Will Mayfield College

Looks like the old Will Mayfield College Arts & Science building is about to get a facelift. I have mixed feelings. Something gained, something lost. Viewing from Graham Street, you can see a caricature carved into the building -- a dunce holding a slate chalkboard. On the chalkboard is 2 + 2 = 22. Boy, I sure hope that doesn't get lost. I was born and raised within 200 yards of that place and it holds a lot of memories. We lived in the old house at 101 William St., and then at 105 Graham St. during my high school years. After that, and some time in St. Louis, I came back to Marble Hill with my wife, Margie, and our sons, Don "Donnie" Jr. and Eric. With dad's help (age 75), we built the house at 204 Graham St., where we lived until I found work in Cape. We still own the vacant lot at 203 Graham St., so I still have roots in the neighborhood.

Will Mayfield, a Baptist college, opened c. 1880 and closed c. 1934. My memories are much later. Across William Street from our house was the old concrete foundation for the college gymnasium that had long since been moved to Patton High School. The adjoining lot, once a tennis court, was my playground. Back then, mom and dad owned the property bounded by William, Graham and Poplar streets and the college campus grounds. Along about 1945, dad built the house at 105 Graham St., almost all by himself, and in the process developed a driveway joining the end of William to Graham. At the Graham intersection, there is a sign, "Tippett Street," that I challenge. Who put it there? And by what authority? It should be "Runnels Drive" in recognition of the person who made the driveway.

Mixed with memories of the old college are stories I can't confirm. It's been said that in its day, Will Mayfield College was more prestigious than State Teachers College in Cape, now SEMO. Following the onset of the Great Depression in 1929, the buildings were used to distribute commodities during economic recovery. A local extended family, three of four cousins, who thought they were not being treated fairly, broke into the place to steal some food. During the trial, one member of the "gang" was sentenced to do time in Jefferson City's "big house." Years later, telling me that story, he said he confessed to the whole caper because he was the only one who didn't have a wife and kids to feed. I've known at least one ex-convict whom I consider to be a stand-up guy.

The Arts & Science building is the newest building of the complex. Its construction, combined with economic conditions that soon followed, was behind the college closing. The building to its west, opposite Graham Street, was the main academic hall. West of that were the remains of what had been the women's dormitory. It burned to the ground long before my time. All that remained were concrete steps and a slab that had been the basement floor. Behind the remaining buildings was what appeared to be a physical exercise gym. After decades of non-use, all that remained were vacant buildings with broken windows, open doorways and decaying interiors. A great place for Tom and "Houch," Allen Houston, to catch wild pigeons. I was just a tag-along, but roamed the halls unencumbered. Between the main buildings was a concrete slab where I learned how to roller skate.

In the early 1940s, Mrs. Lottie Bollinger, who was affiliated with the El Nathan religious organization, purchased the college complex, except for the property where the old gymnasium had been. After that, as should be, my access was limited. With partial renovation of the buildings, presumably with El Nathan support and approval, the complex became an "El Nathan Home." Mrs. Bollinger was accompanied by her daughters, Minna Gene and Nedra (sp.), along with her son-in-law, Rupert Johnson. He was "man of the house," but make no mistake. Mrs. Bollinger was in charge. As I recall, he was a schoolteacher, the hardest working man I ever saw. He'd take on anything and do it all by himself. One day I heard someone calling for help, and I found him in the then-vacant lot across from the Arts & Science building. He was trying to move a concrete mixer on a two-wheel trailer. Half crouched, he had the trailer tongue in his hands, but the load was too heavy; however, if he turned it loose, the trailer would run over him. Surely I helped, but I was so shocked that I don't remember what I did. He was always building stuff. Farther down the same hill, he'd built a small shed with a concrete floor. For some reason, I was in it by myself and found a World War II-type hand grenade. How it got there and why, I didn't know, but I wasn't stupid enough to find out if it was real.

A kid my age, James Keiffer (sp.), came on the scene. As best I can recall, he was from the Zalma area, and something about him suggested that he was from a deprived background. It made sense because Mrs. Bollinger was very religious and probably took him in, just gave him a home. He and I became good friends and played a lot, that is, when he didn't have chores.

On a Sunday afternoon, Chandler James and I were on our way to Lewis Theatre. Walking the street near the Arts & Science building, a patch of gravel jumped up near our feet. Then we heard the report of a .22 rifle. Down the hill toward Highway 34, behind the two-story house, was a man with a gun pointed in our direction. Who he was, or what he had in mind, we didn't know, but we ran away as fast as we could. Being a couple of dumb kids, we didn't think to tell anyone. You might think Chandler James' name was backward. I did, but not so. His dad was related to Mrs. Lottie (James) Bollinger, and his mother was Mary Kate (Chandler) James. Bollinger County 1851-1976, Mary L. Hahn, et.al. (p. 172). Both of Mary Kate's parents died within four days, leaving six small children to be raised by their paternal grandfather, W.K. Chandler.

Memories related to Will Mayfield College will be with me always. Last time I visited the third floor of the Arts & Science building, maybe two decades ago, nothing had changed in over 70 years. Plans reported in The Banner Press seem to be pretty much on target. My hope is for greatest success. Just make sure the 2 + 2 = 22 dunce retains its prominence.

DON "SNEII" RUNNELS is a Bollinger County native now living in Cape Girardeau. His column runs once a month, usually on the second Wednesday. He is the brother of the late Tom Runnels.