Lakeforest Mall - Gaithersburg, Maryland | Abandoned

Lakeforest Mall taken by Jennie Moore

     Today’s blog post is a bit different than usual, but exhibits an interest of mine that I have had for a long time. Abandoned retail is a niche but passionate community that I stumbled upon several years ago. Something about the fallen empires of the modern world is alluring, yet haunting. My favorite content on the subject is created by Jake Williams (Bright Sun Films) and Dan Bell (This is Dan Bell) on YouTube. I highly recommend you check them out. 

Lakeforest Mall, taken by Jennie Moore

     I visited Lakeforest Mall on my 8th grade field trip to Washington D.C. It was around that time that my eye for dated architecture began developing, giving me some new found inspiration for my photos. The photos I took, at age 14, are the ones you see in this post. Although they are far from professional, they are still some of my favorites in my portfolio solely because of the subject matter. 

Lakeforest Mall, taken by Jennie Moore

     Lakeforest Mall was built in 1978, at the height of the American mall boom. It was wildly successful, as most were at the time. People flocked from all over to the trendy stores and flashy food court. The facility became a local staple, continuing to grow throughout the 80s, 90s, and 2000s. This trend was steady, until the arrival of the 2010s, when the mall began to see a change. This change, is known as online shopping. The wide variety along with availability that could once only be found in a mall, had come to the people’s fingertips. 

Lakeforest Mall, taken by Jennie Moore

     In 2012, the mall was valued at $100 million dollars. This would ultimately be the last hoorah for Lakeforest. In the following years, all four anchor stores would leave the mall, along with their smaller counterparts. Lakeforest was sold for $19.1 million dollars in 2017, a minuscule amount compared to just five years earlier. I visited the mall in 2016, and I remember it’s quiet, echoey wings were far from active. 

Lakeforest Mall, taken by Jennie Moore

     Lakeforest Mall’s final day in business was March 31st, 2023. It was open 44 years. It is set to be demolished in 2024. I wanted to share my photos of Lakeforest, to forever capture it in time. They are my first photos in the genre, and ignited my interest in liminal spaces. I hope you find these interesting and inspiring like I have. 

Patti’s 1880s Settlement | Landmark Landing

     

     At the time I’m writing this post, my mother and I are traveling. We’re making our way through western Kentucky, bound for Tennessee. Our appetites were growing, and she had made a suggestion of where we should stop to eat. She recalled a place she had eaten once before, called Patti’s 1880s Settlement. Just from the name, of course I was interested. 

     This restaurant is completely 1880s themed, even down to the clothing of the employees. The entrance features a fair sized gift shop, full of decor, knickknacks, and souvenirs. We were seated after a short wait, (and after I had purchased a magnet for my already overcrowded refrigerator door) and greeted by the kindest staff. 

     Imagine my surprise when the waitress brought to the table a terracotta flower pot with fresh homemade bread flowing out of it. She placed a small cup on the table, filled with their specialty, strawberry butter. I’ll admit I was skeptical, but now I insist that you all try it. The sweet and savory combination is to die for. Both my mother and I both ordered seafood, and we both agree it was fabulous. 

     If you are ever near Grand Rivers, Kentucky, I highly recommend stopping by Patti’s 1880s Settlement. Not only a great eatery, but it is surrounded by a quaint, charming village. If you ever visit, let me know what you think! 

An Impromptu Trip to Arkansas | Landmark Landing

     

Abandoned House, Calico Rock, Arkansas, taken by Jennie Moore

     Sometimes the best things in life are unplanned, or so they say. After my first “on a whim” trip in February, I think I agree. I’ve always been a fiend for travel, even to, or especially to, typically bypassed areas. I am just as eager to road-trip on two lane roads through rural, small town America, as I am to see sprawling cities. The lesser known, the under documented, the elusive, is what entices me. 

Jon’s New Thunderbird, taken by Jennie Moore

     So when a close friend, Jon, asked my partner Walter & I to take a two day, one night trip to rural Arkansas to pick up one of his dream project cars, (a round of applause for the Thunderbird) I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t help but think of all of the sightseeing I could do, made even better by the presence of my loved ones. 

The Dogwood Motel, Mountain View, Arkansas, taken by Jennie Moore

     We left on a Friday night, stopping for pancakes and spontaneously being questioned by the police. An omen for a good trip, I’d say. We drove through the night, long highway straights led us across the state line. From there, Jon guided us along the curviest roads we had ever been on. The second segment of the trip felt much like a rollercoaster ride, and I would like to give major prop’s to the manufacturer of our breaks. We arrived at our motel, a family owned mid-century modern place called the Dogwood Motel. I can’t lie, I loved it. 

Calico Rock, Arkansas, taken by Jennie Moore

     We woke up in Mountain View, Arkansas to a cool, crisp morning. We headed out early and grabbed some breakfast pizza on the way to the seller’s home. The seller was a kind man, and even welcomed us to see his personal project, a shiny red Nova. We loaded the precious cargo onto the trailer, and set off for home. 

Poster in our motel room, taken by Jennie Moore

     Although this trip seemed short, the amount of things you can see in 24 hours is incredible. Communities like Salem, Oxford, and Onia have so much to offer if one wants to look. Mountain View is a beautiful town, and even claims itself as the Folk Music Capital of the world. A unique quality of the city is just how many of its buildings are constructed with local rock, giving a uniform aesthetic to its streets. 

     From chatting with locals, to admiring the architecture along the way, I loved every second of our trip. I hope to find more opportunities to travel and document these hidden gems even further. I did strike gold on one location this time, so expect an article on that soon! Thank you for coming along with me. 

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. 

Rivermines IGA | When It Stood

 

Rivermines IGA, taken by Jennie Moore December 2018

        In small town America, places like your local grocery store are so much more than the items they sell. They became a place to socialize, hang out, or find your favorite treat. A great example of this is Rivermines IGA, in the once bustling town of Rivermines, now within the city limits of Park Hills, Missouri. My father, Gary Moore, recalls fond memories of visiting the IGA as a child.

        Gary, his mother, and his siblings were from North St. Louis, a place of hustle and bustle. They took a leap of faith and moved to what is now Park Hills, in 1967. This was a change of scenery for the bunch, and somewhat of a culture shock. My father expressed to me that he quickly fell in love with how small town folk took such pleasure in the most mundane of tasks. Grocery shopping was not a burden, but an opportunity leave the house, visit with friends, and try something new. What was once viewed as a drag, became a highlight of one's day.

        Although I was unable to find an exact build date, my father recalls riding bicycles with friends and siblings to Rivermines IGA from the time they moved to the area, and well into the 1970s. The ride from their home in Elvins was a treat, one enjoyed as often as possible. "Mom got her hair done at the beauty shop near the IGA, and we would go into the store while we waited on her." he said. He recalls the staff as being "very friendly", always wearing a smile on their faces. "You couldn't leave without seeing someone you knew." he continued.

1977 Rivermines IGA Advertisement, courtesy of The Daily Journal

        At the time, IGA ran a red, white, blue, and beige theme. Yellowed tile ran the floors, shelving filled the open space, and florescent lights hung from the ceiling. "What was your must have item that you always got at Rivermines IGA?" I asked my father. "Honestly..." he said, "plain ole bologna." he chuckled. You see, IGA stores were kind to lower class families like my father's. Prices on basics were competitively low, a blessing for those in a pinch. It was a place you could go, and know you would come out with something to put on the table, free of judgment. 

        Rivermines IGA did a good business until, my father guesses, the late 1980s. When big box stores came into the area, mom and pop grocery stores found it impossible to keep up. Like many others across the country, massive chains, would force Rivermines IGA to close their doors. Now on the lot, ironically, sits a Dollar General. I am thankful to have snapped the photo above, just months before the original building was razed. Not only was it a symbol of mid-century culture, but a remnant of the former town of Rivermines, as it read on the building's face. I encourage you to share your stories and memories in the comments, as they are so valuable.  I would also like to thank my dad, for sharing your memories with us. Now they will be preserved for those like me, who missed that time in history. Thank you all for taking this trip with us, and I hope you enjoyed.

Theodore Street House | Abandoned

Historic Home in Park Hills, Missouri, taken by Jennie Moore

        To be completely honest, I know nearly nothing about this seemingly abandoned home that sits on the corner of Theodore and Berry in Park Hills, Missouri. It does not have a notable story or famous resident like most homes I cover. However, it has had my heart for the past several years, and I've decided to share it anyway. As a historical writer, it is quite often that my searches for information yield little results. Many projects sit collecting dust, because they do not meet the content criteria I have set for myself. Recently, I've decided that that is absolutely silly. We should not withhold our interests from one another based on what we do or do not discover about them. From now on, you will see many more, yet shorter articles on the blog, because it is time to shed light on these landmarks even if there is no tall tale, because the story did belong to someone, a someone who matters. I am the type so shout "wow!" out the car window when seeing a place that catches my eye, and that alone is worth sharing.

        What I do know about this home, is that records show it was built in 1920. I had initially guessed it to be older, as stacked stone foundations, like the one this house rests on, were phasing out at the time. This makes me think it was build by a lower class family, using the most cost effective methods for their home. It is a quaint 780 square feet, with two bedrooms and one bathroom. It's location places it in historical town, Flat River, annexed by Park Hills in 1994. That is where the facts end, but where my imagination starts. 

Side view of Theodore Street House taken by Jennie Moore

        I feel it is likely the home was built by a blue collar family, perhaps employed by one of the many local mines and quarries. It is common for mining families to construct or be provided with a home of this size, and design. I'm sure fire blazed in the winter, and every window rest open in the summer. I wonder who walked the floors, and rested their heads within. This I may never know, but it surely doesn't hurt to try. 

        Do you have any information on this home? I encourage you to comment or contact me via email. I would love to make an update in the future. Realtor websites read that a recent sale has been made on the home. Does this mean a restoration could be on the table? I sure hope so. Let me know if you have any favorite sites I should see, and again, thank you for supporting the blog.

 

Aunt Beck May House | Landmark Landing

 

Aunt Beck May House, taken by Jennie Moore

        In the rural town of Piedmont, Missouri sits a relic that once belonged to a beloved citizen. Rebecca (Payne) May was born on April 10th, 1848 near Sandborn, Indiana. She spent her childhood in Greene County, and on November 22nd, 1866, married William A. May there. The couple remained in their home town until c. 1876-1883, when the couple moved to Wayne County, Missouri, where they would raise 10 children.

        The two story log cabin seen above was originally built c. 1885-1890 on the western side of Mingo Swamp by John Albert Wilfong. In 1894, Wilfong would wed the daughter of William and Rebecca, Laura. Unfortunately, the marriage would be cut short, when Laura passes away during childbirth the same year. During this time, details are unclear about John's whereabouts, but the cabin he had built would be passed into the possession of his in laws, William and Rebecca May. Also around this time, the cabin would be moved to a spread of 43 acres 7 miles north of Wappapello. This land was gifted to William May for his time serving in the American Civil War. In this location, the pair raised their children, and orphaned grandchildren.

Side view of Aunt Beck May House, taken by Jennie Moore

        William and Rebecca were loved by their community. Rebecca in particular was considered a local treasure, thanks to her work as a midwife. She delivered many of the area children, and was lovingly gifted the nickname, "Aunt Beck". The two would spend the rest of their days in this cabin, with William dying on January 12th, 1906, and Rebecca dying on September 23rd, 1923. The community mourned the loss of their heroic midwife, who would leave a permanent footprint in Wayne County history. Though over the years as new generations came, Aunt Beck's memory began to fade. That was until a remarkable discovery decades later.

Rebecca "Aunt Beck" (Payne) May posted outside of her cabin

        In 1994, Earl and Ruth Carver were preparing to remove a building on their farm with intentions to construct a new barn. Though upon initial dismantling, they would quickly discover that beneath the façade, sat a log structure. This would quickly be confirmed to be Aunt Beck's lost cabin. The Carvers would reach out to locals Bob and Evelyn (May) Wilson, as Evelyn happens to be the great granddaughter of William and Rebecca "Aunt Beck" May. They immediately hopped into action, taking on the project alongside the Carvers of dismantling, restoration, and finding a new location for the cabin. Bob Wilson also created numerous graphs to number each cabin piece, and how it was to be reconstructed. The cabin was donated by the Wilson's to the Wayne County Historical Society. The organization then settled on the new location, on Route 34 in the city of Piedmont. By October of 1995, the reconstruction was complete, and could not have been done without the determination of the Carvers, the Wilsons, the Wayne County Historical Society, and group of volunteers. Now the memory of Aunt Beck can be shared for generations to come.

Aunt Beck May House signage, taken by Jennie Moore

    

    If you would like to visit the Aunt Beck May House, I encourage you to do so. It is easy to access, and requires minimal walking. The cabin also serves as a museum, so keep your eyes open for when it may be open to the public. You are able to walk the exterior at any time. Thank you all for tuning into the blog once again, I hope you will join me for our next stop! It is thanks to readers like you I am able to document these places.

        

Old McKendree Chapel | Landmark Landing

 

Old McKendree Chapel, taken by Jennie Moore

    

        Hidden on a wooded back road in Jackson, Missouri, sits a religious relic that played a major role in American Methodist history. Not only is McKendree Chapel the oldest standing Protestant church west of the Mississippi, but it is older than the state of Missouri itself. Constructed in 1819 by local carpenters and class members, the chapel was home to an early area congregation, founded in 1809. Before the chapel was built, services and revivals were held by the group on the same site. This two acre plot was owned by the Williams family, who would later donate the land for the chapel's construction. This site was chosen because of its poplar, oak, and maple tree groves, in addition to it's proximity to a natural spring, and being located on a high point. The chapel's name is derived from well known preacher William McKendree, who visited the site one year before construction began, in 1818. McKendree was the first native born Methodist bishop in America, and spent his life navigating the country to speak the word to thousands. He is often referred to as the "Father of Western Methodism".

        

Old McKendree Chapel, taken by Jennie Moore

         At the time of its construction, McKendree Chapel was a primitive log structure. Designed by architect Charnal Glasscock, the chapel showcases features uncommon for the era, such as windows with sashes, plank flooring, and a shingled roof. In the rear of the building, a sizable stone fireplace provides heating in the winter months. As early as the 1850s, weatherboard siding was added to the chapel, providing an extra layer of protection to the logs and mortar. Also on the property sits the Williams family cabin, and a cemetery.

Inside Old McKendree Chapel, taken by Jennie Moore

        The church congregation grew and flourished over the decades after its founding, serving many local families every week. In the 1830s, the chapel even became a schoolhouse. This trend was steady, until strain fell upon the church shortly before the Civil War. In 1844, the Methodist Episcopal Church split into a northern and a southern branch. McKendree Chapel's pastor, Nelson Henry, was a northern sympathizer, and kept his church associated with the northern Methodist branch. However, the Jackson area was of a very southern demographic, and this impacted McKendree's health as a church. From the time of the split, attendance dwindled, and the church's integrity weakened. By 1890, regular services along with schooling ended, and the congregation had disbanded. 

Old McKendree Chapel, taken by Jennie Moore

        Over the years after the chapel's closure, it began to fall into disrepair. Though the community recognized its significance, and decided to take action. In 1926, Reverend William Stewart was named pastor at New McKendree United Methodist Church in Jackson. Stewart immediately took the reigns, and began renovations on the chapel. The initial restoration was completed in 1933, and without the guidance and enthusiasm of Reverend Stewart, McKendree Chapel may have been lost. On October 15th, 1933, the northern and southern branch of the Methodist Episcopal Church came together to host a rededication service at Old McKendree Chapel, with over 2,000 people in attendance. Also in 1933, the McKendree Chapel Memorial Association was founded to protect the chapel, cemetery, cabin, and grounds. 

Reverend William Stewart

        Improvements continued over the decades, thanks to the association. In 1958, a steel canopy was added over the chapel to provide further protection. Then in 1977, the weatherboard siding was removed from the chapel to expose the original logs. 9 years after that, the Williams family cabin was reconstructed on the property. After these changes, the Old McKendree Chapel was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1987. In recent years, the original stones in the adjacent cemetery have been restored. Also recently (2022), another round of renovations are being done on the chapel and grounds. Such as a new steel canopy, improvements on the Williams cabin, and a fresh lawn. 

Old McKendree Chapel Stone, taken by Jennie Moore

        These days, Old McKendree Chapel once again sees the love and life it was built for. On the fourth September of every year, an event called Old McKendree Day is held at the chapel. All are welcomed to this event, as well as many others throughout the year. The McKendree Chapel Memorial Association has even more plans for the historic grounds. The future for the property is most certainly bright. For more information on upcoming events, information, visiting hours, and how you can contribute to the association's plans, visit their website. https://oldmckendree.org/

The Demaree House | When It Stood

 

The Demaree House c. 2017, via St Louis Post-Dispatch

     Hello everyone, and welcome to the newest series on the blog, called "When It Stood". In this series, I'll be writing on locations that are no longer with us in physical form. We will explore their history, share their legacy, and preserve their memory in people's minds. As a historic preservationist, it breaks my heart to lose these places to time. Though we can do our best to retell the stories, and use the pain of loss as motivation to save what is still standing. Today we are discussing the Demaree house, which stood in House Springs, Missouri. First, allow me to share a bit of backstory. 

     House Springs as we know today, was once called Demaree after the builder of this home, Cornelius Demaree. Demaree was one of the earliest settlements in Jefferson County, with its first residents, Adam House and family, arriving around 1796. Adam house was a German man, looking for a place to settle away from the more populous communities of the Upper Louisiana Territory. He found Missouri promising, as the land was fertile, and saw St. Louis a potential trading post for his goods. House came upon a piece of flatland near a spring surrounded by sugar maples, and the family decided their homestead would be built there. 

     Though the House family found success in their endeavor, tragedy would soon strike. In the year 1800, members of the Osage Tribe were traveling to St. Louis, when they made a stop at the House homestead. They requested to borrow two of House's horses, but he declined. In spite of this, after House returned to his work, the Osage men took the horses anyway. House contacted authorities, who had the Osage involved arrested. Things would take a dark turn however, as the Osage would raid the House homestead, killing Adam, and his son Jacob as an act of revenge. The two other House children escaped, and Adam's wife Anne had already passed due to illness by this time. 

     It wasn't until 1837, that another family would see the vision that the House family once had for the land. In the recent years prior, Cornelius Demaree migrated to Jefferson County from Kentucky. It was during 1837, that Cornelius married Delphine Keepers. Following the marriage, the newly weds decided settled on the historic acreage. Here they built a log structure on the land, which would evolve into the two story, center hall home that locals would know and love for years to come. In the land survey #666, it shows Cornelius Demaree owning the majority of the land that had once belonged to Adam House. 

The original 1837 logs exposed beneath the siding c. 2017, via Jefferson County Library

Cornelius was a merchant, blacksmith, and postmaster within the community that has sprung up around his homestead. It was in this home that the Demaree's had three daughters, Elizabeth, Caroline, and Mary. Unfortunately, Delphine died sometime around 1845, less than ten years after settling and starting their new life in Missouri. Though Cornelius did remarry, after falling in love with a woman named Lucinda Longwith in 1853. They would go on to have two more children, Charles and Phoebe.

In 1857, Cornelius Demaree died. His family lived in the home for another three years, but by 1860, it became necessary to sell the property, along with its assets. A man by the name of Dr. George A. Smith subdivided the land and marketed the parcels as “The Town of Demaree”. The probate record lists the town as having 15 buildings, including the dwelling house, a stable, a blacksmith shop, and well houses.

After several years, the Demaree family left the area, causing the name of the town to be changed to House Springs, in memory of the family who had first settled the region. All that remains of the Demaree name now, is a street by the name. Several families would call the Demaree House home throughout the years. Generation after generation ran the halls, giving the home a taste of each American era. The community valued the home as a landmark, and as symbol of House Springs history.

The Demaree House c. 2017, via Historical Barnhart/Imperial and Surrounding Areas on Facebook

Although the home was a pride of many, its triumphant era did eventually come to an end. Vacancy took its toll on the old architecture. John Warmbrodt says on Facebook: “I think during the decade of the 1980's that old house started deteriorating due to neglect. By the 1990's it needed a new roof and painting. Then major deterioration and rotting occurred after 2000. The present owner who had it torn down was not responsible for this.” This most recent owner is a man by the name of Brad Bruce, who faced backlash on the condition of the home while in his ownership. However, Bruce did make an effort to put the home in the right hands. He told the St Louis Post-Dispatch in 2017 that he was open to selling the property to someone who could preserve the home, and move it to another location.

Despite Bruce's efforts, the hopes of finding the right buyer were not fruitful. The house was declining quickly, causing major hazards. It was in October of 2017, that Brad Bruce reluctantly made the decision to demolish the home. This came with great sadness, and criticism from the House Springs residents. “I passed that house everyday on my way to work, it's sad not to see it anymore.” says Aaron Lunsford on Facebook. Though, there would soon be a glimmer of hope to ease the heartache of those who loved the home.

Demaree House being demolished, taken by Jessi Reynolds via Facebook

Bruce spoke out on his decision: "I am the current owner of this house. I purchased the home with intentions of repairing it. Through the years it has seen more neglect than the house could handle. The bottom had unevenly settled and was causing the floors and walls to buckle. Combined with water damage from a leaking roof the house was too far gone for repair. The house is currently being demolished, however the logs are being saved so that they can be inspected and if possible, used to rebuild the structure. I am glad to read that there are so many people in town concerned about the house, because I am concerned as well. I grew up in House Springs and l know how important this house is to the history of the area. It was not simply torn down "in the name of progress." It was a difficult decision for us to make. It was torn down because it was not only beyond repair, but also a safety concern." Jim Davis says: “I had to take it down but they tagged every log of the cabin to put it back up somewhere, so people need to thank Brad Bruce because he took great care to save as much as possible.”

As of October 2021, we still don't know the future of the Demaree house. However we hold out hope that the structure will be rebuilt in an environment where it will receive the best care. Bruce's choice to preserve the logs is a huge win for historic preservation. Though the corner in House Springs where the pioneer homestead once stood is now barren, it isn't the end of the road for the Demaree house. It isn't often these structures get a second chance. We lose more and more of these treasures to demolition all the time, so if restoration isn't an option, deconstruction with the intention to preserve is the next best thing. I am very eager to see what the future holds for this relic. Until then, we will reflect on its time watching over House Springs.

The Demaree House

1837 - 2017

Thank you all for reading once again, I would love to hear your thoughts on the new series. If you have any places you would like to see in this series, feel free to let me know! I am now publishing a new article every Friday at 9:00 AM, so be sure to tune in to see our topic each week.

Until next time,

Jennie

Greenville's Unknown Soldier | Landmark Landing

 

Grave of unknown soldier in Greenville, Missouri, taken by Jennie Moore

     Deep in the hills of southeast Missouri, lies a mystery that thousands unknowingly pass by everyday. Under the shade of a skyscraping, generations old pine tree, lies a man who's identity has been lost to time. Although we don't know his name, we do know pieces of his story. This story has resonated with the citizens around, who then came together to protect and pay respects to him and his sacrifice. 

     Just a few hundred feet from the northbound lanes of US Highway 67, about 3 and 1/2 miles from Greenville, the unknown man rests. Here he has his own piece of serenity, called the Lonesome Pine Memorial. Where he lay, sits a raw granite stone with a plaque that reads "Unknown US Soldier, Civil War". Nearby, a flagpole with the stars and stripes flies proudly in the breeze. A sidewalk leads from a small parking area, to a lookout point of the grave, shown in the photo above. The grave and surrounding area are maintained by Wappapello Eagles 4066, Piedmont Eagles 4227, Wayne County Eagles 4187, VFW Post 3416, and American Legion Post 281. They have done a fantastic job upkeeping, and upgrading the memorial. 

Grave of unknown soldier, taken by Jennie Moore

     When I first caught wind of this man, my first thought was "What do we know about him?", and the truth is, not much. Regardless of not knowing even the most basic details of the soldier's personal identity, we do know enough to conclude his heroic identity. 

     The first confirmed reports of the unknown soldier and his gravesite appear in 1917-18, when Highway 23, now US Highway 67, was being constructed. (The next account is vital to the story, but does vaguely describe the discovery of the grave. This may disturb some audiences. Feel free to skip to the next paragraph.) Jeff Garner says on Facebook, "My Grandfather, Charles Franklin Gibbons (born 1901) was working on that highway about that same time. His dad, Joseph T. (Gibbons) was one of the supervisors as I remember the story, and they had their MO mule teams. My grandfather was driving a team when the head mule fell in a giant hole. They had to unhook the mule and get him out of the hole. When they did, they discovered he'd fallen into a grave. My grandfather took the shovel and lifted up the legs. He said it was a Civil War soldier unknown. The uniform cloth and buttons were still visible. He said the mule team was straddling a young pine tree, and they left it as a marker as to where the grave was. They moved the road bed over a few yards to avoid the grave, and kept up their work. So, my grandfather discovered the grave at the Lonesome Pine Memorial on Highway 67. I am fairly certain he said it was a blue uniform of a Union soldier." 

     A cousin of Jeff's, Jim Gibbons says, "I heard much of the same story, and was told it was state route 23 at the time. Dad said Grandpa (Joseph Gibbons) was working off his property taxes by supervising the road work. When Highway 67 was widened some time in the 1950's the grave would have been on the right of way and was not marked on the maps. Dad told one of the state engineers (Charles Ellinghouse Jr.) about the grave and where it was. They moved the new road over and built the rock embankment around it."

     The Historical Wayne County, Missouri Facebook page added some of their thoughts on the topic. “I believe there are probably 2 other soldiers there as well. There was a skirmish in Greenville during the war. 5 Confederates were killed and 3 Union. The Confederates were buried in town, and presently marked. The Union were camped on the south side of the river out of town. Those 3 Union soldiers had to be buried somewhere in the vicinity. Yes the 5 Confederate are at Old Greenville. It’s my belief the 3 Union are at this site."

     

     I found this theory of Historical Wayne County, Missouri's very interesting, and very plausible. According to reputable sources, there were two skirmishes at Greenville, just six days apart from one another. The first took place on July 20th, 1862 when Confederate forces arrived in Greenville. Also in Greenville, was a Union camp occupied by the Twelfth Missouri State Militia Calvary Companies B and G. Upon learning of this camp, the Confederates carried out a surprise attack as daylight broke. This resulted in a Union loss, forcing them to retreat. The Confederates made off with most of their rifles, 16 Savage revolvers, 50 pairs of holster pistols, and all of their horses. Four were killed, and five were wounded. 

     Two men present during the attack spoke on the event soon after. E. Francis, First Lieutenant Company B, Twelfth Regiment Cav., Mo. S. M. says, "Leeper's brother came in from Black River and reported that Deas and Reeves, or a part of their bands, had been and took some horses from him. They belonged to the same party that attacked the camp next morning. There had been guards on the east side of the camp, but were withdrawn after Major Lazear left. I know of no other cause for the guard being withdrawn than the confidence of the commanding officer that he could whip 500 men. I think that if the camp had been guarded as it should have been, and as there were men sufficient to have guarded it, that we could not have been surprised and could have whipped the rebels. The attack came from the southeast side of the camp. If a guard had been where it usually was I do not think a body of men could have passed them without being seen. There were over 100 men in camp at that time, but I cannot remember exactly the number reported."

October 29th, 1862 copy of New York Times newspaper

Sergt. James M. L. Jamieson, of lawful age, being sworn, says, "I reside in Saint Francis County, Missouri. Am now first Sergeant of Company B, Twelfth Regiment Cavalry, Missouri State Militia, commanded by Captain William T. Leeper. I was in camp near Greenville, Mo., on the morning of July 20, at the time the attack was made on said camp. I was in camp all the night before. On the night before the attack there were 3 pickets between the camp and town at the spring, and 3 on the Fredericktown road, up the river from the camp. The first 3 were on the river below the camp, and 3 camp guards and 1 corporal. This was all the guards that I have any knowledge of being out that night. These were the only guards we had out after Major Lazear left the camp, or at least there were no others out that night or the night before. I think Major Lazear left the camp some time between July 10 and 20. Some few days before the camp was attacked Captain Leeper said to me that we would have to keep a sharp lookout, for that we would be attacked, for they knew our strength, and that would be the place they would attack. I don't think a proper guard was kept at that point. There were at that time considerably over 100 men in camp."

 

     The second skirmish took place on July 26th, 1862, however, I could not find as many details on the matter. We do know that the skirmish involved the Third and Twelfth Missouri State Militia Calvary. It was another Union loss, with two more men killed, and six wounded.

     The chances of the unknown soldier being one of these Union casualties, is fairly high. If that is the case, we can add another piece to the puzzle, as we know which regiments, even down to the possible company, he may have belonged to. We can imagine what life would have been like for the unknown soldier, by analyzing the lives of men in the Union Army during this time. 

     Another reason I believe may contribute to the lack of information on the identity and burial of the soldier (along with the other unaccounted for Union casualties) is the poor luck of the Wayne County Courthouse in Greenville. In 1866, records were stolen from the courthouse, and never recovered. Then on December 14th, 1892, a fire broke out, destroying a portion of the records. Perhaps any documentation containing the names, burials, or acknowledgements of the unknown soldier were lost during these events.

Myself leaving a flower arrangement at the grave, photographed by Colleen Gallagher

     Even with the information we do have, it tends to leave us with more questions than answers. We may never know the true identity of the unknown soldier, but that isn't a requirement when preserving his memory. His identity, or lack of thereof, doesn't subtract from the sacrifice he made. Our soldier is one who left behind all he had, to fight for unity, and a better future for the United States. He may have wondered as he passed that day if what he had done was worth the hardship, or if his one life made a difference. I hope he is able to watch the visitors pay their respects, and thank him, to answer that question. Even without a name, or details of his life, he brings our community together 160 years later. That is a true hero.

     Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed. This article was a bit different than my past work, because it involves a bit more hypothesis opposed to solid facts. Though this site spoke to me, and I knew I had to write a piece on it. I feel it is worth sharing, regardless of what we are missing. If you are interested in visiting the Lonesome Pine Memorial, I will leave the directions below! 

     Directions: If you are traveling south on Highway 67, you will have to drive about a mile past the site and then return on the north bound lanes to access it. You will see the large pine tree in the clearing before you reach the right turn. Parking is available at the site. 

     Coordinates:  37°5'37"N   90°27'23"W

  

Until next time,

Jennie

Kingston Ford Bridge | Abandoned

 

Kingston Ford Bridge in 2021, taken by Jennie Moore

     Hello everyone, and welcome back to the blog! I am so eager to be writing again, and cannot thank you all enough for your patience during my little hiatus. During this time, I have been working hard to better the blog, and form my future plans for it. I am looking forward to bringing my readers higher quality, and more consistent content. I truly hope you enjoy what is to come, as I couldn't do any of this without your support. Each of you help form the backbone of The Diary of Jukebox Jennie. Thank you for fueling my dreams. With that being said, let's get into today's article!

     This is article is the first installment of a new series on the blog, called "Abandoned"! In this series I will share my favorite, and most interesting abandoned locations. When brainstorming ideas for this series, I stumbled across the Kingston Ford Bridge, and knew I had to write on it. 

     The Kingston Ford Bridge is located on the Washington and Jefferson County line in Missouri, bordering Washington State Park. Although left to mother nature now, this bridge has lived a heroic life. Being built in 1885-86 at Lemay Ferry by the St. Louis Bridge and Iron Co., it was moved to it's present day location in 1917. It served it's people for 112 years, making it one of the longest continually used bridges in the state. It carried car after car over Big River, until 1998, when the Missouri Department of Transportation deemed the structure unfit for further service.

     This type of bridge is called a closed truss. This particular bridge is a pin-connected, 8-panel Pratt through truss. Intact bridges of this era and style are constantly dwindling, with more being demolished all the time. Upon seeing one of this age still standing, I immediately planned my trip. The Kingston Ford Bridge was actually one of a pair, with another of it's kind crossing a nearby creek on the Jefferson County side. This second bridge was called the Kingston Slough Bridge, but no longer exists today. 

Kingston Ford Bridge in 2021, taken by Jennie Moore

      

     In the photo above, you are viewing the deck of the bridge in October of 2021. From what I observed, my guess is that the bridge was never paved, and kept it's wood plank deck until it's closure. Today, the deck is heavily deteriorated. Where the shade casts over the wood most of the time, the locked-in moisture has created the perfect environment for a thriving ecosystem. Grass, moss, and other plant life grows on the planks, as bugs and other small animals feed and burrow. You can easily see where these spots are, as the wood has decomposed the most, with some planks missing all together. 

     The rusted metal has a burnt orange color, which the sunset complimented beautifully. The thin rails that line the length of the bridge have become wavy over time, and the overall structure has gained a slight tilt. However when reflecting on the fact that this bridge was first assembled 136 years ago, and has been left untouched for 23, volumes are spoken about the craftmanship of the St. Louis Bridge and Iron Co. They used the best of workers, designers, and materials to create a structure that after a century of wear and tear, and decades of abandonment, still stands today. 

Abandoned cabin just before bridge, taken by Jennie Moore

     The road that once passed over the Kingston Ford Bridge was a well used one, seeing much traffic as the area was being developed by settlers in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. As we walked along the former road within Washington State Park, my father noticed an old cabin in the valley below. It appears to me very old, abandoned, and not one of the park's rentals. I of course had to stop and take a few snapshots of it.

     On the other side of the bridge, present day Big River Heights Road, there are more signs of a historic past. Immediately after crossing, lies a former park, (now privately owned) with a sign reading that it was established in 1907. The equipment and pavilion still rest as if paused in time, like it's large iron truss neighbor. I can't help but imagine the children playing, as they watched the cars cross over the river. 

     As I draw this article to a close, I would like to remind fellow curious minds that I take photos as a part of my living, and take safety and respect very seriously. If you would like to visit the Kingston Ford Bridge, I hope you will consider my suggestions. 

     First, the access point of the bridge is crucial. I ask that you approach the bridge from within Washington State Park, and not Big River Heights Road. This is because if accessed by Big River Heights Road, it would require you to trespass, which I do not condone. We only came this way as a first attempt, as I was going off of maps to try to reach the bridge, and chose the Big River Heights Road side due to it having better road channels. Though upon arrival, found that the property surrounding the bridge, is private. There are several "No Trespassing" signs on the property, including around the former park mentioned earlier. We then found our access point on the other side, off of Dug Out Road in Washington State Park. It is legal to access the bridge from here, and rather easy as well. 

     Secondly, it is important to note that the bridge is no longer structurally sound. It is critical that you do not venture out onto the bridge. You may walk to the metal barricade, but I plead that you do not cross it. You will be able to get good photos from behind the barricade, and even the best photos are not worth risking major injury, or even your life.

     Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I would love to hear your feedback on the new series, along with your suggestions on places you would like me to photograph and write about. 

Until next time,

Jennie