[St. Charles Banner-News, no date]
WRITER INDICATING
NAME AS RUFFNER WATSON RAPS GOV’T
Predicts Land In TNT
Area Will Go For A Song. Paraphrases Gray’s Eulogy.
O’Fallon, Mo.
March 22, 1941
Banner News
St. Charles, Mo.
On a bleak
day in January I walked from a residence near Howell, Mo., to the end of a
private lane where I had left my car. Several times I looked back at a white
nine room frame dwelling with a moss green roof. The twin cedars in the yard
seemed to stand guard in solemn respect, and the big maple tree swayed gently
in the wind. Memories crowded upon memories as I made my way along the lane to
the car. That house was my home. I had moved from it several weeks before, but
there were a few things left behind for which I had returned, knowing that I
could easily take these remaining articles in my car. I was surprised to find
that a trench had been cut across the lane leading from the county road to the
house. It was impossible to enter with a car, so I walked in and carried a few
things out to the car, a distance of more than a quarter of a mile. I had
supposed that the government would notify the owners a reasonable time in
advance if it became necessary to block the private road in any way. The option
had not yet been approved by the government and the workers were utterly
without authority to leave an open ditch across a private lane that was still
in use by the owners. Plenty of other instances of arrogant abuse of authority
could be cited by landowners. I left some things I really wanted to take and
went on to the car. I drove past the Francis Howell High School which I had helped
to construct and from which I obtained the first four year graduation diploma
ever issued by that school. I passed the South Dardenne Presbyterian Church
where my father was pastor for thirty-seven years. When far out along a road
leading to Dardenne I could still see my home: cedars, elms, maples, green roof
and all, and, as I left the community not expecting to return, a depressed
sensation came into my chest—that feeling that we all call a lump in the
throat.
But why all
this maudlin sentiment? Others also had to leave their old birthplaces and
accept the terms offered by duly appointed agents of the government; and the
best thing to do was to be as cheerful about it as possible.
But the
people of Howell Prairie know now how they were duped by specious promises made
by representatives of the government. Who compelled the War Department to
employ Mr. McDowell? And who forced the government to approve the options and
accept bona fide deeds after title had been carefully proved? When the War
Department moulded the plans for the Weldon Spring TNT Project did the hand of
the potter shake? What’s the purpose of law? The government has the tract and
will proceed with operations regardless of technical questions concerning
ownership. We are now advised that a taking act will be put into effect and all
of the area will be taken over at once by the government. In other words, the
government will get the land for a song and sing it themselves.
We hear
much of sacrifice. In all wars the cabinet officers, the captains of industry,
the editors of big newspapers, and the district attorneys, all ride in their
fine limousines, while the sacrifices are made by the men who always get a used
car when they would like to have a new one; by the people who make their old clothes
do; by the great middle classes who are not wealthy and yet are not paupers.
Those responsible in the War Department knew well how to proceed in their
effort to get the people out quickly and easily. Now they have honored the
deeds they choose to honor, and why should a little abstract quality called
honesty interfere with arrogant and dictatorial authority?
Paraphrasing
the words of Thomas Gray, I am impelled to suggest that “Grandeur has heard
with a disdainful smile, The short and simple annals of the poor. ”
RUFFNER WATSON
O’Fallon, Mo.
==========
[no source, no date]
F. P. STEWART WRITES
TNT AREA POEM
His Theme Has To Do
With The Family Residence At Howell.
Francis P.
Stewart, now of St. Louis, but formerly of Howell, one of the towns obliterated
by the TNT area, has written a verse which describes in a jovial way some of
the inconveniences and hardships experienced by the former residents.
Here is the poem:
The old elm tree
I couldn’t
take with me
When the government made me flee
From the
old town of Howell
I well knew it was useless to
Put up a
howl!
FRANCIS P. STEWART
Stewart is
one of [?] mer highly respected [?] and lived in a beautiful [?] neer home
right the [?] the romantic burg about [?] the poem speaks. Peop [?] remember
Howell can hard [?] recalling the fine brick [?] rather antiquated, but [?]
glamour of the south still [?] ing to the general outline [?] forms a
background of [?] memories. On one occas [?] camera snapshot was tak [?] Mr.
Stewart standing in [?] of the home against a [?] old tree. In front of [?]
Tony, a shepherd dog, of [?] ordinary intelligence, who [?] ing to well
authenticated [?] could drive cows from [?] and make complex judgm [?] his own
account. When [?] was told which opening in [?] field through which to dr [?]
cows he followed inst [?] wich uncanny understanding.
We are
sorry that due [?] tographic difficulties we [?] duce only Mr. Stewart’s [?]
ness as he stands in front [?] tree. We take pleasure [?] so.
