Showing posts with label Iowa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iowa. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Klinger Store, Readlyn, Iowa

By Joann M. Ringelstetter

Five years ago, in June, we spent three days photographing on the backroads and in the small towns of a dozen counties in northeastern Iowa. On the morning of the third day, we took a few photos in the small town of Readlyn and then headed to an old general store. Klinger Store sits at a country crossroads about five minutes south of Readlyn. The main road past the front of the store was paved, but the road crossing it was gravel.


There was nothing fancy about the outside. In fact, the only things pointing to it being a store were the modern Pepsi machine on the porch of the store and a small hand-painted sign above the porch saying, “Klinger Store.” This store is truly an old-fashioned general store, sparsely stocked with necessities and a few non-essential things. One set of shelves held baking ingredients, charcoal, and paper towels. Across the aisle were light bulbs, batteries, and leather gloves. At the end of the aisle in the back of the store sat a small supply of paint, and some garden hoses. Hanging on the wall above the back door were replacement shovel handles.




In the middle of the store was a deli case with meat and cheese. On top of the deli case were cans of Pik-Nik shoestring potatoes and a basket of yellow onions. Beside the case was a scale and behind the case was a meat slicer and a rack with rolls of butcher paper. Above the deli case was a wooden sign that listed, on the left side, the meats and cheeses that were available:

Cold Meats:
Cooked Ham $4.25/lb
Jumbo S S KRMR All Beef $5.50/lb
(There was a sign below the board that said Kramer’s German Brand Beef Summer Sausage)

Cheese:
Mini Horn and Long Horn $4.75/lb
Hot Pepper $4.50/lb
Swiss-Amer $4.40/lb
Salami $4.50/lb
American $4.25/lb
C Jack $4.75/lb
Caraway $4.50/lb

On the right side of the board, it said “Misc Items” and three kinds of water softener salt were listed below. The prices seemed very reasonable to me.


As I walked the old wooden floor towards the back of the store, which was dedicated to hardware, there were boxes and bins of nuts and bolts, screws, electrical supplies, and other hardware items next to the canned goods and below the cleaning supplies. Beyond that were galvanized pails and funnels, heavy-duty electrical cords hanging from the ceiling, a stand of Redi-Bolt steel rods, and a red tie-down strap suspended from the shelf. Hanging on the back wall were putty knives, clamps, ropes, and chains. A 6-foot step-ladder leaned in front of the merchandise.


One wall of the store was filled with shelves that held blue jeans and bib overalls. On a nearby rack were three T-shirts, two plaid long-sleeved shirts, and a yellow raincoat.


There was also an area devoted to shoes, boots, and work gloves. Packages of Hanes underwear were around the corner.


Klinger Store is owned and operated by Arlin and Patricia Poock, who seemed quiet but friendly, and they were gracious enough to allow me to take some photos of their store. As I walked around the store, I chatted with the Poocks. Arlin told me that the building was built in 1888 and that his grandfather had originally purchased the store. According to obituaries posted on the Find A Grave website, his maternal grandfather, Jacob Herman, operated the store from 1909 until 1916, and in 1946, his father, Theodore Poock, purchased the store and ran it until his unexpected death in 1959. The following year, Arlin, who had worked for his father since graduating from high school in 1947, purchased the store and he and his wife have run it ever since. In the black and white photo below, Arlin and Patricia stand behind the deli case discussing the day’s business.


In 2010, the owner of Burmester’s Grocery in Loganville, Wisconsin had told me that he was trying to keep his store open, but suppliers didn’t want to deal with him because his store was too small. So I asked Arlin and Patricia if they struggled with the same issues. They told me it was a major struggle to get suppliers to work with them. Most suppliers wanted a huge minimum order every month or they weren’t willing to do business. And even the suppliers who were driving past on their way to larger stores weren’t willing to make a stop at Klinger Store.


This struggle to stock merchandise was evidenced by the sparse offerings at the store and by the number of refrigerated cases that were sitting empty. They also face the struggles of limited clientele. As I walked past one large refrigerated case, the contents made me stop and think about how much I take for granted every day. The dairy options consisted of one gallon of 2% milk and one half-gallon of chocolate milk, four packages of cream cheese, two packages of cheese slices, a couple pounds of real butter, two kinds of butter substitutes, and a box of Velveeta processed cheese. The produce options consisted of two heads of iceberg lettuce, one head of cabbage, three bags of carrots, and a few Red Delicious apples.


As far as I can tell, Arlin and Patricia are still in business and still managing to keep Klinger Store open. When you’re out and about in the small rural communities of our country and you pass an old general store, please stop in and support these hard-working folks. You might just come away with a newfound appreciation for what you have.


Happy Shunpiking!
Joann

Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Street Running

By Joann M. Ringelstetter

Last June, we took a two-day trip to our neighboring state of Iowa. We spent the first day photographing farms in the Dubuque area, which were on the Iowa Barn Foundation’s spring tour. The area along the Mississippi River is one of our favorite places to photograph, with its rolling hills and verdant valleys. We started our second day in the St. Donatus area, which we will cover in a future blog post.


After spending the entire morning near St. Donatus, we headed to the beautiful small town of Bellevue, which is situated along the Mississippi River. The main reason for our visit there was to capture some photos of the railroad tracks that run down the center of the street, with one lane of traffic on each side of the tracks.


After locating the tracks and a place with historic buildings to add to the ambiance of the photos, I parked the car alongside the tracks and took my equipment out of the car. It had been raining on and off for the past hour and a big black cloud loomed overhead.


After hurrying to capture several photos of the tracks, I began to focus on a large two-story limestone building that was on the corner near where we had parked. It was a beautiful building with large doors on the front of both floors of the building.


Beside the building, near the corner, was a stop sign and railroad crossing sign. A smaller sign at the bottom of the stop sign said, “STOP – LOOK – LISTEN – BEWARE OF TRAINS.”


On the side of the building opposite the corner, there were two attached buildings that were both very interesting. The largest one was sided with pressed tin and the smaller one was tile. I only wish I could figure out the purpose of each of these buildings from long ago.


As I stood there wondering about these buildings, I heard a train whistle in the distance. So, I turned my tripod around and hurried to point my camera lens down the tracks. The train was moving very quickly.


As the train approached the corner where I was standing, the engineer blew the whistle, which was ear-splitting. And the train was moving so quickly that I only had time to capture two photos of the diesel engine.


As Ruth sat in the car and I stood beside the tracks, the ground shook and the wheels bumped, squeaked, and squealed along the tracks. We should have counted the freight cars because they continued to pass by us for a very long time.


At the time, I didn’t know what the term was for this type of railroad track. So, I needed to do a little research before writing this blog. According to Wikipedia, “On-street running or street running is the routing of a railroad track or tramway track running directly along public streets, without any grade separation. The rails are embedded in the roadway, and the train shares the street with pedestrians and automobile traffic.”


As I reviewed my photos to put together this blog post, I lamented the fact that I didn’t take a short video of this interesting experience. And then Ruth reminded me that I didn’t do that because I was too busy plugging my ears to avoid hearing loss. My hearing is one of my most precious possessions, so I guess it’s okay that I ended up with my hearing intact rather than a video!


Happy Shunpiking!
Joann

Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Motor Mill Historic Site

By Joann M. Ringelstetter

On April 28, 1868, according to an entry in the journal of James O. Crosby, a cable car containing 3-5 tons of quarried limestone creaked and bounced along a set of wooden rails as it was lowered from the top of the bluff to the banks of the Turkey River. As it moved slowly down the side of the bluff, an empty cable car was pulled back up to the top.


Crosby was an attorney and surveyor who platted the once-thriving town of Motor in the northeast corner of Iowa, along with starting a school and attempting to establish a post office. He was also a quarter owner of a six-story limestone grist/flour mill, known as Motor Mill, and a construction engineer during the building of the mill.


The mill was built beside the Turkey River with the limestone that was quarried on top of the bluff. German stonemasons were hired from surrounding towns to dress the stones, cutting them into suitable sizes and surfaces. Then the stones were layered to create foundation walls that were five feet thick. Locally harvested oak trees were used to create enormous support beams. When the walls were complete, they towered 90 feet above the banks of the river.


Operations began at the mill in the fall of 1869. They ground barley, oats, and rye for livestock feed, corn for cornmeal, and wheat for flour. Motor Mill was soon very successful, so other buildings were built to support this thriving business. A limestone cooperage was built near the mill where wooden barrels were made to store and ship flour and corn meal.


A limestone inn was built, just down the road from the mill. It was used by travelers and workers. It also served farmers who came to have their grain ground at the mill.


Next to the inn, a stone livery stable was built to care for the horses of the people staying at the inn.


On the other side of the inn, a limestone ice house was built to store ice blocks that were harvested each winter from the Turkey River. The ice blocks were used in the warmer months to refrigerate food.


In 1899, a Pratt Through Truss steel bridge was built across the Turkey River between the mill and the cooperage. It replaced the original high-sided wooden bridge that was built in 1868.


Despite the booming start to this historic mill and the town of Motor, the mill closed after only 14 years of operation. The closure was caused by several catastrophic events. Cinch bugs and droughts destroyed local wheat crops. Farmers began switching from wheat to corn, cattle, and hogs. The construction of a narrow-gauge railroad, which would have eased the transportation of raw materials and products, was never completed due to flooding, which also damaged the dam. And, worst of all, there was friction and disagreement among the mill owners.


In 1903, the Motor Mill property and buildings were purchased by the Louis Klink family, who converted it to a farm. They removed the milling equipment and some of the flooring to make room for the storage of hay. The other buildings were also used to store hay and grain. And for a while, draft horses were stabled on the first floor of the mill.


Eventually, the livery stable was modified to serve as a dairy barn. For 80 years, the Klink family farmed the Motor Mill site. In 1977, recognizing the historical significance of the site, they nominated it for the National Register of Historic Places. In 1983, the Klink family sold the buildings and 100 acres to Clayton County. In 1992, the county acquired another 55 acres.


In 2004, the Motor Mill Foundation was created, with a mission “to protect and preserve the architectural integrity, history, natural beauty and serenity of the Motor Mill site and its surroundings.” Motor Mill Historic Site is open year-round. However, the buildings are open only for tours and special events.


In the fall of 2019, Motor Mill Historic Site celebrated its 150th anniversary. If you ever get the chance to visit, you won’t be disappointed!

Happy Shunpiking!
Joann

Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!



Sunday, August 25, 2019

Curses, Foiled!

By Ruth A. Ringelstetter

My plan for the first day of our 2015 spring photography trip was to be in Galena, Illinois, at dawn. We’ve told you about eating out of the cooler but never about what it takes to get that all ready. When we have pasta, potato, or fruit salads, those are not store-bought. Everything is made or prepped by one of us, including our snacks.

So, the night before we were to leave, Joann called and said maybe we should leave home around dawn rather than try to be somewhere more than an hour and a half away at first light. That worked for me because we were both exhausted from packing and preparation. I crossed Galena off my plans, so the first thing we captured after entering Illinois was this wonderful old lumber yard building.


So often, especially on these long trips, we leave very early and drive for long distances in the dark. On this day, we had an opportunity to see things and photograph things we normally do not.

Sometimes, a day of photography has a theme. We’ll get in an area and almost every stop is a church and cemetery, or maybe it’s a day of almost all schools. On the morning of this trip, we ended up being foiled by a train. I had no idea it was going to be a theme for the trip!


We passed this BNSF train coming down the tracks as we approached Savanna, Illinois. Our plans were to capture the old Savanna-Sabula Bridge. When we saw the bridge from a good location, Joann pulled onto the shoulder and parked. She got her equipment out and snapped a photo of the train coming down the tracks. It seemed to be traveling slower than normal and we figured that was because it was nearing town. But it continued slowing down until it was idling on the tracks, blocking our perfect view of the bridge before Joann could get any shots. Curses, foiled!

We didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to photograph this historic bridge, so we waited a very long time until the train finally moved on.


The rest of the first day was filled with a variety of subjects, including the historic Ryan Round Barn in Henry County, Illinois. Today, it sits in the Johnson-Sauk Trail State Park. It was built in 1910 for Dr. Laurence Ryan, a world-renowned brain surgeon in Chicago, for his Black Angus show cattle. It has been on the National Register of Historic Places since 1974.


We started Day Two in Burlington, Iowa, and we managed to get through the whole morning without running into any trains. We heard them around town, but the closest we came was this BNSF Lift Bridge over the Mississippi River. When river traffic needs to pass, trains are paused on the tracks while one section (or span) of the bridge is raised using towers and counterweights (almost like an elevator) to make room for the river traffic to pass under it.


We photographed many locations downtown, including the beautifully restored
Capitol Theater. This 1937 Art Deco theater opened on July 1, 1937 during the Great Depression, offering hope to the people of Burlington. Movie admission was 36 cents for adults and 10 cents for children. After nearly 40 years, the theater closed in 1977. Fortunately, it survived demolition for the next 35 years, re-opening in 2012 as a movie and live performance theater after a major renovation project was completed. It is on the National Register of Historic Places.


As we finished up in Burlington, I decided our best bet was to just cruise a short distance down the highway to Fort Madison. Our plans for the day were huge, and we had to keep moving. We came down the highway from the north, and almost everything I knew about was in downtown, which runs along the river.

And this is where the foiling really began. One of the first things Joann attempted to photograph was Old Fort Madison from across the railroad tracks so that she could capture all the buildings that make up the fort. Just as she was lining up her shot, a train came down the tracks and stopped, blocking our view of the fort. Curses, foiled again!


Luckily, the historic downtown, which is on the side of the tracks away from the river, had quite a few things for us to photograph, so we began searching for those subjects. We captured photos of an old bank, a historic jail, some vintage signs, a carriage house, a prayer chapel, and a couple of brick summer kitchens. (A summer kitchen, for those who don’t know, is a small building separate from the main house where cooking and canning could be done in the summer months to avoid heating up the main house.)

All the while, though, we kept circling around checking to see if we could get to those things on the side of the railroad tracks by the river. Here’s a photo of one of the brick summer kitchens.


Finally, the train tracks were empty and there was a clear view of Old Fort Madison. Historic Old Fort Madison was the first U.S. military outpost in the upper Mississippi region. From 1808 to 1813, the fort acted as a trading post between the US Army and Native Americans. It was the site of Chief Blackhawk's first battle against U.S. troops, making it the only real War of 1812 battlefield located in the state of Iowa and the first U.S. military cemetery in the upper Midwest. This replica of the original fort was built a few blocks away from the original site and serves as a museum.


And at long last, we were able to cross the tracks to get some pictures of the Fort Madison Toll Bridge over the Mississippi. Built in 1927, this toll double-decker through truss swing bridge is also known as the Santa Fe Swing Span Bridge. It carries the Great River Road traffic over the Mississippi River, with road traffic occupying the upper deck and rail traffic on the lower deck. Unlike a lift bridge, a swing bridge has a section (or span) that rotates, usually 90 degrees, to allow river traffic to pass by.


This historic bridge is currently owned by BNSF Railway and Amtrak’s Southwest Chief also uses the bridge. River traffic has the right of way, so the 525-foot swing span opens about 2,000 times annually for 15-20 minutes at a time for river traffic. And I’ll bet you can guess what happened next. A train came barreling across the bridge, stopping on the tracks in front of the park, which blocked our exit. Curses, foiled by a train for a third time.


Little did I know at that time, about 100 trains pass through Fort Madison on any given day. And they idle on the tracks sometimes before crossing the toll bridge and sometimes after. It’s no wonder trains kept foiling us. As soon as we could get out of the park, we got in line to cross the bridge and continue on our way. Luckily, as we traveled away from the Mississippi River, we managed to avoid train issues for the rest of the trip.

Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth

Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!

Sunday, August 11, 2019

A Horse is a Horse

By Joann M. Ringelstetter

When we were kids, there was a sitcom on TV about a talking horse named Mister Ed. The show, appropriately called “Mister Ed,” aired from 1961 to 1966. There was a total of 143 episodes, all filmed in black and white. Mister Ed was owned by mild-mannered Wilbur Post, who was always in trouble due to Mister Ed’s shenanigans.


The show always started with Mister Ed whinnying, then pushing open the barn doors and looking out at the audience as he said in his deep voice, “Hello! I’m Mister Ed!” And then as the theme music started to play, two big horseshoes appeared superimposed over Mister Ed and, as they clinked together, they turned into the letters “ED” with the word “MISTER” above them.


The theme song was written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans, with Livingston doing the singing. It went like this:

A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to a horse, of course.
That is, of course, unless the horse
Is the famous Mister Ed.


Every episode had Mister Ed doing some very silly things, like talking on the telephone. Wilbur was an architect who had his office in the barn. In one episode, Mister Ed is alone in his stall when Wilbur’s phone starts ringing, so he picks it up.

Mister Ed: Hello?

Voice: Hello, I’d like to make a reservation. Is this Trans Continental Airlines?

Mister Ed: No, lady, this is the Pony Express!


In another episode, Wilbur moves the telephone away from Mister Ed.

Wilbur: You phoned the feed store again, didn’t you, Ed? I thought I told you that I was the one to give the orders around here. Ya know, that’s the fourth load of hay we’ve had delivered this week.

Mister Ed (talking while chewing a mouthful of hay): Well, I’m hungry!

Wilbur: How come other horses don’t eat as much as you do?

Mister Ed: ‘Cause they can’t phone the feed store.


The show was sponsored from 1961 to 1963 by the Studebaker Corporation and the show often featured Studebaker cars. Despite the exposure they got by sponsoring this sitcom, their sales dropped dramatically in 1961. They never recovered and U.S. production of the Studebaker was ended in December 1963.


Allan “Rocky” Lane, a former B-movie cowboy star, provided the voice for this funny, talking horse. Mister Ed was a palomino whose real name was Bamboo Harvester. He had a stunt double named Pumpkin who later appeared in the sitcom “Green Acres.” Bamboo Harvester (Mister Ed) died in 1970. He was about 20 years old. He is buried at Snodgrass Farm in Oklahoma.


Happy Shunpiking!
Joann

Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!