Glennonville Hotel: Reverend Peters, Anna, Carrie Shute, and August Fremmeler.
The young twenty six-year-old priest, after the long trip from St. Louis, got off thetrain in Malden. Two Irish adventurers accompanied him. They headed for the livery stable where they picked up their horses, food, supplies and camping gear. They started on their eleven-mile journey to their destination in the wilderness - a destination that had been mandated by his Bishop. Father Peters was to settle the twelve thousand acres purchased by the Church to start a new colony and community. Archbishop Glennon had gotten the idea that European immigrants would be happier in a community of their own.
The horses plowed through the swamps, following an old abandoned lumber trail. At times they almost became mired in the mud. Their massive tails swatted the mosquitoes with every step. The three young men kept a wary eye out for panthers. They spied wash tub size turtles, cottontails, fox, bluebirds and cardinals. A water moccasin slithered silently by. The sun barely penetrated the trees and undergrowth. They encountered not another human being. A more forlorn and desolate place could not be imagined. Just as the sun was setting they came to a dry spot on a rise in the landscape. Father Peters declared, " This is the spot for the new colony".
A few renegade settlers lived in log cabins on the river's edge nearby. Legend has it that one of the early settlers had killed a co-worker in the Tennessee woods with an ax. He had fled across the Mississippi River to escape the law. Dunklin County Missouri was still raw swamp country. Few authorities ventured here. This old man, his wife and children (although not Catholic) became firm supporters of the new priest and his endeavors.
Only a week before Father had been visiting in his mother's comfortable home in Glasgow, Missouri. He had slept in luxurious feather beds. Starched white doilies covered the furniture. The orphaned servant girl, Anna served the bedtime toddy. John, the other young priest in the family, alternately bullied and teased the young girl in his guttural German. This little servant girl would someday be my beloved mother. Father Peters, his family, my mother's family and other friends from the close knit Saint Sisters Parish in Germany had immigrated to the United States in the late l800's. Mama's father and mother died within a year of each other. It was just a few short years after arriving in their new country. They were in their late forties. Little Anna, the baby of the family was taken in by Father Peters' mother. Her older brothers and sisters stayed in close touch with Anna.
Unable to make up his mind about a career, Father had studied law, and medicine. But then to the delight of his mother he had entered the seminary following in the footsteps of his older brother. His knowledge of law and medicine would soon become as important as his knowledge of theology. With promises of "we'll send for you, mother", he was off on another sanctified adventure.
Father and his companions set to work felling timber for their dwelling and the church. An old abandoned Moss Tie commissary building was called into service for shelter, a temporary church and office. It soon became apparent that lumber had to be cut and sold for their sustenance. Very little money was forthcoming from the St. Louis bishopric. Land must be cleared before a garden could be planted. Thankfully, there was a good supply of game.
It was a hot humid day. Father Peters and his brother were working on the backbreaking chore of clearing the land when there appeared a man and his three sons in a horse drawn wagon. It was my grandfather and his half-grown sons! Their wagon was filled with household supplies, tools, and clothing. A tarp covered their precious musical instruments. They were headed west. They had left their beloved wife and mother, Christina, in a grave in Kentucky and set out to start a new life. The five daughters would follow when their father settled. They paused to chat, share a chunk of bread and a cup of water and their week old newspaper. Upon finding that my Grandfather was a Catholic (although English and not German), Father Peters persuaded them to "stay right here". It was also a portentous sign that grandfather and his sons could read and write. They could speak English and play music. Not a bad combination for this rag tag group of wanderers. With these talents they would become valuable members of the community.
Father Peters spent long evenings in his study laying out plans for roads, laying out the town and designing plans for the new church and school. He petitioned the Local County government to start a series of drainage ditches to reclaim the swamps for farmland.Spring floods had devastated his earlier attempts at gardening and farming.
Grampa and his extended family.
At last it was time to invite the hand picked German Catholics to come to the new colony to buy farmland. Little Anna's older brother was one of the first to arrive. Later he would send for Anna. This was the same little servant girl who had worked for Father's mother. All grown up! She was to help run his two-story hotel that was needed for the newcomers and the timber workers. It was one of the first business enterprises in the new community. The hotel became a gathering place. It was here that my father, a guitar-playing woodcutter, wooed and married Anna. A merchant, Ben Michel, set up a general store. A blacksmith arrived to do business. Reluctantly, Father hired a half- literate teacher to teach the children. Father just could not find time to take on this additional chore himself. It was not an easy task for the English-speaking teacher to teach the German children.