Jackson grocer-turned- historian is moving on

At 10:30 a.m. Thursday morning, Bern Schaper, neatly dressed in nearly white khakis and a light canary button-up shirt, walked into the county commission chambers.

He was expecting to be recognized for his work with the archive center and the Jackson Heritage Association.

He wasn't expecting 30 or so friends to show their appreciation too.

Officially, his friends and county officials were there to recognize his contributions in protecting, preserving and restoring the history of Jackson and the county. But it really came down to saying goodbye to a good friend.

Schaper, one of Jackson's most respected residents over the past century, is moving to Texas soon to live near his daughter and grandchildren. He's leaving behind a legacy that is well preserved, a history he helped shape.

It all started in 1916, the year Schaper was born. He was the son of Julius Schaper, a Jackson grocer, who operated a small store with a partner. Bern Schaper grew up in grocery stores, worked for spare change for as far back as he can remember. Six years after his son was born, Julius Schaper bought a partnership in a grocery store located on Broadway in Cape Girardeau. The store was called the Conservation Store. At that time, customers would walk the hardwood floors up to the counter, make a request and the grocer would retrieve the items. Bern Schaper watched his father run that particular store for nine years until the Great Depression rolled around.

Many of Schaper's customers bought on credit and couldn't pay off their debt. Julius Schaper, like so many small-business owners during that era, couldn't very well do business when there was no money coming in. Fortunately, Julius found someone to buy the store and the Schapers bought a farm south of Jackson on Highway 25.

For about three years, the grocers turned farmers. Schaper had a knack for selling food. Growing it and raising it didn't quite work so well. About three years later, the grocer and the grocer's son were out cutting firewood one Saturday.

"Bernard," Julius said. "We're not making it here. We're going back into the grocery business."

In 1934, Julius Schaper found a place in uptown Jackson, where the People's National Bank building was, one building west of the corner of Main and Court streets.

It was a tiny shop, about 30 feet wide and 90 feet deep. The Schapers had very little money so they started small. Julius bought a used cash register and had some carpenters build some shelves.

He had very little money left over for supplies.

As teenagers, Bern Schaper and a neighborhood friend worked at the store.

"Now boys, don't fill those shelves," Julius Schaper would tell them. "Face them. Just make them look like they're full."

And so the little store, one of nine or so small grocery stores in Jackson at the time, struggled to make ends meet.

Off to college

The year Julius Schaper started the store was the year his son started college. Bern Schaper earned enough at the store to pay his college tuition. In 1937, the Schapers moved to a building next door, directly on the corner of Main and Court streets.

Bern worked after school and on Saturdays while attending Southeast Missouri State Teachers College. He took the required teaching courses and majored in business, which was called "commerce" at the time.

Over the next few years, Julius Schaper's frugal management and hard work fertilized the store. The number of customers increased. The Schapers bought new fixtures, then a meat counter and added milk bottles to the walk-in cooler. Schapers became the first grocery store in town to have fresh meat and cold milk.

Just about the time the store was starting to thrive, the Army called. World War II was brewing and Bern Schaper enlisted. He wound up in the Air Corps and spent four years in service, eventually becoming an officer.

When he returned to civilian life in Jackson, he jumped right back into the grocery business with his dad. Bern Schaper was his own man by this time. He had a solid understanding of business and the confidence one obtains from four years in the military.

The store at the corner of Main and Court streets was still serving customers the old-fashioned way, fetching the food for the customers. But the industry was changing. So called "supermarkets" were being built where customers could pick up the food themselves. So when Bern Schaper came back from his service, he had some ideas.

"Dad, lets build us a supermarket," he told his father.

Julius Schaper thought that was a good idea. So they made it a goal.

In 1947, Bern Schaper married Dorothy Fulbright. In 1948, the Schapers built a tiny supermarket at a location a few blocks west. A senior adult day care is located there now. Since the grocery store days, the building's tenants have included a gas utility office and a restaurant.

Bern and Dorothy Schaper had two daughters, Teri and Nancy. His daughters grew even faster than the business. The supermarket outgrew the tiny building, and then in 1960, the Schapers made a huge leap: building a large store where Delmonico's restaurant is now.

Again, the grocery store grew and grew and the Schapers built an even bigger store in 1970 adjacent to Delmonico's where the new bowling alley is located now.

It was rough getting the new store going. The new building was double the space. That meant the Schapers could stock twice the amount of food. But the Schapers didn't have double the customers come in right away. To make matters worse, Julius Schaper died in 1971. Finally, after two or three years, the money coming in surpassed the money going out and the store thrived for several years under Bern Schaper's leadership.

The new, bigger supermarket was a different animal. Bern Schaper soon found that managing the supermarket was like running multiple businesses. The meat department, the produce department, the dairy, the deli, the checkouts -- they were all separate entities, all of which were necessary for the store's success.

Rarely did all things go well in all departments. It was a continual struggle to keep every department moving and productive. Schaper found the job rewarding and challenging. He liked walking the store's aisles, visiting with folks while they were shopping. Schaper is good with people. He smiles a lot. He's not afraid to put his hand on your shoulder, look you in the eye and tell you a story. He's an optimist.

But the toll and stress of the job was having an adverse affect on Schaper's body. He began losing his eyesight in the mid-1970s. A doctor told him that some vessels in his eyes had ruptured. He said it was stress related and eventually, if Schaper didn't lose the stress, he would lose his sight.

He and his wife talked it over and decided it was time to sell the store.

Schaper was always a worker going back to his childhood days in the store. Even at 88 years old, he still does chores in the yard.

After retiring, he had to find something to do. Schaper would later become involved in civic organizations. Twice he was president of the Jackson Chamber of Commerce. But before any of that, he found himself a chairman of a committee aimed at protecting the Oliver House.

Schaper wasn't alone in this project. He had lots of help.

He attended a meeting about restoring the house, and one of his friends said that since he didn't have anything else to do, that Schaper ought to be the chairman of the restoration committee.

"I don't know how to restore old houses," Schaper said. "I'm a grocer."

Well, nobody else knew anything about house restoration, either, and they said they'd all learn together. So Schaper was voted in.

The Oliver House was near decay. Thought to have been built in 1854, state Sen. Robert B. Oliver and his wife, Marie Watkins Oliver, lived in the home from 1878 to 1898. Marie Watkins Oliver designed and hand-stitched the first flag of the state of Missouri.

By the time Schaper got his hands on it, the house was falling apart, overtaken by termites. It had been vacant for several years. The roof was in poor shape, the plaster was cracked. The one-time jewel was a cluttered mess. Schaper found his new "job" to be one of the most exciting challenges of his life.

Schaper and the other members of the Jackson Heritage Association built up the house like the Schapers built up Jackson's grocery stores.

During the restoration, many people donated old photographs and maps for decoration.

He then thought it would be wonderful to begin his own collection of historical Jackson photos, to have a visual history of the county seat. Eventually, he had the most comprehensive collection of old Jackson photos in town and donated them to the Jackson Heritage Association. He also found five old maps, dating back to the earliest days of Cape Girardeau County, which he donated to the archive center. The maps show the county's original land owners, and the archive center was able to produce a book of the Spanish land grants.

Because of all his historical preservation efforts, Jackson's mayor, Cape Girardeau County's commissioners and nearly 30 friends crowded into the commission chambers Thursday.

Presiding Commissioner Gerald Jones said the gathering was the biggest crowd to squeeze into the chambers since the controversial planning and zoning issue was raised many years ago.

"Only everybody was against that time," he said. "This time, they're here in support."

Bern's wife died in 1992. He told his friends Friday that it was the right time to spend some time with his family. He'll be moving his belongings to Texas on Oct. 4.

As he was saying these things, his friends smiled, although they were sad to see him go.

They were clearly there to do more than thank him for preserving history, for restoring the Oliver House, donating maps and protecting precious old photos.

They were there to say goodbye. To thank him for being a good friend. And for helping put food on Jackson's tables for more than 50 years.

bmiller@semissourian.com

243-6635