Dateline: Puxico, Missouri. 1961 or 1962

As a young boy of 4 or 5, I remember the long, long trip to my grandparents’ house in Puxico.  This was before Interstate 55 was built and before U.S. 67 was rebuilt as a four lane limited access highway.  In those days we drove out Morganford Road to Lindbergh and then out Lemay Ferry Road which became U.S. 61.  With Dad driving, mom in the passenger seat and my brother,  sister and me aggravating each other in the back seat. We would leave home before sunup and drive into Puxico about noon before the summer heat became uncomfortable in our 4-0-5 air conditioned Nash Rambler.  You remember 4-0-5 air conditioning, right? All 4 windows down and 5 miles OVER the speed limit for air circulation.

Main Street Puxico had a greasy spoon called Lams Cafe and that was our first stop almost every time.  Oh, the great hamburgers, french fries and especially the handmade malted chocolate shakes poured out of the stainless steel mixing cup into a tall chilled glass we would always get.

Mind you, this was before McDonald’s was around every corner and it was a rare and anticipated treat.  With its red and white checkered vinyl table cloths and red vinyl capped chromed stools lining  the counter the cafe was a wonder of color and smells for a hungry five year old boy. Even now nearly 60 years later, the fragrance of burgers and red onions cooking on a grill takes me back to Lams Cafe.

After a long lunch we would drive the few blocks to my grandparents’ house and begin our week-long vacation.  Their big white, wood framed house sat on a corner lot with two large maple trees in the front yard throwing shade onto the screened in front porch.  This house, in fact had three screened in porches with the main entrance through the east porch into the kitchen.  My grandparents were known to us children as “Mom” Kelley and “Papoo” Kelley.

In the house were stiff, scratchy overstuffed furniture in the living room, a pair of curved glass bookcases full of books in the hallway, a huge chifforobe in the front bedroom that housed Papoo’s hats and suits.  It seemed there was always something new or exciting for my young eyes and hands to see and touch.  The house was always prim and proper and Mom Kelley worked hard to keep it that way with three young tornadoes from St. Louis racing about.

I mentioned that this house had three porches.  I love porches! The east porch was the main entrance or exit depending on which way you were going. Up two steps from the yard and through the screen door into a ten foot wide by twenty foot long screened in and windowed mud room, laundry room, art supply, toy box storage area and homemade grape and other jams cabinet. This area was a young adventurer’s delight!  Straight across that ten foot wide porch was the door into the kitchen. 

There were two widows on either side of the door that let the morning light into the kitchen from the porch.  Mom Kelley had a collection of Carnival glass chickens, roosters, stemware, small animals just to name a few of the colorful objects that were on shelves that were built onto those windows.  The sunlight created a beautiful spectrum of colors on the kitchen floor. 

The electric stove, ice box and sink went along the north wall of the kitchen. In the Northwest corner was the door to the only bathroom. I shall never forget the smell of Ivory soap which filled that bathroom.

In the center of the kitchen was the table.  At that table we ate fish and game that dad would get while hunting or fishing that week.  I remember having squirrel, rabbit and fresh fish with garden fresh vegetables for dinner.

The one place we were not allowed to be was the west porch.  It too was enclosed by screens and windows and was of similar size to the east porch, but unlike the east porch the west porch held steamer trunks, china cabinets full of china, packed clothes and many other mysterious containers.  This was the store room of valuable treasures that I never was able to explore.

A living room, hallway, formal dining room and a total of three bedrooms made up the inside of the house, and an attic that I had no idea where the entrance was.  My favorite place in the house was the screened in front porch on the south side of the house. It was a perfect place to watch the comings and goings of people on the street and sidewalk. It too was about ten by twenty feet, with its grey painted concrete floor, three white wood slat rocking chairs, porch swing and shade from those two large maple trees; this is where the family enjoyed the evening breeze rocking in those rocking chairs.

I mentioned fresh garden vegetables earlier.  Papoo Kelley had a huge garden with string beans, dozens of tomato plants, huge onions and a large grape arbor that provided for summertime meals and enough for canning for the winter. He grew many kinds of flowers for my grandmother, including huge yellow, green, pink and blue hydrangeas .

In the yard was a small garage where I was only allowed to go in a few steps.  By the door were Papoo’s hand tools, garden tools and also the heavy wooden bats my dad and his brother used to play baseball in the 1930’s.  I saw many mementos from Papoo’s years working as a fireman on the Frisco Railroad in that garage. Old signals, lanterns, and lights hung on nails from the wall studs while pieces of rail and spikes were in full view.  This is where the wasp and mud daubers made their nest and I was warned you could find the occasional snake in or around the building. How I wished I could have spent hours in there exploring, but a[as, that was never to happen even when I was down there as a teenager.

My Grandfather took great pride in his garden which was just north of the garage.  It seemed huge to me as a five year old but was a manageable 75 feet by 50 feet flat plot where he made magic happen.  He must have had a hundred tomato plants all staked upright in four neat rows.  After dinner each evening he would take all the compostable scraps out to the garden and bury them next to several tomato plants. This would weed those plants and feed them at the same time. We must have picked a hundred tomatoes every day we were there. Mom Kelley had a place she stored them and every other week or so she would can them.  One day, one of the three of us, and I won’t say which one, was picking tomatoes with Papoo, and let out a shriek as a worm stuck out its head from the tomato, as if to say hi, while she had the tomato in her hand. That tomato went flying one way and she went racing back to the house never to pick tomatoes with Papoo Kelley again.

That particular summer the roads by my grandparents’ house were getting new river gravel poured on them and then graded by a road grader to make them smooth and even.  What a treat to watch the dump trucks and road grader work the colorful small gravel up and down the street. When the road crews were done for the day I would walk along the road and “collect” many colorful, pretty quartz rocks from the freshly graded gravel.

The Frisco Railroad had a depot in Puxico that my grandfather worked out of as a fireman or brakeman on the train.  Papoo would walk the dozen or so blocks to work each morning with his “Papoo breakfast” which was a large coffee cup with toast broken up into the cup, sausage or bacon crumbled over the toast and a  soft boiled egg mushed up on top.  He would eat that with a fork while he walked.

Once at the depot he cleaned out his cup and was ready for the coffee that seemed to be always on the stove.  One morning he took me with him to the train yard. To my great delight and lasting memory, he lifted me up into the cab of the train engine. Papoo sat on the left seat of the engine putting me in his lap.  A few minutes later and with a lot of noise the train started moving. Sitting on my grandfather’s lap high above the tracks watching the scenery go by I “helped” drive the train.  I don’t recall how far we went but it was a thrill to be up there and be with my grandad at his work.

Papoo Kelley died February 7^th, 1963 from pancreatic cancer.  The last time I saw him was at the St. Louis Missouri Pacific Railroad Hospital on Grand Avenue near what is now Interstate 44. Sometime in the late 60’s the Frisco Railroad pulled out of Puxico,  closed  the train depot. The piles of railroad ties and replacement rails were taken away and the train tracks were pulled up.  If you know where to look along Highway 51 you can tell where the tracks once were, even though there is more than 40 years of vegetation growing there.   We went back to Puxico many times after, but there was something missing and the house never seemed to have the luster it had when Papoo Kelley was there.

For more information about Puxico Missouri: http://www.puxicomo.us/Eat,-Play,-Stay/