Welcome to Forgotonia

Maid Rite, Macomb, IL

Originally uploaded by Rural Rose

Randolph House

Originally uploaded by Rural Rose

The downtown courthouse square in Macomb has fallen on some hard times.

In addition to a recent fire on the the south side that destroyed two businesses, several stores have closed and still sit empty. And, (while this is just my opinion and preference as a consumer), stuff that IS moving in seems less-than-friendly to college students, their parents and professors in a university town, such as a shop selling items related to …being Catholic (?). (Um, yeah.)

The Randolph House on the east side–which was once part of a grand hotel where Abraham Lincoln spent the night and gave a speech–appears to be somewhat neglected. Lately I’ve been wondering: who owns the building? Are there any plans for restoring it? Does it fall under the historic preservation protection?

I haven’t done much digging around for the answer, but thought I’d throw it out here and see if anyone might know the score.

I have posted a couple of entries in the past about the Spoon River Bridge (located in an area made famous by the Spoon River Anthology) being listed as one of the “most endangered” historic sites in Illinois.

Two weekends ago, I set out to take in the sights of the bridge and anything else interesting along the way.

Taking in the turns (and the little towns) along Highway 136

As we left Macomb and headed into Fulton County, the charmingly self-contained, yet ghost-town-y feel of one of the first little towns on the way, Table Grove, IL, was heightened by the cold wind and gray sky.

The “Antiques” shop had (for some reason) a sheet of plywood nailed above the door with the hand-stenciled words BOYCOTT SPEED LUBE. But it and most of the other stores around the small square seem to be abandoned and /or filled with loose junk, the kind of which that might be left over after a garage sale. The little store advertising “The future of TV” on its sign appears to have ceased operations decades ago, at least judging by its storefront contents. Only the bar, Rick’s Place (with its marquee outside stating “It’s mushroom time,” which the locals understand), appeared to be open and drawing customers.

See some highlights below from this mini-venture into our “forgotten” land.

(Or check out this and other Forgottonia-region shots on Flickr.)

The old school house in McCall, IL

Originally uploaded by Rural Rose

When I was a kid, there was a sign just near here that read “McCall, IL — Population: 8.”

This little old school house is just a mile or two west of my parents’ house (where I grew up).

My dad went to school in a one-room country school house just like it, and just down the road from here. He says he remembers playing in a baseball game against kids from this school.

I wanted to capture it because, even though it’s always been a landmark down the country road I grew up on, I know it won’t be there forever. One of those things you look at a million times and don’t pay much attention to, but then feel surprised and a little saddened when it’s gone.

(There was another one less than a mile from home to the east, and it got torn down a couple of years ago, just a few months after I went to take pictures of it.)

This schoolhouse is located along what is now being called the Mormon Martyrdom Trail. More on that later.

I’ve been trying for quite some time now to tell you the strange story about what happened to the old Carthage College campus.

I’ve tried to tell you–in words–why the story is kind of a big deal, and just how drastic things had become at the former college in my tiny hometown (Carthage, IL). But lo and behold, the cliche comes true: a picture tells a thousand words. Or in this case, a set of photos.

The shots below were taken inside the old Carthage College auditorium, which is finally being restored after having been left for dead in the 1990′s, a fact which I have blogged about rather extensively.)

I recently discovered (via Flickr) this set taken inside the abandoned auditorium building (quite awhile before the restoration was being planned). They tell, on their own, the destruction that was allowed to happen at this once-prosperous place: (please check out this slideshow below)

Like I said, the pix say it all. But here’s a super-quick re-cap:

1. Carthage College (now located in Kenosha, WI), was originally located in my hometown (Carthage IL), but picked up and left town because the existing location was so out-of-the-way (so deep in the Forgotonia region) that Chicago students couldn’t get there easily.
2. Carthage College had been a fairly prestigious little school. Interestingly, (as this week’s news story says), the first-ever chapter of Circle K was started there. Most people who know of the liberal arts school now located near Chicago have no idea where its name comes from.
3. After the campus closed, Robert Morris moved in and then left, and then a strange, strange saga began (including the “Carthage International College” chapter), eventually ending in the campus being left to rot and crumble for many years. There’s even a photo in this set of a luggage tag left behind by the seemingly on-the-lam Korean “owner,” who virtually disappeared after buying—and abandoning—the campus property.

The photos were taken by Craig Finlay, one of my  fellow WIU English-program graduate students.

Craig has a hobby of, um… trespassing in abandoning buildings to shoot the decadent art that lies inside. If you haven’t already watched the slideshow above, check out the set here (to read the cutlines and get some details).

I am so that happy that leaders in my hometown are investing the time, money, and concern into fixing the place up. Last week’s Hancock County Journal-Pilot (my hometown paper) featured an update on the progress of restoring the old auditorium building.

Do you remember the old Carthage College, or Robert Morris, or Carthage International College, or made-up-university-that-solicited-funds-via-the-Internet? Tell me in the comments below!

As you might remember, I blogged awhile back about endangered sites in the area, which include the “Bernie Dot” bridge in Fulton County.

Unfortunately, things are not looking good for this structure on the famed Spoon River, which you might have heard of because of its eponymous Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters.

At least some citizens are expressing concern about its future. (But, apparently, not so much about the side of beef a-floatin‘ on by!)

Linked to story from the PJ Star, and copied below:

Spoon River bridge gets a reprieve Fulton County Board approves structural analysis of historic span

LEWISTOWN — Instead of having one of its trusses removed, the historic Bernadotte Bridge received a stay of execution Tuesday night from the Fulton County Board.

But engineers warn the bridge is so far gone because of flooding and debris piling against it, a collapse into the Spoon River is very likely.
“The bridge is going to fall into the river,” Fulton County Engineer Bill Kuhn told board members. “It’s just a matter of when. We’re pretty much at the end.”

Several county residents spoke in favor of restoring the bridge and against the county’s agenda item to remove a “pony truss” to allow debris and water to flow past. Dawn Stambaugh, who serves as chairwoman of a committee formed to save the bridge, said removing the truss not only would make the bridge useless but would make it unstable and the rest would soon fall.

“The bridge would be less likely to stand if the pony truss is removed,” she said of the structure that is used for foot traffic and bicycles.

The board heard from six residents who urged members to pay for a study that would examine the structure before making a decision.

“That bridge is important to me,” said Bernadotte resident Tyrel Belless, who lives next to the bridge. “I don’t want to see it go.”
Bernadotte is about 23 miles southwest of Canton.

The board voted to pay $7,000 for a structural analysis of the bridge before deciding what to do next.

Kuhn said the bridge is supported by stacks of unreinforced blocks, which are getting knocked away each time the river floods.

Debris, including tree branches, logs and currently a dead cow, floats down the river and gets pushed against the already weakened structure.

“I was afraid we were going to lose it last winter,” Kuhn said. “A big ice jam came through and almost took it out.”

Casting the only vote against the survey was board member Don Zessin. Member Mat Fletcher abstained.

The board will take up the issue again once the study is complete.

In the meantime, Stambaugh said she is happy for now that the board decided to wait. “They’ll have some knowledge about what they’re looking at,” she said.

I misspoke the other day when I mentioned that the Bernadotte Bridge is on the list of endangered places in Illinois. I might have made it sound like the bridge was just added to 2009 list (which was released just this week). But it turns out that’s OLD news, yo. The Bernie Dot bridge is endangered, but it’s on the “archived” list.  The new addition for this region is in fact an old-fashioned, family-owned pharmacy in Canton. After reading about it (see an excerpt below), I hope both it and the Bernie Dot Bridge can be saved!

2009 Ten Most Endangered Historic Places

Lewis Pharmacy

“The interior of the historic pharmacy remains virtually unchanged from its opening in 1915, when it was termed the finest drug store in Illinois. The shop retains its original cabinetry, booths, soda fountain, checkerboard floor and decorative art glass. The pharmacy was operated by the Gustine family until 1937, when it was sold to the Lewis family who operated it for an additional 72 years. An elderly Edward Lewis, Jr. finally retired and closed the pharmacy in February. The hope is to find a new owner that would like to preserve this historic institution, but if an appropriate buyer can not be found, the furniture and fixtures will soon be sold at auction. While Canton is an Illinois Main Street community, it does not currently have a local landmark program to protect historic buildings from demolition.”

For a detailed list of all 155 sites, visit the “Ten Most” Archives.

(P.S. This makes me wonder about the old soda fountain in Macomb’s Ford Hopkins drug store on the square. Anyone know how much of the soda fountain counter in there is original?)

(P.P.S. Sadly, here is a list of places already lost.)

According to an Associated Press story yesterday, something in Fulton County has been named to the watch list of endangered historic places. The story had about a sneeze’s worth of information, though, so I went in search of some more deets.

Apparently (according to this site) the item in need of preservation is the bridge in Bernadotte—pronounced by the locals sometimes as “Bernadette,” like as in Bernadette Peters, or “Bernie Dot” (which totally just makes me giggle every time I hear it).

But giggling aside, I hope the old bridge can indeed be saved, because, for among other reasons,

“…It spans the Spoon River in an area that gained notoriety after poet Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology was published 1915.”

PS: Thank Wikipedia for this helpful bit of history:

The unincorporated village of Bernadotte, in Fulton County, which is four miles north of Ipava on the Spoon River, has the distinction of having once been considered as the site for the capital of Illinois, prior to the capital being located at Vandalia in 1820. Vandalia was selected over Bernadotte by the difference of one vote.

(But Vandalia, of course, got the boot, too.)

….and they lead up to the Sherman Hall bell tower. I think. But I’m not sure.

And yes, I took a camera out into the hallway at work and took a picture of a closet.

That’s not weird.

I Mean, Like They Say, Forgive Us Our Trespasses…),

But If, Hypothetically, I HAD Been There, These Were the Pictures I Would’ve Taken:

Ever since I was a teenager, I have been obsessed with the legend of Vishnu Springs—the site of a once-popular resort that’s now a ghost town, hidden deep in a ravine in McDonough County.

Despite having grown up just a few minutes down the road from the place, I’d never heard of it until my late teens, when my aunt and uncle—who had gone to nearby Western Illinois University at the height of the hippie era—were reminiscing about how they’d hung out at a commune in the woods, a building that had been the Vishnu Springs hotel, when they were students.

The site, they told me, was completely hidden from the road, and it wasn’t really near anything, but was a few miles north of the village of Tennessee, Ill.—just down the road from my hometown of Carthage, and only a few miles west of Macomb and WIU.

You go out in the country, they said, you get to this certain spot, and then you have to crawl back through the brush, walk a long way through the trees and down into a deep ravine.

And then, after you’d hiked back quite a ways, there stood the old hotel— a place where legendary Chicago mobsters may or may not have stayed.

Vishnu had been a resort in the early 1900’s, a place where rich folk came to bathe in the natural spring because they believed it held magical powers.

It was once so popular that the railroad even built a line directly between Vishnu and Chicago, they said. And now there was nothing left but the old hotel buried deep in the woods.

I sat spellbound as they described the place to me. It was like finding out the Titanic itself had been lying at the bottom of our farm pond all these years and no one had ever thought to mention it.

I thought about Tennessee—which I knew to be nothing more than a spot in the road on the way over to Macomb, a smattering of crumbling houses and trailers with seemingly permanent yard sale set-ups in the front yard—and the whole thing sounded as magical as if my home stomping grounds had once been connected to Oz.

Over the years I’ve hoped for the chance to see the place, but the property was privately owned. I knew the general location but wasn’t sure exactly how to find it.

And, if I were not afraid of getting in trouble, I would admit here that finally, a few weeks ago, I got a chance to see it.

But I’m not going to admit that.

I’ll just say that if you ever did happen to get to see it, you’d find the spot to be not much to look at itself.

I mean, it’s really just a dilapidated, unremarkable building.

It’s only if you’d try to imagine the life that had once come through the place that you feel like you’d seen something special.

Then, you’d be angry at the idiots who have felt the need to leave their mark there. Because, unfortunately, as the hotel has sat idle, it’s been a graffiti magnet.

If I had been there, I would tell you that I couldn’t understood how a place of such historical significance could be left in such disrepair—why no one has ever undertaken the project of at the very least getting a historical marker made.

But this week there’s a bit of news in the local media about Vishnu Springs.

Last weekend, the local historical society took a trek to Vishnu, bringing some local news reporters along, and one local paper mentions the possibility that the place could, eventually, come back to life some day.

According to the Macomb Eagle, “…WIU received the 220 acres as a gift from the granddaughter of the early 20th century owner, Ira Post. Brush has been cleared, the hotel has been inspected, trails have been made and plans are being forged to restore the ghost town into a site of natural and archaeological studies.”

While so far the plans to do something with the grounds sound rather nebulous, it’s good to know there are at least people thinking about what can and should be done.

I just hope that while the plans are taking shape, the hotel and grounds can be protected from further damage.

It’s not much to see, but it’s something worth saving.

Because, if I had been there, I would say I could almost hear the train whistle as I walked around the grounds. The bustle of women in big hats and dresses. The bubbling spring. The breath of life once breathed in this rural, remote Forgotonia.