Ku Klux Klan: Loose Ends

This photo from the Library of Congress collection, location and precise date unknown, does date from the 1920s and illustrates the uniform Klan costume marketed by the national organization across the United States, including Lucas County. The subject here reportedly is the christening of the "youngest" Klan member. Keep in mind that the Klan self-identified as a Christian organization and by some estimates two-thirds of its most active promoters were ordained protestant clergy. We have no idea how Lucas County's clergy contingent as a whole reacted to the Klan, but in nearby Centerville, reportedly only the Presbyterian pastor was willing to stand publicly against it.

I went back to the newspaper files Monday to see if I could tie up a few loose ends regarding the Ku Klux Klan's record in Lucas County, confirming only that that here isn't much more substantive information to be found there.

But I did find the following previously overlooked article in the Herald-Patriot of May 24, 1923, describing a cross-burning on the shores of Crystal Lake --- the reservoir on the west side of Chariton that now is the site of the Chariton Golf and Country Club as well as lakeshore housing.

This followed a public promotional meeting for the Klan on the square during late April, reported upon here; and perhaps was among the first promotional efforts of Wayne Blankenship, newly arrived Klan recruiter, and friends.

KU KLUX KLAN PARADE

They Burned the Cross and Marched Around the Symbol

The Invisible Empire became spectacular here on Monday. During the day the organizer asked permission of James Bennett to parade on the gun club grounds but Mr. Bennett said it might not meet the approval of the club. This was the night of the big club opening for the season and many would be at Crystal Lake that evening. But at about 10 o'clock that night a burning cross was erected on the west side of the lake and a band of white robed Kluxers paraded around and encircled the cross as it was being consumed. It looked somewhat ghostly and grotesque, but was quite an interesting spectacle. Who constitutes the Empire here is not known, but it is known that an organization has been made, and it is claimed it will have a large membership. It is announced that N.C. Carpenter, D.D., pastor of the Capitol Hill Church of Christ, Des Moines, will tell why he is a member of the Ku Klux Klan here on next Friday evening.

The Rev. Mr. Carpenter was one of several Des Moines preachers who were organizing the Klan there, and had recently gained broad attention for his sermon, "Why I Am a Member of the Ku Klux Klan." He had been elected president of the Des Moines Klan. The Chariton newspapers did not report upon his appearance in Lucas County.

Anti-Klan crusaders also appeared in Chariton, including John Wilkinson of Tulsa, Oklahoma, who "addressed a large audience" in the courthouse square during late August of 1924, following the Klan's big konclave at Chariton. This was a meeting that the Herald-Patriot did cover. According to the Herald-Patriot, "for many weeks he has been in Appanoose county delivering lectures and rallying the opposing forces."

Although opposed to the Klan, Wilkinson apparently was not adverse to using racism to fight it. "He closed," the Herald-Patriot reported, "by taking up the race question and the results of amalgamation and the possibilities, leaving this as his culminating conclusion, if white supermacy is to endure there should not be divisions among this similar people."

Although Klan presence in Lucas County may have peaked with the konclave of 1924, meetings still were being held and brief reports of these continue to appear here and there in newspaper issues during 1925, including the following from the Herald-Patriot of June 30, 1925:

There was a big Klan meeting held at the Ira Noble farm, in Whitebreast township, yesterday evening. This was an open meeting for everybody, and large crowds attended. The cars lined the roads for a long distance. There was a speaker from abroad present, who delineated the aims and objects of the Klan, as a matter for prospective members. The Klan has made full provision for a big celebration at Indianola, July 4.

It would appear that the Lucas County Klan, although a considerable presence, never quite managed to become a political power, as it did in Centerville, our neighbor to the southeast. In Appanoose County, the Klan took over the Republican party and threatened to take over city and county government as well. That galvanized into action the Beck family and their Daily Iowegian, as well as other community leaders, who managed to break it's back.

The late Robert K. Beck was the last of his family to edit and publish The Iowegian, and he had hoped to find time in a busy life to write about that aspect of Appanoose County history, but didn't. During early 2010, his friend Bill Heusinkveld, a meticulous local historian now also deceased, fulfilled a request from Beck to carry on his work and summarized Klan history there in a four-part series still available in the Iowegian's digital archives. It's well worth a read for anyone interested in the Klan and Iowa. You may find Part 1 of that series here; Part 2 here; Part 3 here; and, finally, Part 4.

Confessions of a failed boycotter

So I had to make an emergency run Sunday afternoon to Hy-Vee for two 1.75-quart box containers of Blue Bunny ice cream, on sale for $1.99 each. Banana Split and Bunny Tracks. I also picked up two one-pound containers of Hy-Vee butter, on sale for $1.88 each, and some Colorado peaches. Just in case you were interested.

The problem is, if I had the courage of my convictions I'd be boycotting Blue Bunny --- and in spirit, I am (by only buying when it's on sale), Doesn't that count?

The difficulty with Blue Bunny is its family, the Wells, who are big financial backers of Bob Vander Plaats and his Christianist wingnut friends at The Family Leader, both of whom and which have made careers, of sorts, based entirely on bashing gay people.

So a boycott was called and I tried. Honest.

Now what I'm going to say next results from hanging out online at too many blogs operated by recovering evangelicals. God help me, I'm beginning to understand how they talk. Those of us in the trade call it evangebabble.

So here's the deal, I have a heart for boycotting Blue Bunny, but my stomach keeps getting in the way. Golly, I love the Blue Bunny. Even if the little sucker is homophobic. But only when he's on sale for $3 per container or less.

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My boycotts of Chick-fil-A and North Carolina are going better. Chick-fil-A's been a breeze. There's only one franchise within 100 miles of here and I'd have no idea how to find it if I wanted to. Plus, if I'm going to a fast-food joint I'm going to have a burger --- not some sissy chicken sandwich.

Same for North Carolina. It's a long ways from here and it would take a heck of a lot to convince me that I wanted to abandon my boycott --- like a free round trip and expenses paid. Offers?

Let's face it, I'm a hypocrite.

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But I have been surprised at all the sqwaking and wing-flapping among my Christian friends about the Chick-fil-A deal. Golly, you'd think gay folks invented the boycott.

The truth is, a good Christian who hopes for heaven has to have so many sticky notes on the front of the refrigerator, reminding him or her where not to shop, that there's no room left for the Bible verse of the day.

Can't drink Starbucks or shop J.C. Penny and Sears, patronize Disney or bank Wells Fargo. Stay away from Home Depot, throw out all your Proctor & Gamble, Johnson & Johnson and Kraft Foods products and burn your Levis. Don't eat at McDonalds or drive a Ford. Avoid Allstate Insurance, General Mills and Target, don't watch the Muppets, don't read DC Comics and God will get you if you eat Girl Scout cookies. And for heaven's sake, don't Google. What a chore. And this list is only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.

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So here's the long and short of it --- boycotts are fine by me. If you don't like the politics or the practices of some business --- or if an employee snarls at you --- don't patronize it. Likewise, if you approve, spend lavishly. If y'all want to join Mike Huckabee and Sarah Palin at the Chick-fil-A counter on August 1 --- national sacrifice-a-chicken-for-Jesus day --- bless your heart.

Just spare me your hypocrisy --- and I'll spare you mine.

Although I have been wondering what a Chick-fil-A sandwich tastes like, even if it is chicken.  Maybe I could sneak up to West Des Moines some time after August 1 .... Nope. I'm standing firm.

Lucas County & the Ku Klux Klan: Part 2

The Ku Klux Klan purchased the former United Presbyterian Church building on North Grand in Chariton as headquarters during 1924 and held the building until 1930, when it was sold to what now is the congregation of Truth Assembly of God.

A major difficulty involved in sorting out the Ku Klux Klan's record in Lucas County is the fact that neither of Chariton's two newspapers, the Herald-Patriot and The Leader, reported extensively upon it --- and rarely named names. Although Leader editor Henry Gittinger seems to have enjoyed taking potshots at the organization, the entire Leader file for 1924 --- the Klan's most active year in Lucas County --- is missing..

The Klan's rise coincided but cannot be attributed to the arrival in Chariton during 1922 of the Rev. J.D. (Jesse David) Pontius, called to serve First Christian Church. He was a native of Cainsville in Harrison County, Missouri, and previously had served as pastor of the Christian church in Humeston, which called him during January of 1917. Pontius remained in Chariton through 1927, then moved to First Christian in Corydon during 1928-29 and finally departed the Midwest entirely, removing to Colorado in 1930 --- where he remained until his death during 1955.

A variety of newspaper accounts link Pontius to the Klan. On July 21, 1923, for example, the Rev. Mr. Pontius married the newly-arrived Lucas County Klan recruiter, Wayne A. Blankenship, to a hometown girl, Mabel Nolen.

During late October, 1924, the Rev. Mr. Pontius officiated during funeral services at Belinda Christian Church, "under the auspices of the knights and women of the Ku Klux Klan," for a young man and apparent Klan member from Olmitz --- 31-year-old John Harrison James.

And The Herald-Patriot of July 14, 1925, reported that "the Klan held a meeting Friday evening on the John Eaton farm west of Norwood. An open meeting, large attendance. Rev. Pontius, from Chariton, was the speaker."

It's undertain if Pontius was the only Lucas County preacher involved with the Klan --- or the only one unfortunate enough to leave behind a name linked in print to it.

And whoever was behind the Klan apparently encountered considerable resistance, which is reassuring.

The April 18, 1924, edition of The Fiery Cross, official newspaper of the Indiana Klan, published in Indianapolis, reported that the Klan in Lucas County "has had its share of trials and tribulations. There has been much opposition, although the population of Chariton is only about 6,000. Much difficulty was encountered several months ago in obtaining a hall in which Professor DeBarr of the University of Oklahoma could speak, the high school auditorium being denied the organization at the eleventh hour."

"Professor DeBarr" was Edwin C. "Daddy" DeBarr, a veteran faculty member, dean and department head in the pharmacy and chemistry departments at the University of Oklahoma at Norman, who was dismissed by that institution during 1923 because of his Klan connections.

It appears that Wayne Blankenship, a Ku Klux Klan recruiter from Indiana, arrived in Chariton about April, 1923. We know that because of a paragraph included in the newspaper account of his marriage to Mabel Nolen, at which the Rev. Mr. Pontius officiated.

According to that report, from The Herald Patriot of July 26, 1923, "The groom has resided in Chariton for about four months, and has been engaged in the organization of the Ku Klux Klan at this place. During the time that he has been here he has won many friends by his gentlemanly bearing and courteous manners. His home is in Valparaiso, Ind., and he is a graduate of the Valparaiso University. While there he affiliated with the Cappa Delta Pi fraternity. During the recent world war he served his country through the entire war as a member of the Fifth Marine Corps, and was wounded on two different occasions."

It may have been Blankenship's organizational work --- and who could not listen to a twice-wounded combat veteran of gentlemanly bearing with courteous manners --- that strengthened the Lucas County Klan to the point that during April of 1924 it purchased the then-vacant United Presbyterian Church (occupied during 2012 by Chariton's Assembly of God congregation). Here's the report of that purchase from The Herald-Patriot of April 17, 1924:

"The local Ku Klux Klan has purchased the vacated ... United Presyterian church on North Grand street, and will use the edifice for a meeting place. This building has not been used for church services since the congregation united with the First Presbyterian church. The klan also came into possession of the residence building which was formerly the manse. The Lucas county klan is the second in the state to purchase property in which to hold meetings. The property will be held by trustees."

The fact that a report regarding the purchase appeared in the Indianapolis-based "The Fiery Cross" the day after the report appeared in the Chariton newspaper suggests close ties between the local and Indiana Klans. The report there was headlined, "Chariton, Iowa, Klan Purchases A Home: Transaction Marks Success for Organzation in Lucas County."

The article reads, "CHARITON, Ia., April 12 --- The first home purchased by the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan in Iowa was bought the past week by the Lucas county unit at Chariton. The purchase included an old church building with a seating capacity of 500 (sic) and a seven-room modern house located on a plot of ground 56 by 156 feet, two blocks from the public square.

"During the winter months the local Klan has been meeting in the church. Now, during the spring and summer months, the building will be used for closed meetings only on rainy nights, the Lucas county Klan meeting in the outdoors on every occasion when the weather will permit.

"The house will be rented for some time. The rental will more than pay for the taxes and interest on the property. In time to come the house will be converted into headquarters offices and club rooms.

"It is seldom that an unchartered Klan obtains a home of its own. All Iowa Klandom congratulates the Lucas county members; they have set a goal toward which the rest of the Hawkeye state can strike (sic)."

Less than four months later, the Lucas County Klan was prepared to host a regional "konklave" that, some estimated, attracted the largest crowd ever gathered in Chariton. Here is The Herald-Patriot's report of the event, which appeared at the top of Page 1 of the Aug. 7, 1924 edition beneath a four-deck headline:

KLAN HAD BIG MEETING HERE

Perhaps Largest Crowd Here Ever Assembled Saturday Night

Big Parade Was Seen

Ceremonies Took Place at the Chandler Ball Park. Many People from Other Counties Here for the Event

"Last Saturday was Klan Day in Chariton. As advertised, the Lucas county Konklave took place on a large scale, and it is not an exaggeration to say that visitors were here by the thousands to witness and participate in the program as arranged for the day. The ceremonies were held at Chandler Park and through the afternoon the crowds were not so much in evidence on the uptown streets. However, in the evening, at the time of the large parade, it was at once apparent that something very much out of the ordinary was taking place. Automobiles were parked several deep where ever there was parking room. The alleyways were packed full of machines and around the square it is said that standing room was not plentiful anywhere. Cars were noted from a number of other Iowa counties and altogether the event was a record breaker for anything of is kind held in the town.

"At Chandler Park elaborate preparations had been made for the large meeting. A number of refreshment stands were erected with others of the tents designated as headquarters for the various county delegations. The grounds were lighted by electricity, several portable plants having been employed, it is said, to furnish current.

"The program as advertised for the occasion of the meeting of Knights and Women of the Ku Klux Klan of Iowa, opened at 3:30 when a national speaker addressed the large audience. At 8:30 in the evening the parade was formed and moved from the park to the public suare. A band and twenty-four mounted Klansmen, in full regalia, led the line while a number of floats and cars were a part of the parade. A drum and bugle corps and several other features, including a large especially lighted cross, were included in the demonstration. During the time the parade was under way another member of the national speaker's bureau talked on organization matters at the park.

"At 10:30 the naturalization ceremonies took place and shortly after the people began to leave the grounds although nearly an hour was required to pass out the large crowd. Notwithstanding the congestion of cars and people made haste an impossibility, it is said perfect order prevailed throughout the day."

Most likely, the Herald-Patriot reporter didn't go near Chandler Park, reportedly a ball field on the Chariton River bottom somewhere in the neighborhood of the the current intersection of the "dump road" and U.S. 34, during the meeting. Which seems odd. But then there was a good deal of oddity in how Klan activities were reported upon in both The Herald-Patriot and the Leader --- a peculiar combination of scorn, respect and fear. I'm assuming that the "naturalization" ceremony was the initiation ceremony for new members and most likely featured a burning cross. I surely wish Henry Gittinger's Leader coverage was available.

The most complete account of a Klan ceremonial that I found in the Chariton newspapers was in the Herald-Patriot of June 2, 1925, and involved a konklave near Des Moines. The report had been picked up from an exchange newspaper, but does give some idea of how that Chandler Park program might have looked:

"On Saturday night preceding the date for the state meeting of the Women of the Ku Klux Klan in Des Moines at which 500 accredited delegates representing every county in Iowa responded, a state Konclave of the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan gathered in a pasture a short distance northwest of the city. Members of the order estimate that from 10,000 to 12,000 persons were present. With a drum and bugle corps furnishing inspirational music the women dressed in white robes formed a human cross 525 feet long. Surrounding the cross were red flares and in the center of the cross a sixty-piece band played "Onward Christian Soldiers." The candidates marched up through the center of the cross, the women going to one arm and the men to the other, and in the light of one seventy foot and two forty foot crosses, the intiation of members was carried out."

Although the Lucas County konklave most likely was the high point for the Klan here, considerable activity continued through the year.

During November, for example, the Klan leased the Lincoln Theater on the south side of the square for three days to show a Klan propaganda film entitled, "The Traitor Within Our Gates." Great crowds were expected, according to a Herald-Patriot report.

Newspaper reports diminish during 1925, although meetings certainly still were being held.

The Herald-Patriot of Aug. 4, 1925, reported that "The Corydon papers have announced that the Ku Klux Klan has arranged for a big conclave in that town, at the fair grounds, for Saturday, August 22, and it is expected to be of great dimensions and will include the surrounding counties. It is said it will be similar to the big meeting held here last year."

And in its edition of  Sept. 24: "There will be a Klan picnic on Saturday, September 27, at Byers grove, one mile south of Belinda on Primary Road 14. There will be religious services in the forenoon at 11 o'clock. Picnic dinner at 1 o'clock. Address at 2:30. Good singing. Good speaking, Everybody welcome regardless of race, creed, color or previous condition of servitude."

The Klan seems to have been especially strong in the neighborhood of Belinda Christian Church, two miles north of the grove.

But by 1926, the Klan was on the decline and regalia was packed away or destroyed and no more dues were paid. The Blankenships moved to Eldora to operate a garage; the Pontius family, first to Corydon, then to Colorado. The Klan sold the former United Presbyterian parsonage first, then in 1930, the church itself, which went to a newly organized Assembly of God congregation.

It's almost impossible to figure out how strong the Klan really was in Lucas County thanks in large part to the absence of reporting on it. Later guestimates placed the size of the crowd in Chariton on the day of the konklave at 20-30,000, but that most likely is a considerable exaggeration although there's no doubt that thousands were here.

The Klan does not seem to have gained political influence, although according to some reports the sheriff of the day was a Klan member. Your grandpa may have been, too --- if he was white, native-born and protestant.

 Elsewhere, crusading newspapers did their best to pull the Klan into the light and expose its excesses. That was the case in Centerville, where the Beck family's Iowegian crusaded against the organization and helped to break its back. But that does not seem to have been the case in Chariton --- unless that crusade was confined to those missing issues of The Leader.

The Great Depression delivered the final blow to this incarnation of the Klan, combined with internal scandals nationwide, difficulty retaining members and general disgust.

But of course the factors that gave rise to it remain --- old-time religion, old-time bigotry, extremist nationalism, populist scapegoating and fear. 

"Iron them sheets, Ma ...

I could not find an advertisement for Chariton's 1924 Klan rally, but here's the advertisement that appeared in Chariton newspapers during August of 1925 to promote the next year's regional gathering --- in Corydon.

... we're gonna burn ourselves a cross tonight." Or something like that, even though the robes and pointy-topped hoods a good number of Lucas Countyans were wearing in the early 1920s weren't actually sheets, but professionally sewn regalia sold for a profit by recruiters.

One of the most peculiar twists of our history, although it's not talked about much, is that the biggest gathering in Chariton prior to RAGBRA's over-nighter a few years ago was a 1924 Ku Klux Klan rally. Yup. Pretty scary stuff.

Since we're nearing the 88th anniversary of that event I've been thinking about some of the forces at play then --- and now: old-time religion, old-time bigotry, extremist nationalism, populist scapegoating and fear. The parallels are kind of spooky.

I've told the story on several occasions of my great-aunt and great-uncle, who entertained their sheeted friends at a cross-burning party at their place down in the woods along Wolf Creek back in the 20s. Scanning through 1924 Herald-Patriots Friday, I came upon this little  item from July 3 that could refer to that event:

"A large open air meeting of the Ku Klux Klan was held Monday evening south of Chariton and was attended by men and women from all over the district. It was estimated that there were 2,500 men and women present. A national speaker was present and addressed the large gathering," the Herald-Patriot reported.

According to a publisher's note, the news item had appeared first in The Seymour Herald, suggesting (a) that the Chariton newspapers hadn't been aware of the meeting and (b) the gathering had involved quite a number of Wayne Countyans, too.

Now I'm doubting the figure 2,500 --- but obviously it was a big deal. And the obvious question is, what the hell was going on here, and why? This is Iowa, after all. Moderation in all things --- until Christianist loonies took over the Republican party in recent years. Not.

And it's not a topic much talked or written about. By 1930, the Klan was gone and Lucas Countyans who had been involved were either ashamed of themselves --- or had been shamed into silence, robes had been packed away or destroyed. "Aw shucks, it was just another lodge," those who talked about it at all said.

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To understand a little of what was going on here, you've got to go back to 1915 when D.W. Griffith's iconic but horrifying "The Birth of a Nation," was released, fictionalizing and glorifying the first Ku Klux Klan, a dreadful and deadly outfit organized during 1865 in Pulaski, Tennessee.

That Klan was long dead when Griffith's film opened, but "The Birth of a Nation" set off a nationwide revisionist Klan craze capitalized upon by William J. Simmons, who founded the new Klan that year in Stone Mountain, Georgia. Much of the new Klan's paraphernalia, from sheets to flaming crosses, was lifted straight from the movie. If it hadn't had such tragic consequences for blacks foremost but also for Jews and Roman Catholics and all those other "others," the whole business would have been hilarious.

The new Klan puttered along until 1920, when its future was placed in the hands of professional publicists --- seriously. It then exploded across South and North --- a marketing success story based upon racism, anti-Semitism, anti-Catholicism, anti-Communism, opposition to immigration and --- prohibition. The Klan's target audience was exclusively white and exclusively protestant. And Lucas County was about as white and protestant as it got.

Klan organizers spread across the land to recurit new members, collect dues and sell costumes, keeping half the money for themselves. Since nearly everyone belonged to one or more lodges in those days, the trappings of fraternal organizations were added, too. That gave rise to the line, "but it's just another lodge."

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It's probably impossible now to determine who set off Klan excitement in Lucas County or exactly when. But we do know that a public promotional meeting for the Klan was held on the square during late April of 1923 because Henry W. Gittinger, then editor and publisher of The Chariton Leader, reported on it.

By that time, a professional Klan recruiter, Wayne A. Blankenship,  had moved to Chariton from Indiana --- the state where the new Klan was having its most success outside the South. And a preacher who went on to become something of a Klan chaplain, the Rev. Jesse David Pontius, had just been installed at Chariton's First Christian Church. In addition, John P. Ream, a prosperous farmer and brother of my great-uncle (and Klan member) Durward Ream, was acting as Klan organizer for Wayne County.

Here's an edited-down version of Gittinger's May 1, 1923, report, which highlights some of themes and tactics used by Klan recruiters (it's estimated that perhaps two-thirds of public advocates for the new Klan were protestant preachers).

The following strange message broke out on the telephone poles all over Chariton early on last Thursday morning: "Principles of the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan exposed by Dr. James Franklin Sanders, eight and one-half years pastor of the Baptist church at Clinton, Iowa; nine years pastor at Keokuk, Iowa; six years financial secretary of Des Moines University. Thursday, April 26, commencing at 8:00 p.m. in the court house square, Chariton, Iowa. Free. The public is invited."

It was a cunningly ... worded hand bill. It would leave the impression that the meeting was for the purpose of attacking the aims of the "invisible empire" by the use of the word "exposed," and while it was perfect in grammar yet it was probably for the purpose of catching the crowd. Had the hand bill read, "The objects of the Klan will be defined by James Franklin Sanders" then everyone would have been aware of the intent of the meeting, but by the use of the word "expose" it was left in doubt. This was just a little cunning.

Well, as to the meeting. In the afternoon the portable band stand was hauled to the east side of the square for a speaker's stand and by the time Dr. James Franklin Sanders and his Major Domo appeared a big and eager crowd had gathered in front, with ears well poised and their bumps of curiosity splendidly inflated.

The doctor proved to be a good talker and charged his batteries with plenty of the galvanic fluid. His manner was pleasing and while at times his language was scathing at certain conditions, yet those opposed to his line of logic rather enjoyed it instead of taking offense, as he did trim down the rough edges, showing that he was a man of culture and consideration, even though one might not espouse his cause.

He made but little reference to the Ku Klux Klan. Maybe he realizes it is not a very fascinating title for what he terms a benevolent and useful order. He spoke once or twice of the "invisible empire," and often said, "we," meaning the order for which he was speaking. He said it stood for true Americanism and the individual who objected to that should take a canoe trip to the country from whence he came....

The first allegiance of a citizen of the United States should be to his government (Sanders said). The free schools should not become the pawn of any cult, creed or interest. The government alone should prescribe the education of its future citizens, and the parochial schools should be prohibited unless there was government supervision.

 A person of the Jewish faith was not eligible to membership because this was an organization based upon the belief in Christianity, and, even though a Jew might be just as patroitic as anybody and equally charitable it would embarrass him to deny his fath for the sake of membership. He would not do that. This was not a thrust at citizens of that faith (according to Sanders), because a person of the gentile faith does not feel aggrieved over the fact that he is ineligible to belong to Jewish associations. And the same thing might be said as to membership in the order of Knights of Colubus.

However, the speaker was somewhat forceful when he referred to the Lutheran and Catholic parochial school establishements in their dealing with primary education.

The speaker had a kindly feeling for the American negro, and it was not through any feeling of antagonism that the bars had been put up against that race (according to Sanders). But the Klan did not believe in negro rule. This is a white man's country in the same sense that it is a free country (Sanders said), and it should be kept free through the rule of men and women who had the right conception of freedom; and in like manner the superior race should govern --- not the inferior. But this did not preclude the rights of the black race, or any other people who had gained a foothold here.

The Klan believed in the putting up of the bars against rifraff humanity of the world (according to Sanders) and not letting them come here at the behest and for the purpose of increasing the fortunes of certain selfish interests who care nothing for them or for American society, just so they can wring dollars out of the transaction. This promiscuous immigration would have the effect not of improving their condition under the environment in which their exploiters would place them, but would degrade our present standards of citizenship, and if perpetuated would destroy the fabric entirely....

The industrial lord who reckoned dollars to citizenship and would demand an inferior man to supplant a superior was a national menace and should go across to the kind he covets and not bring them here.

No foreign born citizen was eligible to membership in the order. And this again (according to Sanders), not that foreign born citizens were not just as patriotic, honest and prosperous as others, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. It should not offend them, because there is no offense when the native born Americans are not permitted membership in the social organizations of foreign-born citizens ....

The speaker strongly censured the American press (not the rural press) for truckling to alien interests and those not tending to the betterment of social and governmental conditions, its subserviency to wealth and of the news sources being under the control of selfish and sordid interests....

 And the profesisional politician came in for his share. Too many of them were appealing to the mob spirit --- to the rabble vote, and not asking the support of ideals, or giving it....

And so this organization (the Klan) was for the purpose of assisting in the honest enforcement of law, bolstering up honest and well intentioned officials, and serving notice on others that they must do their duty or get out of the way..... It was no more nor no less than what had been in vogue all over the country before, known as the vigilante committee, but better organized with a broader scope....

The Klan gained strength in Lucas County and across Iowa during 1923, but 1924 and 1925 were peak years. In Chariton during 1924, the Klan would purchase the vacant United Presbyterian church building as a meeting place and prepare to host a giant regional rally. More about that another time.

Now THAT'S a Lutheran!

Great presentation by the Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber at the 2012 Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Youth Gathering July 18-22 in New Orleans. If you've already decided Christianity is a lost cause, fine. But if you've still got just a little hope, take the 20 minutes needed to watch this. (Credit to the Rachel Held Evans blog)

Ice cream, some socializing & music

We couldn't have asked for more Thursday evening. Light rains overnight had washed weeks of dust away and after a string of 100-degree days, daytime highs had been "just" in the mid-90s. As the sun dropped behind the big pin oak west of the patio, a cool breeze sprang up. And more than 100 of our friends turned out for the annual ice cream social on the Lucas County Historical Society museum campus.

For the second year running, Arlan Risbeck and friends provided the music --- classic country. That's Arlan on steel guitar. This was a multi-cultural event, too, since half the musicians were from Lucas County, the other half from Wayne. Arlan and his wife actually divide their time between Colorado and Chariton, returning every summer in part so he can participate in the jam circuit across southern Iowa.

In the barn, Bill Marner and Fred Steinbach served up ice cream, ice water and cookies and a couple of dozen folks spent the evening there visiting with friends after the music started. Most headed outside to the patio, however.

Bob Ulrich had arrived early to fire up the old Piper's peanut roaster (thanks for storing our last carton of Hy-Vee-provided peanuts in your cooler for a month, Jill --- at Piper's) and enlisted Logan's help to distribute the product.

And finally, there was a spectacular sunset as we were getting ready to go home --- but I was busy running my mouth and neglected to take a photo of it. So that, you'll have to imagine.

Lucas County's great courthouse debacle

This view of the second courthouse dates from July 4, 1876, when Chariton was celebrating the nation's centennial. That accounts for the crowd. I believe this is the west side of the courthouse, but can't be sure of that..

Lucas County's second couthouse, an attractive foursquare Italianate brick building with central cupola, proved to be a major embarrassment on several fronts so not too much is known about it, including who designed it or how much it cost. Construction apparently began during the summer of 1858, but because its heavy brick walls were built atop a foundation of hewn logs (what were they thinking?), it lasted only 30 years before being condemned in 1891 as unsafe and torn down.

Major cracks had begun to appear a few years after it was built and there seem to have been periodic scares that it was going to just fall down, taking at least some of the county's elected officialdom with it --- although that did not happen. This also was the building from the second floor of which angry Charitonians launched Hiram Wilson through a window with a rope around his neck after he shot and killed Sheriff Gaylord Lyman.

One line of speculation holds that the inadequate foundation was a product of the incompetence of the county judge and the larcenous nature of the county treasurer, who some accused of having made off with a good deal of cash during the construction process although charges were not filed. The treasurer did manage to bankrupt the county, however.

Dan Baker provided the following sketchy but pithy account of this ill-fated building's origins on pages 447 and 448 of his 1881 history of Lucas County. The building still was in use at the time.

At a special election held in June, 1858, the question of a new court house, to be built in the public square, was submitted to the electors of the county, and the proposition prevailed, by a vote of 598 for it, to 71 against it. The construction of the building was under the administration of Ethan Gard, as county judge. There appear no record for proposals to do any of the work, or furnish any part of the materials. However, the writer found in the "abandoned archives," in the garret, the following proposal:

Chariton, May 3d, 1858.

To the County Judge of Lucas County, Iowa:

I propose building the court house of Lucas county for the sum of thirteen thousand and five hundred dollars.

George Switzer.

There is no record evidence that the above proposal, nor any other similar proposition, was accepted. The whole affair seems to be enigmatical to the "oldest inhabitant," and the people have been in ignorance, to the present day, as to the amount of money the building cost them. Tradition says that the contract for the construction of the building was a verbal one, and given by Judge Gard to the county treasurer --- W.T. Wade --- for $13,500, the amount of Mr. Switzer's bid as above shown. That there were no plans and specifications to which the mechanics worked; when they came upon the ground each morning they would apply to Judge Gard for instructions, and the Judge would direct them to lay brick, or to do some certain kind of work until "further orders."

The building stands in the middle of the public park, is sixty feet  square, two stories in height, built of brick, upon which is a belfry, supporting a bell, which tells the people that the scales of justice are poised, and those desiring to be heard will draw near. The ground floor contains four office rooms, and a wide hall through the building north and south. The upper story contains the court room, sheriff's office, and county superintendent's office.

It is a traditional opinion freely expressed, that this temple of justice cost nearer twenty thousand dollars than it did thirteen thousand five hundred dollars, because of the loose manner in which its construction was managed. It resulted in a heavy draft upon the tax-payers, in that early day of the county's financial strength, as it bankrupted the treasurer, and the treasury as well. Whether the large amount of money the building purports to have cost, beyond the contract figures, ever went into it, is a question which is ever likely to remain a mystery. The treasurer was found to be largely in arrears in his official accounting, for which his bondsmen have never responded to the county. This is the result of the loose and criminal manner in which the affairs of the people are too frequently managed. However, a judgment was obtained against the treasurer --- W.T. Wade, and his sureties --- Thomas Wade, Hezekiah Pollard and Jacob Taylor, for the full amount of his official bond --- $5,000. His successor was James B. Custer, who at once balanced the books of the office, and found Wade in arrears with the varous funds in his hands, to the amount of $8,553.48; thus leaving a balance of $3,553.48 uncovered by his official bond, and upon which no judgment could have been obtained against his bondsmen had they been responsible. Therefore, adding the sum of $8,553.48 to the sum of $13,500, supposed to have been appropriated for the construction of the courthouse, it would make $22,053.48, that went --- somewhere.

Here's another view of the courthouse, also dating from July 4, 1876, with the Chariton Cornet Band (CCB) in the foreground. I think the view here is of the southwest corner of the building.

According to other accounts, the new courthouse was first occupied during 1860, although still incomplete, and was condemned by a grand jury during 1891. The board of supervisors ordered that it be torn down during the autumn of that year. County offices were moved into the Dewey (or Branner) Block on the southeast corner of the square until the new courthouse was built.

 A map of the square published in The Chariton Democrat of Oct. 3, 1889, contains a rough floorplan showing how the building was arranged then, two years before its condemnation. According to that map, the county treasurer occupied the northwest room on the first floor; the county audtor, the northeast room; the county clerk, the southwest room and the county recorder, the southeast room. A wide hallway ran north to south with vaults separating the offices on either side of it. On the second floor, the courtroom occupied all of the building's north front with the county superintendent of school's office in the southwest corner and the county sheriff's office in the southeast corner.

It was from one of the windows in that sheriff's office that the unfortunate Hiram Wilson was thrown by a lynch mob, with rope around his neck, during early July 1870 after having unwisely shot and killed Sheriff Gaylord Lyman.

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Ethan Allen Gard, who arrived in Lucas County with his first wife, Priscilla (May) Gard, in 1853, was farming in Cedar Township when the 1856 special state census was taken, but was elected county judge during 1857 and perhaps because of that moved into Chariton. A native of Preble County, Ohio, he was 32 when elected and by some accounts an attorney, too, among useful credentials for a county judge. He was defeated for re-election, however, during October of 1859 when, presumably, the courthouse was nearing completion.

The fact that he stuck around Chariton for more than 10 years after the courthouse was completed suggests that his fellow citizens did not hold him personally liable for difficulties with the county treasury --- criminally at least.

By 1860, Priscilla apparently had died as Ethan was enumerated in the census of that year, working as a grocer with minimal assets, with their daughter, Mary M., born ca. 1856.

He married Catherine Boyd, widow of William --- another grocer --- in Chariton during September of 1867 and, when the 1870 census was taken, their household included his daughter, Mary M. Gard, and her three daughters, Mary, Cora and Chloe (twins) Boyd. Ethan's occupation was given as real estate agent, but he had no assets. She was, by comparison, relatively affluent, owning real estate valued at $6,500.

That marriage does not seem to have worked out, and by 1873 he and daughter Mary were living on a claim in Prairie Township, Jewell County, Kansas. He moved later to Oklahoma and died in Yukon, Canadian County, Oklahoma, at age 85 on June 15, 1910. According to the 1910 census, he still was "working out" as a laborer in his 85th year. Yukon now is part of the Oklahoma City metropolitan area.

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Waitman Trippet Wade seems to have been the principal focus of Lucas Countyans' courthouse- and treasury-related ire, although Dan Baker attributed Wade's performance more to incompetence than larceny. "His method of business," Baker wrote in the 1881 history, "was shiftess and inexcusable and to it he was indebted for his downfall, and not to any criminal liability."

Wade and his first wife, Ruhama (Eakin) Wade, arrived in Lucas County from Virginia during 1853 and settled in Union Township. He was elected county surveyor in 1855 and recorder-treasurer in 1857, but driven from office in 1859.

Ruhama Wade reportedly died during February of 1857, when the youngest survivor among her 12 children was only three years old, and on June 27 of that year he married as his second wife the widow Nancy  (McNear) Connor. They were enumerated together in the 1860 census of Union Township, he with no assets and she, with real estate valued at $1,300.

Also during 1860, perhaps in search of a new financial start, Wade and friends headed for the gold fields of Colorado, but failed to strike it rich. When he returned, he discovered that Nancy had died on May 26, 1861. On June 7, 1862, he married for the third time --- in Appanoose County to Mary Robb and they had three children while living in Walnut Township, Appanoose County --- the youngest born during 1868 when Waitman was 55. He reportedly died in Appanoose County on Nov. 18, 1873, aged 60.

Dispatches from the holy war: 7/25

All 6,000 panels of the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt went up online this week, a little more than 30 years after the first deaths were formally attributed to the pandemic that killed many of the best and brightest of my generation, taking to date more than 600,000 lives in the United States --- gay and straight.

It's an amazing digital performance, accessible here, but be warned --- if you decided to look at all 48,000 blocks containing more than 94,000 names, each for a minute, it would take 33 days. This largest work of community folk art ever conceived now weighs 54 tons and, if spread out, would cover 29 acres or, if its blocks were laid end to end, stretch 50 miles.

The online project, in which the University of Iowa's Digital Studio for the Public Humanities played a major role, was launched in conjunction with a month-long exhibit of the quilt in Washington, D.C., now concluding as the International AIDS Conference proceeds there. Other partners in the digital project were Microsoft Research Connections, the University of Southern California's Annenberg Innovation Lab, Brown University, the National Endowment for the Humanities and, of course, the NAMES Project Foundation, custodian of the quilt. You can read more here.

The Washington, D.C., exhibit marks the first time the entire quilt has been on display since 1996, when all panels that had been created by then were spread on the Mall. Size now makes that impractical, so panels have been deployed in various configurations during July until all had been made accessible, concluding with rotating displays of 8,000 panels each over four days.

Since far smaller displays of quilt panels move around the country on a regular basis, I've seen a few --- spread on gymnasium floors, suspended for the ceilings of student and community centers. It's always a moving experience, especially the opening and closing rituals. If you ever have a chance to visit one of these exhibitions, please do.

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Although the quilt project was launched by Cleve Jones in San Francisco during 1987, the NAMES Project now is headquartered in Atlanta, oddly enough headquarters, too, for a purveyor of chicken sandwhiches called Chick-fil-A, also in the news off and on lately. I understand the franchise is iconic in the South, where some like their grits and gizzards served with sides of homophobia and other Christian values.

Chick-filet-A promotes itself as Christian business promoting Christian family values, a tactic which generally is fair warning to padlock your wallet to the seat of your pants, guard your private parts and hide your children. Chief Operating Officer Don Cathy, a Southern Baptist as one might expect, is a "guilty-as-charged" opponent of granting legal recognition to same-sex unions and the company, a regular contributor to a variety of anti-gay organizations.

And all that's fine with me. There's something to be said for knowing who the enemy is.

I see there are six franchises now in Iowa, the nearest in West Des Moines. Greasy has-been Mike Huckabee, distressed that so many unkind works have been said about the franchise and its family, has declared August 1 Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day. I doubt I'll drive up to West Des Moines to test the fare. If I want greasy chicken, it's available closer to home. But if that's your thing, feel free.

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Speaking of same-sex marriage, here's a clip prepared for the British "Out 4 Marriage" organization by the Very Rev. Dr. Jeffrey John, dean of St. Albans (Church of England). Parliament, which approved civil union legislation some years ago, now is moving toward extending full civil marriage rights to same-sex couples, a move opposed by the all-male hierarchies of both the Church of England and the Roman Catholic Church.

John has an interesting history in the church. Gay, he is in civil union with a fellow priest with whom he maintains a celibate relationship. Nominated during 2003 to be bishop of Reading,  his alleged friend Rowan Williams, archibishop of Canterbury, pressured him to withdraw in order to promote unity in the Church of England and the Anglican Communion as a whole.

That was the same year V. Gene Robinson was elected bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire, setting off much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Unity has proved elusive, and John as continued to speak out in a low-key sort of way, demonstrated here.

Myopia and crime scenes

I always figure you should report when you do things for the first time --- like inadvertently disturb a crime scene. Whoops.

Anyway, we got together at 6 this morning to do a little more cleaning on the square and at the start there were two of us working east on Braden from the northeast corner of the square --- one spraying weeds in northside cracks south of the Charitone; me, picking up trash on and along the southside sidewalk.

 Down by Constitution Park there were shards of broken glass on the sidewalk. Picked those up, boxed them and put them in the nearest garbage container. Looked behind the shrubs --- a computer keyboard (abandoned, I figured, in this throw-away day and age) and a broken CD case and CD. Piked those up and put them in the garbage, too.

Now if I'd been looking up instead of down, I might have glanced across the street and noticed that someone had kicked, knocked or in some other manner smashed in one of the Chariton Newspapers front doors. That might have suggested that the scattered electronics had originated somewhere specific. Maybe I could have called the police.

But I didn't, didn't notice and we moved on to the east-side alley to pull weeds, clear trash, etc. And a while later, along came a police officer who asked, "did you notice anything?"

Obviously, not enough. The lesson here may be, "keep looking up."

Moyers, DuPuis and perseverance

In addition to all of my intellectually and morally superior kinfolk and friends who live there, I've always figured that Bill Moyers offers good proof that good things can come out of Texas --- even the Baptist church (he was ordained in 1954). Plus he has consistently been taken to task by those on the right for his perceived attacks on conservatives and Republicans. My kind of guy.

So I was interested in his take on the National Rifle Association, expressed here in a five-minute clip, in the aftermath of the Aurora shootings. "Enabler of death," he calls the organization. "Paranoid, delusional, venomous."

There have been several calls this week to reinstitute restrictions on assault rifles and other weapons of mass destruction. Not likely to happen, of course, thanks to the lies and distortions of the NRA and like-minded admirers and their enablers, including politicians intent on re-election or election (including the incumbent president).

Few, including Moyers I suspect, want to wrestle guns, as the NRA contends, out of the hands of sportspeople, hobbyists and those with some apparent need to self-protect. But assault rifles, Glocks, 6,000 rounds of ammunition?

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The other encouraging thing about Moyers is that he's still going strong at age 78 --- and that's a positive thing whether one agrees with his politics or not.

Another grand old road warrior, Ruth DePuis, died over the weekend in Mason City at age 93.

I met Ruth more than 30 years ago when she was director of community relations at North Iowa Area Community College and was making the rounds of newspapers and other media in North Iowa looking for feedback on those news releases her office mailed out (no e-mail then) every week.

After retirement, she became a free-lance writer --- not because she exactly needed the money but because she needed to be doing. Her countless articles appeared in newspapers I worked for plus such then-influential publications as The Des Moines Register, Minneapolis Star Tribune and, on lighter topics, The Iowan Magazine.

And she was still reporting and writing as 90 approached. Way to go!

A grand fixer-upper; Chariton updates

Davenport's H.H. Andressen House

Having exhausted myself Saturday morning helping supervise younger and stronger backs as they evacuated the Stephens House attic of stuff ranging from a casket carrier to a printing press, I frittered away the afternoon looking online at vintage Iowa houses, including this one with promise but in need of a massive cash infusion.

We're getting ready to supplement attic insulation in the Stephens House --- which is why most of what had been stashed up there over the years has by now moved to the basement and elsewhere.

Anyhow, Davenport's H.H. Andressen house was a favorite of the day --- it can be yours for a mere $29,900 with potential preservation tax credits and other incentives available. There are catches, however, According to the Zillow listing, the building has no working electric, plumbing or heat and needs a new roof --- and that's just to start.

It's been mentioned earlier on a favorite blog, Old House Dreams, and a comment there from someone who  considered buying it reports his discovery that the cost of stabilizing the structure would range from $175-$200,000 and the pricetag for dealing with the interior easily could consume another $200,000 or more. Plus the neighborhood, although historic, still is a little rocky in places. So a brave rehabber with buckets of cash is needed. I hope one turns up.

It's an interesting house, in part because there seems to be some confusion about when it was built by Andressen (also frequently spelled Andresen), a native of Germany and principal in the German Savings Bank who arrived first in Davenport during 1855 and died there in 1906. It's located in the Gold Coast-Hamburg Historic District, favored by affluent German merchants during the latter half of the 19th century, overlooking downtown Davenport and the Mississippi from the north.

The style is Richardson Romanesque, but the build date --- given as 1870 in city assessment records --- seems off by about 20 years. There was no such thing as Richardson Romanesque in 1870. If you want to see similar brickwork and terra cotta detail, look at the Eikenberry-Crozier building on the southeast corner of the Chariton square, built in 1894. The Andressen house appears in its current shape on the 1892 Sanborn Fire Map and I'm guessing that at least the impressive main front was fairly new in that year. There may be an earlier house buried in the lower wing to the rear, which could account for the 1870 date.

Once the Andressens moved out, the house was coverted into 12 apartments and eventually allowed to deteriorate into its current state, reflecting the decline of its urban neighborhood.

Main stair (left) ascends from first to third floors; stairway at right leads up to the basement of the rear wing.

 The house also is interesting because it is built into the hill, giving the somewhat misleading appearance of a three-story structure from Sixth Street. In reality, there were only two public rooms on the first floor at the front of the house, a library and parlor divided by a foyer with a grand stairway that winds to the third floor ascending from the rear. The remainder of the lower level is basement, dug into the hill. The second floor contains a mix of bedrooms and public rooms, including the dining room, as well as kitchen and pantry. More bedrooms are located on the third floor front with attics and servants rooms behind.

The home is being marketed, among others, by the Gateway Development Group, which has an interesting Web site here. Be sure to hit the "Projects" and "Neighborhood Homes" buttons to see more houses in the Hamburg District, including preservation success stories and information about other old houses in need of a helping hand. The photos here were lifted from the Zillow listing and the Gateway Web site. A page devoted entirely to the Andressen house is here.

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I also found the Zillow listing for Chariton's Storie house, a good example of Second Empire styling (or at least it was). The listing gives a build date of 1900 for the house but it actually was built during 1877-78 by a pioneering family of druggists and physicians. The price is right now: $49,000 --- compared to $185,000 when I first wrote about it during 2005 (the photo here dates from that entry).

Although apparently in good shape, the poor old thing lost its coherence during an unfortunate attempt some years ago to turn it into an upscale bed and breakfast --- a project whose time had not come. The extensive porches are not original, but were added during that project. There is a lovely staircase (not photographed)and some remaining original detail, but the interiors are not inspiring. In the right hands, however, it still is a building with a good deal of promise.

Finally, here's the listing for the Stuart House on South Grand (above), which didn't sell at auction a couple of weeks ago --- probably because the reserve was in the neighborhood of $100,000. It's now priced at $99,500, which is optimistic for an old house here. There are a few interior photos, but not especially flattering ones. I'm never quite sure why some Realtors rely on the power of prayer rather than professional photography when attempting to market online.

Say a little prayer for me (and thee)

I like this little prayer, "attributed to St. Francis" even though it seems to have been composed about 1912. The saint himself, you may remember, died in 1226 --- so there's a substantial gap. You can find it on page 833 of the Book of Common Prayer, and elsewhere of course.

It seems appropriate on a day when the headlines still are full of reports on the Colorado theater shootings and quite a few sermons, I'm willing to bet, will be preached on the topic --- looking for someone to blame.

The lovely thing about the St. Francis prayer is that it shifts a good share of the responsibility for answers from the petitioned to the petitioner. Answer your own prayer, the words suggest. Need peace? Stop making the distinction between right belief and right practice --- and get to work!

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

If you meet the Buddha ...

I dusted the Buddha late yesterday and took him outside for a breath of air after experiencing existential angst while composing an egg salad sandwich. Although bronze, this is a budget Buddha dating from Zen Lutheran days --- not great art, but adequate.

The angst was related to the weather and insanity --- of that delusional young man in Colorado unhitched from reason and detached from createdness who thought it appropriate to assume the persona of a cartoon character and kill a dozen, wounding dozens more, in a crowded theater. And the fact he was able to arm his insanity with little effort in Colorado gun shops and online with an assault rifle, two Glock pistols, a sawed-off shotgun and some 6,000 rounds of ammunition. Some days it's better not to tune in the news.

But crazy has always been with us and always will be, clothed as cartoon --- or religion --- or unvarnished evil, so there's nothing to do but beware and guard against it in ourselves. And perhaps work on reasonable gun control laws. If you have an assault rifle and a Glock pistol or two in your gun cabinet --- you're approaching crazy. So watch out.

The Buddha was related to serendipity, however. Those of us who find comfort in community and meaning in form and tradition but experience the center of our cultural Christianity as hollow, scooped away by too many years of aversion therapy and problematic metaphysics, sometimes try to sneak up on the essence by using some form of the Buddha's path. He, after all, did not set out to create a new religion; merely to explore practices and principles applicable within them all.

I was thinking about that Friday morning before the routine visit to Richard Beck's "Experimental Theology" blog where I found this post, entitled "The Buddhist Phase," describing how Buddhism has informed his Christian practice in four areas --- mindfulness, non-attachment, recognition of moral failure as ignorance and Christian practice bound to faith: overcoming what he describes as the "lunacy" of mandatory belief paired with optional discipleship.

These threads are present in Christianity, too --- obscured in the recesses of the Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Quaker, anabaptist and other traditions --- and sometimes, I think, the Buddha can be helpful in enlightening them. I'm going to do a better job of keeping him dusted.

Please save me: 502 Osage Ave.

This is another of Chariton's fine old homes that appears to be teetering on the edge, although it seems to be structurally sound, has a decent roof and has been updated in a not unpleasant way not that long ago.

I don't know it's history, but an aunt of mine recalled sharing an upstairs apartment here with cousins back in the 1930s, when country kids attending high school and working on the side needed a place to live in town.

Built atop a stone-walled basement in Queen Anne style, it may date from the 1890s and although altered still has its fish-scale shingles in the gable ends. Can't tell if the finial atop the turret roof is original --- but it's certainly striking.

It's located at the intersection of North 5th Street and Osage Avenue, which continues east for two short blocks and then dead-ends. When this area was in its heyday at the turn of the 20th century, Chariton was spreading east along Osage and Auburn avenues. Then, in the second decade, the Rock Island railroad line was built, curving in broadly from the east before turning south and cutting off Osage's extension.

I've not seen this house marketed by a Realtor, although it may have been. The "for sale" sign in the turret window has a Russell prefix, 535-2039.