How We Spent Three Days in Jefferson City, Missouri

 

Missouri State Capitol Building, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    Hello friends, welcome to the blog! I am so glad to have you. In this installment, I'm eager to share with you all about how my partner Walter and I spent three days in Missouri's State Capitol, Jefferson City. If you're a history buff like me, Jefferson City may be just the place you'd like to visit. This city is rich in museums, historic sites, and public spaces for you to enjoy. Come along and I'll share all about our three days here. 

Central Dairy, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    After arriving in town, the first place we visited was the locally famous Central Dairy. When I asked my friends about must-visit locations in Jefferson City, Central Dairy was mentioned several times! Walter and I both got waffle cones, mine being double chocolate chip, and his being butter pecan. We were impressed by the large flavor selection and fast service. The cones were delicious on a steaming hot day, and I recommend making a stop here during your visit. 

Capitol Grounds, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    

Bicentennial Bridge, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

Cannon at Capitol Grounds, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    After leaving Central Dairy, we headed over to the Capitol Grounds. The grounds around the Capitol building are open to the public and have been transformed into a beautiful space. Here there are several monuments, access to the Bicentennial Bridge which leads to Deborah Cooper Park, and a neat old cannon from 1769. 

Duke's on the BLVD, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    For dinner, we decided to check out Duke's on the BLVD. I got the Duke's original smashburger and fries, which was delicious. I liked the vibe of the place and the staff were kind as well. If you like a good burger, hit up Duke's during your visit. 

Towne Grill, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    Kicking off day two, we headed out for brunch at Towne Grill. Walter and I both ordered the French toast, which we both loved. Our waitress was wonderful, and the meal was served in a jiffy. There are lots of things that make Towne Grill so adorable, therefor I recommend you come see for yourself!

Missouri State Penitentiary, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

     After our meal, we headed over to the Missouri State Penitentiary for our two-hour tour! I recommend booking your tour in advance to ensure your spot, as the website makes it simple to do so. The staff and guides at MSP are fantastic, and clearly passionate about what they do. This tour was extremely moving and educational, something I recommend for those willing to learn about the darker sides of Missouri's past. I plan to do an in-depth post on MSP in the future, so stay tuned to the blog for that! 

    We took this tour during an extreme heat warning, with the heat index reaching nearly one hundred degrees. The staff was incredibly proactive and considerate, ensuring we all had water, fans, and took breaks if needed. Exhausted from the heat, Walter and I concluded our day after the tours end, and opted to go for a swim at the hotel for the evening. 

Missouri State Capitol Building, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    On our final day in town, we woke up and headed back over to the State Capitol grounds. Though this time, we were heading inside. The Missouri State Capitol building is completely open to the public, and the first floor serves as the Missouri State Museum. 

    Walter and I browsed the exhibits, learning about Missouri history from the formation of the earth to modern day. Two large wings of the capitol house artifacts and exhibits for the public to view, entirely for free. I enjoyed our time here greatly and suspect we will be back someday to take the full guided tour of the capitol. 

Madison's, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    After the Missouri State Museum, we had worked up an appetite. I had a hankering for a Caesar salad, so I searched where the best place to get one nearby would be. Madison's, located downtown, quickly appeared to be my answer. We slipped into a booth and dug in, and I'm happy to report that the salad was delicious.

Strikers, taken by Jennie Moore, 2026

    Following a siesta at the hotel, Walter and I struck out for some fun on our last night in the city. Across the highway from our lodging is Strikers, a bowling alley, arcade and restaurant. We played a couple games of bowling, pool, and then sat down for a snack. I ordered the pretzel bites and queso, which I loved. 

    

Bicentennial Bridge, 2026

    This concludes our three-day trip to Jefferson City. Thank you for coming along and I do hope we've helped you plan your visit to our state capitol. We had a great time and learned so much valuable information about our home state and its history. I do hope you'll join me again on the blog in the future, until then, take care, friends. 

A Tribute to the Chickasaw Nation | Wacinton Sculpture | Paducah, Kentucky | Landmark Landing

Wacinton Sculpture, taken by Jennie Moore, 2023

       Greetings friends, welcome to the blog! I am so happy to have you. Today's stop is a beautiful and meaningful carving that stands in Noble Park in Paducah, Kentucky. Walter and I visited Paducah as a weekend getaway, and Wacinton was one of our must-see sites. Visitors are able to walk right up to the carving and view up close, so we did just that. It was a beautiful autumn day which I'll remember fondly. 

    Wacinton was sculpted by artist Peter Wolf Toth in 1985 out of a 56,000 pound red oak tree. It's intended to honor the Chickasaw Nation, who had claim of the land prior to colonization. Wacinton is also a part of the "Trail of the Whispering Giants", a series of 74 works by Toth that span both the United States and Canada. 

    Peter Wolf Toth was born in December of 1947 in Hungary. He later moved to the United States in the Akron, Ohio area. His career began in 1972 when he completed his first sculpture. He is best known today for the Whispering Giants works, on which he has been known to perform maintenance and repairs throughout the years. 

Wacinton Sculpture, taken by Jennie Moore, 2023

    The Chickasaw people descend from the Mississippian Culture, with their nations being scattered along the Mississippi River in the Southeast United States. They once were mound builders, and a part of the Muskogean language family. Their first documented contact with Europeans was with Hernando de Soto in 1540. The Chickasaws later were faced with removal, forced to walk the Trail of Tears to the newly designated territory in Oklahoma, where the nation is still based in today. 

    Wacinton is a solemn reminder of the areas past, and creates a place where one can pay their respects to the Chickasaw people who once called this land home. It is an interesting stop for those interested in art and history. The work of Peter "Wolf" Toth speaks volumes about the stories of native people, stories we all should familiarize ourselves with. Thank you for joining me, and I hope to see you at my next stop. 

 

Ernest Tubb's 1970s Tour Bus | Wicked Ollie's Vintage | Nashville, Tennessee | Landmark Landing

 

Ernest Tubb's Bus, taken by Jennie Moore, 2024

    Inside of one of Nashville's best vintage shops rests a legendary piece of classic country music history. Wicked Ollie's Vintage is worth the visit alone, but what the store is hiding inside makes it all the more fascinating. The relic I'm referring to is the tour bus of country music pioneer Ernest Tubb (1914-1984). I was lucky to be able to pay Wicked Ollie's a visit when in town with my mom and tour the bus ourselves. 

Ernest Tubb's Bus, taken by Jennie Moore, 2024

    The bus, called "The Green Hornet" is a 1964 Silver Eagle and was purchased by Ernest Tubb in 1970 from the Trailways Bus Company. Throughout the 1970s, Tubb and his band, the Texas Troubadours, traveled three million miles on the bus. They traveled to all 48 continental states, and into Canada. It was in 1995 that the bus was restored to its current state, and is now staged to appear as it did in Tubb's prime touring days.

Ernest Tubb

    Ernest Dale Tubb was born on February 9th, 1914, in Crisp, Texas. Nicknamed "The Texas Troubadour", Tubb entered the scene with honky-tonk hit "I'm Walking the Floor Over You" in 1941, becoming a member of the Grand Ole Opry in 1942. He also created the radio show "Midnight Jamboree" in 1947 that still airs today. Tubb led an incredibly impressive career, earning himself an induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame. Ernest passed away on September 6th, 1984, in Nashville, Tennessee, and is buried at Hermitage Memorial Gardens.

Ernest Tubb's Bus, taken by Jennie Moore, 2024

    Originally the Ernest Tubb Record Shop, the building was built around the bus. It then became a part of the store unit just next to the Texas Troubadour Theater in the Music Valley Village Plaza, today the location of Wicked Ollie's. What better location for a vintage bus than a vintage store? This location is a great stop for classic country fans across the board, with the bus being surrounded by vintage country music goodies. 

Ernest Tubb's Bus, taken by Jennie Moore, 2024

    It was surreal walking through the bus that carried such a legend. There are more buses on display throughout the area, and I intend to check them out in the future. Thank you for joining me on another adventure, and I hope to see you next time. If you check out the bus or Wicked Ollie's, leave me a comment and tell me about your visit! 

Home For the Holidays | First Christmas with Our New Family | Christmas 2025

 

    Hello friends, Merry Christmas! I hope you all are enjoying your holiday with friends and family, I know I am. I wanted to provide an update on our family journey that I shared about previously, as we just shared our first Christmas together. If you haven't read my original post about our family journey, click here to read. This Christmas has been the best in our memory thanks to our newfound family, and I again thank each and every one of you for your warmth and kindness. 

    It was about eight o'clock in the morning when we set out for the two-and-a-half-hour trip to Jonesboro, Arkansas. We stopped for coffee and headed south, spirits high among us. This was to be our first Christmas together, sixty-three years in the making. In addition to the who we had met just a few months before, we were also to meet even more family at this gathering, which we had been really looking forward to. Soon enough, we all converged on Aunt Joan's house, cars with license plates from five different states parked in the driveway. 

    Upon arriving, we were greeted gleefully by Joan and others. Immediately we were taken into the festive atmosphere. Others began to arrive as we settled in, and soon we had a full house. Among the guests were three cousins who had come from Tennessee and Mississippi, daughters and granddaughter of great aunt Bee, my grandfather's sister (Linda, Pat, and Linda's daughter Tammy). Ever since the breakthrough had been made and contact with family began, these cousins had reached out to me with such kindness. I am over the moon that they had come to meet us. These ladies are fabulous quilters, and I've loved seeing their work through Facebook for the past few months. Imagine my delight and surprise when they came bearing gifts. Inside two bags, one for my parents and one for me, was two absolutely beautiful, handmade quilts. 

Quilt gifted to me by Linda

    We chatted at the tables set up in the garage, as there were so many of us. It was then that cousin Linda, gifter of the quilts, pulled out another surprise. We waited in anticipation as she pulled an envelope of family photos from her purse. Dad and I were thrilled to see them. I began to pull out my phone to take photos of the photos, when Linda said "these are for you." They had been kind enough to make us our own copies of all the moments that we had missed. We spent time filing through them, listening to the information and stories that the ladies had to share. We laughed about the shocking resemblances and shared features among us all. These moments are absolutely priceless to me.

    Soon we joined for the meal, a grand southern spread made by several members of the family. We said grace and dug in, and boy was it delicious. The room fell quiet as we enjoyed our plates. After, it was time for the ornament exchange, an annual tradition for the family that I had never done before. We gathered in the living room in a large circle, each with an ornament we had brought. Aunt Joan sat at the fireplace and began to read the story of the origin of Christmas. Each time a key word was said, we passed the ornament to the person to our right. By the end of the story, we each had a new ornament! We opened them in unison, a fun reveal. I got cousin Ethan's T-Rex ornament, which I think is absolutely awesome, and looks perfect on my pink tree at home. It felt so good to be a part of something like this.

    We visited for a while longer, getting to know the newly met members of the family. I could try to nail down this feeling into words, but I'm not sure that its possible. It took a long time for us to find our way here, yet I have never been so sure where I belong. Soon, we had to set back out for home. No amount of time would have been enough. There are still so many conversations I cannot wait to have, and moments I cannot wait to share with every member of this incredible family. Thank you for teaching us about unconditional love, and I am so eager to see you all again. Thank you for a very special, memorable Christmas!

     

Coming Home | Meeting My Biological Family After a 62 Year Mystery

     

Group photo from our first Arkansas visit! (8/24/25)

    Hello everyone! I have something to share that has been so long in the making, something incredibly close to my heart. As of late, I've been on a life changing journey that I have prayed for since childhood. Some of you who know me personally may know that one of the driving reasons behind my interest in genealogy comes from my own personal family mystery. As can be seen in my previous posts, I am extremely close with my grandparents, and based off of our relationship, some may be surprised to learn that they are actually my grandparents via adoption. I am beyond grateful to say that this has never hindered our relationship, and I couldn't have asked for better family. With that being said, I would like to open up the dialogue to tell y'all a little more about my backstory.

    Growing up, my dad never knew his biological father. In fact, it wasn't until he was a teenager that he was made aware that the man on his birth certificate and who he called "dad", was not his biological father. Thankfully, this didn't sour the relationship between the two, and my dad still shares fond memories of Charles Moore Sr. Sadly, Charles and my father's mother eventually separated, leaving my dad without a consistent father figure. This led to more questions about his biological father, especially as he grew into adulthood.

    It was my great aunt Nellie, my father's mother's sister, that had the information that my father was seeking. She shared basic information that she recalled from decades prior, as my father by this time was in his thirties. She shared a name, home state, estimated age, and a few other details, and it was from here that the search began. Aunt Nellie made a point to emphasize how much my dad favored his father, who she had met all those years ago. My father spent decades searching for his estranged biological family, to no avail. I grew up knowing about our family mystery, my dad sharing age-appropriate pieces of information over the years and carefully answering my questions. I too grew curious and wanted to know more about our roots.

    I was about thirteen or fourteen when I began my own search for answers. Newspaper clippings, phone books, and finally, an Ancestry.com account, thanks to my mom. I spent years filing through documents and directories, all the while sending message after message to strangers, all along the lines of "Do you know this person?" I too failed to make any real progress, until I was gifted a DNA test kit. Of course I was interested to learn more about my heritage, but I knew what answers I really hoped the test would bring. 

    When I received the results, my heart raced as I filed through the matches. There, I saw three close matches with the last name that Aunt Nellie had given my father in the 1990s. I knew that this had opened a new door for my dad and I. I reached out to a few of the matches, and relatives of matches via social media several times over the course of the next few years. It was this past April (2025) that the final breakthrough was made. I was in the car with my step-mom when I got a notification on Facebook Messenger. It was a member of our missing biological family, a cousin, named Mikka. She had caught wind of my search and reached out to me. She too is the granddaughter of my once mysterious paternal grandfather, named Mack. Her mother, Joan, is my dad's older sister. Joan hadn't taken a DNA test, therefor I never knew to look for her. She had slipped under my radar. Best of all, they wanted to know us. 

    I had never experienced a feeling quite like that one, it was everything I had dreamed it would be. We rushed home to the farm to tell my father the news that he had waited all of his sixty-two years for. That was the first time I've seen him shed tears of joy. I did too, and have many times since then. A couple days later, I called Joan to go over everything, as she was gracious enough to give me her phone number. This was the phone call that had played in my mind a million times over throughout my life. She met me with such kindness and warmth, I knew that my life had been forever changed. We were so quickly welcomed into the family and shown nothing but outpouring love. Most of the family lives in Arkansas, a moderate driving distance, but it was unanimously agreed to meet as soon as possible.

My Dad, cousin Brett, and I meeting for the first time (7/19/25)

    The first meeting of our new family came in July when Joan's son Brett and wife Cheyenne were visiting a local tourist town here in my father and I's home state of Missouri to celebrate their anniversary. We had decided to meet for lunch at a local favorite restaurant. Our emotions were high, I really couldn't believe this was finally happening. When the pair arrived, we were greeted with so much love and enthusiasm, I felt a joy that surpassed anything I had known before. Hugs were traded and we had so much to discuss, we had altogether forgotten we were supposed to order a meal. This day will stay so vivid in my mind.

Group photo! (7/19/25)

    From here, we knew we had to make our plans to meet Joan. Finding the time and ability to take a day off can be difficult when in the farming business, but we finally managed to make it happen this past weekend! My dad and I were up bright and early Sunday morning to make the two-and-a-half-hour drive into rural Arkansas. I was so excited I nearly sent myself into a panic attack. The drive was beautiful and flew by as we chattered about the miracle taking place. When we arrived at Joan's house, we stood there in the driveway for a moment before going to the door, absorbing the moment, reflecting, and appreciating. Somehow the sun seemed to shine brighter that day, and the colors of the world more vivid. 

My Dad and Joan! (8/24/25)

    When we reached the door, several family members met us there. Smiles, hugs, and greetings erupted. Expressions of shock due to my father's striking resemblance to Mack passed around the room. I had never been here before, but I felt as if I had just gotten home. I ran to my Aunt Joan and wrapped my arms around her at the first given chance. I worked my way around the group, finally ending with Mikka. She took me in and I let out a sigh of relief as I melted into her arms. Two more family members then arrived, Mikka's two daughters. Also there is Brett and Cheyenne, and this time we got to meet one of their sons as well! We all filed into the living area and sat in a big circle, covering sixty-two years of lost time. I looked around at everyone, and once again I struggle to find the words to describe such a feeling. Each of these people had shown up for us and met us with unconditional love, no questions asked. 

My Dad, Joan and I looking through family photos and documents. (8/24/25)

    After visiting some, Joan announced that she had made banana pudding for us all. She had no way of knowing that banana pudding is one of my dad's all-time favorite desserts, but it seems some kind of higher power had whispered in her ear. We piled into the kitchen and all had a bowl of the delicious pudding as we looked through several family photos and documents, much to my dad and I's amazement. Even a family member in Texas who couldn't be there to meet us called on FaceTime to be a part of the celebration and send us her love. I prayed that it wasn't all a dream. 

My Dad and I at Joan's, him holding a photo of his father, Mack. (Note the resemblance!) (8/24/25)

    Eventually we had to begin our haul back to Southeast Missouri, but I am already looking forward to seeing my new family again. We've already made plans for upcoming holidays and day trips. It's hard to fit a journey like this into one blog post, so I would really like to delve into things more in the future with my family's blessing. I've learned that my grandfather Mack was a vibrant character, loved by his friends and community, something I am so proud of. Mack passed away in 1986 never knowing about my father's existence, so our meeting will have to wait. Though I can't help but think that he is proudly watching over us all as we reunite and come together. 

    We still have more family to meet and lots of bonding to do, along with chasing down those ancestral roots that nearly slipped through my fingers. I'm eager to update on my journey in the future, as I fully enjoy and savor these blessings. To my newfound family, thank you for everything, and I am so happy to finally know your love. At this point in the journey, I suppose the only pivotal question I have left, is if it is too soon to say "I love you."

Solving a Missing Photo Mystery | More About My Grandpa

     First of all, I want to express my gratitude toward those of you who read my last post and shared such kind and encouraging words. I'm graciously overwhelmed by the response, and I can't tell you all how much it means to me. Each of your compliments brings me great honor, most times I can't believe they are being said about me. To say I have great friends, family, and readers is an understatement. Without those things, I believe I would find it rather difficult to write at all, even if it is a much-needed mode of therapy. I'm really grateful for your support. 

    Although I understood the direction I was meant to continue writing in, I wasn't specifically sure where to start. There is so much to cover. So many people, so many memories. Of course, I gravitated toward the idea of writing more about my grandpa, but how could I possibly fit him into one article? It simply can't be done, so I was left once again wondering where to start. Today, I got my answer. Another seemingly divine encounter with impeccable timing. 

    I've been documenting my life and travels for as long as I can remember. I've always been the friend that takes all the pictures. I call myself a "memory hoarder". It began with disposable film cameras, then a digital camera, and eventually my first iPhone. Sometimes when I wanted to capture a moment important to me, I'd ask someone to take a photo of me. I've kept as many photos as possible from throughout my life, although I was always somewhat bothered by a group of photos and videos that I had lost track of. I had taken these between the ages of 10 to 14 on my first couple of iPhones. Last I could remember, they were uploaded onto my cute yellow laptop...that I haven't seen in years. I thought about the photos fairly often and hoped they didn't get thrown out with the computer, but it wasn't looking good. Over the years I had found a couple drives, looked through the photos, no luck. I had just about given up.

    Today, my dad came over to visit me. My chronic illness has been giving me trouble, and he knows his presence is some of the best medicine. While here, he was rummaging through a drawer looking for batteries, when he pulled out a dusty CD case with two discs inside. "Jen iPhone Pics 2014" they read in black marker. I was stunned. That drawer had been blocked for some time, so I hadn't looked there for the photos. I also don't recall them being put onto discs, something my dad must've thoughtfully done before laying my old computer to rest. "I should've known you wouldn't have just chucked the computer without saving my pictures." I said to him. "Of course not." he smiled and handed me the case, along with the disc reader to use with my current laptop. 

    I had a loose idea of what some of the photos could be. Snapshots of weekends at Goose Creek, our trip to Florida, my dad and I's adventures. A while back, my dad had asked me if I still had those pictures of my grandpa and I hauling hay on the farm when I was a kid. Unfortunately, those were among the missing photos. I prayed there would be a way to recover them, as they were all the more precious now. When I popped the first disc in, I knew what I hoped I would find. The first disc I put in was actually the second disc chronologically; all of the photos being taken in 2014. I flipped through them all, happy about my finds, but not entirely satisfied. I ejected the disc and switched it out for disc one, those photos being taken in 2013. 

    I flipped through only a handful of photos before I reached what I had been searching for. The photo was even better than I remembered, showing both my grandpa and I in our tractors, side by side. It was a great wave of emotion, a true feeling of joy. I immediately sent it to my dad, who was also overjoyed. I knew then what I would write about today. 

My grandfather (Darrell Plummer) and I (Jennie Moore) hauling hay on our farm in Knob Lick, Missouri - taken summer of 2013.

    Hauling hay with my grandpa, who I always called "Papa", is among my most favorite memories. Any memory I have of us spending time together on the farm lay especially close to my heart. I was blessed with countless summer days where I tagged along with Papa to check the cattle and visit his parents who lived in the farmhouse at the time. I think even then I knew how special those moments were. He trusted me with big tasks early; he always believed in me more than I believed in myself. Maybe eleven is a bit young to be operating agricultural equipment, but he never put me in over my head. We did this many times over the years, always without incident. We worked well together, and he always had a way of knowing what I was capable of. 

   He taught me how to drive slowly and carefully, keeping an eye out for ruts in the field. There were even times where he let me sit on his lap and drive his truck in the field. I don't know what I did to deserve the honors he gave me, but I'm forever grateful he allowed me to have those experiences. 

    Today, my dad and step-mother live in the farmhouse, taking over about two years ago. That has been one of the biggest blessings in my life, without question. Often I roam the fields, reminiscing on my memories with my since passed family members. I retrace their steps, taking in the view that they too once sought refuge in. The farm holds pieces of my loved ones, as if a portion of their energy had come to stay after they left their earthly form, creating a place I could always go to feel that closeness I yearn for. Now, I walk to find my grandfather. Perhaps it is really he that finds me. Either way, I usually end my walk feeling better. 

 

    I'm really grateful we recovered the missing photos, especially the one of my Papa and I. If I could only save one photo from the bunch, it would be this one. It will likely take me tens of articles to fully tell my grandfather's story, and how much he and our relationship means to me. Now that I cannot give the love in my heart directly to him, I'm sure I will write about him for the rest of my life. Thank you for lending an ear, it means the world to me. Until next time, friends. 

     

165 Scenic Overlook - Branson, Missouri | Landmark Landing

View from Overlook, taken by Jennie Moore

    Hello everyone, and welcome back to the blog! I want to share with you a beautiful place my family and I visited during our last trip to Branson, Missouri. Branson has no shortage of natural beauty, as it lies in the heart of the Ozark Mountains. Many tourists will see only the hotspots downtown, and although just as special, I recommend taking the time to see the views that have been Branson's beauty for thousands to millions of years.

View from Overlook, taken by Jennie Moore

    

    Located along Highway 165, this scenic overlook may be my favorite in the Branson area. From this peak you can admire downtown Branson, Lake Taneycomo, Table Rock Dam, and more. Below you can watch athletes golfing away on the lush course, along with beautiful homes along the lakeshore. In the distance, the rolling hills seem to go on forever, meeting the bright blue sky. If you visit in the summer like we had, the floral smells are carried up the hillside and stimulate the senses. 

Myself at Overlook, taken by dad

    Something I haven't shared on the blog much, is that I am disabled. I have several chronic conditions that cause pain, and limit my mobility. I struggle to climb, hike, or walk long distances, which can make my passion of traveling challenging. Although I am endlessly grateful for locations which accommodate those with disabilities, and I want to be more vocal on this going forward. I want to help others like me decide which places are best suitable for them to visit. I am happy to say that this lookout was perfect for someone like me. Parking is directly across the road from the lookout spot, and requires minimal walking. However the surface area is quite rough as seen in the photo above, which is something to keep in mind for those using mobility aids such as a scooter or wheelchair.

My father and step mother at Overlook, taken by Jennie Moore

    Here is my parents enjoying the view as well. They are also travel lovers and two of the biggest supporters of the blog. If it wasn't for them and their companionship, I would not be able to produce nearly as much content, or be able to do so many projects. My step mother Holly (pictured) loves the Branson area, and introduced me to Branson's scenic side. The bright lights and music are something to behold, but don't let it keep you from all the other great things to see. Thank you for reading and I hope this has inspired you to get outdoors on your next visit to Branson! If you have any must-see Branson attractions, leave a comment or send me an email!

1904 Red Bridge - Potosi, Missouri | Landmark Landing

 

1904 Red Bridge in Potosi, Missouri taken by Jennie Moore

    

    Hello everyone, and welcome back to the blog! Today I want to share with you a quaint and charming landmark Walter and I stumbled upon some time ago. Potosi, Missouri is deeply rich in history, and I admire the historic preservation measures taken in the city. Potosi is filled with elaborate historic homes, classic brick storefronts, and a noble courthouse. Among its many points of interest, is this little red bridge, which is initially easy to miss. 

    Constructed in 1904, this bridge is a pin connected, three panel, half-hip Pratt pony truss design. Originally built for horse and wagon use, the bridge was accompanied by a wooden deck, which was common for the time. Built by Stupp Brothers Bridge and Iron Co. St. Louis, MO, the bid price for construction was about $775, which would be split and paid by the city of Potosi and Washington County. Amazingly, Stupp Brothers is still in business today, and is run by the 6th generation of the founding family.

1904 Red Bridge in Potosi, Missouri taken by Jennie Moore

    

    In 1968, the bridge's wooden deck would be replaced with concrete, presumably to better accommodate motor vehicles. In 2014, a walkway accompanied by a curb and safety rail were added to the bridge, making it safer for pedestrians to cross. The historical marker on the bridge (pictured above) was erected thanks to the Mine-au-Benton historical society. I am unsure who chose the iconic red color for the bridge, or how long it has been sporting it, but I believe it suits it well. I can almost hear the sounds of the horse's hooves clacking across the former planks, guiding their owners across Mine A Breton creek all those years ago. 

    This year (2024), the bridge will reach its 120th birthday, a feat that many historic bridges do not get to see. If you are in the Potosi area and are a fan of industrial era history, I recommend paying this little red bridge a visit. It is located on S Missouri Street, just behind the business district on the main drag through town. Thank you for reading and I hope you learned something new! If you know of any other historic bridges I need to visit, leave a comment or send me an email!

Bufordville, Missouri Antique Shop | Small Business Sunday

 

Antique Store in Burfordville, Missouri taken by Jennie Moore

    Hello everyone, and welcome back to the blog. Today I want to share with you a neat shop that my father and I went to a few months ago. Many drive right past the small community of Bufordville, Missouri each day. Though history and nature lovers alike may know this village for it's historic Bollinger Mill and covered bridge (you can read my article on those by clicking here.) Just across the street from the landmark sits this quaint, colorful antique store. It had been closed during my previous visits to the mill, but this day was my lucky one.

"The Little Blue Free Library" on front porch taken by Jennie Moore

    

    The front porch alone boasts an array of interesting pieces, luring the curious minds inside. My favorite would have to be the "Little Blue Free Library". I love the concept of these libraries, as it is a way to encourage reading to any community with no cost needed, just the generosity of book donations. Upon entering, we were greeted by a warm hello from friendly gentlemen, and a soft spoken lady. I couldn't help but feel as if I had known this duo for years, although that surely wasn't the case.

"Antiques" Sign on side of building taken by Jennie Moore

    The building itself I would estimate dates from the mid to late 1800s, being covered in wooden siding accompanied by wavy glass in the windows. In the rear, the wooden floor boards bow where flood waters have repeatedly tested the structure's integrity. Though it still stands, telling the stories of years ago. I wonder how many people have walked in and out of the same doors, roaming the same routes that I myself would take through the winding antiques. 

Nuts from the neighboring covered bridge, taken by Jennie Moore

    While browsing, I came across these nuts on display that once were home to the Bufordville covered bridge, which itself dates to 1858. These were much larger than any I had seen before, definitely not something you will find at your local hardware store. I always enjoy learning about America's historical building methods, as the craftsmanship and talent required to make these engineering feats are nothing short of impressive in a time before power tools and electronics.  

Vintage vinyl section in store, taken by Jennie Moore

    As an avid vintage shopper, I always enjoy flipping through the albums in any store. I must say that this collection was the best I had ever seen in a secondhand shop. Perfectly curated from soft to psychedelic rock from the 1960s to 1980s, I could've taken them all home. The gentlemen at the counter came over, and we began to chat about music and our favorite artists. We had much in common in that department, and I could've spent the day listening to what he had to say about each album.

Front porch of store, taken by Jennie Moore

    If you are ever in the area, rather just passing by or paying a visit to the bridge and mill, I recommend taking the time to stop and look around. It is a little slice of heaven for a vintage collector and music lover, run by the kind of people that strike you like a breath of fresh air. I always treasure my conversations with strangers, especially those as kind as these. I see the beauty in humans among these people, a reminder we all need at times. If you stop in, let me know what you found! Thank you for reading, as always.

Catherine Place House | Abandoned

 

Catherine Place, Missouri taken by Jennie Moore

     This humble home has sat proudly in it’s spot along northbound Highway 67 for years, greeting motorists to the quaint community of Catherine Place, Missouri. For all of my life, it has mostly remained the same, with few changes ever taking place. It has also appeared to be empty for as long as I can recall, with no family filling these walls. However, the house has stood the test of time, with little visible decay. This was until October 24th, 2021. 

     That grim Sunday night, multiple tornadoes ripped through the area, including an EF-3 that struck Catherine Place, Fredericktown, Junction City, and more. The damage was extreme, like nothing I had ever seen. Catherine Place had been destroyed. Homes and businesses were swept away, and shredded debris filled the trees. My mind went to the little white house that I had admired on every drive into town growing up. I had accepted that it’s time had finally come. 

     The following day my father and I went into the area to deliver care baskets to the tornado victims. As we crested the hill into Catherine Place, I was met with a sickening feeling, as I saw the damage in the daylight for the first time. Though the dread was soon interrupted by a realization. Among the rubble, stood the little white house. It seemed bigger when there were no other buildings to compare it to. It had been beaten and battered, but standing as straight as ever. The white siding had been peeled off in places to reveal the older siding underneath, telling more of the house’s story. I don’t truly understand how the home survived, considering the damage in all directions, but I would like to think it is a  metaphorical reminder for us, a glimmer of hope. 

     The photo you see of the house was taken on May 6th, 2023. It still wears the scars of the tornado, as the community rebuilds around it. I regret not taking more photos over the years, but I’m glad to have finally taken this one. I would like to see life in this home someday, like there once was. I would also like to ask the builder what the secret is to building such a strong house. If you know any information on this place, feel free to comment, message, or email! I would love to hear it. 

Easter Lilies and Their Secrets

Knob Lick, Missouri, taken by Jennie Moore

     Friends, today I want to share with you one of my favorite things about the spring season. Although Easter Lilies are beautiful in their own right, what I love most about them is the history they hold. It may seem silly to say that flowers can talk, but I assure you it’s true. 

Homan St., Knob Lick, Missouri, taken by Jennie Moore

     Growing up in a former boom town, I quickly learned that a lot of people have passed through our small community over the past two centuries. I wondered about those people, and where they laid their heads at night. I was probably only four or five years old when my father told me I could find that answer in the flowers. He explained to me that the way my mother planted all kinds around our house, is something those people had done too. He led me to the southeast corner of our property, where Easter Lilies had sprouted in a perfect square, outlining where a small house had once sat. 

Plummer Rd, Knob Lick, Missouri, taken by Jennie Moore

     Since then, I look for shapes, lines, and angles in the spring flora every year, looking for the next piece of the forgotten puzzle. I find many of these shapes in our humble town of Knob Lick, Missouri. The photos I share with you today are from a walk I had taken earlier this week. To my neighbors, I’m sorry if me taking pictures of nothing was startling. I plan to match these photos with their former structures and add it to an interactive map project I am working on for the Knob Lick Historical Society. Click here to follow our page for updates! 

Plummer Rd, Knob Lick, Missouri, taken by Jennie Moore

     Next time you see Easter Lilies off on their own, remember the mother like mine who had planted them all those years ago. Time goes on, but the small joys of being a human never change. Maybe someday your Lillies will tell your story to a curious soul.