The city of Keokuk has long been associated with thriving commerce and transportation before it was incorporated in 1847. The location of the Des Moines Rapids in the Mississippi River made it necessary for steamboats to unload passengers and freight and arrange for portage around the rapids. Packets, excursion boats, tows, and rafts navigated up and down the river stopping at Keokuk along their way.

Many businesses flourished at the foot of these rapids making the settlement a major stopping off point for people and products continuing up the river or being transferred to prairie schooners taht transported goods to interior areas.

Most of the earlier commerce was carried on around the "levee", at the foot of Main and Johnson Streets, and in an area called "Rat Row." At this time the city had not expanded up the timber covered bluffs above the river.

Another natural barrier was the Mississippi River itself and attempting crossing from east to west was sometimes hazardous. The ferry "Salina" was one of the local boats that carried passengers as well as freight across to the opposite banks. In the winter crossings were made on the ice with sledges and sleighs.

Consequently, in 1866 the Keokuk & Hamilton Mississippi River Bridge Co. was formed with the construction beginning in 1869 and continuing for two years until April of 1871. This was the first combination roadway and railway bridge built across the Mississippi River. The construction contract was awarded to the Keystone Bridge Company of Pittsburgh which was one of Andrew Carnegie's first business ventures at a cost of $850,000.

The new "Iron bridge" furnished another link for commerce between east and west and for freight and immigration. It was said that this bridge was one of the wonders of the nineteenth century - at least to the people of Keokuk. The total length of the bridge was 3800 feet and accommodated railroad cars, horse and wagon teams, and foot passengers.

Keokuk was the terminus of five different railroads: The Toledo, Wabash & Western, The Toledo, Peoria & Warsaw, The Keokuk & St. Louis, The Keokuk & St. Paul, and The Des Moines Valley Railroad. A locomotive named the "Iowa" was the first to cross the Keokuk - Hamilton Bridge on April 19, 1871. The bridge was opened to the public on June 14, 1871.

In 1916, the bridge remodeling project was completed adding an elevated roadway that accommodated wagons, automobiles and pedestrians. Today, the old iron bridge is used for rail traffic on the lower level and while the upper road is used for an observation deck allowing one of the finest views of Lock and Dam #19, the Keokuk hydro-electric plant, the Geo. M. Verity Riverboat museum and the Keokuk Union Depot.

As early as 1881, El Paso leaders promoted the idea of creating a place along the base of the Franklin Mountains to provide visitors a panoramic view of the area. The automobile brought new attention to the idea, and in 1920, the city council and Mayor Charles Davis approved construction of a scenic drive. Finished in October 1920, the route became a popular attraction. The 1.82-mile drive reaches an elevation of 4,222 feet, 500 feet above the Rio Grande. In 1932, the city contracted to widen and pave the road, and in 1934, Civilian Conservation Corps Company 855 (Fort Bliss) carried out additional culvert work. Scenic Drive continues to attract visitors to the view of El Paso, Ciudad Juárez and the surrounding Chihuahuan desert.

At the turn of the 20th century, the Northern Texas Traction Co. found success with an interurban railway that operated between Fort Worth and Dallas. In 1911, a group began planning a new interurban that would run from Fort Worth to Cleburne by way of Everman, Burleson and Joshua. By that time, Burleson had approximately 700 residents and an active business district, and the city incorporated in 1912. The Fort Worth Southern Traction Co. came to town that year seeking employees and arranged with businessman and community leader Albert H. Loyless to be their local representative. He moved his Loyless-Robbins Pharmacy from a two-story wooden building across the street to a new brick building at this site. The traction company constructed an electrical plant and freight dock behind the building, and the pharmacy, complete with soda fountain and interurban ticket counter, occupied the front of the orange-brick structure. The first public run of the electrical train line came through Burleson on September 1, 1912. From that date until 1931, the train carried people in and out of town, brought goods to them from other cities, and helped make the pharmacy a community center. In 1935, a few years after the interurban ceased its service and motor coaches and automobiles took its place, Loyless, accepting the position of Burleson Postmaster, moved his business next door to the Post Office. Robert Deering bought the former pharmacy building and from it published his newspaper, the Burleson News (later Burleson Dispatcher). The city later purchased the building for use as a visitors center.

The job of raising money was the most difficult, and it fell largely on Borglum and a few South Dakota businessmen. They hoped to persuade a few tycoons to underwrite the whole project, and when their appeals fell on deaf ears, the project bogged down. However, in 1927 a monument drive was started in the South Dakota schools, and when the youngsters willingly gave their nickels and dimes, everyone took heart.

The big break came that same year, when, in a show of faith that held out the promise of federal assistance, Calvin Coolidge agreed to vacation in the Black Hills. The committee immediately announced that there would be a dedication ceremony when the President arrived, and Borglum began to plan the show.

By the time the presidential party reached the hills, everything was ready. Hanging Squaw Creek, renamed Grace Coolidge Creek, had been stocked with rainbow trout and blocked with hidden nets so the fish could not swim away. "This is either the best trout stream in the world," Silent Cal said as he pulled out his tenth trout on his tenth try, "or I'm the best fisherman that ever was."

The night before the dedication a huge barbecue was held in nearby Keystone. There was music and dancing. Huge sides of beef and buffalo were roasted over open fires, and there was enough mountain moonshine to please everyone.

In the morning, Borglum hired an open-cockpit airplane and flew over the summer White House, sprinkling rose pedals in honor of the First Lady. The pilot dipped his wings and Borglum waved to the group below, then hastily landed to get ready for the ceremony.

A huge crowd was slowly gathering in front of the mountain as the presidential limousine was pulled up the final grade by a team of horses from a local stable. The crowd cheered when the President stepped from his automobile wearing his usual New England vested suit - with a ten-gallon hat and fancy, hand-tooled cowboy boots. Without any fanfare, Coolidge walked to the speaker's platform and stood their, solemnly shaking hands with the children who had lined up early to receive that honor.

After the President's speech, Borglum was slowly lowered down the face of the mountain. The crowd grew silent as the sculptor carefully drilled four pilot holes for the head of George Washington; then they began to cheer wildly as he waved and walked back up the face of the mountain.

Borglum's crew of hard-rock miners carved for over fourteen years. The monument was plagued by financial problems as the country plunged into the depression of the 30's, but Borglum refused to give up. The same bickering that had destroyed Stone Mountain threatened Rushmore at times. The businessmen temperament of the committee sometimes clashed with the artist's ego, but fortunately everyone agreed that the carving was what counted and the bickering never got out of hand.

As the giant heads (proportioned to men 465 feet tall) took shape, Borglum ran into unexpected problems. Jefferson was started on Washington's right, but a poorly placed charge of dynamite sloped the forehead, beyond repair, and the design had to be changed. Borglum blew the nascent head off the mountain and stated again moving Jefferson to Washington's left side. This forced Roosevelt's head back into the rock. Then a hidden fault forced Roosevelt's head even further back, until the final carving ended within ten feet of the canyon that lies behind the mountain. Other problems were caused by traces of heavy deposits of brittle feldspar, while veins of silver run like worry lines across the face of Abraham Lincoln.

In the early 20th century, soon after the development of the automobile, travelers, city officials and others began planning for a network of paved overland routes. In the era before the advent of the interstate highway system, road associations provided the vision and the promotion, and states and municipalities provided necessary capital. Early results were piecemeal and inconsistent, but the Good Roads Movement, the National Highway Association and similar organizations continued efforts to improve routes on a national scale. In 1914, the Automobile Club of Savannah, Georgia, proposed an "all-seasons" route stretching from its home base to Los Angeles. Interested towns and parties formed the Dixie Overland Highway Association (DOHA), with offices in Columbus, Georgia. The route, which passed through 75 U.S. counties, including Kaufman, was partially opened by the 1920s, with the western terminus later changed to San Diego. Along the route, travelers met significant obstacles, including what was known as the Forney Gap. Forney's portion of the road entered the city east of Mustang Creek and crossed through town, past the service stations and other businesses that opened to serve travelers. On the west side of town, as the landscape slopes downward to the floodplain of the East Fork of the Trinity River, the paved road stopped, leaving a slippery, muddy hill and a frequently flooded roadway. Despite such obstacles, DOHA's president, in a publicity stunt, made the length of the highway in record time in October 1926, traveling from San Diego to Savannah in just over 71 hours. Two months later, much of the highway became U.S. Highway 80. Its role as a primary interstate route was later superseded by Interstate 20.

Ghost Road runs arrow straight through territory that was once thicket, cypress brake, baygalls and lobolly pines. It began as the bed of a branch rail line of the Gulf, Colorado and Santa Fe that ran between the towns of Bragg and Saratoga to provide access to the timberlands of the area. At the southern end of the line was the McShane Lumber Company operation at Dearborn. Tales of a ghostly light began even as the line was in service, before automobiles ran through the area. The stories continued after the line was converted to a county road in the 1930s. Arthur Fullingim, outspoken editor of the Kountze News, published accounts of ghost light sightings, which brought widespread attention and interest. The road became a popular site for travelers, young couples and others interested in the phenomenon, known as the Ghost, Bragg, Big Thicket or Saratoga Light. Explanations over the years have included the natural -- swamp gas or reflection of phosphoric foxfire; the historical -- gold hidden by Spanish soldiers and explorers; as well as the supernatural -- the spirits of a rail worker searching for his lost head, a groom looking for his murdered bride, a lost hunter, disgruntled rail workers or Jayhawkers. In addition to its place in popular lore, the road's once dense timber stands attracted development and lumber interests. For decades, county officials disagreed with others, including noted Big Thicket conservationist R.E. Jackson, over the road's importance. In the late 1990s, it finally became a protected resource. Today, it draws visitors enticed by its flora and fauna, as well as by its mythic, ghostly lights.

[During the decades of the 30s, 40s, and 50s, when travel by car (automobile) was the family choice. Business trips were usually by train. The US highways, and the state highways drew considerable traffic. Gas was cheap (less than a quarter a gallon) and time was not counted by the minute, but by the day. The state highway departments of many states provided roadside parks. Some were just turnoffs with a picnic table and a place to rest, and run the dog. Some were more creative. Many of Missouri's state highway roadside parks were very creative and provided, altitude as well as direction of travel (see photo above) and usually a historical marker with plenty to read. This one has 18 picnic tables made of local natural stone, and 20 cooking pits (bar-b-q). Travel the old roads and see America as it was. The towns are decaying because no one goes there any more, but the view and the history is still there.]

Seventy years after his discharge from the Alton military prison where he spent eight months as a prisoner of the Union forces just before the close of the Civil War, S.A. Harrison, 93-year-old Confederate Veteran from Dent County, Missouri, Sunday revisited for the first time the scene of his wartime captivity.

"I didn't find much of the old place left", the elderly veteran told a Telegraph reporter today. "Everything is changed - but I rather expected it would be."

Harrison's visit to the old prison site came in course of a visit at the home of his granddaughter, Mrs. C.A. Coppedge in East Alton, where he has two great-grandchildren. With his daughter, Mrs. R.S. Null, and his grandson, S.C. Null and family of Rolla, Mo., he came by automobile, and made a pleasant call this afternoon at the office of the Telegraph just before the party started back to Rolla.

Despite his age, Mr. Harrison enjoys vigorous health and a keen recollection of his days in the prison here. He reads without glasses and his hearing is excellent. When a reporter expressed amazement at his evident vigor at age 93, the old veteran replied with just a degree of honest pride: "Why I did a bit of plaughing last summer, sowed some wheat, and some corn." And just a little later on in the conversation he let it be known that he can still draw a steady bead on a squirrel and enjoyed a bit of hunting last fall

"There were said to be 6000 prisoners here when I was sent to Alton October of 1864," Harrison related in a short recital of his prison experience. "I had been cut off near Rolla and had surrendered. Of course the prison was terribly crowded. Bunks had been built up in tiers seven, maybe nine tiers high in the prison buildings. Three or more men slept in each tier, and I can remember that the first night I climbed up to the seventh tier to sleep."

"Smallpox was still prevalent, and that first night I slept between two men, one of whom broke out with smallpox the next day but somehow I did not catch it. At one time I worked in the prison hospital as a nurse. Sisters of Charity were helping to care for the sick, but the death rate under the crowded conditions was high. One night I remember helping to carry out 20 who had succumbed."

"Because of the epidemic conditions, the moving of many coffins gave a chance at times for escapes. There was one occasion I know of when I helped carry out some prisoners who had concealed themselves in coffins, but they failed of success. They beat off the lids and jumped from the cart on which the coffins were being transported to the graveyard, but the guards caught them and brought them back."

Harrison also recalled that the assassination of President Lincoln occurred during his prison stay. "I don't remember just how the news got ...the prison," he said, "but I do remember that cannon...boomed from the bluff top to the west most of t...day."

As to the treatment of the prisoners, Harrison declared that it was probably as good as could be expected. "The guards were kind, and treated me well," he said, "but the main trouble was the food, we just didn't get enough. The crowding too, was a hardship. I got a bit of exercise now and then by being sent out to work digging away material from under the bluffs. But there wasn't much freedom in this for the prisoners let outside the walls wore a ball and chain lest they make a break for freedom."

"Of Alton itself in prison days, I remember little. I got no chance to see the town, other than the levee. When I was released on June 5, 1865, I was given transportation to Rolla, then the terminus of the Frisco road. From that point I had to walk 45 miles to get back home and you can guess I was pretty weak when I tell you the walk took four days.

"I got home to find all the family possessions swept away and that I was penniless."

Born April 10, 1841, in Texas County, Missouri, Harrison, on August 6, 1862, when 21, enlisted in the Eighth Missouri Volunteers. On his return home he married the girl to whom he had been engaged when he enlisted. He resumed farming with fair success and gradually recovered from the losses the war had cost him.

On leaving the Telegraph Office, he expressed pleasure at his long deferred visit to the prison site, and hopes he may come again at an early date.

[Photo caption: "Samuel Harrison returned to Alton in 1935 and visited the Alton prison site. He selected a stone from the prison to use as his grave marker."]

Attempts to bring rail service to Lamar County began in the mid-1800s, but a line did not reach the city of Paris until one was built to the south side of town in 1875. Residents raised money to entice the St. Louis & San Francisco (Frisco) to extend its line to Paris from the north, and the Gulf, Colorado & Santa Fe to extend from Galveston from the southeast. The lines met here in 1887. By 1912, five lines served Paris: The Texas & Pacific, the Santa Fe, the Frisco, the Texas Midland, and the Paris & Mount Pleasant. In addition to small depots serving individual railroads, the city had a wooden Union Station by the early 1900s at this site. In 1910, construction on the present Union Station began, and it opened for business in 1912 serving Frisco, Santa Fe and Texas Midland passenger trains. Segregated waiting rooms served patrons, and the Railway Express Agency occupied the south wing. The architect is unknown, but the Prairie and Italianate style design is similar to others on the Frisco rail line. The building's dark-colored brick is complemented by lighter stone sills and lintels. The tiled, hipped roof features dormers and deep, overhanging eaves with brackets. The 77-foot tower resembles an Italian campanile, or watch tower. Rail passenger numbers in Paris peaked during World War II due to nearby Camp Maxey, but as automobile usage increased, passenger rail travel declined. The Santa Fe ended service in 1954 and the final Frisco passenger train left Union Station in 1956, but the depot continued to serve freight operations until the late 20th century. In 1997, the Kiamichi Railroad acquired Frisco and Santa Fe interests and donated the depot for restoration to the city of Paris.

Formerly at this site stood the Vilano Beach Casino, constructed in 1926-27. Casinos of the early 1900s were a source of social entertainment. Gambling was not provided. Big name bands from New York, vaudeville acts, theme parties and dances were hosted here. This unique oceanfront casino had monumental architecture on property 300 feet wide and 250 feet deep, a salt water swimming pool 150 feet long by 50 feet wide, and fine dining. A palm log bridge over the North River provided access to the island by car. The casino was the cornerstone of a major development platted as Vilano Beach by the St. Augustine & Atlantic Corporation headed by New York Philanthropist August Heckscher. Automobile and rail travel brought potential buyers during the 1920s Florida Land Boom, however, the plan failed during the Great Depression, and storms of 1938-1939 washed the casino into the sea. Today Mr. Heckscher's dream is being revitalized. A public recreation area was built in 2004 on the casino site, and the 1920s era layout is the basis for a sustainable town center master plan by the Vilano Beach Main Street Waterfronts Group, a partnership between North Shores Improvement Association (est. 1939) and St. Johns County.