They were a ragtag gaggle of patriots. Somewhere north of Bynumville and Bee Branch, in the middle of an unicorporated area named for the Mussel Fork creek that runs through it, I met a most diverse group of Mussel Forkers. … Read More
Gustav Meets Kehde
Just outside Windsor, Gustav’s guts started spilling. Gustav had slammed into Louisiana as a Category 4 hurricane, and plowed north through Arkansas into southern Missouri. By the time it reached Sedalia, the storm had devolved into an extratropical depression, which … Read More
The Church in the Wildwood where “Good Father Gus” Tolton Was Born
St. Peter’s Church casts its short shadow beside the cemetery, awaiting parishioners from Monroe City and Perry, Spalding and Rensselaer, as it has ever since the church was built back at the beginning of the Civil War. Nowadays, the faithful … Read More
The Last Man to Beat Bill Hickok
Bellefontaine Cemetery holds stories that forged America. Good. Bad. Wild, like the story of Captain Bill Massie, the world’s greatest riverboat gambler. His unmarked grave belies his prowess. In the parlors of his riverboats, Captain Bill Massie could read the … Read More
My Favorite Road
“What’s your favorite road?” That question comes up a lot from people who find out I’ve driven every mile on the map.They’re curious. What’s my favorite restaurant? Favorite bed and breakfast? Favorite state park? The question came up in Trenton. … Read More
Evading the Body Snatchers, Part 3
While most Missourians didn’t steal bodies, some Missourians owned them. Along the Missouri River, several old plantation houses still stand in the fields. Some of these plantations apparently engaged in the export of human flesh. They were slaves, raised and … Read More
Evading the Body Snatchers, Part 2
When Europeans came to Missouri, it didn’t take long for Moses to play a pivotal role. Like the man for whom he was named, this Moses was a leader, and the grandfather of a modern day version of the promised … Read More
Evading the Body Snatchers, Part 1
Thomas Jefferson’s original grave marker can’t sit still. More than a century ago, it migrated from Monticello to Mizzou. Since then it has moved a couple of times on the campus quadrangle. I suspect Tom wouldn’t mind this movement, … Read More
The Good Badass Samaritan
It was Friday, already scorching hot, and the sun’s heat shimmered on the highway ahead. My car, Erifnus Caitnop, pointed her nose toward Columbia, and we both looked forward to some rest after a grueling week on the road. By … Read More
The Bridge to Nowhere
I was running late. Hannibal was still an hour away. So I took a short cut. My Pontiac was making good time on the backroads, slicing down straightaways that squeeze between flat soybean fields, fallow before spring planting. Oncoming cars … Read More