You Can Never Go Back

Well you can, just don't have any expectations on any level.

I visited the little town of Tindall (pop. 65) 6 miles north of Trenton, Missouri.  Here is where my great-grandfather lived and ran a little grocery/hardware store.  His son, my uncle Bill lived in the town also.  The only redeeming factor of the visit was that the store building still stands.  It briefly changed to a furniture store but has since been locked up for decades.

I wasn't to disappointed with the store but the town as a whole was deplorable.  Only one out of every ten little houses looked cared for by their owner.  More cars sat abandoned where they died, than there were cars functional.  What a depressing place to come home to.  Tindall is that place "across the tracks".

When I visited as a young lad (under ten years of age) we stayed in this house next door while the owner was away.  It was the first and only time I slept in a feather bed.  I remember too the owner had a photo hanging on the wall of someone lying in a casket.  I was fascinated by that picture even if I had to sleep directly under it.  Imagine a picture perfect pretty little white house, covered front porch with a white picket fence, this is it.

Across the road was my great-grandfather's home, a simple little farm house with an outhouse in back.  This place stands there now and bears no resemblance to it at all, believe me.  This very well was the finest home in Tindall.  I can only guess that the original house was torn down or burned and this new one was built on the same location.  And whoever built it has since moved on for whoever lives there now, doesn't care.

The town was dead.  I saw no one out and about that I could talk with.  Feeling fairly depressed, I was on my way out and planned to stop to take a photo of some trailer trash when I happened upon this sign leaning up against a building.  That is my Uncle Bill!  The sign was so worn and weather-beaten that I was unable to make out what kind of business he was running.  A house nearby had the front door open.  I went up and knocked.  No answer.  In Tindall you can go off and leave your home unlocked; doors open without a care.  Well, they have that going for them.

With my spirit lifted, the short trip to Tindall was now worth it.

Well, while fixing the above photo I could now see "EAGLE CERAMICS" had been painted over his name.  While there I could make out "greenware" on the bottom left and "instructions" to the right.  With the photo fixed I can make out "firing" above it.  Inside the broken window on the side I could see 100's of small clay figures on shelves.  Now it makes sense.  Someone who had a ceramics business in this building painted over a sign my Uncle Bill had made for some reason, maybe at his home.

I hadn't planned on a post for today as Missouri's list of weird things to see isn't that big and the one I had for today I couldn't locate.  The State Park I am in tonight is the first one of the trip that does not have showers.  But it is also the first one that has Wi-fi and a strong signal too.  "Shall we give them a bath or Internet access?"  I can imagine the big decision makers in the State Capitol on that one.  So thanks to the legislators of Missouri, you get a post about my great-grandfather's little town of Tindall Missouri.