Showing posts with label St. Joseph. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Joseph. Show all posts

Monday, September 28, 2009

The house where Jesse James was shot


During my growing-up years, once in a blue moon something would take me and my parents through St. Joseph, Missouri. In the early sixties, my mom and I were in that town weekly to watch the wrestling matches from our front-row seats.

We'd pass by the old Jesse James home/museum, and I remember wanting very badly to see inside. It was in a different location then; it's been moved to the grounds of the Patee House museum.

Even though my desire to visit the home had all but faded, I decided to make my childhood wish come true anyhow. Cliff says he doesn't understand what the big deal is about a "scum-sucking outlaw who was a thief and a killer". Well, I used to watch cowboy movies, and they tended to glorify Jesse; kids are impressionable, you know. Also, living in north Missouri, my parents and I often passed by banks Jesse had robbed, or the bridge under which he hid to wait for the train he was going to rob; my parents would tell me the stories, after which Daddy would burst into a song about "that dirty little coward that shot Mr. Howard and laid poor Jesse in his grave", and Mother would join in. (You can listen to the song HERE.) Oh yes, Jesse was our very own.

Cliff and I have been to the other James home at Kearney, so this one was really a let-down. At Kearney, there's a guide to go through the house with you to tell you interesting facts; you're invited to ask questions.

At the "death house" in St. Joe, you give your money to a guy who is so stoned that, when he stands up, he has to hold onto the wall. He asks if you have anything smaller than a twenty (he asked this of everyone who came in while we were there).

There's nobody to answer questions. Most of the things you see in the house are replicas, although there is quite a bit of Frank James memorabilia.

This is a replica of the needlepoint wall hanging that Jesse was straightening when that dirty little coward, Robert Ford, shot him.

The famous bullet hole, made much larger by souvenir-hunters who took pieces of plaster from around it, is possibly not a bullet hole; because when they exhumed Jesse's body, there was no exit wound. Although of course the bullet could have exited through an eye socket. And Cliff says he can't imagine a bullet shot at such a close range could keep from exiting.

There's a casting of Jesse's skull showing the entry wound

And a casting of his teeth.

I really would have loved to tour the Patee house, since we were right there; but all St. Joe museums are only open for four hours on Sundays, and I wanted to have plenty of time to explore the Glore Psychiatric Museum.

If you're wanting to learn about Jesse James firsthand, I recommend the museum at Kearney over the St. Joseph location; although the $2 admission for seniors, I suppose, makes it worthwhile at this one. Just be sure and take exact change.


Sunday, September 27, 2009

The Glore Psychiatric Museum

We made it to St. Joseph today; it's supposed to be the last warm day for awhile, so we grabbed the opportunity for a motorcycle ride. We did sort of a whirlwind tour of some museums; on Sundays, they're all only open from 1 PM to 5 PM, so that limited us, since we always strive to get home while it's still daylight when we're on the bike.

The most interesting of the museums we saw today was the Glore Psychiatric Museum.

It's unbelievable how inhumanely the mental patients were treated all through the 1800's, and even on through the 1900's; really, they were punished for behavior over which they had no control, as if they were criminals. Less than ten per cent of them ever got out once they were commited.

I found a website three pages long that tells, in words and pictures, some of the things Cliff and I saw today; if you're interested, click HERE.

You can click on any of these pictures to make them larger.

One poor lady had swallowed all these things over a period of time. She died on the operating table.

This is the hollow wheel; evidently people thought it was good for patients to tread this thing endlessly, like a hamster in a wheel.


Oh sure, that's gonna help a mentally ill lady.

Or this.

Unbelievable.