Jean Bell Mosley's new autobiography, "For Most of the Century," is only available in serialized form in the Southeast Missourian. Return each week for her continuing story.

When we moved into our new home in 1936, the property across the street, a little to the southeast, was a wooded area. I walked there often. When President Roosevelt instituted the Works Progress Administration (WPA) to provide jobs to try to work our way out of the Depression, it was decided by the City of Cape Girardeau to clear part of the area and build a large building to accommodate large meetings, a basketball court, etc.

The building was made of concrete and became known simply as the Arena Building. Later the name was changed to the A.C. Brase Arena Building to honor Mr. Brase who had a great deal to do with construction and re-decoration from time to time. But it is still usually just called the Arena Building, and the site, Arena Park.

Much of the underbrush was cut, leaving large oak trees. At the south end of the Park ran, and still runs, Cape LaCroix Creek. Also, the south end of the Park was lower and for years it was used as a city dump. Seemed as if always there was a smoldering fire going on at the dump and smoke wafted toward our house for years. Eventually the area was filled, covered over with soil and sowed with grass. It is now level and a suitable place for several Little League baseball diamonds. There was a half mile race track to the east of the building in front of concrete bleachers.

For many years the Southeast Missouri District Fair has been held at Arena Park. Horse races, small car races and old car demolitions were held on the race track, but the track is gone now. In the interior of the oval more Little League baseball diamonds have been constructed.

In 1947 the Rodney Vista area was incorporated into Cape Girardeau. Edward -- getting very weary of getting stuck up in the mud on the still gravel and dirt roads, especially as he backed out of our driveway -- spearheaded a petition to have our street black-topped. This disturbed some of the roots of the large maple trees that had bordered our street.

Later, came the water line, doing more damage, then the gas line and the sewer, all nibbling at the maple roots until the trees finally gave up. We planted Chinese elms farther back in the yard. One very icy winter practically stripped those trees of their limbs. Then, too, every summer the leaves of these trees were skeletonized by some insect or disease. Soon they were gone too. These were replaced by old pin oaks and a sweet gum.

At the rear of our lot, along a fence row, volunteer American elms were allowed to grow, some of them growing to great heights. Dutch elm disease took many of them, although some, in late 1990s still tower toward the sky.

A volunteer wild cherry tree in the back yard, used for third base when Stephen and his pals got old enough to play baseball, was allowed to grow. After the demise of the Westlane elm, an American elm growing nearby the wild cherry tree became the biggest tree in the neighborhood.

One summer day as I was turning the ignition on my car, preparing to go to town, lightning struck the tree. I momentarily thought the car had been rigged for bombing. It was a shock. The tree had to be removed.

Some time in the early 1950s, I discovered some maple seedlings growing in a north corner of the house. I said, "Steve, pull these up and plant them somewhere down there." I waved toward the southwest part of our back yard. He did so, and the trees thrived. They are sugar maples, lighting up that corner of the yard in autumn with their beautiful red-gold foliage. Two pink dogwoods were also planted in this area. They sit like Gargantuan pink bouquets in the spring.

Our house had been built L-shaped, the L extending northward from the front of the house. I felt that it would be more attractive if a porch, the size of the L, would be built on the south front of the house. It was. An attractive wooden banister, painted white, was placed around the flat roof top. This addition gave the house a more balanced look.

Later, this banister was changed to a fancy iron grille work, and such grille work was put around the front porch and down the sides of the steps.

When Steve became of college age, he felt the urge to have a room for himself with an outside entrance so his pals could come and go. The porch was then made into a room. Redwood siding, painted white at first, then brick color to match the rest of the house, enclosed the porch.

A Bridal Wreath hedge adorned the base of the front of the house, along with assorted evergreens which succumbed to bag worms over the years. Finally a euynomous hedge was planted all along the front to cover the concrete base. This proved to be more attractive, tying the house more effectively into the yard.

A white painted frame garage, never wide enough to keep our opened car doors from banging against the walls, was built. Also, Steve, growing up, practiced his baseball pitching against the rear, aiming at certain drawn-on spots. This was not good for the boards. Eventually the garage was torn down and a concrete block, wider garage was built. It was just the concrete gray color for a long time until I decided to have it, too, painted the same brick color as the enclosed porch.

Not long after the building of the garage, we had the gravel driveway black-topped and concrete walks replaced granite stepping stones -- such stones having been gathered from quarries in Graniteville, where I had once taught school.

The back yard as late as the 1950s was still part garden, part baseball diamond. The garden part gradually shrunk until now it is only big enough for four tomato plants and a couple of pepper plants.

Buildings went up all around us. Irvin Huff built many of them and the specifications for such buildings were not very grand, the plotting and specifications having been done when money was scarce. For a long time, now, there has not been a vacant lot anywhere on either side of the East and West Rodney horseshoe-shaped drive. But the town skipped over the Rodney vista area and moved westward, with prettier and more moderns houses after the Depression.

When Interstate Highway No. 55 was constructed to the west, businesses also moved in that direction. The Drury Brothers, descendants of the Drury who plastered our house, built many hotels, and the great retail center, West Park Mall. St. Francis Hospital also moved to that area and built a large new medical center. First National Bank, where I worked for years on Main Street downtown, moved to Mt. Auburn Road, near all the hotel complexes.

The bank's name was changed to Centerre and, later, to Boatmen's and now is known as NationsBank. Many other banks were established in Cape Girardeau as the town grew.

Before I realized what was going on, I sat on the back porch many days, wondering what all the hammering was about.

The Town Plaza first took away much of the downtown business, then the West Park Mall and other businesses took away more, including much of the Town Plaza business. Now, in this last decade of the century, downtown merchants think a riverboat gambling casino at the foot of Broadway, will bring business back to their area.

Time will tell.

~Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.