Michigan

Tour of Bob’s Childhood Haunts

August 21, 2011

We left Patty in the air-conditioned motorhome at Twin Bridges State Campground and headed north towards Miami, Oklahoma to tour the northeast corner of Oklahoma where Bob was born and raised. 

On the way, we passed by a house that Bob once owned.  He sold it before he ever lived in it.

As we continued along, we passed the manufacturing facility for Newell Motorhomes.  Newell’s are considered to be the some of the  finest on the road.

We also passed the field where Bob’s Dad built he and his Mom a landing strip.  Bob says he had to come in over the wires and drop quickly when landing, and had to get the airplane up and over the trees at the end of the strip when taking off.

Bob was born in Douthat, Oklahoma.  His family lived in the mining community of Douthat until he was a junior in high school.  His Dad was an owner and was the operator of the Blue Goose Mine #2 near Douthat.  Douthat no longer exists.

 

 

 On the corner of an intersection near the Blue Goose #2 Mine, Bob’s father owned a grocery store. Bob’s grandparents ran the store.  Bob told me this story:  Bob’s Grandmother was always up early on a cold morning to build the fire and get breakfast going so that she and Bob’s Grandfather could get to the store early.  One evening, she placed the day’s take of money inside the wood stove for safekeeping, as she always did.  The next morning, Bob’s Grandfather got up early for some reason and started a fire in the stove.  He burned up the day’s receipts!

Bob’s home in Douthat was just down the street from the store.  There’s a story about this tree, but I’m not telling it.  You’ll have to ask Bob.

 

 

 

When Bob was in about the 7th grade, his Dad sold the mine and opened a automobile body shop in Miami, Oklahoma where Bob washed cars with Mickey Mantel while Mickey was still in high school. 

 

In the tenth grade, Bob began tearing down the old office at the Skeleton Division of the Eagle-Picher Mine. 

As a shop project in high school, Bob and his fellow students used that wood to build a house for the Jordans in Quapaw, Oklahoma.  Believe it or not, when Bob was a sophomore in high school he was hired to drive school bus and did so until he graduated high school.  The shop class would load onto the bus at Picher High school and Bob would drive them over to Quapaw (about 5 miles) to work on the house and then drive them back to school for their next class period.  The house was far enough along that Bob’s family moved into the house the last part of Bob’s junior year in high school.  After that, the shop class built the cabinets and such, and Bob and his Dad installed them and did the finishing work on the house.  Although Bob now lived in the Quapaw School District, he continued to go to school in Picher driving the bus and picking up and dropping off students on the way to and from school.  Bob says that he would often drive the football team to a game, play in the game, and then drive the football team back to Picher.  He also says that he had the most trouble with behavior from the band members!

In high school, Bob delivered ice on a route and also sold ice from a dock in town.

Here is the bank where Bob banked his money, and a couple of the water towers he climbed.

 

 

 

We also drove, today, through the ghost towns of Cardin and Picher, Oklahoma.  If you look Picher, Oklahoma up on the internet, you will find that it is considered to be one of America’s most toxic towns.  A buyout by the government began in 2007, and as you can see by our pictures the towns of Picher and Cardin are mostly leveled now. 

HISTORY
The towns of Picher and Cardin developed around the lead and zinc ore strikes in about 1913. By 1920, Picher had a population of about 10,000 people.  Bob’s Dad bought into the Blue Goose #2 in 1925, and Picher had a population of over 14,000 people by 1926.  After that, the mining activity decreased and the population dropped off to about 6,000 in 1940 and 2,500 in 1960.  Over 50 percent of the lead and zinc metal consumed in WWI came from the Picher mine field.  Mining fell off because Picher could not attract new industry and the majority of the real estate belonged to the Quapaw Indian Nation.

When lead and zinc mining finally ceased in 1967, pumping water from the mines ceased and they began to fill with water, accumulating 76,800 acre-feet of mine water under ground. This contaminated water began to seep from the mines in 1973. In 1983 the Picher area became part of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s Superfund Site program. With 1,400 mine shafts in the Picher area, 70 million tons of waste tailings, and 36 million tons of mill sand and sludge, environmental clean up was a monumental task.

Just after the EPA completed its work to make the town livable again and considered the clean up of the Superfund Site to be finished, an F4 tornado came through the town of Picher on May 10, 2008 leveling part of the community and killing and injuring several people.  In 2006, a study commissioned by Senator Inhofe of Oklahoma showed 286 sites in the area where the ground was at risk of collapse because of the vast underground network of caves left by the mining. There had been multiple cave-ins over the years causing property damage and at least one death of a motorist who drove into a gaping hole.

Today, all that can be seen in the town is overgrown house foundations, and a few remaining buildings which are now crudely spray painted as government property.  The chat piles that Bob played on as a child still loom in the distance.

 

Cardin is just a few miles from Picher and has also been bought out by the government.

 

 

From Cardin, we backtracked a little and drove into Kansas to Baxter Springs.  We passed the old Wasita factory where Bob and many of his friends worked at one time.  We also passed the old Lerner’s plant where they made clothing for the military.  Bob’s mother worked there as an inspector.

 

 

 

 

We finished off the day with an enjoyable visit with Bob’s step-sister-in-law, Patsy.  It was fun to listen to Bob and Patsy reminisce about the days of their childhood.

On the drive back to the motorhome, we passed the place where Bob’s Uncle Abb lived.  

We continued on along  Route 66 through Miami, Oklahoma.

We look forward to more adventures tomorrow!

 

Missouri to Oklahoma

Interstate I 44 to Twin Bridges State Campground

August 20, 2011

We were up and on the road early after a restless night in a hot motorhome.  We moved on west on I 44 with a stop just east of Joplin, Missouri at the “largest RV salvage yard in the United States.”  After browsing through their very interesting inventory, we bought a few replacement latches for our cupboard doors and a new fuel filter for the generator.  Hopefully that will solve our generator problem.

We drove on into Oklahoma and exited the freeway at Miami, Oklahoma (pronounced My-am-uh).  We headed south to Twin Bridges State Park and, after dumping the tanks at the dump station, found a nice place to park for a few days. 

Twin Bridges is named after the identical bridges that cross the Neosho and Spring Rivers as they meet right here at the Park.  This is the north end of the Grand Lake of the Cherokees.  Bob grew up fishing and waterskiing here.

It’s about 93 degrees here with almost 50 percent humidity.  The motorhome hasn’t cooled off yet from the drive.  That’s the explanation for the headband!

The park is really nice and there are few people here because school has started in Oklahoma. Because we are nearly alone, we are able to cheat and let Patty run without her leash.

 

We’ll spend a few days taking a nostalgic tour of the towns where Bob grew up and went to school.  Pictures to follow.

Along I 44 and old Route 66

August 19, 2011

We left the rest area in Illinois bright and early in the morning.  At about 6:45 a.m., the air is crisp and the traffic is light.  We made our way across St. Louis about 8 a.m.  Traffic was reasonable even as we crossed right through downtown St. Louis.

Gateway Arch and the Museum of Westward Expansion

The Arch that is located in St. Louis, Missouri is known as the “Gateway to the West,” placed in honor of Thomas Jefferson’s vision of the spread of freedom and democracy from “sea to shining sea.”  St. Louis, Missouri was the “jumping off place” for people who traveled the Oregon Trail to Oregon Territory and California expanding the west to the Pacific coast.

A group of civic investors in St. Louis held a national contest in 1947 for the design of the arch.  Eero Saarinen won with his design for a 590 foot Arch which he designed as a tribute to the spirit of westward pioneers.  His design was modified and expanded over the next 15 years.  He never saw the Arch completed as he died in 1961.  Actual construction started in 1963, the Arch was completed in 1965, and it was dedicated in 1968.  The Arch stands 630 feet tall with a base that is 54 feet across and 60 feet deep.  It was built to withstand strong earthquakes and high winds.  The Arch is built to move at least 18 inches at the top if needed.  A wind of 50 miles an hour will move it about one-and-a-half inches.  The Arch weighs 17,260 tons.

The Arch is a draw for people who seek to do more than just enjoy the view.  No fewer than 11 aircraft have flown through the Arch.  In 1980, one individual attempted to land on the Arch with a parachute with the plan to rejump from the top.  On his attempted landing, his shute pulled him down and he slid to his death.  Others have attempted to climb, with varying degrees of success, up the outside of the Arch using suction cups.

There are trams located in each leg to move people up and down inside the arch.  There are also stairs that people can use in an emergency.  The Arch can hold 160 people at one time in its 17 foot wide viewing area at the top. The Arch is now a 100-acre park maintained by the National Park Service. Directly under it is the Jefferson Expansion Museum which consists of the Gateway Arch, the Museum of Westward Expansion, and St. Louis’ Old Courthouse. 

St. Louis’ skyline is one of many church steeples.

As we crossed into Missouri and headed on west paralleling old Route 66, we drove across the northern end of the Ozark Mountains.  The freeway was very hilly and it didn’t take long to realize that we had trouble.  Every time we climbed a steep or long hill, the temperature gauge would climb.  As soon as we crested the top, the temperature would drop back down to  normal.  It became obvious that the radiator fan was not kicking on as needed.

Bob nursed the engine along to Lebanon, Missouri where we pulled off to seek out the Ford place.  They told us that they don’t work on motorhomes at all, but directed us just down the road to a place called Cole N Sons where they do.  We figured we were stuck for the weekend since it was after 1 p.m. on a Friday when we rolled into the place.  They were amazing, however.  Within minutes, they located and had delivered the clutch needed for the radiator fan, and by 5 p.m. we were back on the road again. 

We headed on west on I 44 through Springfield, Missouri and stopped for the night at a rest area about 20 miles west of Springfield.  It seems that the winter in Michigan was as hard on our equipment as it was on us because now the generator keeps shutting itself down so we can’t use the air conditioner to get the motorhome cooled. That’ll be something else for Bob to repair once we settle in Oklahoma for a week or two. For now, it’s 93 degrees in the motorhome and we’re heading for bed.  Luckily, I have a fan that runs on D batteries so it’s looking like another night of sleeping with a fan in my face!

 

 

We’ll make it to Twin Bridges State Park in Oklahoma tomorrow where we will stop and hook the motorhome up to power for a few days while we explore the country where Bob was born and raised.

Indiana to Illinois

Hospitality Rest Area on I 69 to Rest Area on I 70

August 18, 2011

We managed to get out on the road about 8:30 a.m. after eating breakfast and performing a few maintenance chores.  The pickup had not been hooked up to the motorhome for a year so Bob had to crawl underneath and hit the drive-line disconnect with some WD40.  He also dug out the ladder and climbed up to wash the windshield. 

We drove south on  I 70 through Fort Wayne and on down to Indianapolis.  We circled Indianapolis on I 465 and then headed southwest on I 70.  The exchange from I 465 to I 70 was tricky.  They had changed the exits off of one and onto the other without changing the signs.  I spotted the problem at the last minute and Bob did some fast driving to get us into the correct lane.  Then about five miles down the road we were detoured off of the freeway because of construction.  All lanes were impacted.  What kind of poor planning is that?!!  We detoured over to State Highway 40 which parallels I 70 all the way to Terre Haute (Bob says it’s pronounced Tear Hote).  We finally were able to return to I 70 and crossed into Illinois where we gained an hour as we entered the Central Time Zone. 

We gassed up in Effingham, Illinois.  I imagine that name gets some jokes told about it nowadays.  The new motor did well – we got 6.7 mpg which is about a mile per gallon better than we used to get on the old engine.  We drove on down I 70 about ten miles and are now set up for the night in a rest area.

Notice the reflection of our motorhome in the window of the rest area building!

 

I 40 and I 70 parallel the old route of the National Road. 

The National Road

Before railroads, travel across the U.S. was difficult.  Generally, water transport was the main means of moving along.  There were roads, but the majority were poorly maintained tracks built to carry farm produce to market.  They were often impassable in wet weather and winter.  Much road transport towards the west was limited to packtrains and horses over traditional Native American trails.

The National Road was begun in 1803.  It was also called the Cumberland Road, the Pike Road, the National Pike Road, or the Cumberland Pike Road.  It carved its way from the headwaters of the Potomac River in Cumberland, Maryland through the Cumberland Gap in the Alleghenies and on to Wheeling in what is now West Virginia.  By 1841, it ran from Baltimore to Vandalia, Illinois. Originally the plans were for it to stretch from Baltimore to St. Louis, but the rapid expansion of the railroads led to the project being abandoned.

There were numerous inns on the National Road where travelers could rest awhile and get a good meal for 25 cents. About the National Road it was said, “Never had been such landlords, such taverns, such dinners, such whiskey, such bustle, or such endless cavalcades of coaches and wagons as could be seen or had between Wheeling and Frederick in the palmy days of the old national pike.”

Many old-timers interviewed by magazines said,

“The wagons were so numerous that the leaders of one team had their noses in the trough at the end of the next wagon ahead and the coaches, drawn by four or six horses, dashed along at a speed of which a modern limited express might not feel ashamed. Besides the coaches and wagons, there were gentlemen travelling singly in the saddle, with all their luggage stuffed into their saddlebags. There were enormous droves of sheep and herds of cattle, which raised the dust like a cloud along their path. Once in a while, Mr. Clay or General Jackson made an appearance, and answered with stately cordiality the familiar greetings of the other passers-by. Homespun Davy Crockett sometimes stood in relief against the busy scene, and all the statesmen of the West and South Harrison, Houston, Taylor, Polk, and Allen among others came along the road to Washington.

The traffic was so heavy that generally it was safe from highway robbery, but the traveler by coach had his expedition spiced by the occasional assaults of highwaymen, who sprang out of the pines that in some places made perpetual night of the most brightest day. Nearly every mile had its tavern, and every tavern its pretty maid or jovial host. ‘The eating was the cream of the earth, Sir,’ said an old traveller to me. ‘I dined at Delmonico’s (in New York) last week, and my dinner was nothing to the venison cutlets and the ham and eggs and johnny-cakes of the pike. 

The cookery was excellent and after the exhilaration of a gallop down a mountain without brakes, and the tonic air of the pines, what appetite would not be set on edge, what refinement of palate displeased, by venison cutlets, or even ham and eggs? There were rival lines of coaches, and the competition led to overdriving and many accidents. The passengers became partisans of the line by which they traveled and execrated the opposition and its patrons. Sometimes two coaches of different lines would travel together and, as one passed the other, the passengers in the vehicle left behind would threaten and gesticulate against the victors. The verbal menace was often emphasized by an exhibition of bowie-knives and pistols which more than once led to the verge of a battle; but among themselves the passengers in each coach were fraternally intimate and the driver was usually an old hand, who could tell stories by the hour to beguile his companions on the box seat. The rival lines brought rival taverns into existence, and as the two opposition coaches drove into a town for supper, they pulled up before separate houses.”

Tomorrow we will travel on down the route of the old National Road, through Vandalia, Illionois and on through St. Louis and into Missouri.  Thanks for your hospitality, Illinois.  We appreciate being able to stay overnight at your rest areas.