_blank">Sticky Pig</a> barbecue sauce on the shelves. It is that popular. It looks delish.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPPtyOT7Liy8-qrGST8wC9HK1PYWBOh8691ceMMmieooOZYg28x28Mls7YM3bo9ERD2PHdETRGmWvHm8gNY-6wooAbbqA-Y86ePCeVvFrhjqYgVV2SMws3kZVw3EuUKhOwlzAoRSN4T2x9FeR7l568QCScYNahBLr4jB6zCfko3XMNblxLymB57hAn-w=s2529" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2245" data-original-width="2529" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPPtyOT7Liy8-qrGST8wC9HK1PYWBOh8691ceMMmieooOZYg28x28Mls7YM3bo9ERD2PHdETRGmWvHm8gNY-6wooAbbqA-Y86ePCeVvFrhjqYgVV2SMws3kZVw3EuUKhOwlzAoRSN4T2x9FeR7l568QCScYNahBLr4jB6zCfko3XMNblxLymB57hAn-w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>They have a section with wines and liquors made in the region. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiyt5FgGGsshxoE-VCX-3DrR0zNxOsKbluLjobcKtmCMw0BryI1Cet3Sdli_QmYA9lR1vz-KcwQFn0Dy3okbARkWjNdBzOXIKboWku2sGpdxRct8Sw6KSrSoytfTSiM7y5pNZhY2YbjnQHejoFuSq8V7cqeTV7foDaBb5SyJo_HUsBI8vPeh4D3ODzCfQ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2844" data-original-width="4032" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiyt5FgGGsshxoE-VCX-3DrR0zNxOsKbluLjobcKtmCMw0BryI1Cet3Sdli_QmYA9lR1vz-KcwQFn0Dy3okbARkWjNdBzOXIKboWku2sGpdxRct8Sw6KSrSoytfTSiM7y5pNZhY2YbjnQHejoFuSq8V7cqeTV7foDaBb5SyJo_HUsBI8vPeh4D3ODzCfQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>While I was there, a townswoman entered the shop, and Sarah introduced me to her. She is a local author! Deanna Hendrich is pictured here with her inspirational book, "<a href="https://thebluebirdmerc.com/products/deanna-hendrich-devotional?variant=39273245769803&currency=USD&utm_medium=product_sync&utm_source=google&utm_content=sag_organic&utm_campaign=sag_organic" target="_blank">Grace Abounds</a>". She was absolutely delightful to chat with. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOiH9jyJpQ_krtoA0h-cFTmku7Fn4p55iCx0ii9QGjHSewHWLm9tgbUwB8sZeVnqMxFIlxstEp2a8vQhsYHgye34yzmz7YH9UDuYypIWa7pohiI0iUgfsEon5Wco0rfOgFenq2n_aXV0zAO_5KWyCHaShO32IcZyYQKROaYm40KOe-HgwQItB5hbmyHg=s3622" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3622" data-original-width="2956" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOiH9jyJpQ_krtoA0h-cFTmku7Fn4p55iCx0ii9QGjHSewHWLm9tgbUwB8sZeVnqMxFIlxstEp2a8vQhsYHgye34yzmz7YH9UDuYypIWa7pohiI0iUgfsEon5Wco0rfOgFenq2n_aXV0zAO_5KWyCHaShO32IcZyYQKROaYm40KOe-HgwQItB5hbmyHg=s320" width="261" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div>I said my goodbyes, and continued my stroll around the Square. I soon came upon another boutique, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SPOC.GiftsandMore/" target="_blank">Simple Pleasures of Clinton</a>. I introduced myself to the owner, Diane McClure. She showed me around her lovely shop. These bright happy-colored leather earrings drew me. They are crafted by a local artisan, which makes them even more special.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEVJywlUYRg2JU8QZY7K5Vp0Lqc1BqF9V1iyFzCsPbxWKlvpIHEAG65McJYnNi3QZk-VAMdWnhoPS6ngOdsIrHTcbMdx-Ddo1X0sFZownSMtqDGiZZBLteyTevXMbQVn7viH0rxNUFjJGm4avhJS5KqZEh7zh1zzXGqARVBM8-Oqtg7eQc_b6VKYU3oQ=s3744" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2626" data-original-width="3744" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEVJywlUYRg2JU8QZY7K5Vp0Lqc1BqF9V1iyFzCsPbxWKlvpIHEAG65McJYnNi3QZk-VAMdWnhoPS6ngOdsIrHTcbMdx-Ddo1X0sFZownSMtqDGiZZBLteyTevXMbQVn7viH0rxNUFjJGm4avhJS5KqZEh7zh1zzXGqARVBM8-Oqtg7eQc_b6VKYU3oQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I was glad to see these wax melts as I had just purchased a warmer, but did not have the candle wax. I bought several of these <a href="https://www.friendlyflamer.com" target="_blank">Friendly Flamers</a>. Their scent is wonderful!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_FLyefURFPtJQOdXC_zt0Yw8FE5k96WhJJae1y6rekUArJWU3mhED3S4lBmGFwUPpleEixtkJEGDCYhIq3p0i2fP7eARlHU3rFg0ZtA108kqOu-N_BUCzNfPrVn17MAF2uJs2ROIFhFB5tmcYIM7kqGUG2-mY1SDCiN9RvpA1i9zAL4qNJxfao9g2Dw=s3681" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3681" data-original-width="2282" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_FLyefURFPtJQOdXC_zt0Yw8FE5k96WhJJae1y6rekUArJWU3mhED3S4lBmGFwUPpleEixtkJEGDCYhIq3p0i2fP7eARlHU3rFg0ZtA108kqOu-N_BUCzNfPrVn17MAF2uJs2ROIFhFB5tmcYIM7kqGUG2-mY1SDCiN9RvpA1i9zAL4qNJxfao9g2Dw=s320" width="198" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Diane told me a gentleman in his 90's is the woodworker who makes these magnificent bowls. To hear these stories creates the feeling of connectedness with the artists and their creations. It is a satisfying experience.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXARJNq9AzrZrJiYTk8nd6QShtI_ROzcmMRA8tOrMGJV7maZ8lQppCHH-wnnZ-0Y0fVZIl7dL-WwlxTlQkncRA9mLqmuxJyGfjQJVYWiP__7O0CbmmfHWk1oRPs1GgHCA7fDblDHusX0Bz0NmI8D9HBWqRNV8iZxkE2SZvdya216QQkUGkOtVHVT64AQ=s3327" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3327" data-original-width="2975" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXARJNq9AzrZrJiYTk8nd6QShtI_ROzcmMRA8tOrMGJV7maZ8lQppCHH-wnnZ-0Y0fVZIl7dL-WwlxTlQkncRA9mLqmuxJyGfjQJVYWiP__7O0CbmmfHWk1oRPs1GgHCA7fDblDHusX0Bz0NmI8D9HBWqRNV8iZxkE2SZvdya216QQkUGkOtVHVT64AQ=s320" width="286" /></a></div><br /><div>My last stop of the day was to the office of "<a href="https://www.facebook.com/clintonmainstreet/" target="_blank">Clinton Main Street</a>" organization, where I sat and chatted with Tina. She is a young woman who has an enormous appreciation of the history of the town. I learned much from her. So, if you are doing any research in town, please schedule a visit with Tina. She has a great wealth of knowledge. Tina told me about the incredible website: <a href="http://henrycomo.us" target="_blank"> HenryCoMo.US</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had a really pleasant day on the Square. The townsfolk are readily interactive, and genuinely welcoming. I hope you come here. I truly believe you will have a lovely day too!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-15157987116483444932022-02-14T12:54:00.002-08:002022-02-14T13:01:55.140-08:00Why do people shop at antique stores??<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwhIOTlqzlY0_NsYyM65mwrWflIiBy9ikUvNZXMLucIbtDJG6g0Swf5AyGNwCFn8EM3vGeni_ogwPPwBRKmg7A0Zif62dndNwFPrDRw0iD_wCKggEQ6CXZ3iMOMhU-p-PyCcUcc94a4SPsmlgDNhofpSxkFaYmZyufXc4yE_QwQvfGuzv7ciHNT-JHGQ=s3695" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3695" data-original-width="2883" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwhIOTlqzlY0_NsYyM65mwrWflIiBy9ikUvNZXMLucIbtDJG6g0Swf5AyGNwCFn8EM3vGeni_ogwPPwBRKmg7A0Zif62dndNwFPrDRw0iD_wCKggEQ6CXZ3iMOMhU-p-PyCcUcc94a4SPsmlgDNhofpSxkFaYmZyufXc4yE_QwQvfGuzv7ciHNT-JHGQ=s320" width="250" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p> I have never shopped at antique stores. Never. Why would I want something old when I can have something brand new?! But I am now scouring antique stores all over the vicinity of Kansas City, because I am looking for photographs of the ancestors for 2 of my clients. So, I am there for a very specific reason, looking for a particular item. And these are great places to find vintage photographs. I started my day at the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GlenwoodAntiqueMall/" target="_blank">Glenwood </a>Antique Mall in Overland Park, Kansas. I came upon multiple baskets of pictures. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIE_Wbr-52zk0ZBO-chbhs6ZjsgEksa-uwtMhkmSvDV8Y9FGS3XUg8aXbdzvNlayYrgPqOm8Z26lp69p2d8mEh7ePOLqpEA7tBQOywoF0ibOUv3SKv8osUeUbPVUwTH-Zhz2mbWNISSHJ1Cf9YT-YFHu_OaxB72uc8_lkZW-4R3j1r1eA1Xy3o-8YppA=s3036" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3036" data-original-width="2822" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIE_Wbr-52zk0ZBO-chbhs6ZjsgEksa-uwtMhkmSvDV8Y9FGS3XUg8aXbdzvNlayYrgPqOm8Z26lp69p2d8mEh7ePOLqpEA7tBQOywoF0ibOUv3SKv8osUeUbPVUwTH-Zhz2mbWNISSHJ1Cf9YT-YFHu_OaxB72uc8_lkZW-4R3j1r1eA1Xy3o-8YppA=s320" width="297" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I need the photo to be named. However, many are not. </p><p><br /></p><p>I discovered the family photo below and just couldn't leave it there. The people were named on the back, and I felt that I should try to reconnect them with their descendants.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgck70cajopuZtAeyd0vODcCkvgOipIbe722bL4vQ5s79NrR0WtnnFECM4zo7wO9sa1zlLuns8gxa4unb_HpUgPaZ09RV5_9ccp6vyOjNLmA0fyqf7KzdZVjekVkXaRBk2SQjVsPyfWqIHX6CSFmvDEGY4wkx00_q1LUOluUOLjfghggPmoQrL8j-iQsA=s3167" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2699" data-original-width="3167" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgck70cajopuZtAeyd0vODcCkvgOipIbe722bL4vQ5s79NrR0WtnnFECM4zo7wO9sa1zlLuns8gxa4unb_HpUgPaZ09RV5_9ccp6vyOjNLmA0fyqf7KzdZVjekVkXaRBk2SQjVsPyfWqIHX6CSFmvDEGY4wkx00_q1LUOluUOLjfghggPmoQrL8j-iQsA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmuA2UaO7Vd8tjlzrcG3Ac2CAKroLNpqhH0m7byygMvE9exmfa1msEQ6e3Gitsvr7mIBhLgvxQUd2_PktgD0m1WVNFFAvIn_ih5SW4sPOA2j0Wrncappo-kEJbGpQyX1aP-HBx73T1ARNfsq8ccC1tRQxakBfTYHaKNlfW4jTXTNylsiwUNXGSPIy8ZA=s4012" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2914" data-original-width="4012" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmuA2UaO7Vd8tjlzrcG3Ac2CAKroLNpqhH0m7byygMvE9exmfa1msEQ6e3Gitsvr7mIBhLgvxQUd2_PktgD0m1WVNFFAvIn_ih5SW4sPOA2j0Wrncappo-kEJbGpQyX1aP-HBx73T1ARNfsq8ccC1tRQxakBfTYHaKNlfW4jTXTNylsiwUNXGSPIy8ZA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I bought it and began to do a descendancy search. That is a laborious process. It requires finding them on <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a> or <a href="http://FamilySearch.org">FamilySearch.org</a> and then tracing forward to living family members. Then current contact information must be determined, and thereafter finding someone who is interested and wants the photo. So, I decided an easier method was to post on the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/MissouriGenealogy/" target="_blank">Missouri Genealogy</a> and the<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Harrison-County-Missouri-Genealogy-161445087220855/" target="_blank"> Harrison County</a> Genealogy Facebook pages, as this is where the family resided. No responses yet, so if you know of anyone connected to this Kemp family, please let me know!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6JV9I86K-WH56wlhlvpWyywNFi5oH-ZwDOStENlMc4tQWc8Lk5hNRKpmDVDFCmTL8jwGTmT22h_iRZZvhogH49Mvil5O2eMvW7LbU4Wv-W9BvVzNwqYdXjL5DUWin-VRkSt6UKiPwkY3aF7uDfRPy4aI0r3bcw1TWcLo_2lbYhCOFoWuT-PnJuAM-cw=s3634" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3634" data-original-width="2810" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6JV9I86K-WH56wlhlvpWyywNFi5oH-ZwDOStENlMc4tQWc8Lk5hNRKpmDVDFCmTL8jwGTmT22h_iRZZvhogH49Mvil5O2eMvW7LbU4Wv-W9BvVzNwqYdXjL5DUWin-VRkSt6UKiPwkY3aF7uDfRPy4aI0r3bcw1TWcLo_2lbYhCOFoWuT-PnJuAM-cw=s320" width="247" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>While there, I saw this marriage certificate from 1907! I hope it can find its way back to its family. What a treasure.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2LbZTGO9HSqSlWUCpRM0cQiDQnuCGfTP5kkgRcqX27mjSg5zyAUqYgthu1cLPlytoaRNWB70lohuYVWsIqyKhO5_FDgmh5d5EPJ8UFgV8xuVFY5oOI5TCHNGf3kT6PWJrm05p4uTXw3ZKbtUjafAQo8AhxVUvsi7SDR0jPbRToEKz6xt85vL3_DFbxA=s4012" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2882" data-original-width="4012" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2LbZTGO9HSqSlWUCpRM0cQiDQnuCGfTP5kkgRcqX27mjSg5zyAUqYgthu1cLPlytoaRNWB70lohuYVWsIqyKhO5_FDgmh5d5EPJ8UFgV8xuVFY5oOI5TCHNGf3kT6PWJrm05p4uTXw3ZKbtUjafAQo8AhxVUvsi7SDR0jPbRToEKz6xt85vL3_DFbxA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I perused around the store, and found lots of interesting historical items. It is like being in a museum with items from every era.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2zNBBZKhjdZeZbiveXudHijdaNko9DXMeZtJiKZCBU6tyKUlzaZXFOkr-oodcMogZ6BFl72KjABzWG8Cgl47QQTsFLm6amuhF0G3NZncVjTr2tCDzIPxGNCqSjgT-YyUjvtl0it4zFFxMEEOydI4Aj7dEMggONwEeCIc1zUWfiYejAxh3C6xW3cakzQ=s3803" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3803" data-original-width="2852" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2zNBBZKhjdZeZbiveXudHijdaNko9DXMeZtJiKZCBU6tyKUlzaZXFOkr-oodcMogZ6BFl72KjABzWG8Cgl47QQTsFLm6amuhF0G3NZncVjTr2tCDzIPxGNCqSjgT-YyUjvtl0it4zFFxMEEOydI4Aj7dEMggONwEeCIc1zUWfiYejAxh3C6xW3cakzQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I especially enjoyed the enchanting dolls.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXKP95KEggfV3SnTlXXGBsK5WzTdzGI14b0b2DW-I9o6aFyC1nCb7rtsQC8lRwv9z5VekA6NDqqsJAsM8CJN4kgYWGnOa7bur14yVFGg7mwIzteiuqHEmLWEI03W6ESZ7wxKEA2dpiGsB7D3VrVy90qnICG5A0eOp5illyF_0Zk0idLYF5yHBdjNaAKw=s3505" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3505" data-original-width="2130" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXKP95KEggfV3SnTlXXGBsK5WzTdzGI14b0b2DW-I9o6aFyC1nCb7rtsQC8lRwv9z5VekA6NDqqsJAsM8CJN4kgYWGnOa7bur14yVFGg7mwIzteiuqHEmLWEI03W6ESZ7wxKEA2dpiGsB7D3VrVy90qnICG5A0eOp5illyF_0Zk0idLYF5yHBdjNaAKw=s320" width="194" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I understand why people who have an esteem for history and genealogy shop at antique stores, but I couldn't figure out why other customers would.<div><br /></div><div>I traveled over to Grain Valley, Missouri to explore a shop that was recommended as one of the largest in the area. I was astounded by its enormity. I entered the<a href="https://www.brassarmadillo.com/kansascity/" target="_blank"> Brass Armadillo Antique Mall</a> focused on locating vintage photographs. As I wandered the many aisles, I began asking patrons why they shopped in an antique store. A sweet young couple told me she buys retro clothing and books. He looks for mechanical items, such as clocks. I later saw a gentleman seriously examining a 1970 custom amp in a musical instrument booth. Another young couple told me that she enjoys collecting tea cups, and he purchases hand tools and refurbishes them. He said the old ones are more durable.</div><div><br /></div><div>That all made good sense to me. So I started seeing the wares with a new perspective. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqyi1KM-wnSJdDsum2djPtGwLA_jvZtAP_GrbCZ4_17PPrJkEv-4yjyX2f-8zMLwDrSa4B7Dll6JdoMOmkEcO1Zn-hO-EuXX6HMKCCKLJYLJbZe-WmmnYJDHttRZamu9RF1XPJftv0zWSyPAWGsEid4kna-468ZpUsVhfZKcLc1LTzc3i030H15vAuqA=s3832" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3832" data-original-width="2239" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqyi1KM-wnSJdDsum2djPtGwLA_jvZtAP_GrbCZ4_17PPrJkEv-4yjyX2f-8zMLwDrSa4B7Dll6JdoMOmkEcO1Zn-hO-EuXX6HMKCCKLJYLJbZe-WmmnYJDHttRZamu9RF1XPJftv0zWSyPAWGsEid4kna-468ZpUsVhfZKcLc1LTzc3i030H15vAuqA=s320" width="187" /></a></div>I found a booth overflowing with strong, sturdy hand tools.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe5eZLvTXYuD05uQ2J2wKfGkB8sR2bJIfWKz9mRBM2IKojVkwZGpAsBE-xY8Q6ATkfnPwvS8e57h81VuL9jWtiWhHpZyHo6HuSlW0C1EVssIimkg91pdhnLSAXBTEvcotqSFBZMYozgdfXHbGWVBPim6l0q7XpmudXaTrP5FBDyyVJ-WjH9zMoSHX7KQ=s3913" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3913" data-original-width="2680" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe5eZLvTXYuD05uQ2J2wKfGkB8sR2bJIfWKz9mRBM2IKojVkwZGpAsBE-xY8Q6ATkfnPwvS8e57h81VuL9jWtiWhHpZyHo6HuSlW0C1EVssIimkg91pdhnLSAXBTEvcotqSFBZMYozgdfXHbGWVBPim6l0q7XpmudXaTrP5FBDyyVJ-WjH9zMoSHX7KQ=s320" width="219" /></a></div><div>I found another booth with lovely gloves. I inherited my grandmother's gloves, but over time they disappeared. I think they are such an ageless fashion addition to any attire.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilUQcGSUjEXMCgUqthWWY0zg3W0lcId02DtYbo1m8Kz8wiBiPyK6sVq688mAwS3oNopXP1_IZNkB6YBkv35JUN0iU9xaUBhxffjElHc0mOn5VshzD_UabzaX2MYSu3ufwr7DvKb4hoQ7HSzNG5KZhvo76Jy-cDfhPzD6JpZodcOV5c2NEXaiTx5vu9kA=s3396" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3005" data-original-width="3396" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilUQcGSUjEXMCgUqthWWY0zg3W0lcId02DtYbo1m8Kz8wiBiPyK6sVq688mAwS3oNopXP1_IZNkB6YBkv35JUN0iU9xaUBhxffjElHc0mOn5VshzD_UabzaX2MYSu3ufwr7DvKb4hoQ7HSzNG5KZhvo76Jy-cDfhPzD6JpZodcOV5c2NEXaiTx5vu9kA=s320" width="320" /></a></div>And who doesn't love perfectly seasoned cast iron pan?!<div><br /></div><div>It was all making sense to me now. People shop in antique stores for collectibles, practical items that may have been made better-to last, and objects that remind them of happy childhoods. I suddenly realized I was quickly becoming an antiquer! I was savoring my time in these shops. One staff member told me, with a smile, to "pack a lunch" when I come to the Brass Armadillo. She wasn't kidding! I could spend hours there.....<br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-8789478842081270462022-02-13T15:15:00.003-08:002022-02-13T15:18:09.974-08:00The old town square of Butler, Missouri<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaM9jGMi9972LzDLWCm-arro3XfO6oxdvielCcPXQspuAKom2DbscFz-CP2tJf4m8W1mQrl6Sj-2oV-f0N7kvHOkCFO3IPvFrcTPpjQDbCuf4Q_MXWX7vzK3e_A9IgAK7ZTOPkEsRPT_sWNhCnCM9VlNdz_vR3kUTZTc_DEsxeytA4uXaV3qwth0JhOQ=s3211" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3211" data-original-width="3013" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaM9jGMi9972LzDLWCm-arro3XfO6oxdvielCcPXQspuAKom2DbscFz-CP2tJf4m8W1mQrl6Sj-2oV-f0N7kvHOkCFO3IPvFrcTPpjQDbCuf4Q_MXWX7vzK3e_A9IgAK7ZTOPkEsRPT_sWNhCnCM9VlNdz_vR3kUTZTc_DEsxeytA4uXaV3qwth0JhOQ=s320" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I love an old town square with a majestic courthouse in the middle. Butler Missouri is a fine square. The buildings are original and well cared for. Because court was in session, I was unable to go inside the courthouse for a touristy visit. So I crossed the street to peruse around the square.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I especially enjoy boutiques on the square, so I started with the<a href="https://www.bolddaisyshop.com" target="_blank"> Bold Daisy shop</a>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEja-keZrD6xVjX3ojcHAKeU-7oSIYR5B-335YTBZ1dmO_9PwOJdcCemPkfnnI7V3Msvn_OSGHC5cYxbgg_9GQiAouvMZ8-YZ2pRO9OltrNB5LpVF9d7hpomoAT_qI73PuTm7Q0rKD6fZCoTlV4Ck208fGJ-VrLd9baa_CDzmvT5IAYqDiKFw-sLnjwtOg=s3563" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3563" data-original-width="3019" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEja-keZrD6xVjX3ojcHAKeU-7oSIYR5B-335YTBZ1dmO_9PwOJdcCemPkfnnI7V3Msvn_OSGHC5cYxbgg_9GQiAouvMZ8-YZ2pRO9OltrNB5LpVF9d7hpomoAT_qI73PuTm7Q0rKD6fZCoTlV4Ck208fGJ-VrLd9baa_CDzmvT5IAYqDiKFw-sLnjwtOg=s320" width="271" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Inside, I met a mother, Angie, and her 23-year-old daughter, Hannah. I mistakenly made the assumption that the shop was owned by the mother. I quickly learned that the daughter is the proprietor. She creates all the above earrings, and even designs each card on which they are showcased. Hannah is a remarkably creative entrepreneur. Inventiveness may run in the family, as Hannah's grandmother (Cholista) and her aunt (Kelley) created the crocheted earrings and gnomes below, repectively:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6rbhDR-Y015sNXgb-LPP65mPUrJ30kC75IPIuNnPx85RlEIAJCASbkS-7DcfGmeGRY2zO3F1Fgjr36SkCuzLif4DZGqc_6ZEulEl-BjrsYeDDnaGIbKb7l0iMppI7N8gKzffugpXGMiU0kZhvZiBwpzIJkKI2N24NCxWveL8ztjQZYv7dxNeSuyMXGA=s3334" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3334" data-original-width="3015" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6rbhDR-Y015sNXgb-LPP65mPUrJ30kC75IPIuNnPx85RlEIAJCASbkS-7DcfGmeGRY2zO3F1Fgjr36SkCuzLif4DZGqc_6ZEulEl-BjrsYeDDnaGIbKb7l0iMppI7N8gKzffugpXGMiU0kZhvZiBwpzIJkKI2N24NCxWveL8ztjQZYv7dxNeSuyMXGA=s320" width="289" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj4GrcMUtfeQ6VvLDg0DGLB7up08qoSeLhZAdjuiiZywgxJiQ1TjqP_cZrmuqGWn90YR9qw6uggRw1bXv6cF6Lz434LSNvspICK_BE59lIS-fvoaP1js3OZBcDCSQTCNnM303wOeLa7B-zZTuOzQwZkUz3S2BoJSciA7yN0hKhsx83Q4-vP5z4oSenv3g=s3605" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3605" data-original-width="2233" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj4GrcMUtfeQ6VvLDg0DGLB7up08qoSeLhZAdjuiiZywgxJiQ1TjqP_cZrmuqGWn90YR9qw6uggRw1bXv6cF6Lz434LSNvspICK_BE59lIS-fvoaP1js3OZBcDCSQTCNnM303wOeLa7B-zZTuOzQwZkUz3S2BoJSciA7yN0hKhsx83Q4-vP5z4oSenv3g=s320" width="198" /></a></div><br /><p>Hand-crafted items seem more meaningful than machine-produced wares. I think they make special gifts. It was a delight to visit with this family and be in the presence of such imaginative artisans.</p><p>A few doors down, I found the town newspaper -- <a href="https://www.midamericashopper.com" target="_blank">The Shopper</a>. I chatted with the owner, Doug. His paper is a blend of advertisement and news. He has a section of newspaper quotes from previous decades. One notation from 1921 states: "A large crowd attends the ministerial alliance meeting in Rich Hill. Subjects include dancing, drinking, gambling, sabbath discretion, pool halls, etc. A notice is made for pastors to unite to clean up Rich Hill." It is delightful to read about our great+grandparents' world. I am glad Doug provides this for his readers. If you are in town, stop and talk with him. He has entertaining tales from the past.</p><p>I moved on to<a href="https://rcquilts.com" target="_blank"> Rocking Chair Quilts</a>. Just stepping inside causes elation. The vivid, happy colors surround the visitor with inspiration. No wonder the displayed quilts are created with intense beauty. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDBthNr7NplGr_72L63Nn02ZZoORGobxqTWy6oeuLG_qBmJxOeI90OrMcOlSd25EoJRrSsDJjUAo32VvEkNb4DBcf2UR3aW2mdAnLhH17-V6b-LYjLUj1mOsyPmZqWZKboFUVNIkQu8JX9_3PbOR_01uYVfatohCTdwLHoIkBGcBksC62QDrbQxDDxOw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2536" data-original-width="4032" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDBthNr7NplGr_72L63Nn02ZZoORGobxqTWy6oeuLG_qBmJxOeI90OrMcOlSd25EoJRrSsDJjUAo32VvEkNb4DBcf2UR3aW2mdAnLhH17-V6b-LYjLUj1mOsyPmZqWZKboFUVNIkQu8JX9_3PbOR_01uYVfatohCTdwLHoIkBGcBksC62QDrbQxDDxOw=s320" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimWv4Qe9jsBUQwhxc40afgH2dDKzf2_syia3i_FLhQz4tdZW8Qmf5GPWSdkjDRXdkriK84DSOEkeOmwQoRi1GssEER-oSdkszkQyqxE37JLHTDF2rmwAo-aG-tLaWW8cUtDdGVaV8wMaIN3OaeAssxYl7djXfG3BJAFw1AeTJsvsv4d6K-Ctvz1XPpSg=s2989" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2161" data-original-width="2989" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimWv4Qe9jsBUQwhxc40afgH2dDKzf2_syia3i_FLhQz4tdZW8Qmf5GPWSdkjDRXdkriK84DSOEkeOmwQoRi1GssEER-oSdkszkQyqxE37JLHTDF2rmwAo-aG-tLaWW8cUtDdGVaV8wMaIN3OaeAssxYl7djXfG3BJAFw1AeTJsvsv4d6K-Ctvz1XPpSg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9XDIHWSxVgTbAa8G_7UZblQSC1MoY8lTH8wyw48KT7uv_EGCZGf7JridKtM3oY7acqkNX4ZRHmyzXG75_tYb1azGw6vHQO0MoXptkFk7IMC0-kJUc411U23bNBylvKa6znuBOzvUNulxQalVy_q1m2wL-hiqRVWYQAe3pV-HWNWMM2irwoUiRD3hvAg=s3845" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="3845" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9XDIHWSxVgTbAa8G_7UZblQSC1MoY8lTH8wyw48KT7uv_EGCZGf7JridKtM3oY7acqkNX4ZRHmyzXG75_tYb1azGw6vHQO0MoXptkFk7IMC0-kJUc411U23bNBylvKa6znuBOzvUNulxQalVy_q1m2wL-hiqRVWYQAe3pV-HWNWMM2irwoUiRD3hvAg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>On one corner of the Square is<a href="https://www.facebook.com/mainstreetmenagerie" target="_blank"> Main Street Menagerie</a>. I met the young owner, Kyle. He owns another historic building on the Square. Talk to anyone who owns an historic building, and they will generally know their property and its past well. Kyle showed me the intricately decorated hinge and doorknob he saved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidakdIyU5J6PiKwZzu856ZfAoCHY3ImY76Pkc6qpj72D-jVk4_CKLepxr5LrAseSeIKgd6TptIq5fIMjhR8PQD00ewBDj5Q7Y-NikpXJWT8EINX3Yt8PARshlUmsgucOudLXdIEfTBim3T_NFYaYmEhdqdZzPG7gieZEq2irDFa3f_jSYnvitKEXFbKg=s3212" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3212" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidakdIyU5J6PiKwZzu856ZfAoCHY3ImY76Pkc6qpj72D-jVk4_CKLepxr5LrAseSeIKgd6TptIq5fIMjhR8PQD00ewBDj5Q7Y-NikpXJWT8EINX3Yt8PARshlUmsgucOudLXdIEfTBim3T_NFYaYmEhdqdZzPG7gieZEq2irDFa3f_jSYnvitKEXFbKg=s320" width="301" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglpqgTwwSUlz_KeleR8Klt3WzUalojDeuxrD77hwRPXRdJNjzYTGulc0r0M_41cvYIvlLSfgv2WLvaC23JNof29FD_29QZDTLeKdhKP5qAAec3snHgj_nelrr29rpez9Ue0XXrdcvwMEnCF-kBj1pFBOx7h1C2CuYjw9bFUwsDHBQ95qaeJeZ6RSoe6Q=s3830" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3830" data-original-width="2227" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglpqgTwwSUlz_KeleR8Klt3WzUalojDeuxrD77hwRPXRdJNjzYTGulc0r0M_41cvYIvlLSfgv2WLvaC23JNof29FD_29QZDTLeKdhKP5qAAec3snHgj_nelrr29rpez9Ue0XXrdcvwMEnCF-kBj1pFBOx7h1C2CuYjw9bFUwsDHBQ95qaeJeZ6RSoe6Q=s320" width="186" /></a></div><br /><div>The Menagerie holds multiple vendor booths. Many of the boutiques on the Square are fairly new, and are owned by sweet families. It is enjoyable to shop from them. </div><div><br /></div><div>My last stop of the day was <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CafeAffogatoButler" target="_blank">Cafe Affogato</a>. Tom opened this coffee shop only one month ago. He is a self-taught barista, and an excellent one. The hot cocoa he made me was delectable. Come and visit with Tom. A good conversation always heightens a coffee shop experience, and Tom has fascinating stories. Raised in nearby Clay County, he spent his adult life as a Foreign Service Officer in Beijing, Shanghai, Beruit, Iraq.... Thankfully he and his wife chose this good town to come home to, and open this relaxing coffeehouse.</div><div><br /></div><div>If your ancestors lived in this county, see my<a href="https://camimayer.blogspot.com/2022/02/bates-county-missouri-has-astonishing.html" target="_blank"> blog</a> about where you can discover information about them. And whatever you have or find, please share it with the world on <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a> and/or <a href="http://FamilySearch.org">FamilySearch.org</a>. This region is serious about their history and they preserve it well. Kudos to them! </div><div><br /></div><div>Before I left town, I mentioned to someone that I had never seen so many trucks in one place. They explained that this is ranching community. That makes sense. I have heard that ranchers are amiable folk. And it is surely true here in Butler Missouri -- everyone I met was wonderfully kind and friendly. I look forward to returning often. </div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-38308262664565057422022-02-13T09:33:00.001-08:002022-02-13T09:34:48.798-08:00Bates County Missouri has an astonishing museum.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYvvvf-k-xeSEpWTxxcYmW_H5ITrRy5j8EDi2h1yvV2NXY2Kaz0qFqC7Y8f3X-cXYCCDwrMr7NMIAGkz28xx2rbXLuWHc0MGuQqj-IfFunblBK6pZRVLnN5ngP7xu0XnUqWGVDYlgat-g8kKu12A5npMH14rdEagYoVxEenXEcml9zWuRroAuGNoyyEw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2589" data-original-width="4032" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYvvvf-k-xeSEpWTxxcYmW_H5ITrRy5j8EDi2h1yvV2NXY2Kaz0qFqC7Y8f3X-cXYCCDwrMr7NMIAGkz28xx2rbXLuWHc0MGuQqj-IfFunblBK6pZRVLnN5ngP7xu0XnUqWGVDYlgat-g8kKu12A5npMH14rdEagYoVxEenXEcml9zWuRroAuGNoyyEw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I arrived at the <a href="https://batescountymuseum.org" target="_blank">Bates County Museum</a> out in the countryside, and was instantly thrilled to see it is housed in a building from 1915. How better to present history than on historic premises?!! It immediately sets the tone. I entered the grand dame through her front door. and was greeted by the museum director, Peggy Buhr. I was already excited beyond words as to what I would discover here. So, I was glad that Peggy captained the discussion. She is a natural, fascinating story-teller, who can truly bring the past back to life.</p><p><br /></p><p>The building was originally the Old County Poor Farm. The people who lived here became a ward of the county. It was a working farm, which allowed the residents to provide for their families. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBNObohsfClNZt5DOYbYJw-En96ACkH84Edn9cSoh9qjFdGNcqaFDvGU5KM1SooAS29-BqSXM1GBfwrEVXwihtq6PxBRfTcTrGHI13vQMa_BWnJrICC_GhDE1rFo0gkby1FWcpPGbuaL_RyBvfoRdMgsSeRzjBoe1uGb8FZkZRk6jHhcwxCn8MKsVZ2g=s3842" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3842" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBNObohsfClNZt5DOYbYJw-En96ACkH84Edn9cSoh9qjFdGNcqaFDvGU5KM1SooAS29-BqSXM1GBfwrEVXwihtq6PxBRfTcTrGHI13vQMa_BWnJrICC_GhDE1rFo0gkby1FWcpPGbuaL_RyBvfoRdMgsSeRzjBoe1uGb8FZkZRk6jHhcwxCn8MKsVZ2g=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Peggy showed me their archives. I stand in profound admiration when I enter such a repository. Since only a small percentage of all information has been scanned and digitized and provided online, everyone doing family research will always dead end on the computer. The rest of the details about our ancestors' lives reside in places like this. And the caretakers safeguard them for us. I am so very thankful for each of these overseers.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJIE3hhLRz7j-0CLOL5rlgBsaGIbX42-714Jyt7SuXObB2cousb4vV_wzdLXfX_TMIQAFuCc79PXcXiJeR4rbJRc99ApQgGipf52qU6FAXceZIPE7W0uSexCIBXfqlVgBVx0SVMkmDa-l-IDXPIPsAn13sgJwJ7kk1-sXTEL88rKTETJWpRUjN0beTYw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2766" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJIE3hhLRz7j-0CLOL5rlgBsaGIbX42-714Jyt7SuXObB2cousb4vV_wzdLXfX_TMIQAFuCc79PXcXiJeR4rbJRc99ApQgGipf52qU6FAXceZIPE7W0uSexCIBXfqlVgBVx0SVMkmDa-l-IDXPIPsAn13sgJwJ7kk1-sXTEL88rKTETJWpRUjN0beTYw=s320" width="220" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Look at this incredible tax ledger book from 1863. If your great+grandparents lived in this county, you would find them in this book. How thrilling would that be?!! </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7Nk0mP6uHNO7IqoV5hkIbp1x0V0nF3nGTmAp0Hcejc4p33qKFP9H1gLGfd3IiFgeYOZCV_mzF01QJ0O_Z4Ix1EF2mXs7zW4DGTU7EG__TPaXaE45JCBLw4qi6ymy5do-7nV6Is10GGYjlNfDCxWkRQN7LGk-Ody0DZzg-g3Ape1B6Rl62_fZOsIQaTA=s3746" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3746" data-original-width="2765" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7Nk0mP6uHNO7IqoV5hkIbp1x0V0nF3nGTmAp0Hcejc4p33qKFP9H1gLGfd3IiFgeYOZCV_mzF01QJ0O_Z4Ix1EF2mXs7zW4DGTU7EG__TPaXaE45JCBLw4qi6ymy5do-7nV6Is10GGYjlNfDCxWkRQN7LGk-Ody0DZzg-g3Ape1B6Rl62_fZOsIQaTA=s320" width="236" /></a></div><br /><p>Peggy showed me multiple file cabinets filled with family history and photographs. She has done all the work for you. It is organized and indexed. All you have to do is ask for it! How wonderful is that?!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi883C2HNvgfMTHA5Bh-MdOAwz1Jcc4W317QsPYB1txcxCcOMGbKntDioM7FE1Got28bOxdKrfXk5ZCmUa3r8OiLZsFUw0iwYQUNZansx80wS-d6QDSi2Xj0ArXWXMzveIBZ4RkLDa2X5NcDMbVNsl_e02gcN4K6daEpqDv4LmpKC4LkCcFNF3mSuvrHg=s3285" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3285" data-original-width="3005" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi883C2HNvgfMTHA5Bh-MdOAwz1Jcc4W317QsPYB1txcxCcOMGbKntDioM7FE1Got28bOxdKrfXk5ZCmUa3r8OiLZsFUw0iwYQUNZansx80wS-d6QDSi2Xj0ArXWXMzveIBZ4RkLDa2X5NcDMbVNsl_e02gcN4K6daEpqDv4LmpKC4LkCcFNF3mSuvrHg=s320" width="293" /></a></div><br /><p>Whatever you discover on your relatives, please share it with the world on <a href="https://www.familysearch.org/en/" target="_blank">FamilySearch.org </a>and/or <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a>. There are many other descendants looking for these records too.</p><p>Peggy then took me on a tour of the museum. It is far larger than I suspected. There are numerous rooms with individual themes. It is extraordinarily well done. It helps the visitor to feel the era in which their ancestors lived.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggKF9_y9iPIyTt3O-zaTKt1y0hFe1TMLnLrucPCaxOh_Iu2hfGE-YKnP7eN34via-Mjd6Qqb16BO2PlfYvUHab2xrsw7--lVxUzHYIhdbDDnTemHjjHLLmxFwP7l5-XrZSWtH4zQsQ19w7tXg-_WZnMos1oyIbwm1xPgJaXklSnrzuwS7ZJ__XWgvj6g=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2806" data-original-width="4032" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggKF9_y9iPIyTt3O-zaTKt1y0hFe1TMLnLrucPCaxOh_Iu2hfGE-YKnP7eN34via-Mjd6Qqb16BO2PlfYvUHab2xrsw7--lVxUzHYIhdbDDnTemHjjHLLmxFwP7l5-XrZSWtH4zQsQ19w7tXg-_WZnMos1oyIbwm1xPgJaXklSnrzuwS7ZJ__XWgvj6g=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>There are murals depicting the Civil War. This one so gripped me, I was gravely sobered. Peggy stood beside me quietly telling me how the black Kansas militia fought the Missouri guerrillas in 1862 at the Babble of Island Mound. She went on to describe the infamous Burnt Order #11, in which the Union army gave every resident of Bates County 15 days to evacuate; or every man, woman, and child would risk being shot on site. I could feel a rush of tears, and still do as I type this. It is unfathomable. How devastating it must've been for these families. The army burned each business and home in the entire county. Afterwards, only 40% of the citizens returned to their land. Being from San Diego, I remember little schooling on the Civil War, as I imagine our state was not heavily involved. So the stories back here in Kansas and Missouri are staggering to me. I wish everyone could come to this museum and hear Peggy verbalize the narration.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAeuhh2KB02zsiMNDwVCVkjh8H3f9d1CdvkVBL8tn5VlLjETnNjDeS-lC6GgxPWmvhCAEMX764JXV7rHK2g-wu6tGpuAxwOzrGYnv_CobONrYPVVKmvIzrv3TDrlIQYkp77s-c4LtXGkRposyiviYSH2e5gjodfi-bRrEXom6sd9NO8qd018vKSX4o3Q=s3355" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3355" data-original-width="2668" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAeuhh2KB02zsiMNDwVCVkjh8H3f9d1CdvkVBL8tn5VlLjETnNjDeS-lC6GgxPWmvhCAEMX764JXV7rHK2g-wu6tGpuAxwOzrGYnv_CobONrYPVVKmvIzrv3TDrlIQYkp77s-c4LtXGkRposyiviYSH2e5gjodfi-bRrEXom6sd9NO8qd018vKSX4o3Q=s320" width="254" /></a></div><br /><p>I try not to detail a museum too fully, as I want you to be able to go encounter it yourself. It is a totally different experience to read about it versus being present in person. The latter is deeply moving and satisfying. </p><p><br /></p><p>So, without giving away what all is contained in the rest of the rooms, I just wanted to mention this as it was surprising to me. During the Cold War, the government planted ballistic missiles in farmland throughout Missouri to intercept potential missiles from the Soviet Union. Do you see all the dots on the map? Those are the war heads. I can't imagine living in the vicinity of nuclear rockets. Thankfully, they were removed after the war. Peggy says some people then turned the missile silos into homes.</p><p><br /></p><p>Towards the end of the tour, Peggy took me to the large community room in the back of the building. She showed me a draped piano. She began removing the cloth cover, and I cheered with excitement. It is an 1877 Steinway piano, made of Brazilian rosewood, that was originally owned by the town physician - Dr. Pyle. In the 1880's, the train station was several miles away, so the piano was brought from the train to town by a horse and cart. I wonder if it was out of tune when it arrived. The picture in the background is of Dr. Pyle's home.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizRuVnr0fEUVwHHZanS-zSyJqBQGaGEBfeARtbOocdstMv0v4CwO1oxGYsR2uMdsN9xs86ysjQBdqHAo75ZU-Oan_GG6xRJPm1q03yK_FISRQ9B_63kWCbT0DI59nJY3GcMrHeJ8ZbrkCNwcOcJOuYyup8Ej5-OYO0nlMQKv0yUYFjz9rIMHFyOtijxA=s3907" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3907" data-original-width="2802" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizRuVnr0fEUVwHHZanS-zSyJqBQGaGEBfeARtbOocdstMv0v4CwO1oxGYsR2uMdsN9xs86ysjQBdqHAo75ZU-Oan_GG6xRJPm1q03yK_FISRQ9B_63kWCbT0DI59nJY3GcMrHeJ8ZbrkCNwcOcJOuYyup8Ej5-OYO0nlMQKv0yUYFjz9rIMHFyOtijxA=s320" width="229" /></a></div>Peggy worked for 4 years to raise the $60,000 to have the piano restored. Thankfully, the county citizens generously gave because they knew the value of their amazing heritage. I asked Peggy if only professional pianists are allowed to play it. She smiled and showed me a book of the names of everyone who has played it. I saw the the delicate scrawl of children on numerous pages. She says anyone can play it. What a gift! Thank you, Bates County Missouri.<div><br /></div><div>When tourists come to KC, they generally go to the large, well-known museums. But truly, they should come here. The staff and volunteers who work here do so because they have a vested interest in their county's legacy, and an acute appreciation of history. Christine is a new volunteer to the museum, and she was working intently on a donated Moro flag from the Philippine-American war of 1899 - 1902. Whenever I visit a museum, I always secretly wish I could have a personal docent walk me through it. Well, here you can! From the curator to the volunteers, you can get your questions answered with robust information. It is a museum experience unlike any other -- especially if you are doing a themed vacation to discover your ancestors!<br /><p><br /></p></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-80545376955980988392022-01-26T08:56:00.003-08:002022-02-06T13:32:39.749-08:00Sifting through antique stores in Johnson County, Kansas<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZvWJnSgOoSpKFQvE7AjQqq_mGWZ4oITrxkUvb9Y5ib7Kwv1j8Jqd11H9nWiXtSa4HGkBs0X1irEB-M0AMiONh4JOEX9vR3JKdntaR710O4LLloCQpFT2ZY8h-wUMglM57P9T29yluCUS74x3K1TYTyCzMKObsg2JnYbu_YBJBLeH0Ee7g8X9X96Crlw=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZvWJnSgOoSpKFQvE7AjQqq_mGWZ4oITrxkUvb9Y5ib7Kwv1j8Jqd11H9nWiXtSa4HGkBs0X1irEB-M0AMiONh4JOEX9vR3JKdntaR710O4LLloCQpFT2ZY8h-wUMglM57P9T29yluCUS74x3K1TYTyCzMKObsg2JnYbu_YBJBLeH0Ee7g8X9X96Crlw=s320" width="320" /></a></div>I never had an appreciation for antique stores. Everything seemed old and rusty. I like new and shiny. But I have 2 clients who are wanting me to find photographs of their ancestors from the Kansas City, Missouri area. I started with antique stores in that region and I am now fanning out into the perimeter areas. And so, in the process of searching, I have experienced great enjoyment in visiting antique stores. They are like museums (which I love), only you can hold and examine each item. Look at the vintage sheet music I found at <a href="http://www.afabfind.com" target="_blank">A Fabulous Find.</a> I was having so much fun, I almost got distracted from my purpose. <p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmRujQbEOaFxj_Q4FuSl_isly9c4IzzwqHkrYNtEp2D5-VyzCgRJ3w2BEHRZEoYTzT-w_HEOp3HlXxcda4AY5DMorrirBVTugxz-gzcxZaiqgsEj3E8_5_kH5IGjA6ijGgxPuGxv07lRSmjL2XjZ3AFccTdxoOjZGG6_ue-UsHuEzjufJRVnFVX0DsGA=s3870" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2502" data-original-width="3870" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmRujQbEOaFxj_Q4FuSl_isly9c4IzzwqHkrYNtEp2D5-VyzCgRJ3w2BEHRZEoYTzT-w_HEOp3HlXxcda4AY5DMorrirBVTugxz-gzcxZaiqgsEj3E8_5_kH5IGjA6ijGgxPuGxv07lRSmjL2XjZ3AFccTdxoOjZGG6_ue-UsHuEzjufJRVnFVX0DsGA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>One client asked me to find a picture of a building her ancestor worked in during the 1890's. It no longer exists, and there are no photos online or in local repositories. But postcards have plenty of unique city views.</p><p><br /></p><p>The store manager, Laura, explained that antique malls provide booths for sellers to fill. She also showed me a large area for individual consignment items. With that in mind, I went to the next shop: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ShawneeAntiqueMall/" target="_blank">Shawnee Antique Mall.</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaJ-nmaSUemQ1u4rSLUZGh1tI4vvu--fVYzBkAv7hZlXjkKsq5NtmkbcxLEWj1xv5FHamxpAfZlsVDZkQgop-g5Es6_MPWHRn-IgkZSw5iqqt3mEAT6v5qtr8S5m5pYF2QzUh-UOXUPv4JJZyZJ1b8qfGfYXQgrO9fRvLIVyoSGqEzfOQqfZsDADwY-w=s3999" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3999" data-original-width="2609" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaJ-nmaSUemQ1u4rSLUZGh1tI4vvu--fVYzBkAv7hZlXjkKsq5NtmkbcxLEWj1xv5FHamxpAfZlsVDZkQgop-g5Es6_MPWHRn-IgkZSw5iqqt3mEAT6v5qtr8S5m5pYF2QzUh-UOXUPv4JJZyZJ1b8qfGfYXQgrO9fRvLIVyoSGqEzfOQqfZsDADwY-w=s320" width="209" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>I met the owner, Jeff, and told him what I was looking for. He took me over to a case which held this personal family scrapbook from the 1940's. These items are often from estate sales. It made me sad to think it was lost from its descendants. There is a Facebook page (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/531012871224823/" target="_blank">the Photo Angel)</a> in which Kate and the group rescue photographs and reunite them with family. What a beautiful mission.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIqT-oaAytP8Eaq9_WMpPTgvaInprxJw53csQuO2DYmkdd8oe4oIzR8K7iUIGi6jfCU2GmkTp3hCKN6ytJ8iGBhVjN__X-mf91yN6CEeQD4Oj50lzESUc9uS4SuU3iiT5fQD1pYTMMp9YgbfXLSUyktDLVfoblvDoxljNL1aO92OVVl_Fp6E2gSuZBkg=s3278" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3278" data-original-width="2958" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIqT-oaAytP8Eaq9_WMpPTgvaInprxJw53csQuO2DYmkdd8oe4oIzR8K7iUIGi6jfCU2GmkTp3hCKN6ytJ8iGBhVjN__X-mf91yN6CEeQD4Oj50lzESUc9uS4SuU3iiT5fQD1pYTMMp9YgbfXLSUyktDLVfoblvDoxljNL1aO92OVVl_Fp6E2gSuZBkg=s320" width="289" /></a></div><br /><div>If you are looking for pictures of your ancestors, be sure to look everywhere. I have been down on the floor crawling behind antique furniture. They can be in baskets or hanging on obscure walls.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOzX7Pou2H0nyIrlDV-ooxo0DXMeUg_BBXNxMPcwMNqoc9wei7S9Qn2AEbhTBwwIHsILyquZp0PaE1qJnQ0-mnsDPs6tUOtN4NBgyO0M1qX6BW5yoQSjkLNs8J3BFiWog8Xke4w8C33dx-1G93zEWaIj9w9hlkwRAeocF4VlxTDDgycfeD0jN6IKjeLQ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOzX7Pou2H0nyIrlDV-ooxo0DXMeUg_BBXNxMPcwMNqoc9wei7S9Qn2AEbhTBwwIHsILyquZp0PaE1qJnQ0-mnsDPs6tUOtN4NBgyO0M1qX6BW5yoQSjkLNs8J3BFiWog8Xke4w8C33dx-1G93zEWaIj9w9hlkwRAeocF4VlxTDDgycfeD0jN6IKjeLQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p>Jeff's store went on for ever. There were many rooms holding multiple booths each. These malls are impressively clean -- no dust or clutter. They are organized and attractive. That makes it much easier to find what you are looking for.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9ry-Vsjw-XC_tW518cZlw3ESAmR2aCUav0sWZyVnWF3JTChZ3JVjzKHzec9csgqXsNvsK_SSKKOEt6JgRxTSNY7M8Nnin-17J4jV5yY-LWsR3zqYXEFiTxM9NeNsM4GqcpNdIROIt5eu3M4I8lnA1Cns3IhnvbgaMIxh5SvmJ2ZndTp-rcd8rpaICCQ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9ry-Vsjw-XC_tW518cZlw3ESAmR2aCUav0sWZyVnWF3JTChZ3JVjzKHzec9csgqXsNvsK_SSKKOEt6JgRxTSNY7M8Nnin-17J4jV5yY-LWsR3zqYXEFiTxM9NeNsM4GqcpNdIROIt5eu3M4I8lnA1Cns3IhnvbgaMIxh5SvmJ2ZndTp-rcd8rpaICCQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p>Be on the lookout for old magazines and newspapers. Remember -- only about 10% of all information has been scanned, digitized, and provided online. The rest is in places like these. Can you imagine how exciting it would be to come upon something from your great grandparents in an antique store! Someone's relative belonged to this High School diploma from 1926:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSAObgJMtSI18KVyBt4ybDbG0fkkUAmfm5yjPdKphLtCH0LRZe5dDbxoDd7JdOA1inb8LubgmSYLKbZK_UvF1c8IjJCtYdZkajZVj56w0agjhWe9XFpmrRmaF1a_7FDXpqHzX8QugkU7lCEx0PNOK8UpUmoYBJ13km6H9L6L3vYpY10AAaf8h1qy2fvA=s3572" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2797" data-original-width="3572" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSAObgJMtSI18KVyBt4ybDbG0fkkUAmfm5yjPdKphLtCH0LRZe5dDbxoDd7JdOA1inb8LubgmSYLKbZK_UvF1c8IjJCtYdZkajZVj56w0agjhWe9XFpmrRmaF1a_7FDXpqHzX8QugkU7lCEx0PNOK8UpUmoYBJ13km6H9L6L3vYpY10AAaf8h1qy2fvA=s320" width="320" /></a></div>And please - if you do find something, please share it with the world by uploading it to <a href="https://www.familysearch.org/en/" target="_blank">FamilySearch.org </a>and <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a>.<br /><p>I am glad I have come to appreciate the riches of history and genealogy that antique stores hold for us. If I were a history teacher/professor, I would encourage my students to visit them often when writing their assignments. They are truly museums of the past. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-10249527750260386152022-01-12T11:39:00.003-08:002022-02-06T13:36:28.575-08:00Making peace with a cemetery.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhiJGcx9G88CcqZr61we-VsVGuRsx1MSjAoiqRAO4QBFU0u0NIm6_5x7n4ZIJz5NkFTMTl-IuCtQcoDQle26mM-B0e0ZDHZ5hFJOeSQTzlKuZImHHbKrmUEV_8ZJ5wwJD5XUYCyydD5_NUVhpJPpIP2mjFyEFxMj607v1UMgIGSRJD0eoUcOvga-mgdw=s4030" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4030" data-original-width="2786" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhiJGcx9G88CcqZr61we-VsVGuRsx1MSjAoiqRAO4QBFU0u0NIm6_5x7n4ZIJz5NkFTMTl-IuCtQcoDQle26mM-B0e0ZDHZ5hFJOeSQTzlKuZImHHbKrmUEV_8ZJ5wwJD5XUYCyydD5_NUVhpJPpIP2mjFyEFxMj607v1UMgIGSRJD0eoUcOvga-mgdw=s320" width="221" /></a></div><br /> When I am researching for my clients, I often need to go to cemeteries as the last piece of the puzzle in finding their ancestors. This can be the most difficult part of the process. Of course, I start with <a href="http://Findagrave.com">Findagrave.com</a> or <a href="http://Billiongraves.com">Billiongraves.com</a>. But many graves are still not documented online. I am thankful when the cemetery has an onsite caretaker office or church attached to it. Otherwise, I need to track down who is in charge of the records. It could be the county or state, but it could also be a committee of citizens. I am currently trying to find the grave of a woman for a client, in which the old historic cemetery now lies on the private land of a farmer. So, I will need to receive his permission to search the crumbling headstones on his property - most of which are overrun by entangling weeds and bushes.<p></p><div><br /></div><div>So, in order to become more comfortable with cemeteries, I enlisted the help of a local friend, Steve Grinter, who sits on the Cemetery Association of the <a href="https://www.findagrave.com/cemetery/1972105/stony-point-cemetery" target="_blank">Stony Point Cemetery</a> in Kansas City, Kansas. Many of his relatives are buried there. In this first picture, Steve is holding the old ledger book handed down to him from previous overseers. It is an index of all the graves, including those without headstones. He showed me the process of how someone would locate their ancestor here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDzMOG9W_PLzns2CTuvGG1VnzgJ7zKIVPKvw1B8YlYgdIjZPfEgfrHXUwC-6RDenlsPvGPYsbHzkvgaOmqokMBega9qCukejSKd-IQQFBfOQo8ap-QuCtUf3z7kMhj5WYVZduNDHGzSuzHHMi-8ub1pzgu6DDDFCjUa3ygF1VF14GM4BGPFvynt8iNMw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDzMOG9W_PLzns2CTuvGG1VnzgJ7zKIVPKvw1B8YlYgdIjZPfEgfrHXUwC-6RDenlsPvGPYsbHzkvgaOmqokMBega9qCukejSKd-IQQFBfOQo8ap-QuCtUf3z7kMhj5WYVZduNDHGzSuzHHMi-8ub1pzgu6DDDFCjUa3ygF1VF14GM4BGPFvynt8iNMw=s320" width="320" /></a></div>After checking the little ledger book, he then looks at the plot map. With this he can find where in the cemetery the grave is located. This is huge, as I have walked around for hours in cemeteries that did not have a plot map available.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMgg-MaGRo0nD7iQKlp1Z-Wz8HagHah30aN78xifSOxjXQzy3T1R5tcMe1k8_JOciRMzync7lIn5w_fAw9z9HaZV-A69yikb-fdLxGpR0kdxrznKAKPbNnXpI6aYNS2tWi5T-RUfe3pi_Nwh2bCTNnK7ykW6X8XnTB-Ox5Qqr5YLiw0AoJ3G6P5tdV2Q=s3711" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2822" data-original-width="3711" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMgg-MaGRo0nD7iQKlp1Z-Wz8HagHah30aN78xifSOxjXQzy3T1R5tcMe1k8_JOciRMzync7lIn5w_fAw9z9HaZV-A69yikb-fdLxGpR0kdxrznKAKPbNnXpI6aYNS2tWi5T-RUfe3pi_Nwh2bCTNnK7ykW6X8XnTB-Ox5Qqr5YLiw0AoJ3G6P5tdV2Q=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Finally, Steve has 2 index boxes which include information on each individual: birthdate, death date, and oftentimes obituaries stapled to the back. If you find any of these types of gems when researching your family, please share them with the world on<a href="https://www.ancestry.com" target="_blank"> Ancestry.com</a> and/or <a href="http://FamilySearch.org">FamilySearch.org</a>.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9ZoHVFqVclslkD0x-V28y6WSC24X1VWhoNcxL6YZ5r0pOL8OPWO5-ZeZYXp695HxmJVf-JM9GsjOiS8_cg4MAVQahGzqLChJGV0unzK-mppTFHnx2jnbjwH3HJ1ey4A6-O86ZIoMiNtlOMSnD2uZs49xRsS1Mu6ninJkrCzX8NDRau_f_n1_iPA7ttQ=s3734" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2803" data-original-width="3734" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9ZoHVFqVclslkD0x-V28y6WSC24X1VWhoNcxL6YZ5r0pOL8OPWO5-ZeZYXp695HxmJVf-JM9GsjOiS8_cg4MAVQahGzqLChJGV0unzK-mppTFHnx2jnbjwH3HJ1ey4A6-O86ZIoMiNtlOMSnD2uZs49xRsS1Mu6ninJkrCzX8NDRau_f_n1_iPA7ttQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div>These three items (the ledger, index boxes, and plot map) have duplicates that are kept with the Chairman of the Cemetery Association. These types of people are crucial to family researchers and we owe them a huge debt of gratitude for their work invested in protecting our personal history.<div><br /></div><div>Finding graves can be excruciatingly difficult, for many reasons. Once, I was in an historic cemetery trying to find a headstone. It was shortly after a significant rain. As I walked down one aisle, I stepped onto a 100-year old grave, and it suddenly gave way -- and I began falling into it. Like quicksand, the ground collapsed around me, burying me up to the waist. With all my might, I pushed up myself up and out with super-human adrenaline strength. I stood shaking intensely. It felt like I had been in a horror movie. Suddenly the caretaker walked over to me and said, "you screamed really loud". I told him I didn't realize I screamed.... but it made sense. He went on to tell me he has fallen into several graves, including once landing on the skeleton, as the coffin had disintegrated. I beseeched him to stop talking as I knew I was already going to have nightmares. He smiled and offered to show me the famous people in their historic cemetery, which cheered me instantly. But lesson learned: be careful of walking on old graves during rainy season, and especially when the ground feels spongy.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, as you can see - cemeteries and I have challenges together. But I am coming to make peace with them, especially when I have the glad help of those who are their knowledgable overseers.</div><div><br /></div><div>My final story is about another method of finding a grave. I went to the caretaker's office of one of the oldest cemeteries in town. He showed me the ledger of where the person's grave was and walked me out to the site. </div><div>He stopped and said, "Oh I am sorry Cami. She isn't here". </div><div><br /></div><div> I replied, "She has to be here, John - the ledger says she is".</div><div><br /></div><div>To which he responded, "But Cami, you can see she is not here".</div><div><br /></div><div>I surveyed the graves around the area, and noticed the empty spaces. I dropped to my knees and started digging with my hands. In shock, John said....."what are you doing??" </div><div><br /></div><div>I told him I surmised her headstone must have sunk over the past 100 years and been covered over by soil. Suddenly my fingers touched it! I froze and looked up at John with with pure exhilaration. This wonderful 70 year old gentleman dropped to his knees, began digging, and together we uncovered the headstone. He sat back and said - in the 50 years he had been a part of the cemetery association, he had never seen anything like that. I hope they later enlisted volunteers to unearth other headstones. But I learned to always bring soft gloves with me (never a spade - as it could damage the soft stone).</div><div><br /></div><div>If you have other cemetery tips, please pass them along! I want to become comfortable in knowing how to research in these amazing places where our ancestors reside.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-28688184163287608332021-12-30T15:27:00.004-08:002022-01-16T12:06:33.517-08:00One last bit of Christmas before the year ends -- in St. Charles, Missouri<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiT7XGAFBHofYxgf5onJiEA8GogwHjlg7Xat2Ol2m7iPIGtMqj98vUDOGRMa-ZBk15E_EY2xv3N0yD-W6ZHjeU5DBat3ISXMzIM6-yk6SVJ-J_oNTEBZzx1cmlmc_T1kHgUNi06HJHRVAEEJW3fp3gb5kEv_7IprVDQ0UGFaSVExyZXCbcp94SyXmXQ6A=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiT7XGAFBHofYxgf5onJiEA8GogwHjlg7Xat2Ol2m7iPIGtMqj98vUDOGRMa-ZBk15E_EY2xv3N0yD-W6ZHjeU5DBat3ISXMzIM6-yk6SVJ-J_oNTEBZzx1cmlmc_T1kHgUNi06HJHRVAEEJW3fp3gb5kEv_7IprVDQ0UGFaSVExyZXCbcp94SyXmXQ6A=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>I heard that St. Charles was charming at the holidays, so I decided to go experience a quaint, old-fashioned Christmas there. But I did not suspect what I would actually find. "Charming" is an apt descriptor, but woefully insufficient. I was astonished to discover a Charles Dickens' scene. A live and real Victorian land, in every sense.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKKZgpkBGgBM9NmZZZNzNckU51aeeAaMJCIieEiDGZofFU2T3XXbxpacoQoAFD6GirZRkIoQRAWXTU9_IcPn5SWMA64NjqSdVHURfcA76C_FiWzfi0oZRQZMaFPAP51pkJxUOU1RFJd_fc0XthZ5cQkyFKQRKprk-XTgRhwO6Whn6rjwW5_zNlmg-8fg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKKZgpkBGgBM9NmZZZNzNckU51aeeAaMJCIieEiDGZofFU2T3XXbxpacoQoAFD6GirZRkIoQRAWXTU9_IcPn5SWMA64NjqSdVHURfcA76C_FiWzfi0oZRQZMaFPAP51pkJxUOU1RFJd_fc0XthZ5cQkyFKQRKprk-XTgRhwO6Whn6rjwW5_zNlmg-8fg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVv1408ZjpI7BFLncgTsSi3axmN4bGiVjijJfjI1KvueBTyBbPXxF-WTDmGAJJw8KFSPaSXb60lJ1HulfOMitHMhppzxJJ0GjcEH15hDRBc99xU0ENonWC7PAsmp6vEoHTxPnlfy4SZjKYsmNQ3yd9Bz44KCilbJO1ObNdeKxoZPci-jMVBUQ8UY1Taw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVv1408ZjpI7BFLncgTsSi3axmN4bGiVjijJfjI1KvueBTyBbPXxF-WTDmGAJJw8KFSPaSXb60lJ1HulfOMitHMhppzxJJ0GjcEH15hDRBc99xU0ENonWC7PAsmp6vEoHTxPnlfy4SZjKYsmNQ3yd9Bz44KCilbJO1ObNdeKxoZPci-jMVBUQ8UY1Taw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>The houses and shops are earnestly preserved from the 1800's. Each is a delight to enter and explore, as they were individually crafted during that glorious architectural era. The cobblestone street is the centerpiece, with the buildings lining its edges. The decorations were of that age: pinery festoons, warm white lights and red bows. There were no multi-color LED strands. It felt classical graceful.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixpvAbM5Kp_L6FIcnxZ2_7jlpKbYIRI18q-7LXLfBOjVou70c0z1eOr5T1f8f_U2Ffhd0EVSCV3C5dS-h_07KtIxPxbT4LzE4AFqWDm24XC8KkpKhXGiQnv2UGwSJ0_A-etqfMpZa2qzSYj-YjCdaatMOmMmf5yOVdJcfZFyV4liTvP7zCDJ6nqv9JVA=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixpvAbM5Kp_L6FIcnxZ2_7jlpKbYIRI18q-7LXLfBOjVou70c0z1eOr5T1f8f_U2Ffhd0EVSCV3C5dS-h_07KtIxPxbT4LzE4AFqWDm24XC8KkpKhXGiQnv2UGwSJ0_A-etqfMpZa2qzSYj-YjCdaatMOmMmf5yOVdJcfZFyV4liTvP7zCDJ6nqv9JVA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>There were surprises awaiting each traveler. They were prepared for us by the warmly welcoming people of this town. I heard music down the road and followed the lyrical notes to discover Mr. Scrooge, Tiny Tim and Mr. Cratchit had joined carolers, harmonizing their voices into melodic purity. It was enthralling.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWJ5z7YUjWtEjs8xSqD6QgAhq49IXXwruvej8DPUE003pjTO-hhANYRsHu4oRefSxvND-m01tvdzJmz77QRB0JNp1LgLZiQJPbzcSxhP_78sa7-AcYdn215brN9t3277hyCD-vdhlCdqhrI9J_ZapoCrn6ECo7DAbdoh_Xv473PF2dZ7X4jY7jx0geAA=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWJ5z7YUjWtEjs8xSqD6QgAhq49IXXwruvej8DPUE003pjTO-hhANYRsHu4oRefSxvND-m01tvdzJmz77QRB0JNp1LgLZiQJPbzcSxhP_78sa7-AcYdn215brN9t3277hyCD-vdhlCdqhrI9J_ZapoCrn6ECo7DAbdoh_Xv473PF2dZ7X4jY7jx0geAA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Dear Jacob Marley, however, did not join the choristers.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih8HccPiOj3jctbANOzy3pYMbkyfO75tduuf-i41-2E-eobzPl4iOzkwGW2_ZGbkeImRojAe0VklWdrlVjoXSzhEtgV0zGuwLv1DFwdQNxCM23Wj8EXxklwhyuyb00zFnWs7YpUzY7vK_LfdQIFTTphdXWFMMCoJd_YT-iyQg4gXvW-7f_gAUST81_IA=s3002" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2696" data-original-width="3002" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih8HccPiOj3jctbANOzy3pYMbkyfO75tduuf-i41-2E-eobzPl4iOzkwGW2_ZGbkeImRojAe0VklWdrlVjoXSzhEtgV0zGuwLv1DFwdQNxCM23Wj8EXxklwhyuyb00zFnWs7YpUzY7vK_LfdQIFTTphdXWFMMCoJd_YT-iyQg4gXvW-7f_gAUST81_IA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Across the road, I happened upon the infamous World War I soldiers, who came out of their trenches on Christmas Day 1914 to sing and to play futbol together. These lads sang their songs for us. Their hearty voices carried the remembrance of that day into our hearts. We stood silently imagining the profound moment in time, when enemies laid down their weapons to experience a day of true peace on earth, goodwill toward men.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAt2oD6xWRpISYyQD6LL_7uAFbgG-TASwSW5PX5RovSMb3fOOQufp4z3S4lcfAP3pa5cGAzZBpCs6MPx1Yr138zesIZbv3ex-WzL_SoprQ7Z6SsIelf-9lgHNfBdVcgezASzYKt8Pyi2LVa7Oy-uanjFqf3UR0asrYT_TaZ68HirnYNM5L2eKkj7c0dg=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAt2oD6xWRpISYyQD6LL_7uAFbgG-TASwSW5PX5RovSMb3fOOQufp4z3S4lcfAP3pa5cGAzZBpCs6MPx1Yr138zesIZbv3ex-WzL_SoprQ7Z6SsIelf-9lgHNfBdVcgezASzYKt8Pyi2LVa7Oy-uanjFqf3UR0asrYT_TaZ68HirnYNM5L2eKkj7c0dg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>At night, the town takes on its most enchanting feel. The soft lights glimmer gently. I strolled up and down the sidewalks, multiple times. I couldn't get enough. I didn't want to leave.......</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijAlpWSvO1trdMOD3f4-EE5Lz4BBe6zg7stlp4LTDnjige3t3Vyri33yY8Dgo4irwmEy5GIIxdzlOWKX96yyWeJLwgBERIBo43sbNt1tmfDHK__DcwygDKoXmaL2XRIXKkydOrV6KU0RYAwQLDRRU2z9M9-9UQMP4Ql-1pSblSG3DUub1kS2Ho26kTtA=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijAlpWSvO1trdMOD3f4-EE5Lz4BBe6zg7stlp4LTDnjige3t3Vyri33yY8Dgo4irwmEy5GIIxdzlOWKX96yyWeJLwgBERIBo43sbNt1tmfDHK__DcwygDKoXmaL2XRIXKkydOrV6KU0RYAwQLDRRU2z9M9-9UQMP4Ql-1pSblSG3DUub1kS2Ho26kTtA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But after only a couple of days, I packed up to leave my sweet hotel at the end of the cobblestone street. The <a href="https://www.radissonhotelsamericas.com/en-us/hotels/country-inn-saint-charles-mo" target="_blank">Country Inn and Suites </a>was the ideal location for me to walk everywhere without driving. It was built beside the river -- my favorite body of water. I met Marjorie who works at the front desk. I hope you get to meet her too someday. She made my stay extra special because of her kindliness. Marjorie exemplifies the very spirit of this town: graciously welcoming. As are the folks at <a href="https://www.magpiesonmain.com" target="_blank">Magpie's Cafe</a>. I so enjoyed their lovely outdoor patio that sat along the cobblestone road. Every bite was a treat. I will be back next Christmas, and I will be looking forward to returning all year long. Until then, St. Charles.....</div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-54945647323298206982021-12-19T13:11:00.003-08:002022-01-02T11:27:02.258-08:00Big Christmas in Wichita, Kansas<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7cTTUo_EU-5bY_2PEAj8qQl7ezojrdOcdyjXa9d10hcuk14JeSC3oMP3_Ywb-PMU4glPimMGmOwsytMc_FRUbxdWNWiY3W9VEHCPwtq5NRQWDfAPnU-F5SEgZKfohWyGL19XXfsU_J2Vd_prnGVA4WdS_SSkykhpaS74nW0ZiNJNMXp76a4iSbZKVnw=s3088" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7cTTUo_EU-5bY_2PEAj8qQl7ezojrdOcdyjXa9d10hcuk14JeSC3oMP3_Ywb-PMU4glPimMGmOwsytMc_FRUbxdWNWiY3W9VEHCPwtq5NRQWDfAPnU-F5SEgZKfohWyGL19XXfsU_J2Vd_prnGVA4WdS_SSkykhpaS74nW0ZiNJNMXp76a4iSbZKVnw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I have a friend here who is a native of Kansas. She told me I had to see the <a href="https://botanica.org" target="_blank">Botanical Gardens in Wichita</a> at Christmastime. Charlotte used to live there, so she knows the town well, and was a great tour guide for my first visit to Wichita. True to her description, the Illuminations display is far beyond anything I have ever seen. It was an extra chilly night, which made it feel even more like a wintry wonderland. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHu9Ym_686NOS9X8f08AVZgN_vZSZ1QhqpXyf75tiHJAocVXomK47Qt62zvwk22LqX3YdDDJlB5M327jFTdXcyXQVEIfqtxBKZv9wFS2JbzCC05xqZfI_ljRj4LrvhmvmnXr-lnN6C6Wj-IuztY0Oa3yZ2EhrCszdLPj3fuMgv2rBM65do_JttkO09Bg=s3000" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1865" data-original-width="3000" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHu9Ym_686NOS9X8f08AVZgN_vZSZ1QhqpXyf75tiHJAocVXomK47Qt62zvwk22LqX3YdDDJlB5M327jFTdXcyXQVEIfqtxBKZv9wFS2JbzCC05xqZfI_ljRj4LrvhmvmnXr-lnN6C6Wj-IuztY0Oa3yZ2EhrCszdLPj3fuMgv2rBM65do_JttkO09Bg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It seemed like the path went on for miles, with lights decorating every possible space, including the grass. I especially liked these cotton candy trees. It looks like a setting out of a Dr. Seuss story.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTGjtrY0TD2QUYfyzDJjFLjyIh06I0wI2bJVY7wD4Rlkj9txNglVYkURi7DBLGJxhDqXtb4xWyGglKwPlbxP3q_yS9b_4a8UDJrc7aKr7VMnMcCjzQ_k2tdygfDVTtFypaCZqvYfK8XK9yuFc4Tq3LVQ0gbFXlSP1tj1vqnGz-JmVMszhg1NalnxVIuw=s4010" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2472" data-original-width="4010" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTGjtrY0TD2QUYfyzDJjFLjyIh06I0wI2bJVY7wD4Rlkj9txNglVYkURi7DBLGJxhDqXtb4xWyGglKwPlbxP3q_yS9b_4a8UDJrc7aKr7VMnMcCjzQ_k2tdygfDVTtFypaCZqvYfK8XK9yuFc4Tq3LVQ0gbFXlSP1tj1vqnGz-JmVMszhg1NalnxVIuw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>This tree is clever and super funky. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't imagine the intensive designing process, followed by the work of stringing so many unending lights throughout the park. What a great sense of accomplishment those involved must experience, especially when they see the thrilling effect it has on the guests. It was surely one of the highlights of my Christmas season. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Not too far away is the <a href="https://www.druryhotels.com/locations/wichita-ks/drury-plaza-hotel-broadview-wichita" target="_blank">Broadview Hotel</a>, which celebrates its century birthday next year. Of course, that launched me into the excitement of discovering history. So, I began asking the manager and her young assistant about the hotel's past. They took us into the grand ballroom, where they pulled back curtains on the wall to display these tiled works of art. My breath caught. Stepping in close, I visualized the effort involved in setting those tiny tiles perfectly into the picture being created. And doing it on the entire wall that perimeters the room. I silently applauded the craftsmen from 100 years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPcoKsKSLdu_anAsCcXqal3ZiODDdAVr1qSDKYndNLGU5ATLzSfKnQOxJwBiqHwulFfL2irAeXa782VysNhtxieZiCY12nBt7P0Pk9eKlmVD8mzzktrsC97lkjjg0l5uH-tEz8Res95woYcHoaj8qPaTW56iC-xYLtocNmkSWVHXGBkYV8G3mxivMjUw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPcoKsKSLdu_anAsCcXqal3ZiODDdAVr1qSDKYndNLGU5ATLzSfKnQOxJwBiqHwulFfL2irAeXa782VysNhtxieZiCY12nBt7P0Pk9eKlmVD8mzzktrsC97lkjjg0l5uH-tEz8Res95woYcHoaj8qPaTW56iC-xYLtocNmkSWVHXGBkYV8G3mxivMjUw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimfzs2wz_Lu4_rPO2DU8LUVVhnQa-sNjVMx2r51hY_KYhXVmsvYBgErd5drmt9VN1hxGNVMHr9B1PwllE9He83aKUha4GemAvmKblri7cbZR0DkCONIvQQnHQihr-AvoI53VyhytkUQwLRKKT5CMEpeGMUtsAvHX4VObhIyuOHGpvY6K-8iEV4lCRW3A=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimfzs2wz_Lu4_rPO2DU8LUVVhnQa-sNjVMx2r51hY_KYhXVmsvYBgErd5drmt9VN1hxGNVMHr9B1PwllE9He83aKUha4GemAvmKblri7cbZR0DkCONIvQQnHQihr-AvoI53VyhytkUQwLRKKT5CMEpeGMUtsAvHX4VObhIyuOHGpvY6K-8iEV4lCRW3A=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I was glad to hear the designer's direct descendants came to view his magnificent creation. He was the renowned American Indian artist, Blackbear Bosin. At 1500 square feet, it is the largest continuous mural in the state. It is titled "The Advance of Civilization in Kansas". I hope everyone who passes through Wichita will stop to see this glorious masterpiece. The hotel (now a Drury) sits along a beautiful river walk. I will plan to make this trip a new annual Christmas tradition!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwOZQ8_GAxNwuLeF8wdONQrzVqL6miByCk0VwD4r3wnRhjB381FfLoXwUmST3cs2d5fUgjj1Jk6BvlsAVD0xdT74Z1Ezv3twwjFBbSUOqe0-RZVyPlf9hTEHh7bNDuCnTcIfcS3y-2xL2DzZCOBxVJjCd7wNgqckQKzU5tpfBryilUpizjMYZvpWIjNw=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwOZQ8_GAxNwuLeF8wdONQrzVqL6miByCk0VwD4r3wnRhjB381FfLoXwUmST3cs2d5fUgjj1Jk6BvlsAVD0xdT74Z1Ezv3twwjFBbSUOqe0-RZVyPlf9hTEHh7bNDuCnTcIfcS3y-2xL2DzZCOBxVJjCd7wNgqckQKzU5tpfBryilUpizjMYZvpWIjNw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I wanted to peruse boutiques, so Charlotte directed me to <a href="https://bungalow26.com" target="_blank">Bungalow 26</a>. Oh my word -- what a whimsically delightful place! It's theme is eclectic, and also has the feel of Sedona, New Mexico. I so appreciate shops that sell items that are different than what is normally found in all other stores. I like giving uncustomary gifts rather than typical ones. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9kq8ejRub9_lI_-U34pQtRcfDL711sRbPY1tJ7OsHSu9uRdxZyHmARaYZFyB2XbNPiHJifLhFa1qV0Cf8kX-vQfX-VHu0BJwt3hdNTyCGGVCXLk7fo4kdm5sDwtpWfpPpZbv8hKFzvQayqSrZs9dLfoiOl2RRVO82ZNbonldqT6RvyCRmDbi1svpN1A=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9kq8ejRub9_lI_-U34pQtRcfDL711sRbPY1tJ7OsHSu9uRdxZyHmARaYZFyB2XbNPiHJifLhFa1qV0Cf8kX-vQfX-VHu0BJwt3hdNTyCGGVCXLk7fo4kdm5sDwtpWfpPpZbv8hKFzvQayqSrZs9dLfoiOl2RRVO82ZNbonldqT6RvyCRmDbi1svpN1A=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Whenever I travel, I always have to stop at the local <a href="https://www.wichitahistory.org" target="_blank">historical society/museum</a>. Look at this beauty! We were there on a Monday, when it was closed; but that's okay -- it gives me an anticipatory reason to return. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I was so thankful Charlotte encouraged me to go to Wichita, and offered to show me its highlights. I fell in love with this town, rich with treasures. I sense there is far more for me to explore. And that makes me happy. </div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-74054401493674195742021-11-28T15:20:00.008-08:002022-01-02T11:37:58.495-08:00Branson Missouri's terrifying history<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCNq466wYagQZM7EK9JFlHLDntBTHb757JkgjOZbw6EUt2yAxM7gjsWS8lVaduTu0SW81SjLpA3qjuOoYdVnCdnbm5mFDot6vCv06AjqmxpcAGyJFzc5nIttC3WSF2jI408jCJAhsUkRF4DhUUkud79DF8GJPShZ5St6m-gycUlYKxOyu8Lqog0951Yg=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1539" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCNq466wYagQZM7EK9JFlHLDntBTHb757JkgjOZbw6EUt2yAxM7gjsWS8lVaduTu0SW81SjLpA3qjuOoYdVnCdnbm5mFDot6vCv06AjqmxpcAGyJFzc5nIttC3WSF2jI408jCJAhsUkRF4DhUUkud79DF8GJPShZ5St6m-gycUlYKxOyu8Lqog0951Yg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div>I was excited about my annual Fall trip to Branson. I look forward to the gorgeous hikes along the river, and around the lake. I have my favorite spots to visit, which I will detail in this blog. And I enjoy viewing the Christmas lights around town in the evenings. The shows are fun, always honoring God and Country. Branson is considered the Bible-belt Las Vegas. Little did I know what horrors I would discover on this trip.....</div><div><br /></div><div>My tradition when I pull into town is to drive straight to the Landing, an outdoor mall, and eat lunch at <a href="https://www.whiteriverfishhouse.com" target="_blank">White River Fish House</a>, which extends over the water. It is next door to and owned by Bass Pro. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFJ7WA2bKSF6HcMSwdKS6SNgILg76JGEAiDnRqfWuNmfvIKHj17XXk9JbJ1fJJpZO8GdP_ID8H5kxPGz3DUP58BMdbtdp6jFbEX30Yjpznsu6Y6CrCm5RLORAiAXbg_y4eK2zw_pzHr3rX5X3-42o8CNjzpUJ6yQkKm5eqRbMYYsnZfyG4RcUGns6gAA=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFJ7WA2bKSF6HcMSwdKS6SNgILg76JGEAiDnRqfWuNmfvIKHj17XXk9JbJ1fJJpZO8GdP_ID8H5kxPGz3DUP58BMdbtdp6jFbEX30Yjpznsu6Y6CrCm5RLORAiAXbg_y4eK2zw_pzHr3rX5X3-42o8CNjzpUJ6yQkKm5eqRbMYYsnZfyG4RcUGns6gAA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I got the Cobb salad with a sangria. But what draws me here is the cast-iron skillet of jalepaneo corn bread with honey butter. It is extra moist, and rich in flavor. I sank into the cushy chair, enjoyed every bite and sip, and was lulled by the view on the water.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A few years ago, I found a hotel that sits out of town, on a hill, with a deck of rocking chairs overlooking the woods. The <a href="https://savannahhousebranson.com" target="_blank">Savannah House</a> is absolutely darling. They provide a large breakfast and fresh-made dessert at night. After checking in, I went to the Old Town area, and visited the <a href="http://wrvhs.org/locations/bcm/" target="_blank">Branson Centennial Musuem</a>. Jim, the curator, welcomed me, and showed me the wonderful displays of the town's history, mainly focusing on the entertainers who have performed here over the decades. Jim and his wife, Jean, have procured an enormous collection for the museum of all books written about Branson. They also sell some excellent ones in their bookstore:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7yML36TTrVA3fvL09c9CBdo4oTkLfCaRkUYKBE3OqlzZCwX56gFZSemG8QJ_zt6sKYHGeYuyD4nm1qb0l0Zh5SdrW9fnuqxcLzX7NFqjPsi_VNBONCJtbCvQesDwOOFlMarlBUqYLFLCYVdFx8b0hmePNOFr13nR99pdhXRuUIcfFnP7foW8O61_Wow=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7yML36TTrVA3fvL09c9CBdo4oTkLfCaRkUYKBE3OqlzZCwX56gFZSemG8QJ_zt6sKYHGeYuyD4nm1qb0l0Zh5SdrW9fnuqxcLzX7NFqjPsi_VNBONCJtbCvQesDwOOFlMarlBUqYLFLCYVdFx8b0hmePNOFr13nR99pdhXRuUIcfFnP7foW8O61_Wow=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Jim told me that The Shepherd of the Hills was the country's first best seller. That is a huge distinction. I have not read it yet, but I know that many school children in generations before me read it as part of their curriculum. It must be fascinating.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jim told me that the archives are housed in the county seat of Forsyth, just 30 minutes away. So away I went. The drive was relaxing and visually enjoyable. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>As I entered the <a href="http://wrvhs.org" target="_blank">White River Valley Historical Society</a>, the first thing I noticed was a woman working on an intriguing project.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh04Ncyew8QnEBv34NE2PcgNBV9UkUqh9OxGGkwI1A9ssmg7E-XHrXbx2vvA1uaVKKuE-3rwyTbwHR7cwrMGWPif9yW3D7bcYh_sk_QSlmuUvb2uWPuuRMe_FmrgeFzSjc4pCw4qw4jEO6R1al7evMCK60YA9J92-zsVgqUJoiUZmcW5LSdZKNlkC4gzA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh04Ncyew8QnEBv34NE2PcgNBV9UkUqh9OxGGkwI1A9ssmg7E-XHrXbx2vvA1uaVKKuE-3rwyTbwHR7cwrMGWPif9yW3D7bcYh_sk_QSlmuUvb2uWPuuRMe_FmrgeFzSjc4pCw4qw4jEO6R1al7evMCK60YA9J92-zsVgqUJoiUZmcW5LSdZKNlkC4gzA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I learned that her name is Ethel. She is a volunteer, and she handwrites every name she finds in old court records. Another woman, Doreen, explained their process to me: the names are written down, Tommy scans it, and another volunteer types it. Thus the names are indexed and searchable. Finally, the records themselves are scanned and digitized for in-house use (not online). I was stunned. I had no idea what an enormous amount of work these people do to preserve history for us. Doreen says they go to the courthouse, retrieve boxes of records, digitize them, return them for storage at the courthouse, and get more boxes. Incredible! The records go back to the 1880's. This historical society is an example of thoughtful, diligent preservation. I hope people from all over the globe will come here to utilize their archives in their research. With finding aids, the staff have made the work so much easier for all of us. Also the library down the street has a massive collection of genealogical records. This town is like Disneyland for family researchers, and historical authors and film makers! Go talk to the staff. They have plenty more unbelievable stories!</div><div><br /></div><div>The Managing Director, Trish Trimble, came and joined our conversation. She had wonderful information to share. She kept mentioning the Bald Knobbers. I recognized the name, as it is a comedic theater in town that does humorous Hillbilly shows. Well, Trish and Doreen, explained the true, horrific tale behind that name. They told me that in the 1880's this was pretty wild country and they only had one sheriff on a horse to cover the whole region. So the dignified businessmen/leaders of the town decided to deputize themselves and help the sheriff. In time, the thrill of exuding so much power enticed them to get rid of the sheriff and take over the town themselves. They started as a group of 13, but it quickly grew to over 200 men. They would meet in secret on a treeless hill (a bald knob) at night. They turned their coats inside out and wore bandanas over their faces. They became a gang of criminals, holding the townspeople in constant terror. They killed up to 100 people, stealing their goods and lands. I stood in shock, trying to imagine this. How could something like that happen? How could such good men go so horribly wrong?? Finally the governor threatened to bring in the militia if they didn't disband immediately, which they did. They were taken to court, but these disgusting vigilantes were set free -- their unconscionable crimes deprived of justice. </div><div><br /></div><div>My mind was still reeling as I left, but I felt Doreen push a paper into my hand. I set it on the car seat beside me and quickly headed back to Branson, determined to find a book about the Bald Knobbers.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxK42QWWFW6dAjAtRp4EuWAWnSMrK_YJ6O5b-ZnQGl3zfqNO9Ww3IlRh-pQICsCzDaM96kZFUqXmajz9J0GX507LROYzlmUdI85xLdXwlEwgw7Ip6lVeqOCnJ5FjObJkAjdML-P-AEqkOM64dJuCtxXKt-Zmj2a3BRDulQhoE9feIDXulxEQkuyFlLIw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxK42QWWFW6dAjAtRp4EuWAWnSMrK_YJ6O5b-ZnQGl3zfqNO9Ww3IlRh-pQICsCzDaM96kZFUqXmajz9J0GX507LROYzlmUdI85xLdXwlEwgw7Ip6lVeqOCnJ5FjObJkAjdML-P-AEqkOM64dJuCtxXKt-Zmj2a3BRDulQhoE9feIDXulxEQkuyFlLIw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>And look what I found! For just $2. For the past few decades, I have been buying my books at the <a href="http://www.taneyhillscommunitylibrary.org/thrift-shop--bookstore.html" target="_blank">Friends of the Library Bookstore</a>s. The money goes to help fund the local library. Most of these books are unavailable in Kindle format. When I travel, I always look for a Friends bookstore. Branson has the best one.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisHgg0cQXo3Wm-XTfwnm2y7KMUTcgf6pJ1Uhu8VbTbnjI_jrN6tEHQN5H7MJUR5L9T7WxJKJ9nta-HJC7ujPZd4tpiQnd8S19E39Kw_QhIBqHduv6-YDQDeg2Fq0RdWCvVecFkltgU8XgkBW-Gt7phXSX3t1vTJVClOvxrgU5iVy1LY7XGvEJsrmamGw=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisHgg0cQXo3Wm-XTfwnm2y7KMUTcgf6pJ1Uhu8VbTbnjI_jrN6tEHQN5H7MJUR5L9T7WxJKJ9nta-HJC7ujPZd4tpiQnd8S19E39Kw_QhIBqHduv6-YDQDeg2Fq0RdWCvVecFkltgU8XgkBW-Gt7phXSX3t1vTJVClOvxrgU5iVy1LY7XGvEJsrmamGw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The books here range from $1 - $4. Many are new, hardcovers. They are community-donated. It is a double win: for the library and the customer. I left with an armload of books, anxious to start the Bald Knobber Saga.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But first...... dinner. I went to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/greekgyroanddeli/" target="_blank">Dimitris's Greek restaurant. </a> The only Greek restaurant in town. I always hunt down healthy places to eat, as the Midwest has an over-abundance of fried food dining establishments. And since Mediterranean food is some of the healthiest on the planet, I was thrilled to find Dimitris. I met the owner, who is from Greece, and his recipes belonged to his mother. You can't get more authentic than that! His namesake/grandson, Dimitris, is delightfully personable. I hope you get to meet him. His big personality adds much value to the restaurant. John, who took my order, knows much about history, and made my visit even more enjoyable.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got back to my room, I looked at the paper Doreen slipped into my hand. It was a newspaper article about Alf Bolen. There is a picture of Alf's guillotined head. He was one of the worst outlaws in the region, viciously murdering 40 people. He was animalistic in his rage, butchering his victims. He was not apprehended because it was a no-man's land while the soldiers were gone to battle in the Civil War. But when the soldiers returned, they captured and killed him. His head was skewered on a pole in the center of the encampment. People came from miles to see for themselves that the monster was dead. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh my, does Branson have a very different past from its present nature of entertainment. The next time you come for a visit, look for both characteristics of Branson. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next morning, I stopped at my favorite market for a delicious dark chocolate latte. <a href="https://www.natureswonders.com" target="_blank">Nature's Wonders </a>is just around the corner from my hotel, thankfully.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBuGW_ERhABbj_yRELfsk1lHGbIRPHEjm7jqzmmuX0yalqz_dDX03CTXoADLSU85f0vqYgWw5ShsuMvSvZZa46TRHSwrh6YyYFiptPnFcFH8MBeYMX_HOeXKntKHuxZLns4u-1vWHddsbEUsnNLhu0bWA0wViilZzFLZ55ceglAkOFYpaUNzPxphHLBQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBuGW_ERhABbj_yRELfsk1lHGbIRPHEjm7jqzmmuX0yalqz_dDX03CTXoADLSU85f0vqYgWw5ShsuMvSvZZa46TRHSwrh6YyYFiptPnFcFH8MBeYMX_HOeXKntKHuxZLns4u-1vWHddsbEUsnNLhu0bWA0wViilZzFLZ55ceglAkOFYpaUNzPxphHLBQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I took a long hike along Table Rock Lake, and then stopped for lunch on my way out of town. Another form of healthy restaurant I look for when I travel is Japanese. <a href="https://mitsunekosushi.com" target="_blank">Mitsu Neko </a>has a fabulous plate of Teriyaki shrimp and vegetables, with delicate rice. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoebs6YVm76fGPAIWUoAm3nDkapU-W6FG4EWdBQYqNKMF5Id-41k7rRWE3fUT5iLiLLXsFB-5CjYhzO7jeqLNx_qvZI2UeH-C_lHtNCPtjV0jUJmJvTaCQurVpT5VnySlWQ7lrOpl2xp1iXxyMxfaWs4sZy6uiXl1WcDpmx5747XaCrFi0p46NFLUS5Q=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoebs6YVm76fGPAIWUoAm3nDkapU-W6FG4EWdBQYqNKMF5Id-41k7rRWE3fUT5iLiLLXsFB-5CjYhzO7jeqLNx_qvZI2UeH-C_lHtNCPtjV0jUJmJvTaCQurVpT5VnySlWQ7lrOpl2xp1iXxyMxfaWs4sZy6uiXl1WcDpmx5747XaCrFi0p46NFLUS5Q=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>As I drove away, happy with memories created, I was thankful that Branson is no longer a terrifying place, but rather - a town full of created and natural beauty, exceptional music, and really fine people.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-29749594171017132722021-11-13T14:45:00.009-08:002022-01-02T11:40:53.580-08:00The ground hides history.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJd4N-TfBXGOpY_dSwJdhTAljil0-blBSW1ULBrd10DqzhmouZ692-3NZWdJAJe_ahS2kt3M4NGByYW0oNjd4j4pLh4kSQto_32JYSvGb3rDepRsBp0a_IpeT5jkzyfWfqWRwiyx5m9JPQ8lEXFWdTkJAW1_2iqNnoMTTBzRV7AtqUj1O9DwHQpN484Q=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJd4N-TfBXGOpY_dSwJdhTAljil0-blBSW1ULBrd10DqzhmouZ692-3NZWdJAJe_ahS2kt3M4NGByYW0oNjd4j4pLh4kSQto_32JYSvGb3rDepRsBp0a_IpeT5jkzyfWfqWRwiyx5m9JPQ8lEXFWdTkJAW1_2iqNnoMTTBzRV7AtqUj1O9DwHQpN484Q=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div>In the country, outside of Lawrence, Kansas, is a winery. I drove out to visit it today, because I love the countryside and I love a Midwest winery. Who better to grow grapes than generational farmers? They know how to care for and enhance the land.</div><div><br /></div><div>I met the owner of <a href="https://irvinesjustbeyondparadise.com" target="_blank">Irvine's Just Beyond Paradise</a> Winery -- Ed. He grew up on a farm. It is in his blood, as they say. They purchased this historic farm land in 2017, and they have accomplished an impressive amount of planting, reaping, and building in such a short time. This is a true family business. Ed and his wife, Cindy, plan and execute their vision. Their 3 adult sons are perfect for their roles: George and Austin are in IT and run the social media platforms, while Ed Jr. is a molecular biologist and crafts the wines! My Dad and Mom started a family business 50 years ago, and we were well-synchronized in our individual responsibilities. I was so taken with this family, that we naturally launched into a robust conversation. We chatted about the history of the farm, their own ancestral history, and finally the topic that fascinates me endlessly: the history hidden beneath them.</div><div><br /></div><div>You see, whenever I drive through the Midwest and see the land of old farms, I wonder what lies under the soil. As Quantrill, Jesse James, and the Civil War passed through these regions, what could have been left behind? Or what coins may have fallen through a hole in a farmer's pocket 150 years ago? How valuable would those coins be today?! Plus back then, when banks were privately-owned, a lot of folks didn't trust the banker, and so would bury their savings in their yard. Or the ground could house a favorite tradition from a bygone era -- a time capsule!</div><div><br /></div><div>There is a Facebook group that is fascinating to follow. The members of "<a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/663844543692792/?hoisted_section_header_type=recently_seen&multi_permalinks=3682585475152002" target="_blank">Kansas History Geeks</a>" post incredible antique photos. So, if your ancestors are from Kansas, definitely join this group. But my favorite pictures and stories are from the members (like Brian Stewart) who have metal detectors and discover amazing finds in the soil of fields. They post pictures of coins, jewelry, Civil War bullets, and much more. If I owned acreage, I would have so much fun buying or renting a metal detector and scouring my property.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlSIn5Hf23ML1jLK6kpL3ID9616P0W6qXosDThwVjrwprj7mPQRHy1F4te7ZdvXegYMSoU78Evvi41zRE8xt0ORa1s4qlZ6m2jv8AG3DvmxDigLQj2GlfL0_JP6Z_y93NXNdIOf3n0z3m9vS0RMbAlO_0XKDJdJQGnSZQVvBfEMy3jHFObxyh769kWnw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlSIn5Hf23ML1jLK6kpL3ID9616P0W6qXosDThwVjrwprj7mPQRHy1F4te7ZdvXegYMSoU78Evvi41zRE8xt0ORa1s4qlZ6m2jv8AG3DvmxDigLQj2GlfL0_JP6Z_y93NXNdIOf3n0z3m9vS0RMbAlO_0XKDJdJQGnSZQVvBfEMy3jHFObxyh769kWnw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>After my rich conversation with Ed's family, I went back out into their vineyard, where they have planted 1,000 blackberry bushes, 1,000 grape vines, and several hundred fruit trees. I walked around and absorbed the serenity of the farmland. And then I ended the day in their patio area where they have constructed a stage for local bands. There is very little in life more enjoyable than sipping a succulent glass of wine in the country while listening to live music.</div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-38196168489865700062021-11-10T15:17:00.009-08:002022-02-06T13:40:00.577-08:00I have a new hero. In Boonville Missouri.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieqexx_dw3oHQXtOzcJ9ME6y0HZ4rW4ILgEkyfus1vHARHHtvYj5t0BOiZNPbZ9j_LwugbkYyNPYQjb7AC2AtZqhcILEwI6_7jBjUrqTuSpR1SOekstRpi7Wbi8vyjpp7BZF10qqOXLG_DUxOEtiApQuhRUQdtB6Auec6y7owZbc2YDDetrkwkzCq1EA=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1174" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieqexx_dw3oHQXtOzcJ9ME6y0HZ4rW4ILgEkyfus1vHARHHtvYj5t0BOiZNPbZ9j_LwugbkYyNPYQjb7AC2AtZqhcILEwI6_7jBjUrqTuSpR1SOekstRpi7Wbi8vyjpp7BZF10qqOXLG_DUxOEtiApQuhRUQdtB6Auec6y7owZbc2YDDetrkwkzCq1EA=s320" width="183" /></a></div><br /> As I entered town, I noticed this statue, which has a large, lighted platform. She is well honored. I was drawn to her instantly, as I knew she must have a tremendous story. Her name is Hannah Cole. In 1810, she was widowed at the age of 50, with nine children, in the wilds of Missouri. She joined a few scattered families in the region, and they built an elemental fortification around their few cabins. While Indigenous tribes warred around them, Hannah opened a river ferry across the Missouri River. Hannah's little fort later became the site of the first school, the first church, and the first voting place in the newly established county. I was told that many of her descendants still live in the region, and the sculptor, Harry Weber, used a composite of their faces to create hers. As I stood looking into her strong, daring face, I imagined myself in her place. Alone with 9 children, I surely would've headed back home to the civilization of the East, where she was born. What astounding bravery to stay in such a bitter land and conquer her spot on the earth. As my gaze turned downward, I felt a rush of tears as I saw her plaque.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEin9t0_z80fsDDNd4JqOZyKs-aOOA5C_zRX6rZuTmqd4nLVC-k49PWag2dlaEdEn5-zhGCvjIg3qR8eACXAEpiO_jBPlgK8eKZ6qDD4HT0rezxAx8Oy6ubRCdNrBLayWr3_v6Q5HAmCyyft1j1FNcv3K5t6Acpxg8sEgDHNd5EnBTFRnJYEoz0ZuoxtFg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1574" data-original-width="2048" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEin9t0_z80fsDDNd4JqOZyKs-aOOA5C_zRX6rZuTmqd4nLVC-k49PWag2dlaEdEn5-zhGCvjIg3qR8eACXAEpiO_jBPlgK8eKZ6qDD4HT0rezxAx8Oy6ubRCdNrBLayWr3_v6Q5HAmCyyft1j1FNcv3K5t6Acpxg8sEgDHNd5EnBTFRnJYEoz0ZuoxtFg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>She is deemed the Mother of the town. Usually the founder is a man — the Father of the town. How unusual and what a grand distinction to be esteemed as the Mother of a town. She was merely providing for herself and her children. I am sure she had no aspirations for such renown. She just did the hard work and soldiered on. Little did she know that in the future, she would have a statue venerating her life, and profoundly inspiring one woman who stood before it on this day. I guess the honor in life comes from not giving up, but facing challenges with bold determination to push through. You are my new hero, Hannah. I wish I could have known you in person. I believe we would have been fine friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi72li-uC1JIHbYIY2Ri_l3HIunJfZSExS-z6HdX0jCcsiZrPgRY3uQq85dU2BeW9bNEAxKn8EDj93Hmj9oZgFThRqo2x4k3o9lbWvIEk2jdw557siSyZZQzbY75xCsOj_IHYNwFSI0pxeb368GYTBvyltPg1kXlBL7UhjCcmjNVxrr5Sw-3L5qnyELow=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi72li-uC1JIHbYIY2Ri_l3HIunJfZSExS-z6HdX0jCcsiZrPgRY3uQq85dU2BeW9bNEAxKn8EDj93Hmj9oZgFThRqo2x4k3o9lbWvIEk2jdw557siSyZZQzbY75xCsOj_IHYNwFSI0pxeb368GYTBvyltPg1kXlBL7UhjCcmjNVxrr5Sw-3L5qnyELow=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I continued up the main street of the historic district. I peeked into the window of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jestersmoothiek/" target="_blank">Jesters</a>. It is a cool smoothie cafe. Not much is open in town on Mondays, so I thought Jesters was probably closed as well. I strolled on, but suddenly heard a gentleman call out behind me. He brought a smoothie to me. A gesture of kindness. He owns Jesters and wanted to gift me with one of his creations -- "Riddle Me This". He makes all his smoothies with the flavor purity of real fruits. No powders or syrupy concoctions. And oh my, can you tell the difference. The taste is sublime. I thanked him, and walked on enjoying every sip. I smiled, remembering a recent conversation with a friend about doing acts of kindness. It truly effects someone's day in a heartening way. It infused me with a sweet sense of happiness. It also influenced me to be cognizant of opportunities to do an act of kindness for someone else. It is a perpetual gift.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2xYwADZ0Nfmay1DUs4BDj8mfZNL3rcabXi6xFRW13Fcxes4OeViCP1nEJ8MiH7VDHo3Vpplu7UBguIak2WXu0NNULIrZSsyOKmy8akROlU42ZLbQIaNSxy_u_ArZj8_kLWfjSi3WjVCY5P8AHZ9nzukYHCTBJJQQuF_ZyBDtf_vaKvcCLYrAqjjLfyQ=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2xYwADZ0Nfmay1DUs4BDj8mfZNL3rcabXi6xFRW13Fcxes4OeViCP1nEJ8MiH7VDHo3Vpplu7UBguIak2WXu0NNULIrZSsyOKmy8akROlU42ZLbQIaNSxy_u_ArZj8_kLWfjSi3WjVCY5P8AHZ9nzukYHCTBJJQQuF_ZyBDtf_vaKvcCLYrAqjjLfyQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A few doors down, I stepped into <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sweetpeassundriesandsuch/" target="_blank">Abigail's Sweet Peas</a>. It is a darling boutique that specializes in gourmet foods, which I think is the perfect gift. I never know what people want, but a food gift is always a perfect choice. Abigail says she taste tests everything she sells so she has verified it is of the highest quality. Look at the variety of these popcorn treats!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9GgpO5ysNWMuWk7R5vCzzM53Qph8qpYtuIgwq2RvGHWKGm1RaLn5wN6NtpHv8iEq_BG1gP3vQp0CZvWwY13N5RPlaqs4Mot6R6kG2tLPOMufBYkfhiYwRYEP9cN8_tnuWKgy7oGF2OndJfTjFQpmPwdT_sc3FVEZ-9iNMByPqtauqG50qLRq4Dg5R9g=s1773" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1773" data-original-width="1773" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9GgpO5ysNWMuWk7R5vCzzM53Qph8qpYtuIgwq2RvGHWKGm1RaLn5wN6NtpHv8iEq_BG1gP3vQp0CZvWwY13N5RPlaqs4Mot6R6kG2tLPOMufBYkfhiYwRYEP9cN8_tnuWKgy7oGF2OndJfTjFQpmPwdT_sc3FVEZ-9iNMByPqtauqG50qLRq4Dg5R9g=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Up the road is this building, with a sign that says "Odd Fellows Temple". I have lived in the Midwest for six years now, and am still jolted when I encounter the Odd Fellows organization. I always imagine a group of gentlemen sitting around trying to name their club. Odd Fellows is proffered, and they all heartily agree to it. That seems odd to me. Wasn't there a more dignified option suggested? Maybe it was meant as a fun, comical name. Either way, I am sure they did enjoy their camaraderie and they accomplished many good deeds/projects in their communities.</div><div><br /></div><div>Boonville has many glorious old buildings. I enjoy standing in front of them and examining every detail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgex1XO23IdHIjMyT0aTQfZhkrYESq2ebYZnRRrR79TR_Wyg67AWuYp9m0LFv4c647Lv4d6SuEQuUVpVLaxcnw5ptMn03XZfrJYXJYXDSk6LbN7KsG-ZzodO_qXb5os7ipBOMyNhFBSHKC263diLM5cx5zs6rGcqZa4J7q3tH6CMpyBds9g8xD43t6vRQ=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1683" data-original-width="2048" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgex1XO23IdHIjMyT0aTQfZhkrYESq2ebYZnRRrR79TR_Wyg67AWuYp9m0LFv4c647Lv4d6SuEQuUVpVLaxcnw5ptMn03XZfrJYXJYXDSk6LbN7KsG-ZzodO_qXb5os7ipBOMyNhFBSHKC263diLM5cx5zs6rGcqZa4J7q3tH6CMpyBds9g8xD43t6vRQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>The Thespian Hall was built in 1855. It was a theater for an all-male dramatic group.</div><div><br /></div><div>During the Civil War, it was converted into a hospital for wounded soldiers.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now, it has once again, been restored to a home for the arts. Bravo Boonville!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdD93vzqD_3CKk_Qb9VX6NO_LEOEstx-tXZzi0kbEhRrvaL3E3KzA8poj0tPtzjZO525ThAPq0uIofGKGNRXLWwcQ-vCtZEPTLPwbM2vzQsONq4LHYIp6hCQPQBtTOlZ6rN5npTyPtiI5tRk3y-DdLA7a_0NJ4WDZiayDKBZ15uAYrYTcmoYDWs3hmfQ=s2048" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1357" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdD93vzqD_3CKk_Qb9VX6NO_LEOEstx-tXZzi0kbEhRrvaL3E3KzA8poj0tPtzjZO525ThAPq0uIofGKGNRXLWwcQ-vCtZEPTLPwbM2vzQsONq4LHYIp6hCQPQBtTOlZ6rN5npTyPtiI5tRk3y-DdLA7a_0NJ4WDZiayDKBZ15uAYrYTcmoYDWs3hmfQ=s320" width="212" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>When in town, you should probably start at the <a href="https://goboonville.com/2016/new-visitors-center-and-river-rails-trails-museum/" target="_blank">Visitor Center.</a> It has a hall-scale replica of the Lewis and Clark keelboat. The boat looks so shallow, I don't know how it didn't toss the occupants in the rough waters of the river. </div><div><br /></div><div>Katie Gibson, the tourism director here, is full of knowledge and wonderful stories! Stop and chat with her. If she has time, she will be your personal docent of their museum inside the Visitor Center.</div><div><br /></div><div>Just outside is the Katy trail, a 237-mile path, that stretches across Missouri. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIeM137yioiExGxMjkxBaEEJ5kLLA2YSnni7o6pWr3ESkRKxsSlu5H5qY7wb7w6TTVzexVVg12I7L4wD3enK6hSe5nVlH1L7Z9IOF43OJgCVrd-6xfHlACeq7Bz7o7r18NAF-SuHzWPvt1TifwfTX-rHsZ2JXyNvH0IODcXTc7SApf5qF99EDIKMVIIg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1252" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIeM137yioiExGxMjkxBaEEJ5kLLA2YSnni7o6pWr3ESkRKxsSlu5H5qY7wb7w6TTVzexVVg12I7L4wD3enK6hSe5nVlH1L7Z9IOF43OJgCVrd-6xfHlACeq7Bz7o7r18NAF-SuHzWPvt1TifwfTX-rHsZ2JXyNvH0IODcXTc7SApf5qF99EDIKMVIIg=s320" width="196" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpP-vpZMl_hIgijI1NTY2EcDj5vvgGZUEfvc5UvhzkAzxLeuanJp6XjQZM5VdcUXE970Adb2Emxz-ogLPNdrrRuHqGpjxllgXOC1r9TO3j19dKjIh5OxwnP4gQYK3SzR5VKs2svr3O3GWMo3n6-eKGk_mEOkvPA6nagMiGOEYzveQxzo8ei1ENHS3etQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpP-vpZMl_hIgijI1NTY2EcDj5vvgGZUEfvc5UvhzkAzxLeuanJp6XjQZM5VdcUXE970Adb2Emxz-ogLPNdrrRuHqGpjxllgXOC1r9TO3j19dKjIh5OxwnP4gQYK3SzR5VKs2svr3O3GWMo3n6-eKGk_mEOkvPA6nagMiGOEYzveQxzo8ei1ENHS3etQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div>Every turn holds beauty and surprises. It is wildly popular in this region for bikers and those who hike. <div><br /></div><div>I ended my day at the <a href="https://goboonville.com/2015/old-jail-and-hanging-barn/" target="_blank">Old Jail</a>. Frank James (brother of Jesse) was a resident once. Each story of the building had one large room, similar to a dungeon, with rings bolted to the walls for shackles - for murderers, and slaves waiting to be sold on the auction block on Main Street. This was gut-wrenching for me to envision.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkRx5b4TpehRWH3hw994lu80UZGFCs-RG7E_6hdNY4Gih_f-o5qC4ttrv14noKGttvUo7FFT1MiXwDArj5UXEt5i8EsVCytvL4r-sM29iWjCLqsqvIxhVMN4sc5rlT176QLiLKGKdZsNTSEEtLf8xHeVq2geOTZ7SGRdHiFz1Nwoc_BtdFVUn-N46_7g=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkRx5b4TpehRWH3hw994lu80UZGFCs-RG7E_6hdNY4Gih_f-o5qC4ttrv14noKGttvUo7FFT1MiXwDArj5UXEt5i8EsVCytvL4r-sM29iWjCLqsqvIxhVMN4sc5rlT176QLiLKGKdZsNTSEEtLf8xHeVq2geOTZ7SGRdHiFz1Nwoc_BtdFVUn-N46_7g=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Out back is the "hanging barn". I couldn't bring myself to enter it.<div><br /></div><div>Laura Wax, the Executive Director, took me upstairs to the archives of Boonville.<br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEipyML__GtAyESoXQQMwisVEi-S8N8RL37b0FakeH2IR-O070Oz63l6Lke7uaCR-BO9r-_vMfP9pcbokwpqrSpNdVC_EFEBFNWAHqtevo-jLnw6rGhXSFYGTqV3K-35k-LRMTTKDGCrM8FSCrqfNIx7B0ZIm60beb7VN7NSk2vHGxn1M2JO_BsMRiQbgQ=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEipyML__GtAyESoXQQMwisVEi-S8N8RL37b0FakeH2IR-O070Oz63l6Lke7uaCR-BO9r-_vMfP9pcbokwpqrSpNdVC_EFEBFNWAHqtevo-jLnw6rGhXSFYGTqV3K-35k-LRMTTKDGCrM8FSCrqfNIx7B0ZIm60beb7VN7NSk2vHGxn1M2JO_BsMRiQbgQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div> </div><div> Aren't these magnificent? I light up when I see historic records. There is no sensation quite like holding and opening and turning the pages of these delicate ledgers, that dust your hands and clothes with their aging disintegration. They contain long-concealed information about our ancestors.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgrC2WP730MYkRGw1wM8RQRGb_GXXwBNj6VB4NbKZnoxCZJ2QwQPvEqvo2wAYo1sUawqBd_xz3WzxFU1arPNynFDxY_w5029dP3y4zLHN3tGPy_5ZtbgwoyAaeinI3IY7xhJTBhvOfG514NYnhUwSIXI1jBFN-IY0KzRJiQvEudKk5O9vOwJANRYA1f2w=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1710" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgrC2WP730MYkRGw1wM8RQRGb_GXXwBNj6VB4NbKZnoxCZJ2QwQPvEqvo2wAYo1sUawqBd_xz3WzxFU1arPNynFDxY_w5029dP3y4zLHN3tGPy_5ZtbgwoyAaeinI3IY7xhJTBhvOfG514NYnhUwSIXI1jBFN-IY0KzRJiQvEudKk5O9vOwJANRYA1f2w=s320" width="267" /></a></div><br /><div>Go and locate these books, stored in towns and counties, and discover the stories of the lives of your family. Your ancestors are waiting for you to find them. And please share what you find with the world on <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a> and/or <a href="http://FamilySearch.org">FamilySearch.org</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-77136707471906331482021-11-02T18:06:00.007-07:002022-02-06T13:43:27.219-08:00Platte City Missouri lures me into its game<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR_mKA95wy8fzLWcOEyu_0fWceOYhGIbgC6ZZjqvxx90WPISAdNhlBsFpMsgXfBjdprhS-tELgPV2y_d5dr9iB8PCdcPxrB556vxMqRnk_V5eSL3gQXIhW6SusFY4gLvUKKYEkax6F_IMXDe-IC9PFIr6gvGA9aCiS2SThBUr0ovP5iaOZFsxVPZFhRQ=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR_mKA95wy8fzLWcOEyu_0fWceOYhGIbgC6ZZjqvxx90WPISAdNhlBsFpMsgXfBjdprhS-tELgPV2y_d5dr9iB8PCdcPxrB556vxMqRnk_V5eSL3gQXIhW6SusFY4gLvUKKYEkax6F_IMXDe-IC9PFIr6gvGA9aCiS2SThBUr0ovP5iaOZFsxVPZFhRQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /> I arrived in Platte City Missouri to spend the day blogging about my process of discovering its history. I parked right in front of the old courthouse and stood for awhile looking around. I could tell the town holds incredible stories of the past. But suddenly, a unusual sensation slowly engulfed me. I felt as if I was being coaxed by something mystifying. I began the hunt. I entered the shop across the street. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/cohensartandframing/" target="_blank">Cohen's Art and Framing</a> is in one of the glorious buildings from the 1890's. It is owned by an artist -- Linda. As we are both obvious extroverts, we immediately launched into a robust conversation. She told me the nearby building was being fully restored to its original character by a group of attorneys. I excitedly left to see if I could get a preview and chat with them. I knocked, but all was silent. I tried to peek in but the windows were whited out. I could see nothing. That odd sensation returned. I shrugged and walked down to the <a href="https://www.plattecitymo.com" target="_blank">Chamber of Commerce</a>. Stephanie McKinley invited me into her office. I explained that I write a Midwest Travel blog with a spotlight on history and genealogy. She was friendly and helpful. She pointed me right to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BenFerrelPlatteCountyMuseumMiniMansion/" target="_blank">Ben Ferrel Museum,</a> which is the home of the Historical Society! But the Museum was closed. I sighed, and headed to my usual town site of gathering local information -- the coffeeshop/cafe. I ordered their Chicken Cranberry Croissant sandwich. I relaxed and greatly enjoyed my lunch. The owner of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BeeCreekCafe/" target="_blank">Bee Creek,</a> Kim, came out into the dining area and I asked her where I could find out more about the history of Platte City. She told me to go across the street to the <a href="https://www.jblbinsurance.com" target="_blank">JBLB Insurance company</a> and talk to Kathryn. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwdhwOLHdaucelFTi8uyyzAqZJ6OC6zgBOuzUTwHb7kh8w91rwuJ3jlk0EqV_nvQbIHSHTCG0Ya44zJOP6t7lssfoa2uU8t3fJxdGq3TcT3RgK76yUsF1VyjGTr3Uvi17NfBH6hdaFP2xzY4ksAeOt015kGORnXFnMTy1W7ibVrm5HPevAyfBecrC9VQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwdhwOLHdaucelFTi8uyyzAqZJ6OC6zgBOuzUTwHb7kh8w91rwuJ3jlk0EqV_nvQbIHSHTCG0Ya44zJOP6t7lssfoa2uU8t3fJxdGq3TcT3RgK76yUsF1VyjGTr3Uvi17NfBH6hdaFP2xzY4ksAeOt015kGORnXFnMTy1W7ibVrm5HPevAyfBecrC9VQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Kathryn showed me the "<a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/782693438555521" target="_blank">Platte County Missouri Back in the Day</a>" Facebook page. If your ancestors are from this region, you should really join this page. They might post something about your grandparents! I am sure you can post genealogical/historical questions and you would receive many insightful answers from the group members.<div> </div><div>I don't enjoy internet searches. I like to hunt for histroy in person. But I kept hitting roadblocks and dead ends and contact numbers that had been disconnected. I couldn't find any repositories in this town. Where was their history housed? And then it struck me -- the reason for that odd sensation when I entered town. Platte City history was playing hide and seek with me. I could actually feel it chuckling at my failed efforts. It was toying with me. I was in a game, and I smiled with determination. I wanted to find the original records, documents and photographs. And since only about 10% of all information has been digitized and provided online, the archives are a far larger ocean to swim in. That is why I find this type of research more productive. So, I set off for the courthouse. At the top of the stairs, I met Tammy Clement and Mary Blakley, in the probate department. Score! They showed me original Wills and Probate records back to 1836. What a goldmine! You can email them, and they will help you with your request on days when they are not actively busy in court.</div><div><br /></div><div>I left and went straight over to the town newspaper -- the <a href="https://plattecountylandmark.com/category/cat-local-news/" target="_blank">Landmark</a>. They informed me that the Missouri Historical Society has scanned issues back to 1865. And the Landmark itself houses original bound newspapers back to the 1930's. Another point for Cami. I don't think History minded, as it was enjoying this game of being found, Before I left, the female staff member leaned around her desk and said to me, "I think you may find something at the Platte City Library". I knew I was still missing the motherlode -- the huge storage place of the County's archives. So, I decided to give the library a try. I was disappointed to find a small section on local history. But it did include several volumes of the Paxton's county annals. Seeing my disappointment, the librarian led me into the staff office and introduced me to Rachel Rafuse, the branch manager. Rachel knew exactly where the archives are housed! She said they are in the original Platte City High School building, which has been several businesses since. So they now refer to the repository as The Armory (as it must've been an armory at some point). It is only open through the Spring and Summer. A small collection of archives can be found at the Ben Ferrel Museum, but the majority is at the Armory. Their website is: <a href="https://pchs1882.org" target="_blank">Platte County Missouri Historical Society.</a> Rachel says to use the contact button to make requests. Their volunteers and archivists are superior. And when you do unearth records on your ancestors, please share them with the world on <a href="http://Ancestry.com">Ancestry.com</a> and/or <a href="http://FamilySearch.org">FamilySearch.org</a>. Other descendants are desperately searching for them too.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was so grateful for everyone who helped me meet the challenge of this game. I received so much advice and guidance. And that is what is needed when you are hunting down the history of your ancestors, or of a town you are writing about or making a film about. History sometimes likes to hide. It wants to engage with you. And that's what makes it fun and meaningful. I am not done with you, Platte City History. I will be back. I want to hold your 150 year old ledgers, and look through your ancient folders and files. I want to see you, History, in person. And now I know where to find you.</div><div><div><div><div><p></p></div></div></div></div>Cami Mayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00247442540438820528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219934830175458287.post-85531324938427470022021-10-28T09:06:00.008-07:002022-01-02T12:08:05.930-08:00A client asked me to find his poltergeist.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQF22MKj6LxMapXRBq5Pa0B5YLkFQyEzJ7V-SUzl79RBiEBURVnRq7TpK6rbbHvcXRfPhX_lekxOeDyQicKv1TNnfJmZ1Ov43B3eUAnfw0G_5KXTP23XoPim7eU4MByAHnI279yXdDrb-zIWpreZoXw4wFvokpigcVgmemcZaBGDjS-whA85BFvwU0Rg=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQF22MKj6LxMapXRBq5Pa0B5YLkFQyEzJ7V-SUzl79RBiEBURVnRq7TpK6rbbHvcXRfPhX_lekxOeDyQicKv1TNnfJmZ1Ov43B3eUAnfw0G_5KXTP23XoPim7eU4MByAHnI279yXdDrb-zIWpreZoXw4wFvokpigcVgmemcZaBGDjS-whA85BFvwU0Rg=s320" width="240" /></a></div>Just a few weeks ago, in the month of Halloween, no less -- I received an email from a physician who lives in a distant state. He asked me to find his poltergeist. He explained that his family would go spend the summers with his grandparents. He was given the attic room in their old house. He was a teenager and experienced terrors from an enraged ghost. He told me he wanted to find out the name of the dead person, with a photograph. He would be able to identify him as he had a visual of him -- having seen the apparition. Well, in my mind, this translated into doing a house genealogy. They make wonderful gifts for someone who owns an old home. However, I only include notable people of honor, or those who lived sweet lives; unless they would enjoy the notorious people as well. I think it is interesting to know who shared your little spot on the earth.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You can start by pulling deeds. Not an easy task unless you can find the Chain of Title, which may be available at an Abstract Company. Otherwise you will need to start at the County Courthouse, and contact the Recorder of Deeds. He will most likely tell you they have been microfilmed and are housed off-site at the local historical society.</div><div><br /></div><div>But in searching for the poltergeist, I bypassed the deeds. I didn't want to know who owned the house. I needed to know who lived there. Oftentimes houses are rented. I started with City Directories, which include a section of "reverse address search". It is like a phone book, but it also can include extra interesting information, such as the occupation of the resident. Not all have been scanned, digitized and are available online. I pulled as many names as were available on the internet. The house was built just after the turn of the century. As I needed to see every City Directory for those 100 years, I went to the <a href="https://www.jchs.org" target="_blank">Jackson County Missouri Historical Society </a>in the Harry Truman Courthouse in Independence, Missouri.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8A_UhZgpRumQP-h_B6qZt3pbChvAwnL_-dc8wdDhI9ArYu1vpSMEnuCnU39C2hCDq-316METmOEG-Drrpu-w4G_ApngKcy2D73CoStlB9E9dwJxoAolCMNQug42Uold59-6lPfR9eZIQ9YBZZ-2AsG3MiHWednsoyfiN7m_lopiw7d2V7qDFUN5YmEg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8A_UhZgpRumQP-h_B6qZt3pbChvAwnL_-dc8wdDhI9ArYu1vpSMEnuCnU39C2hCDq-316METmOEG-Drrpu-w4G_ApngKcy2D73CoStlB9E9dwJxoAolCMNQug42Uold59-6lPfR9eZIQ9YBZZ-2AsG3MiHWednsoyfiN7m_lopiw7d2V7qDFUN5YmEg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>I met the young archivist, Danielle Hall, who gets as excited as I do about exploring the past. We are definitely kindred spirits. She astounded me with her knowledge of her archives. She was in every nook and corner of the courthouse pulling boxes and ledgers and photographs and newspapers for me. I was also there for another client -- trying to find a prostitute/madam in the bordello area of Kansas City Missouri during the 1880's. Oh how I love my career! I invented it when I realized that only about 10% of all information so far has been digitized and provided online. No wonder everyone deadends when they are searching for their ancestors. So, I go into repositories, attics and basements of courthouses, antique stores, etc looking for the other 90%. The hunt is thrilling. The find is exhilarating. That is why I started this blog. To encourage people to do the search for themselves. Especially as a themed vacation! </div><div><br /></div><div>I put on the white gloves to protect the ancient books, and slowly opened City Directories from 1880 - 1950. Many have not been digitized. They crumbled at my gentle touch, covering my shirt with a fine dust. I experience an indescribable feeling when encountering surviving items of the long past. It is a sense of reaching back through time, and actually touching those who lived then, even for the briefest of moments.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhogGEyhDhxNO1TBc0zFpziAili8gcpWsXR7CoASrO0uGDx57ojaK7HPdKOzdo4RC8zeh7P8hnKMpk3AedWzDON038VPgfRIMQ3ECPvp5y6mlmOeMZ82bpMrJcuDRca-BrVEsIPcNTauHbtAJL3eQSzGLdIRxGKin2VFiFadjFlicen8IhwPEePmTynpg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhogGEyhDhxNO1TBc0zFpziAili8gcpWsXR7CoASrO0uGDx57ojaK7HPdKOzdo4RC8zeh7P8hnKMpk3AedWzDON038VPgfRIMQ3ECPvp5y6mlmOeMZ82bpMrJcuDRca-BrVEsIPcNTauHbtAJL3eQSzGLdIRxGKin2VFiFadjFlicen8IhwPEePmTynpg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZ7iJ_5hWkRaY6KRwca0bVofl79GPkS5lpnDFyQYmdNdCCX05z_d1kFrIpBku2ntSs8R25UJyytl7WLXzZptF5GHMnmJd2o6PgCRv--Z3TET71yxf0vilhw5l-tqIl3SYvJk4-4yl-utvB6DjD5DRR2BbR7t0F7AOZ4WEXcIzrtFI_gfrrE_GIhdftCQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZ7iJ_5hWkRaY6KRwca0bVofl79GPkS5lpnDFyQYmdNdCCX05z_d1kFrIpBku2ntSs8R25UJyytl7WLXzZptF5GHMnmJd2o6PgCRv--Z3TET71yxf0vilhw5l-tqIl3SYvJk4-4yl-utvB6DjD5DRR2BbR7t0F7AOZ4WEXcIzrtFI_gfrrE_GIhdftCQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I finished finding the rest of the names of those who lived in the house. The next step was for me to look at the census records to determine family members and boarders in the house. My physician client said it was a male apparition, so I did not need to document the females in the house. There are 2 census records to be searched: the Federal Census is done every ten years, ending with zero. The State Census is done every ten years, ending with 5 (1905, 1915, etc.).</div><div><br /></div><div>With my work done, I relaxed and chatted with Danielle. She showed me the death photo of Wild Bill Anderson (Jesse James gang). They have an incredible inventory of archives. Book authors, film makers, thesis/dissertation researchers use these types of facilities for their research. So their holdings are hugely impressive. </div><div><br /></div><div>Danielle said hundreds of glass plate photos had been donated. She remembered seeing a portion of an old camera and printer in the basement. So she went on a search around town in other basements and found all the missing pieces to put it back together again for the glass plate photography. She showed me pictures on her phone of the pieces in the basements as she had accrued them. I would never have identified any of it. But she figured it out and recreated the camera/printer. Now that is a remarkable archivist!</div><div><br /></div><div>With my completed list of names, I could now research every male who lived in the house. I wanted to first discover who died in the house. Thankfully, Missouri has scanned every death record and provided them online on their website: <a href="https://www.sos.mo.gov/mdh/" target="_blank">Missouri Digital Heritage.</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I discovered that only one elderly man had died in the house, of a stroke. So, on to the next step: the newspapers. I searched online in specific local newspapers. My first search was for the address. This provided me with weddings and social events that happened at the property. But no murders or tragedies had occurred onsite. So then I put each male name in the search bar. The case then got interesting!</div><div><br /></div><div>I found an old newspaper article about one of the men who died by falling down an elevator shaft in a building under construction. He was 47 and was listed as a resident of the house at the time of the accident. </div><div><br /></div><div>I soon found another article about a different resident of the house who was fatally injured in an accident at the Kansas Flour Mill. He was descending on a manlift. Something went terribly wrong and he was crushed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I then took the dates and searched through microfilm to gather as much information as I could about the deaths.</div><div><br /></div><div>I provided all the information to my physician client, including documentation and citation of all sources. We are not sure how this poltergeist-thing works. Does the ghost have to die in the house or does he just need to live there? Or maybe, as my sister surmised -- someone was clandestinely killed in the attic room, and it was never discovered.</div><div><br /></div><div>My client mused about going to the house (yes, it still stands) and talking to the current owners. I cautioned against that, as they may love their house, and telling them about a poltergeist may color their happy view of their home. Instead I recommended he tell them he is doing a house genealogy and ask if they know anything about the history. They might volunteer information about the ghost. Otherwise, I sent the physician the names of recent occupants of the house. They may be more willing to talk about a poltergeist, since they no longer live there.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whether looking for a phantom or doing a house genealogy, following these steps of research should garner you a fascinating wealth of information. The process of hunting and discovering is the best part! </div><div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGbv4KXBiMOavvsJg3HP8VWj2uBDhMk2wd2FjGZPAi3fKlgIsUPtNOhAWGHlA2EuTTE6bBuf5Fn-NFiJjWONnNi_1-ShF_MRZP01J703UrQEGRMsOElc_-Hu_H4eItYJWFtpVBPoKZ-c_N0KFW923iSeXScj0cx0Mlg5-nWuShuzo79FW7zxC3FjmxfQ=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGbv4KXBiMOavvsJg3HP8VWj2uBDhMk2wd2FjGZPAi3fKlgIsUPtNOhAWGHlA2EuTTE6bBuf5Fn-NFiJjWONnNi_1-ShF_MRZP01J703UrQEGRMsOElc_-Hu_H4eItYJWFtpVBPoKZ-c_N0KFW923iSeXScj0cx0Mlg5-nWuShuzo79FW7zxC3FjmxfQ=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); 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