1927 Twilight Zone in Carterville

This week we will take another journey down memory lane with Dave Allen, but we will not be at “Look Over Lodge,” we will be in Carterville.

It was early in March 1959 when my father Fred Allen (Fred’s Electric) got the call from Mr. Ed Flounoy of Joplin to rewire and modernize his father’s house on the outskirts of Carterville. As the story went, the old man had passed away in 1927 before rural electric was available. The circumstance of his death was sad indeed, as were the reasons the house had lain vacant and boarded up all those years.

Here is that story as related to us by Mr. Flounoy and as I vividly recall from my involvement in it as assistant to Dad.

The house was a two bedroom built of natural stone with a detached garage. It was located east a quarter mile from the northeast corner of the Carterville Cemetery. When Dad and I arrived, we found the house as Mr. Flounoy had described; all boarded up tight. In fact, we had to pry the boards off the kitchen door to gain access.

It had lain dormant for 32 years. Entering it transported us back to the Twilight Zone of 1927. As the story went, in the winter of ’27, Old Man Flounoy had descended to the half basement to gather some potatoes stored in the adjacent crawl space. While rural electric was not yet available, the house was “electrified” by a Delco battery and gas generator system located in the half basement.

The Delco system consisted of 2-inch by 12-inch planks arranged like stadium stair-stepped seating. There were ten 2x12s and on each resided twelve one gallon Mason jar batteries, each of which produced one volt and when connected in the series gave a total of 120 volts. To the side of this arrangement was a very large one cylinder gasoline generator, complete with a twenty gallon gravity tank. The generator was huge, as large as my father. It had a kick starter and its exhaust pipe ran through the adjacent crawl space where the vegetables (mostly potatoes, turnips and beets) were stored to exit out the north foundation wall.

Supposedly, Old Man Flounoy had started the generator some hours earlier and was unaware that the exhaust pipe had rotted through and had filled the crawl space with fumes. When he entered the crawl space to retrieve the potatoes he was overcome by the fumes and was asphyxiated and died; his body being discovered a week later by his son Ed, next to a half full sack of potatoes.

With the probate and a self executed will leaving the house to son Ed and his sister Maxine there was a disagreement on what was to be done with it. The ’27 model A Ford was sold, but everything else was boarded up, including all contents to await a decision on the demise of one of the inheritors. It was Maxine’s death in 1959 that had prompted Ed’s decision to modernize the house and put it up for sale.

When my dad and I entered the house, everything was perfectly preserved just as the Old Man Flounoy had left it on the day of his death in 1927. The breakfast dishes were piled in the sink, still awaiting a wash from the well’s hand pump mounted to the right of the counter.

Poppa and I primed the hand pump and got it working. But we were afraid to drink the water. The kitchen also had a large oven over a wood stove, complete with a small stack of firewood beside it. The logs were well seasoned after 32 years and made a fine, though somewhat smokey fire with which to attack the early March chill.

The Delco systems “electrification” consisted of one drop cord light in each room. Plugs were attached to this drop cord in the ceiling, which was then connected via extension cords to such 1926 modern conveniences as; a GE one-slice toaster, an Edison trumpet style cylinder record player, complete with cylinders, a Zenith upright console radio, etc.

Going from room to room we found stacks of Webb City, Carthage, and Joplin newspapers all from 1927 or older, stacks of National Geographic, Scientific American and Saturday evening Post magazines. There were Chevy, Ford, Buick, and Chrysler, Hobmobile, Locomobile, Moline Dreadnaught, and Whippet car brochures each with carefully penciled in prices which included the cost of delivery from Kansas City and the deliverer’s return train ticket. There were bills and receipts, letters and post cards, stereopticons with hundreds of slides. There was even a half finished letter on the secretary desk addressed by Old Man Flounoy to a Myrtle in Lenexia, Kansas; never to be finished or mailed.

In the master bedroom, the old man’s bed was still unmade. Above the bed on the six foot headboard, hung on porcelain knobs was the old man’s pajamas and robe. While below on the floor rested his slippers – all never to be worn again.

Strangest of all was the bathroom, complete with another hand pump with a valve “T” that allowed water to be pumped into the sink or diverted into the high backed eagle-claw footed brass bathtub. When we entered the bathroom, we observed what appeared to be bloody scuff marks on the window above the tub. Walking over to the tub and peering in, we were surprised to see dozen of squirrel skeletons. Poppa surmised they must have come in via the chimney and then for some reason tried to exit by the window – only to jump repeatedly against the pane, bloodying the glass before falling back into the tub to starve to death. Indeed, with the exception of canned goods and home-packed Mason jars, all other items of food had been eaten- the wrappers scattered all about.

Poppa and I completed the wiring job and received permission from Ed Flounoy to take all the “antique” car brochures and the player piano rolls. The car brochures were added to through the years until we had a collection that occupied many file cabinets. What happened to the other contents, I do not know.

I do know, in March of 1959, it was very spooky indeed to enter the 1927 Twilight Zone of Carterville.

Impressive that Dave could remember such detailed descriptions of the items in that old house. But I am sure that incident left a lasting impression with the young boy. I am so glad that Dave took time to write so many stories of the incidents of his life to share with the readers.