You can still park close

 ALLISON HUTSON AND I are stoked about playing at the Quincy Brewing Company Saturday night. We are hoping the rain stays away and the beer garden in back is rocking and rolling. 

QBC is on Sixth Street between Maine and Hampshire. It's part of the Sixth Street Promenade. It will look amazing when it's done.

But progress often carries pain. The street looks terrible right now and is all torn up because workers are replacing sewers and doing other work. You can't park right in front of the Quincy Brewing Company, or any business on Sixth between Maine and Hampshire, except those on the corners.

But it's still easy to access. There's tons of parking within a square block, including several city lots. You don't have to walk far to see us play Saturday night. In fact, you can walk into the back area where the beer garden is located.

Click here for more info on public parking in downtown Quincy. Most businesses are within 300 feet of a municipal parking lot. And the lots are always open.

We battled parking issues when we owned Second String Music at Fifth and Maine, mostly because the WCU Building employees sucked up all the spaces first thing in the morning. Still, you didn't have to park far away.

Parking is all about perception. If you go to Wal Mart, you park more than a block away, but it looks like you are close because of the massive building. The businesses on Sixth have small doors on smaller buildings, so it appears you are further away. You aren't. A few years ago I walked off the steps from a block away from our store, then went to Sam's Club on a busy Saturday. I parked much further away at Sam's. 

 Come see us play Saturday night! It's just a short stroll from the parking lot to the beer garden. And sooner than later, you might see us playing on the street of the beautiful Sixth Street Promenade.

Kelleys at rest ... later

 

VICTORIA AND CHRIS Kelley are two of the coolest cats you will ever meet. They own Table 16 Productions. Over the years we've had a few adventures, including making movies in music stores, having glory stolen from us at talent shows and hanging out in haunted places.

If you really want to see their artistry, check out the guitar drop video they made with me and the legendary Greg Ellery. I can't believe this was 10 years ago. And Greg STILL cheated. But I'm over it. Maybe.

Victoria and Chris have creativity and talent, something I lack in spades. But we do share one thing in common - our love of Woodland Cemetery. The Kelleys, ever the planners, have decided where they will rest in peace when that day comes, hopefully many years from now.

They put up a tombstone in Woodland this week. It. Is. AMAZING. And there's a poem on it. The marker is not far from Quincy founder John Wood's grave. John Wood allegedly brought his father's head from New York and buried it in the family plot, so it's fitting the Kelleys will rest near a legend, with legendary tales. And heads.

We walk the dogs every morning and always say hello to familiar faces - Bob Mays is the most prominent. Now we get to say hello to the Kelleys. And they aren't dead. Yet. How cool is that?

There's got to be a way to tie this in with some sort of Green Room or wedding vow gathering. Wow. A Kelley bash in Woodland Cemetery? Perish the thought, and I wouldn't be caught dead thinking about it. 

Still .... it's an idea!

Faded memories and a bizarre murder story

 TRAVIS HOFFMAN AND Chris Koetters have an awesome local podcast, Wild Quincy. I joined them this week to talk about a crazy story, maybe the most interesting and bizarre tale I ever told in my 24 years in journalism - the murder of Phillip Stanley Goodside.

You can listen to the podcast here. Stanley was killed in 1976, his body cut into pieces and found in two separate locations. The story involves a love triangle, a huge pot bust, a sensational murder trial and a lot of unanswered questions.

I was trying to remember how the story got told. Now it's beginning to make more sense. Let's face it - 15 years is a long time and memories get clouded. So here's some info that's come to light since we recorded the podcast.

I don't remember the conversation, but I believe Lani Block, the central figure in the story, called me in October of 2009 and asked if I knew anything about it. I investigated and called up some the characters involved and wrote a column for The Herald-Whig about it.

Again, memories fade, but I think Bob Brewer of Quincy read the column and called me to talk about the strange things he experienced in the house where it all happened. Back then we were really pushing social media stuff at the paper, so I wrote a Herald-Whig blog about Bob's experiences. I can't find the blog post online. Some of them were archived but most vanished into cyberspace after I left the paper.

In 2012 I wrote a much more detailed story about the murder. I cannot remember what prompted it - maybe another conversation with Lani? Click here to read the story.

I think Lani saw the blog about Bob Brewer's experiences in the house several years after it was published, saw the photo of Roger, and she called me. She'd never publicly talked about the story. Maybe it was time.

 This was a good story. Like all good stories, it wrote itself. I do remember putting a lot of effort into it, and that's something because by 2012, I was months away from leaving the paper. I had covered crime and courts for more than a decade and I was burned out. Few things got me fired up towards the end, but that story sure did - I remember going to the property at 24th and Locust and being amazed at everything that happened.

Here's what I want everybody to take away from this - Lani Block was an incredible person. She passed away about a year ago. She would call from her Arizona desert home and you hear the pain in her voice and the sadness, yet you could also trace the love she had for Stanley Goodside.

I have been in contact with Lani's sister, who lives in Iowa. She is letting Lani's daughters know about the podcast, and I hope they listen.

Lani and Stanley weren't criminals. Not even close. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think Lani wanted Stanley's spirit to be at peace. And that's why she called me all those years ago.

Thank you, Chris and Travis, for shedding light on a dark time in Quincy and showing respect for Lani and Stanley.

 

I don't understand Barbie

 Last week was national Medical Laboratory Professionals week. Blessing took part by going pink and by going Barbie.

I can't figure it out.

Every week is something something week in health care, and it's understandable. I especially relate to national Falling Off Of Stages week, sponsored by Orthopedic Care. It's important we recognize the hard work and extra efforts of health care professionals in all fields.

Lab week has a theme every year. Last week, the theme was Barbie. As in, the doll and apparently the movie. I didn't see the movie - I must have been taking a nap, applauded by national Insomnia Week and Sleep Study workers.

Some of the lab workers, or Lab Brats, really got into it. There were pink balloons, pink blood vials, pink cupcakes, pink photo booths. Pink pink pink UGH. Everywhere. Apparently pink is Barbie's favorite color.

At the Blessing Health Hannibal lab, Sadie was ecstatic. She's a huge Barbie fan. "This is the best week of my life!" she said. "And see Mark over there? His name isn't Mark this week. It's KEN! Tee hee hee!" And off she went to draw blood, which I assume was red and not pink like Sadie claimed.

Mark, er, Ken, just rolled his eyes. I suspect he puts up with a lot of that kind of stuff, which makes me appreciate Lab Brats even more.

The Lab Brats at 11th Street made little posters for each worker. They even made one for me and said really nice things. I don't understand - every month I finish fourth in the Courier of the Month contest. And we only have three couriers. Maybe bribing them with chocolate is paying off. Anyway, I kept the poster and will have it framed because I want proof they like me. 

 Lab Brat extraordinaire Jenni made me take a picture with her in the Barbie photo booth. Yup. The 11th Street crew had a Barbie photo booth. I didn't look like Ken. I looked like I just finished fourth again.

At our 9th Street location, staff dressed up for Barbie week on Friday and wore bathrobes. What? Maybe it had something to do with the movie or the fact they got up late and had to rush to work. I don't recall my sisters playing with Bathrobe Barbie or Just Waking Up Ken, but maybe they did.

There were all sorts of other activities and fun things going on and I'm glad Lab Brats everywhere got recognized. I've met some amazing people in those labs and they do great things every day. They deserve the love. 

And if the Barbie theme meant it was the greatest week of their lives, well ... here's a pink cupcake just for them.

Getting around crashes

 YOU WOULD THINK being a courier for a big hospital would mean having a sense of direction and not getting lost. You would think.

For a short time when I was a Whig guy we did a series of stories about really small towns in Illinois and Missouri. We visited some fascinating places and learned a lot about the history of our area. I have a vague memory of me and the late Whig photographer Mike Kipley taking a wrong turn near Spalding, Mo., and being very, very afraid. 

Getting turned around and lost is hereditary. My mother, Virginia Hart, was very good at getting lost. All the time. We'd dread trips in the massive station wagon when she drove. One time when we lived in Montreal we nearly ended up in Toronto coming home from somewhere.

Times change. You say, "Just use your map app on your phone." The only apps I really know about are the ones you get before dinner - they aren't very big and usually are very expensive. But they get you ready.

Yesterday I was running late in the afternoon and drove through a pouring rain across the bridge in Quincy. I had stuff for our Palmyra clinic and had to pick up Blessing Health Hannibal labs. It was about 3:45 and I was a few miles north of Doyle Manufacturing on U.S. 61 when I noticed a sign that said, "Incident Ahead."

The only thing that makes my stomach drop as much is a roller coaster. Sure enough, just past Doyle, where the road dips down and then goes back up, there was a line of traffic. Stopped. As in, not moving. In both lanes.

I was in a bind. I had no idea where the crash was, how long we'd be stuck, or how to take a shortcut. I really couldn't turn around on a divided highway.

Just ahead was a dirt road going off to the right. A few cars were taking the road. Maybe they knew something. So I made an executive decision, knowing full well my penchant for getting lost - I turned off the highway, onto a dirt road called Marion County Road 320.

The vehicles in front of me kept going, but there was a road going south called 361. It started as gravel and turned into pavement (sort of). The terrain was rolling and quite lovely, with a few farmhouses here and there. I could see the highway to my left with vehicles still not moving. A couple of miles later, the road came out past the UPS facility and back to U.S. 61, about 100 yards short of the crash site.

Workers were removing pieces of a huge semi that had crashed and was blocking the right lane. The road had just opened back up and traffic was starting to move, and I eased my way onto the highway in front of a lumbering truck. Boom. I was through. And I probably saved myself at least 45 minutes to an hour, because on the way back the truck was still there and workers were trying to free up the right lane.

It looked horrific and I hope everybody involved was OK. I only saw the semi and don't know if anybody else was involved.

Who knew that just shy of turning 60, my sense of direction is getting better? Or maybe I was just lucky. 

Next month I'm visiting Emily in Rochester, N.Y. I'm flying and renting a car. Dear Lord, please help me to not get lost and end up in Toronto.

Maybe I'll order one of those appetizer things for my phone.

 

Angus turns 10!

 A VERY HAPPY birthday to Angus The Young, the former Second String Music Cattledog Corgi of doom, turns 10 today. He's still spry and active because of his daily cemetery strolls. He's also still ornery and demanding of scritches. 

Angus was born the same time Lucy, Sheryl's beloved Border Collie, passed away. So there's a special connection. Angus was a big draw at Second String Music for many years, as was his nephew, Malcolm.

 Five years ago today, I remember being in the store and trying to figure out why Angus wasn't around. I walked into the adjoining EFB coffee space, and there he was, happily splayed out on the carpet in the old safe area, getting tons of birthday love from EFB employee Brianne Campbell Blaine. Bri put a silly hat on Angus and probably got him some good coffee. 

If it was up to Bri and the EFB crew, they'd have kept him in there all day. But Angus had specific greeter duties in Second String Music so he probably shuttled back and forth.

To prove it's a small world, Bri now works at Blessing's 48th Street campus. When I take stuff to her office we often laugh about the dogs and those days at Fifth and Maine. Maybe I'll stop by there today to make sure she knows her old work buddy turns 10.

And, as you can see, I care a lot more about dogs and birthdays than I do about humans and birthdays.