Taken sometime in the early 80’s? My desk at KBOA (Kennett MO). Manual typewriter instead of computer; rotary dial phone; 45rpm records in the shelves behind me; paper desk calendar; bulletin board; cassette tape.
Tag Archives: kennett
Winchester Cathedral
My first brush with hot air ballooning was in 1979. An advertiser (McCaul Tire and Appliance) for the station I worked at had a big promotion that included a hot air balloon. Someone decided it would be fun to broadcast live from the balloon so we held a contest and the winner (Keith Williams) got to go along for the ride. [First 3 photos below]
A year later I hired the same crew as an anniversary present for Barb (and me). Barb and took a flight on beautiful October morning. From a mile up we could see the Mississippi River in the distance. We also did some tethered flights for our friends, which included a champaign christening for first-timers.
KBOA (1976)
Don and Suzy at The Shilo Lounge
Don and Suzy Akers performing with their band, Scandal, at the Shilo Lounge in Kennett, Missouri. July 1981
The Last Execution in Dunklin County, MO (1937)
The following account is from Tom, Son of Ben – Life and Times of Ben Cash, by Tom Cash and used here with his permission. According to Mr. Cash, these descriptions were from eye witnesses, the Daily Dunklin Democrat, Glen Brogden and John Steward.
“My father was sales manager for Ben F. Jones Chevrolet dealership directly across the street from the county jail. “Ringworm” Barton, the wrecker driver, was a buddy who took me up on the roof of the garage to watch. We climbed up a ladder at the back. On reaching the front I found many others already up there plus the street was packed with people.The tension increased as 8:00 a.m. approached. Kennett Street was lined from Julius Kahn’s Department Store to Second Street. Glen Brogden was just fifteen at the time. He said, “I didn’t leave the store but watched as all the stores, shops and roof tops on the south side of the square filled with the curious. Many of the owners were fearful their roofs would collapse. It was impossible for them to see a full block away but no matter, they could always say they were “there.”
From my vantage point it was only possible to see the top of the scaffold over the newly erected 10 foot board fence. When they brought out Adams we could only see the top of his head. I watched as a hood and rope were placed over his head and seconds later he disappeared.
Mr. Dewey Miles, the sheriff, was a friend of my father, so Dad had one of the inside tickets. An even those and were passed out to friends of Mr. Miles. Dad told me he had visited Adams in jail but I am unaware if he signed the petition to stop the hanging.
Shortly after the trap door was sprung the sheriff appeared at the front door. His deputies parted the crowd as he ran to his car, parked and running in the street. He quickly entered it without saying a word and disappeared in a cloud of dust. Friends say it was the hardest job he ever had but went with the job as sheriff.
Along with the description above, Tom Cash included a photocopy of the following newspaper article. There is no indication in which newspaper the article appeared. The first paragraph appears to be an account of the crime for which Adams was executed. The remainder, an account of the hanging. Given that the photograph of Fred Adams (above) appeared in the St. Louis Star-Times, my best guess is that is the source of this story as well.
“Fred Adams, 22-year-old Rector, Ark., youth who was hanged at 8:05 a.m. Friday on a scaffold constructed at the north side of the jail, for the murder of Night Marshall Clarence Green at Campbell on the night of March 28, 1934. Adams had been given four reprieves prior to his execution which was originally set for December 18, 1936. This picture was made at the jail in Kennett about six weeks ago.” [Picture and caption from the St. Louis Star-Times]
When the trio was interrupted by Night Marshal Green, Marshal Rodney Brown and Constable Harry Weeks, they left, running through a wooded grove at the rear of the station. Green and Brown gave chase and as they closed in Adams fired first and Vinyard followed with a volley of shots from his shotgun.
Smoking a cigarette and with a faint smile on his lips, Fred Adams walked onto the scaffold shortly after 8 a.m. this morning, and with any public statement of any kind was hanged by Sheriff G. D. Miles, who sprung the trap.
Shortly before 8 a.m., the large enclosure at the north and west of the jail was filled, approximately 1,000 persons who had been issued official passes gathering to be present at the execution of the man who had been convicted of the killing of Night Marshall Green at Campbell on March 28, 1934.
There was a crowd of more than 1,000 persons on the outside of the enclosure, anxiously waiting to hear the last words of the condemned man, a report being current Thursday night that he intended making an extended address.
Accompanied by Sheriff Miles, Deputy Sheriffs Abner Schultz, Harry Hester, Tom Grooms and Albert Lane, Adams walked out of the jail on the north side of the building and unassisted walked up the steps leading to the scaffold.
Adams was neatly dressed with a white shirt and a colored spring tie, and wore a faded blue jacket. He was freshly shaven and his blond hair was combed straight back.
Immediately upon mounting the scaffold, Adams nodded and waved his shackled hands to certain persons in the crowd. Shortly thereafter Sheriff Miles opened a window on the north east side of the enclosed scaffold where Adams had a full view of the crowd which had assembled on the outside.
Sheriff Miles appeared first at the window, with Adams to his right rear, and when the sheriff saw that someone in the crowd was about to take a picture, he requested that the picture not be taken. Sensing that the picture had been taken, he then asked that the film not be developed.
Adams smiled at the crowd, and waved both his hands to the crowd, much in the manner that a wrestler or boxer waves greetings to a crowd, and without saying a word turned around and Sheriff Miles closed the window.
Immediately thereafter Miles shook hands with Adams and the business of placing the hood over the head and the strapping of his hands and his arms to his body begun and was completed in a mater of a few seconds.
As Adams stood in the center of the trap door, the trap was sprung by Sheriff Miles.
Twelve minutes later Coroner G. I. Gilmore and Doctors J. C. Cofer and J. C. Keim, declared the man dead.
Even before the trap was sprung, the crowd on the inside of the enclosure began drifting out, one by one, and as soon as the man had dropped, there was a rush for the large gate at the rear of the jail, the only entrance or exit to the large enclosure.
It was noted there were at least six women in the crowd who witnessed the hanging, and at least two small children in the arms of their fathers.
Just as soon as the man was pronounced dead, the rope was cut and attendants of the Lentz Funeral Home took charge of the body which was removed to the funeral home on St. Francis Street, where it was being embalmed at the time this paper goes to press. No funeral arrangements were announced, and an attendant at the mortuary stated that Sheriff Miles had given instructions for the body to be embalmed, and that he would give instructions for his disposal later.”
Barb rubs elbows with celebs
If you write a nice check (for a good cause) you get your picture taken with the celebrities. (Barb 2nd from the left; the lady in the middle is Pam, a high school friend).
The artists appearing with Sheryl Crow were pretty much unknown to me. I knew their fathers but haven’t followed their careers. And they play country music. “Redneck Country” in the case of Noll Billings, singer for Blackjack Billy. Looks like David Nail had a #1 song in 2012. They all have wikipedia pages if you’re curious. Blackjack Billy; Trent Tomlinson; David Nail
I assume it’s damned hard to make it in the music business so it does seem noteworthy that four kids from a small (10,000) town in southeast Missouri managed to do so well.
Buddy Shively (1948-2014)
Buddy died in his sleep last night. Heart related, I assume. From his page on The Basement Diaries:
Buddy (did we call him Shive?) always seemed more grown-up than everyone else. Sure, confident, directed. Buddy helped me get my first job in high school (at Liberty Supermarket). While the rest of us were farting away our lives during the Basement years, Buddy was building a career. He played with us but I always felt like it was the way an adult plays with a child. Another very good poker player. Here’s his first entry in The Basement Diaries:
“I remember when we first started playing poker it was for real money and for some pretty big money (for the time, at least) and then the markers started, and got worse and worse (for some reason I blame Larry Miller for starting the markers) and after a while, every time you lost some money, you dug into your wallet and picked out an appropriate IOU and used it like money. I remember once piling up all my IOU notes out of my wallet and having 50 or 60 IOU’s totaling more than two hundred dollars! Occasionally (not often) we declared an “actual cash” game and didn’t allow the IOU’s. Someone discovered that whenever Mullen was bluffing, he’d say “up a buck,” and when he had it, he’d say “up a dollar”. He lost lots of IOU’s before we told him.
What history can be complete without mention of THE BROWN DERBY. I’m talking about the original Derby across the street from the Cotton Bowl Hotel. It was run by an old man named Kirk who made a great bowl of stew and grilled delicious hamburgers. Kirk had a cute little trick where he pretended to flatten the burger patty by squeezing it in his armpit. I’ll bet no one knows his last name or what ever happened to him.
Mullen was the best at snooker… Miller was a wannabe. The best shooters at the Brown Derby were “Sudsy” Southern and Steve Reagan’s older, left-handed, red-headed brother, shooting those $5 games of nine-ball on the back table.”
Buddy correctly points out that most of the early poker games and snooker/ nine-ball games at the Brown Derby took place while we were still in high school and predate The Basement Years. These events are, however, very much in the spirit of the The Basement Diaries.
Shotgun Shack
A “shotgun house” is a narrow rectangular domestic residence, usually no more than 12 feet (3.5 m) wide, with rooms arranged one behind the other and doors at each end of the house. It was the most popular style of house in the Southern United States from the end of the American Civil War (1861–65), through the 1920s. (Wikipedia)
This is me. Taken sometime in the early ’70s? Yes, that’s a cotton field. My mom picked cotton when she was young. She said it was back-breaking work. They called them “shotgun shacks” because you could shoot a shotgun through the front door and out the back door. If memory serves, I sent this photo to Barb while she was still in college, to show her what life with me would be like.
Piano Recital (1963)
Gaylon Watson
Yesterday I drove to the little town of Piedmont, in southeast Missouri, to meet Gaylon Watson. Gaylon worked at KBOA back in the fifties and I have long wanted to meet him and capture some oral history from those early days of the station where my father and I once worked. Gaylon’s eighty now but healthy and sharp as a tack. His 28 years in broadcasting covered a lot of ground and we only captured some of it in this recording.
Gaylon’s eighty now but healthy and sharp as a tack. His 28 years in broadcasting covered a lot of ground and we only captured some of it in this recording. We had to leave some on the editing room floor because of the noisy restaurant. After lunch Gaylon gave me the “Chamber of Commerce” tour of Piedmont (where he was mayor for 16 years) and then took me to meet his three dogs who live in splendor on 20 beautiful acres in the Missouri Ozarks.