Bit of History -- April 23, 2025

“He was just a dog.  Mister-- that’s all;
And all of us boys called him Pug;
He was black, crippled and not very tall,
But he’d fight at the drop of hat for us all.”

On April 18, 1912, the Ridgeway Journal published the sad obituary of a dog named Pug.   Pug, an “old black dog known to all in Ridgeway and a friend to everybody who was kind to him.”  He lived at the home of his masters, the Spragg family.  “Speaking in a way, the old dog has raised every boy in the town; everybody swore by him and in his death we lose a friend that cannot be replaced.”

One evening, he was shot by a man “because he had a grudge against Pug’s owners” and because the dog had been barking in the street by his home.  

The poor pup survived for several days.  He was cared for by the boys on a bed of straw and rags in the back of the Ridgeway Journal office.  Many inquired after his welfare during the next several days, but Pug continued to suffer until a boy,“one of Pug’s best friends”, ended Pug’s suffering as an act of kindness.

The editor of the paper described the man “(we hate to refer to him as a man)” as a brute, “lower by far than the dog he killed.”  The writer went on to say that the “old faithful dog stands a much better change of reaching that spiritual mansion” than the one who shot him.  The article ended with “This is written with no apologies, to anyone.” 

Bit of History - January 29, 2025

Here are a few stories from the front page of the Ridgeway Journal dated January 25, 1912:

The Improvement Club was working on a plan to bring college courses to local farmers.  They had applied for Ridgeway to have one of several short courses offered by the College of Agriculture in Columbia.  The club was one of the first to apply and stood a good chance of getting the course, but needed at least 25 farmers to agree to pay $2.50 for the class and attend each of the five days of the course.  Courses included subjects such as poultry raising, dairying, soils, crops and stock judging.

The Journal spotlighted the live stock broker firm Polly, Lair, Rankin and Reaksecker as a “firm any town in the United States should be proud of.” They had shipped 27 car loads of stock to city markets from Ridgeway, Grant City and Blythedale the week of the article.  “They are on their horses riding in most parts of the country every day” looking for livestock to sell.   

The editor felt the need to remind people “don’t expectorate in public places”.  While at the Methodist church one evening, he had noticed one gentleman coughing and expectorating (spitting) on the floor.  Later, the editor was told that this person was “threatened with tuberculosis” and was exposing everyone in the church to the disease.  “In most places it is a misdemeanor publishable by a good fine”.  He felt that all should be welcomed in the churches and public places, but if contagious people couldn’t use a handkerchief and burn it when they got home, they should not be out and about.

Young people and farmers alike were invited to attend the “last number of the High School Lecture Course” at the Methodist Church, an illustrated lecture on Birds.  The lecture would include 150 colored slides and was given by Prof. John E. Cameron of Maryville.  “Prof. Cameron will have something to say about the value of bird in agriculture.” 

A practical joke was played on Ridgeway resident Lincoln Graham when he surprised his brother Earl  n Auburn Indiana with a visit.  The brothers hadn’t seek each other in five years.  As payback for the surprise, Earl arranged for the sheriff to arrest Lincoln.  The sheriff told Lincoln that his “appearance coincided with a fugitive’s description wired to Auburn last evening.”  The arrest was made near the Cook barber shop and may have gone on a bit longer, but someone “snickered and the whole plot was revealed.”  The victim joined in the laughter and was “one of the first to see the joke.”

Bit of History - September 22, 2021

Old papers are filled with little gems that the editors used a lot to fill up an odd space in a page.  Today’s bit of history comes from a Ridgeway Journal in 1912 and I have to quote this because it just can’t be reworded without losing the humor.

A North Missouri farmer, whose hog was killed by a train, wrote to the company’s claim agent for a settlement, thusly:  

“Dear Sir—My razor back strolled down your track a week ago today.  Your twenty-nine came down the line and snuffed his life away.  You can’t blame me, the hog you see slipped through a cattle grate; so kindly pen a check for ten, the debt to liquidate.”

He received the following reply: “Old twenty-nine came down the line and killed your hog we now, but razor backs and railroad tracks quite often meet with woe.  Therefore my friend we cannot send the check for which you pine.  Just plant the dead, plant o’er his head:  Here lies a foolish swine.”

This little piece appeared in several newspapers at that time, including the Journal, and I suppose it was a humorous reminder that the railroads were not going to take responsibility if livestock was killed by a train.  

Bit of History - September 15, 2021

Sadly, Ridgeway has a history of building fires that has devastated parts of the city.  I mentioned a few weeks ago that all the city records were lost in the fire that destroyed the Whistler & Eaton grocery on June 18, 1911.  That same year, the home of H. C. Polley burned to the ground on December 15, 1911. Ridgeway’s bucket brigade came out and was able to save most of the furnishings while school children watched during their lunch time.  (Ridgeway Journal, Dec. 21, 1911).  

Just a couple months later, the bucket brigade was called out again when Wayne Goodwin, an employee at the Central Hotel, heard a loud explosion and ran out to see flames coming out the windows of the Ridgeway opera house, owned by J. W. Leazenby.  The building was located on the east side of Main Street (Ridgeway Journal, Mar 7, 1912). The brigade tried their hardest, but the opera house and most of its contents were lost as well as the law office of R. Hopkins, L. Manuel’s general merchandise store and the “Racket” store belonging to J. C. Smith which all occupied space on the first floor.  In addition, three adjacent frame buildings were heavily damaged.  These included a shoe store, millinery shop and restaurant.  The heat was so intense that it blew out windows in businesses on the west side of Main Street.  The damaged buildings were woefully under-insured.  The fire caused about $30,000 of damage (over $800,000 today) and the owners combined only had about $12,000 of insurance.  

The writer of the article noted there had been no fires in the opera house that day or evening and the lawyer had let his fire go out.  He asked how the fire started and how it spread to the upper floors so quickly.  Despite searching the Journal pages for the next several months, I did not find a follow-up story with any explanations.

Dorothy Polley included some information about the Ridgeway opera house in the history of Ridgeway that she wrote for the “1976 Harrison County Bicentennial History”.  The opera house was built in 1900 by Frank Kern and George Pierce from brick made in their brick kiln.  The building was three full stories and was used by the community for many events including plays, lectures, medicine shows and graduations.

The Central Hotel burned in December of 1912 and would later be replaced by the New Ridgeway Hotel which was dedicated in 1917.  Reading about all these fires makes me very grateful that Ridgeway now has such a great volunteer fire department!