Joplin Museum Complex Proposal Shot Down

We would be remiss if we did not mention the recent Joplin Museum Complex proposal that was defeated at the polls.

Yesterday, Joplin held its spring election and arguably the most contentious item on the ballot was Proposition A, which if passed would have created a sales tax to fund a $7 million dollar renovation of Memorial Hall to serve as the new home of the Joplin Museum Complex.  The sales tax would have indefinitely continued at a lower rate to perpetually support the museum.   The proposal was voted down.

Joplin Memorial Hall

Memorial Hall - At least for now, remaining Memorial Hall.

According to the Joplin Globe, the vote was 3,882 to 928, a four to one margin.   While we here at Historic Joplin believe that the museum complex could do with a new home, we agree with the result of the vote.  There are several reasons why.

First, it was a poor decision to spearhead a sales tax proposal during the recent recession.  Although many economists believe the country is recovering from the recent economic downturn, folks on Main Street are still feeling the pain of difficult times.  A new museum complex is the least of someone’s worries who is struggling to pay for healthcare, food, and other necessities.  Simply put, it’s hard to justify passing a new tax on people who are struggling to survive on a daily basis.

Second, the PR campaign was mediocre at best.  The Globe, which seemed to support the museum proposal, attempted to publicize both sides of the debate.  The museum, however, failed to articulate to the public why it matters.  Talking about the museum’s multi-million dollar collection of lead and zinc samples does not translate with folks.  It does not inspire passionate debate.  In the end, the museum failed to carry its message to the people, let alone sell it.

Third, the museum awkwardly proposed taking over Memorial Hall.  Why? It appears that “museum representatives” decided upon Memorial Hall and drew up plans without even consulting the public.  Some of the endorsements on its website are questionable, even dubious at best, such as the “National Cookie Cutter Historical Museum,” and the “Joplin Historical Society.” It is our understanding that the National Cookie Cutter Museum is part of the Joplin Museum Complex as is, or was, the Joplin Historical Society.  Essentially, two organizations that are part of the museum were supporting the museum proposal — isn’t that a conflict of interest?

Fourth, we here at Historic Joplin have conducted research in many of the finest archives and libraries in the world such as the Bodleian Library at Oxford; National Archives I and II in Washington, D.C.  and College Park, Maryland; the Library of Congress; the special collections of the University of Oklahoma, the University of Missouri, and the University of Arkansas; numerous state archives and county courthouses; as well as small town libraries and museums.  We can say that we have always had a pleasant experience save for interactions with the Joplin Museum Complex.

The Joplin Museum Complex does not allow members of the public access to its collections which is extremely unfortunate.  Excuses are made that the museum is simply unable to accommodate visitor requests for access to the museum’s collection.  This is unacceptable.  Dorothea B.  Hoover is rolling in her grave.  Years ago, the University of Arkansas Museum was shuttered and the multi-million dollar collection placed in storage.  Although housed in a very small space, the university museum collection is readily accessible to the public and is cared for by professional museum staff.

We cannot say the same of the Joplin Museum Complex (JMC).  The photo in the recent Globe article on the museum shows that the Joplin Museum Complex collection has not been taken care of by the museum staff.  Even if the conditions are not ideal, there is no excuse for sloppy storage methods, although the JMC staff members are not professionally trained curators or archivists.  Out of the many libraries, museums, and archives we have visited over the years, this is the first time we encountered such an unhelpful staff.  It is unacceptable that members of the public are denied access to museum collections when it is funded by taxpayer money.

So here are our suggestions for improvement:

First, the next time the Joplin Museum Complex embarks on a fundraising campaign, it must articulate its message.  Tell the public why its collections matter.  Sell it like Sam Walton sold cheap underwear back in the 1970s.

Second, the Joplin Museum Complex should get rid of collections that have nothing to do with the history of Joplin such as the Cookie Cutter collection in order to create adequate storage space.  In the museum world, this is called “deaccessioning.” Every museum will deaccession something in its lifetime, particularly items that do not fit with the museum’s mission.  Is the Cookie Cutter collection relevant to the history of Joplin? Probably not.  So get rid of it.  Focus on the real treasures in the collection.  This should alleviate some of the storage problems.

Third, please change exhibits as time and money allows.  The Joplin Museum Complex has not changed since I was in the third grade.  Consider not allowing an animal to run around the museum as they can damage and ruin museum artifacts.  No museum staff worth its salt lets live animals have free reign inside of a museum.

Joplin Union Depot

The Joplin Union Depot not long after being built.

Fourth, consider the Union Depot.  We realize it is a shell of a building.  We have read that the basement has water problems.  It is, however, an architectural jewel waiting to be reclaimed.  The Joplin Museum Complex could have gotten a lot of support from the numerous voters who want to see the Union Depot restored to its former glory.  Forget the basement.  Pour concrete in the basement for all we care.  Any architect worth his or her drawing board can come up with architectural additions that will compliment Union Depot’s fabulous design.  Incidentally, it was in the Kansas City Bottoms where Union Depot sits, where some of Joplin’s first lead mines were established.  Think of how relevant that is to the history of Joplin — what better location to preserve and explain the history of Joplin and its rough and tumble beginnings? Plus, the Joplin Museum Complex would be a hero for saving the depot.

Fifth, contemplate hiring someone to serve as museum director who has demonstrated experience in fundraising, community relations, and who preferably has a master’s degree in museum studies.

Comments? Thoughts? Let us know.

Letters to the Joplin Police Chief

In 1907, the Joplin Police Chief Myers shared some of the letters he received on a daily basis with the Joplin Globe.  The letters offer a glimpse of life in Joplin and the surrounding areas.  Some the letters he received were mundane, such as the following letter:

“Cherryvale, Kan., Oct., 21, 1907.
Joplin City Marshal, Joplin, Mo.

Will you please see and inform me if there are any girls wanted to attend to lunch counters.  If so, I can send an experienced one, and please give me the number and the price of wages.  Let me hear soon.  Respectfully,

S.A.T.”

The Globe jauntily remarked, “The chief of police has not answered the above letter because of the fact that he is not running an employment agency.  In fact, if the chief answered all of the letters of this nature he receives he would have to hire a private secretary.”

Another letter that Chief Myers received read,

“Cassville, Mo.  Oct.  22, 1907.
Chief of Police, Joplin, Mo.

Dear Sir — Will you please inform me by enclosed card if a woman by the name of Ella Hailey is in your city.  She may be working in one of your hotels.  Please phone hotels and see if she is there.  Oblige, A.C.H.”

The Globe noted that the “last letter is somewhat out of the ordinary as he addresses  the chief as ‘dear sir’ and actually says ‘oblige’ in ending his letter.  The majority of the letters simply tell the chief of what they desire him to do and let the matter pass.”

Other letters were in response to an earlier missive from a Joplin man, C.T.  Plimer, who was hunting a wife.  One woman from Platt City, Missouri, declared, “Now please understand I am not a man hunter, for I never gave this subject much thought.  I think that I will fill the bill and the description, except having the several thousand dollars.  I have some nice property here.  I have visited in Joplin and like your city very much.”

The “most amusing letter” that Chief Meyers received, according to the Globe was one from an African American man in Fort Scott, Kansas, who wrote,

City marshal, be on the lookout for a young colored woman by the name of Leatha B—-.  She is a brown skin, good looker, good hair, a pair of earrings with blue sets, and a finger ring with a blue set in it.  She might go by the name of Leatha C.  She wears a long black coat, a black hat turned up on the side with a band with a red stripe in it, a nice black dress, and a changeable silk underskirt.  I just bought them for her.  There is a young brown skin man by the name of Will Julien.  If you catch them arrest them both and lock them up until you hear from Butler or Mr.  George Julien.  If she is there and ain’t working and running the streets, make her leave town.  Yours truly, Andy B.

P.S.  — Make her come home; she ain’t got no business down there.  I have got a good home for her and she don’t want for nothing.  Make her leave town.  She left this afternoon at 3 o’clock.  Telephone back at my expense.” — Andy B.

We’re not sure if Leatha returned to Andy B.  in Fort Scott or not, but it was probably not the last time that Chief Myers received a letter from the hopeful and the lovelorn.

Source: The Joplin Globe

There were Miners, and there were Bankers

While Joplin had its first professional baseball team in the form of the Colts who became the Miners, it did not mean that others put down their gloves and bats.  One group of men who continued to play, perhaps as an amateur team, were the Joplin Bankers.  Note, the team consisted of the bare minimum to play with one man for every position.

1907 Joplin Bankers baseball team

The 1907 Joplin Bankers baseball team.

Source: The Joplin Globe

The Joplin Shadies

While Joplin did not have a professional baseball team until around 1901 / 1902 in the form of the Joplin Colts (who became the Miners), amateur teams were active and present before then.  Among them was this African American team called the Joplin Shadies.  Unfortunately for the Joplin team, on July 30, 1896, they lost to a Carthage team.

A brief score from an African American baseball team in 1896 Joplin, Missouri

A brief score from Joplin's African American baseball team in 1896.

Source: The Joplin Globe

More Trouble at the Silver Moon Saloon

In the rough and tough world of Joplin’s saloons, it seems excitement was never far away.

Henry Moon, the proprietor of the Silver Moon Saloon in August 1904, did not suffer fools.  Will Sowder was in a bad mood.  It ended, of course, with bloodshed.

Sowder, whose real name was Will Davis, was the stepson of Deputy Marshal Frank Sowder.  Perhaps Sowder felt this relationship gave him special privileges.  He had already faced arson charges earlier in the year, but was acquitted. Or maybe he just didn’t care after a night of heavy drinking with his friend Mike Ryan.  In any event, Sowder got into an argument with Moon.  Heated words were exchanged. Sowder lunged behind the bar and hit Moon.  Moon hit the floor and Sowder jumped on him.  He was in for a surprise, though, because Moon was able to draw his revolver.  With a squeeze of the trigger, Moon shot Sowder in the leg, then hit him over the head with the gun.  Sowder staggered and fell, leaving a pool of blood on the floor.

An ambulance picked Sowder up and took him to his home at the southeast corner of Fourteenth and Wall Streets.  There he received medical attention from Dr. Tyler who felt that Sowder would recover from his wounds without any problems.  Moon, however, was hauled off to the home of Justice Potter who turned Moon over to Constable Arch McDonald.  Moon bonded out after he ponied up $1500.  He refused to talk to a Joplin Globe reporter about the incident.

In the end, it was just another night in Joplin.

Source: The Joplin Globe

Big Trouble in Little Joplin II

Life is never easy for immigrants in a foreign land.  The Chinese immigrants in Joplin had to deal with much more than simply petty crime as this story reveals.

Jung Gue, owner of a laundry on West Fifth Street, was not about to let “Dirty Billy” Williams rough him up.

The shirtless Chinese immigrant, clad only in a coat and trousers, testified in police court [as rendered by a Globe reporter], “Boy name Slim Bacon bring laundry to me. I think him velly good boy. He want to change him shirt and put clean shirt on. I telly him to go in back room and he go.”

When Slim Bacon, described as a “young street urchin” who occasionally worked as a waiter in a nearby “chop suey parlor,” departed the premises, he took Jung Gue’s only shirt with him. As Jung Gue told the police judge, “When he gone I find my shirt gone. Only shirt me have. Cost two, three dollars, maybe.”

The laundryman continued, “Yesterday Slim, he come back. I look at him and he got two shirt on, one mine. I try to make him give me shirt, him velly bad. Den dis boy, he name ‘Dirty Billy,’ he hold me, grab me around like dis and Slim, he run away, and Dirty Billy, him velly bad, him pick up rock and say him will throw rock on me. I call de policeman.”

As explained by the Globe reporter, Gue and Hop Chow Lee were about to make Slim hand over the stolen shirt when “Dirty Billy” Williams “butted into the argument, held Jung until Slim had fled, and then threatened Jung with a stone. Billy very patriotically declared to the judge that he wasn’t going to let any Chink run over a white man.”

Judge Bourn, however, disagreed with Dirty Billy and fined him $3 and costs. Bourn declared, “I never knew of these Chinamen ever bothering anybody. They tend to their own business, but there is a crowd of boys around there forever bothering them, and I am going to put a stop to it.”

Bourn, according to the reporter, had patronized Gue’s laundry for five years. This prompted Dirty Billy’s attorney to declare Bourn was prejudiced, but Bourn overruled on “account of the absurdity of a man being friendly to a man who had done his laundry for five years.” Before leaving the courtroom Gue shook hands with Bourn, who bid Gue ‘good evening’ in Chinese. The Chinese immigrant crowed to the Globe reporter, “Judge Bourn him velly good man.”

As for Slim Bacon, he was declared a fugitive and was doubtlessly still clad in Jung Gue’s good shirt.

Source: The Joplin Globe

Death of a Soiled Dove

Joplin’s North End was riddled with “immoral resorts” filled with young women.  Mamie Johnson was one of many who walked the streets of Joplin.  Her life tragically came to an end at the age of thirty-three after she abandoned her husband of four years and two children and took up the profession of a scarlet woman.  But her life as a lady of the night must have worn her down, for in the end Mamie’s life was cut short by her own hand.

Mamie, whose real name was allegedly Minerva Rickey, was the daughter of a “well-to-do” farmer from the Kansas City.  At a young age she eloped with John Gordon, a young farmer, and settled down.  After four years and two children, however, Mamie left her family and strolled into Joplin and a life of vice.  Shortly before her death, she had confided to an aunt who lived in Joplin that her husband had mistreated her.  The two had reportedly divorced.

One day life was too much for Mamie to bear and she overdosed on ten cent dose of morphine.  She was discovered in her room by Frank Wilsey, a laundryman for the Empire Steam Laundry, when he dropped off a bundle of clothes at her room.  Word quickly spread throughout Joplin’s tenderloin district and “many touching scenes were witnessed as the unfortunate creatures crowded about and gazed upon the face of their dead sister.” A letter was found in her room addressed to Bessie Blair.

The text of the letter read,

Joplin, Mo.  July, 27, 1898.

Dear Friend Bessie:

I will write this for you and leave it for you.  I may not get to talk to you or see you anymore.  But my bedroom suit you can have for that fine, but give my clothes to my aunt.  That is all I want, but would like for you to come as I want to send word home.  I would like for you to see them as soon as possible, for my clothes, my trunk, and things is all I ask of you to let them have.  Well, I am satisfied and hope you will be.  Tell them to go down to the wash woman’s and give up three dollars for clothes there.  I would like to have my aunt come as soon as you get this note.

Do not think nothing as you know what caused it.  You will not be out nothing as my folks will take care of me.  I suppose you will be satisfied when you see, anyway.  You have been a friend to me and not a friend.  And I hope when the girls see this they will take warning by me.  Bessie, it is hard to do, but I cannot help it.  I hope you will be satisfied with Minnie [Mamie’s roommate] as she is a good girl, and will treat you right.  I send my love and best regards and hope you will not take a foolish idea like I have took.  Kiss them all for me.  Tell Pearl she is all right.  Time is drawing near and will have to close.

Good bye.
from your Mamie Gordon to my dear friend Bess, 1,000 kisses to all you I will go to hell tonight.

Interestingly, the letter was dictated by Mamie to her lover, Ernest Boruff, who testified at the coroner’s inquest that the two had quarreled a few weeks earlier after some of his clothes went missing.  They quarreled again after he wrote the letter for her and he subsequently left.  He claimed that he did not suspect Mamie had suicidal intent and swore that she “was not in the habit of using morphine.” Bessie Blair also testified at the coroner’s inquest and stated that Mamie had threatened suicide several times during the past month.

After Mamie Gordon’s funeral, the coroner’s jury issued the following verdict:

“We, the jury, find that Mamie Gordon came to her death form an overdose of drugs, taken by herself presumably with suicidal intent.”

W.M.  Whiteley, Coroner
Dave K.  Weir
Samuel Cox
A.C.  James
J.M.  Graham
Ed Trimble
A.  Malang

Life as a prostitute was not a happy one, and more likely than not, one that women simply fell into due to misfortune and bad circumstance.  At least some had addictions to cocaine or morphine, and as Mamie Gordon’s letter warned, one that could easily end in the death of a soiled dove.

Source:  Joplin Globe

The Reminiscences of G.O. Boucher: Part III

Boucher opens Joplin’s first saloon

“The price of town lots in Joplin in those days would hardly compare with the prices of today.  On the northwest corner of Main and Second streets were two vacant lots an through advice of Pat Murphy I bought them for $25.  I built a small building and September 1, 1871, J.C.  McCurdy and myself opened up the first regular saloon in Joplin.  At this time this was the tenth building finished in West Joplin.  It was later moved to the alley where it now fronts the police station.  It was used for some time as the Herald office.  As well as I remember, the saloon had been running about three weeks, business was good, and the miners crowded the place from opening until closing time.  One day a miner wandered in and asked: ‘When do you scrub out here?’ Now I had never given the scrubbing proposition a thought and I said, ‘Well, I expect it does need scrubbing, but where is a fellow to get the water?’ ‘Well,’ said the miner, ‘I will go hitch up old Nell and haul a barrel of water from down on the corner.’  We went to work and this is the way the first saloon in Joplin received its first scrubbing.

1872 Street Scene of Joplin, Missouri

A street scene from Joplin in 1872.

Sources: Joplin Globe, Joel T. Livingston’s “A History of Jasper County, Missouri, and her people.”

One Less Round Barn in America

In the spring blizzard experienced just a couple weeks ago, a great amount of snow was dumped onto the four states area.  A victim to this late winter hurrah was a unique and rare round barn located just south of Joplin on Saginaw road.  Incidentally, the farm was owned by John C. Cox, one of Joplin’s wealthiest citizens, and his family later had it built around 1909.  The Joplin Globe posted an article this weekend noting its history and the costly, and apparently fatal, damage that it sustained from the recent snows.

Read it here: Joplin Globe, “Storm Damages Local Landmark.”

The Reminiscences of G.O. Boucher: Part II

The Story of Goldmacher

“One of the old time business men who must not be neglected is an old German by the name of Goldmacher.  He was known to everybody as ‘Moneymaker.’  He erected a building next to Martin’s store. ‘Moneymaker’ built a bake oven and sold bread to the miners.  They were camped up and down Joplin creek.  He also had a supply of cheese, crackers, bologna, and sausage.  He kept a keg of beer on tap at all times.  He brought the beer from Baxter Springs. ‘Moneymaker’ attended strictly to business and paid particular attention to what his name signified.  The town grew rapidly, the miners kept drifting in and he as successful in business.

Everything went well until a gang of miners got into ‘Moneymaker’s’ place one night and got pretty well ‘stewed up.’  ‘Moneymaker’ had a dog which he valued highly.  A part of the bunch stayed inside and kept him interested, while the others got the old man’s dog and strung him to Murphy and Davis’ awning.  All was lovely until the next morning when ‘Moneymaker’ discovered his dog hanged by the neck until dead.  The old man threatened vengeance and posted the following notice in his place of business:

‘I vill gif ten dollars to eny tam rascal vat will dell me vat chentlemens hung my tog mit Murphy’s porch on.’

Boucher did not say whether or not Goldmacher caught the men who killed his dog.

Source: Joplin Globe