1922 travelers find Missouri roads 'simply terrible,' but the 'scenery grand'

This is believed to be a view of the gravel road between Cape Girardeau and Jackson, probably taken in the 1920s or earlier. (Southeast Missourian archive)

Roads in Southeast Missouri, and elsewhere in the United States, were not the best in the early 1920s. A hard-surface road was something to wonder at, and the interstate system had not even been thought of yet.

So, a journey by automobile from Cape Girardeau County to Lucas County, Ohio, and back was not for the faint of heart. But that's just what Isaac Austin Smith and his wife of Cape Girardeau did in the summer of 1922. And in the fall, his account of the trip was published in the Southeast Missourian.

Published, Oct. 4, 1922:

TOURING WITH A MAN IN HIS 70s

ISAAC AUSTIN SMITH OF CAPE GIRARDEAU WRITES
ENTERTAININGLY OF AN AMATEUR MOTORIST'S TOUR

Sometimes a good deal of nerve is about as useful as real knowledge. Imagine a man well along in the seventies, whose knowledge of an automobile of the Ford lineage, or any other for that matter, is limited to less than two months' experience, undertaking a run of something like 1,500 miles, accompanied by the wife of his bosom and the luggage apt to be needed for two or three weeks of hot weather, and you have the conditions precedent in a nutshell.

The fact that there are Ford garages and supply stations scattered all over the country, rarely more than 10 miles apart, was a factor that, more than any other, gave confidence and courage to undertake the tour. I think the most monumental nerve of a half-baked amateur would have failed him completely but for this source of convenience and assistance.

We left Cape Girardeau Wednesday, Aug. 9 at 9 a.m. and drove to Jackson; thence by the usual route to Perryville and from there to McBride and West Chester. As we approached Perryville we discovered that the bridged road over Apple Creek had been missed and we had to ford the stream, the bottom of which was filled with huge boulders and the banks very steep, but we tackled the situation, bumping along the creek, and up the steep bank, landing in safety, but losing one of the glass covers from the headlights. A Ford service station in Perryville supplied the missing light cover, and we proceeded on our way. Just at the foot of the steep hill leading into McBride we found a big car lying alongside, with a front wheel crushed, but our sedan reached the foot of the hill safely.

The ferry

Upon reaching the wharf at West Chester, about 90% of the nerve that inspired the tour vanished at the steep grade and the ferry boat at the bottom. As the remaining 10% did not seem to be sufficient to overcome this difficulty and possible danger, an expert from a nearby garage was employed to put the car on the boat. Reaching the Illinois side another steep grade shook its fist in our faces, and the ferryman, seeing our consternation, kindly volunteered to run us up the bank. Since he had charged $1.50 for taking us over the river, we felt that something more was coming to us by rights, so we did not offer to pay for this additional service.

We stopped in Chester long enough to give the car a once over, and buy some gas, then we proceeded along the river road, through the Southern Penitentiary grounds to Fort Gage. Here we turned to the right and climbed such a long steep hill that I thought several times Old Dan would lose his breath and drop to the bottom again. But he did not.

At the top of the hill we found a rutty clay road covered with dust, but we continued to Ellis Grove, Evansville and then Sparta. Here the streets had been oiled and were filled with sharp jolty holes, hard on the car and worse on the occupants. Leaving Sparta we ran to Marissa, over a rutty, dusty road, and were nearly smothered by the clouds of dust kicked up by passing cars. It was now about 6 p.m. but we concluded to drive on as far as New Athens before putting up for the night. Upon reaching this place we set about hunting a place to stop, and being refused by several hotels we finally found a neat little Cottage Hotel, run by nice clean folks, so we put up the car, and set out to find some supper. Ham and eggs, fried potatoes, bread and butter, worth probably 35 cents apiece, cost more than double. We concluded that the restaurant woman must have been a near relative to the ferryman, but we expected nothing less than extortionate prices, so we paid the bill and did not say a word.

After a good night's rest, in a nice clean bed and a very satisfactory breakfast, all of which, for a wonder, were quite reasonable, we crossed the Okaw River and headed north for Belleville. The road had a good smooth "tar bond" surface and Old Dan was feeling very spry, so we ran to Balleville in a short time.

Good roads

From Belleville through Shiloe Valley, we had a hard surface, concrete road for about five miles, then a good gravel road to O'Fallon and Lebanon. The road east from here to Carlyle was fairly good, practically level but very dusty. It was even worse going north to Greenville, so we had to run very slowly, taking nearly two hours to run 20 miles.

From Greenville to Hillsboro, we detoured a good deal, lost our way several times but finally reached the town about 4 p.m. Here we visited our daughter, whose husband is pastor of the Presbyterian Church there, remaining over night, having a fine bath, splendid dinner and a generally good time.

Friday morning after a thorough overhauling of our car, greasing its joints and supplying its needs, we started on our way, feeling fresh and fit for anything we were likely to meet. It's wonderful how a bit of rest, some good things to eat, and a social visit among our loved ones, brightens everything, paints the environments a rosy hue, and makes every one light-hearted.

We drove over some hilly roads, some very rough, and others more inviting, until we reached Vandalia. Here we saw the courthouse that was once the State House of Illinois. The place where Abraham Lincoln made his maiden speeches in his youthful days, as a member of the State Legislature. Here it was that he stepped out of the second story window, hung by his hands on the window sill, and dropped to the ground. The question of moving the Capitol to Springfield was up for consideration and the matter had reached the voting stage. The members were nearly equally divided, and one evening the Speaker of the House ordered the door keeper to lock the door, as there was just a bare quorum present. Lincoln counted noses and saw that the majority present were opposed to the removal; he was in favor of it, and to break the quorum he resorted to the athletic stunt noted above. Vandalians, to this day, tell of the incident with many a jolly chuckle at old Abe's shrewdness.

Trying incidents

Crossing the Okaw River again, going eastward, the first few miles of the road are under construction, and very bad going, but soon reaching the Old National Trail, which is ultimately intended to be a hard surfaced road from Washington, D.C., to San Francisco, California, we found it finished for hundreds of miles. We ran along this splendid road without discomfort or trouble of any trouble of any kind, reaching Marshall, Illinois, about 3 p.m. We had some rather trying incidents, however, that are worthy of mention. At two places the culverts had been washed out by heavy rains, and the road was under repair. Cars had to descend a sharp declivity very steep, to the level of the original ground, some 30 feet below the grade of the road. Some cars could not do this; we saw several whose drivers were unable to mount the ascent at the other end of the breaks, and had to have assistance. But Old Dan just stuck his toes into the mud and cinders, drew a long breath and went up without a hitch or a stop.

All along these good roads, you will find farmers with a little booth selling apples, peaches, sandwiches, fresh eggs and other tings tourists are apt to need; and quite frequently picturesque little groves are to be found where tourists may park their cars and rest. Many carry their own camping outfits and use these inviting places for their camp overnight. The people generally are very accommodating, and do not charge big prices for their stuff. Many towns along these roads offer nights lodging at private dwellings, which are far better than the conveniences found at the hotels.

Turning north at Marshall, we found a splendid road called the Dixie Highway. We made fine time, passing through beautiful towns, with good streets, and abundant supplies for all needs. Paris is the largest town, and is a beautiful place; splendid residences, fine stores, and well paved streets. We turned east at Crisman, found a good gravel road all the way, crossed the Wabash River to Montezuma, Indiana, and drove to Rockville. Here we stayed all night at the Parks Hotel, whose accommodations were not nearly so good as those we found at private residences elsewhere.

Attractive city

We were now 60 miles from Indianapolis and the roads were just fine. We reached the capital of Indiana about 11 a.m., found our sister there and stayed over Sunday.

Indianapolis is a beautiful city. Its drives, parks, streets and homes are fine. Thrift and prosperity abound on every hand. Brother-in-law Taylor is a splendid host and sister a big-hearted, loving creature, who spared no pains to make our short visit one of great pleasure and satisfaction. Sunday, Sunday school and church in the morning and a drive over the city, including a visit to Fort Harrison, in the afternoon. Fort Harrison is a regular Army post, with permanent brick buildings for officers' and men's quarters. The parade ground is a large square and shaded place, about the size of 10 city blocks. Abundant flower beds, a band playing delightful music, while we were there, and hundreds of autos parked around the margin, whose occupants listed to the Sunday afternoon concert.

The sunken gardens and fountains at Garfield Park are the most beautiful we had ever seen. All of the appointments were well kept and splendid in appearance. The soldiers' monument in the heart of the city is the finest in the United States.

Monday morning we proceeded on our way, over fine roads, through Anderson, Muncie, Fort Wayne and numerous smaller towns. We certainly enjoyed the magnificent surroundings and scenery. We reached Defiance, Ohio, in the evening, found a delightful resting place for the night at a private residence. Excellent cuisine at a nearby restaurant and arose the next morning refreshed and feeling fine.

We reached Maumee and Perrysburg about noon. Had a delightful lunch at the wife's sister's home, a splendid dinner in the evening at the home of a cousin, and then proceeded the remaining 16 miles to Toledo, where we found the home of another sister, who was looking for us and had a pleasant reception prepared. Here we also found Dr. Thompson and his wife, who is a sister of Mrs. Smith. They had driven in their car from Fair Haven, Massachusetts, a suburb of Boston, about 1,000 miles.

So, our journey was ended, not a "trouble" of any kind, not even a "puncture." Old Dan was sound and well, a bit dusty, but in just as good trim as when we started from the Cape.

Family reunion

The chief object of the tour was a reunion of the kinfolks of Jacob Switzer, Mrs. Smith's father, and the celebration of his 90th birthday. Mr. Switzer is a wonderfully well preserved man. He reads without glasses, hears well and is as active as the average man of 65. His five daughters were all there — the first time they had all been together for over 20 years.

The reunion dinner, followed by timely and appropriate speeches, and a musical program, was splendidly planned and carried out in a highly commendable way. A three-story birthday cake, showing 90 tiny lighted candles, was a striking feature of the banquet table.

Forty-seven guests, all related by blood or marriage, sat down at this banquet, enjoying a repast that would be hard to beat. The guests assembled at the Congregational Church which had graciously been tendered for the occasion.

The entire reunion was a highly enjoyable affair, one to be remembered a life time.

We started for home on Monday, returning by a different route; passing through many beautiful cities in Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, reaching St. Louis, by easy stages, Thursday evening following. The roads were fine until we reached Missouri, and they were simply terrible. We wanted to see the Missouri side, so we drove south out of St. Louis to LeMay Ferry Road, following it through Hillsboro, De Soto, Bonne Terre, Flat River, Farmington, Fredericktown and Marquand.

The scenery was grand, but the roads were almost impassable, especially after leaving Fredericktown. We reached the Cape about noon on Saturday. Old Dan exceeded the speed limit on this last lap from Jackson. He was just as full of "pep" as the day we started and has not had a visit to the repair shop; doesn't need it, and is just as fine as can be.

The greatest caution was exercised throughout the entire trip. Our speed rarely exceeded 25 miles per hour, and excepting two or three "flat tires," we had no difficulty worth mentioning.

There are three notable characters all tourists encounter, we call them Speed Fiend, the Road Hog and the "Grouch." The Speed Fiend runs as fast as his car will go, cares for no one but himself, and quite frequently lands in the ditch. We saw several in this fix, but their misfortune did not deter others from driving like the wind. The Road Hog usually has a big, powerful car, takes the middle of the road and never gives an inch to anybody. He assumes that everybody will keep out of his way, and as a rule they are glad to do so. The Grouch is generally a farmer with a big load hauled by horses. He keeps the middle of the road, drives slowly, and pays no attention to the "honking" of the man who wants to pass. Sometimes the Grouch is a truck driver with a wide truck that nearly covers the road. He holds the road against all comers, and all the "honking" one may do does not move him out of the way.

Noticeable features along the roads are the large number of dead chickens, dead birds and frequently dead rabbits that have been run over. One would think that these creatures would get out of the way, but they don't.

Many of the hard roads are too narrow for two cars to pass, and not a few have graveled side roads on each side for the farm teams to use, but, bless your heart, they don't do it. They take the "middle" of the road and stick there.

As a comforting experience, I must mention the fact that the tour was a health promoting feature of first class order. We felt better each day, and returned home greatly refreshed by the tour. I.A. SMITH.

Two years later, another article about Isaac Austin Smith appeared in the Southeast Missourian. This time, he and Jacob Doyle were featured as members of the same Sunday school class at First Presbyterian Church.

Published Jan. 21, 1924, in the Southeast Missourian:

TWO GIRARDEANS, 79 YEARS OLD,
IN SAME SUNDAY SCHOOL CLASS

Isaac A. Smith, 737 Themis St., and Jacob Doyle, 1107 Broadway, are both members of a Sunday school class at the Presbyterian Church. When a member of this class has a birthday, he must drop a number of pennies, corresponding to his years, in the collection box the following Sunday. Yesterday Smith and Doyle each dropped 79 pennies in the box.

Both men, although well past three score and 10 years, are remarkably "hale and hearty" and lead active, useful lives.

"Uncle Jake" Doyle, as he is familiarly known, was born Jan. 20, 1845, at Chickamauga, Georgia. When he was 7 years old, his family moved to Arkansas, locating on a farm near Hoxie. A young lad at the outbreak of the Civil War, he ran away from home to join a troop of Confederate cavalry, stationed near Hoxie. However, he had neglected to bring a horse along with him and the cavalry moved off and left him.

At 19 he moved with his parents to a farm in Cape Girardeau County and has lived here ever since, spending the summer in farming and the winters teaching school.

His was 'best school'

For 12 years "Uncle Jake" taught at the Lehmann (Leemon) School located between Jackson and Neely's Landing, and characterized by him as "the best school in the county — or was, as long as I taught there."

He is now retired and living in town.

Mr. Doyle's opinion of the modern flapper is "not elevated," he states. The old fashioned type for him.

As for bobbed hair, "they can wear it long or short" for all he cares.

Where girls are concerned, "Uncle Jake" should be an undisputed authority as at the boarding house conducted by his wife more college girls board than at any other place in Cape Girardeau.

He is a strong supporter of the 18th Amendment and is favorably impressed with the Bok peace plan but is bitterly opposed to the Melton tax plan which, he says, "takes the tax off the millionaire but not off the hat that you and I buy."

* * *

Isaac Austin Smith was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, where he spent most of his youth. When the Civil War broke out, he was too young to enlist until the last year of the war, during which he served in the Union Army, attached to the headquarters of Gen. Lew Wallace at Baltimore.

When peace was declared, Smith returned to Cincinnati and entered the offices of R.C. Phillips, head of a civil engineering firm where he learned the profession. Afterwards, he spent 10 years with the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, serving six years as chief engineer.

Leaving the railroad, he went in business for himself, later becoming chief engineer of the Wiggins Ferry Co. of St. Louis, building the first car incline track, by means of which trains are loaded onto transfer boats, on the Mississippi River. He also engineered the Belt Railroad at St. Louis.

In London when the World War broke out, he returned to this country and six years ago joined the Little River Drainage District as an engineer, with which company he is now connected.

Mr. Smith walks to his office when weather permits and believes strongly in the youth of the present generation, calling the majority of them honest, upright and certainly more capable than previous generations. He is for the Bok plan for world peace if certain reservations are made. Mr. Smith is an enthusiastic church worker.

Mr. Smith is one of the few men in the country — or the world for that matter — who learned how to drive an automobile after reaching 77 years of age and successfully drove on a cross-country trip of 2,000 miles.

Isaac Austin Smith passed away at the age of 87 on March 28, 1932, in Pasadena, California, where he and his wife had lived the the previous four years.

The obituary published in the Southeast Missourian on March 31, 1932, noted "Smith was engineer of the old waterworks plant in Cape Girardeau, the plant being built 34 years ago. The plant, as it was worked out and has since been in use here, was the gravity system. The water was pumped to the reservoir near Teachers College, and the pressure served the city system. Mr. Smith also built water plants at Dexter and Poplar Bluff, after the construction here.

"A veteran of the Civil War, Capt. Smith, as he was known to many friends, retained a clear recollection of war days. He always maintained an impressive bearing as he walked about and retained to the end his great faith in the Republican party."