All Entries Tagged With: "unincorporated North County"
The Gardens of NoCo: Kuhs Estate & Farm
Among North County's historical river bluff estates, none is more enchanting than Kuhs Farm, which will be featured May 20 on the Spanish Lake Garden Tour.
Last year, I got a surprise phone call from an old colleague. She’s a talented photographer who works with a lot of big magazines, and she called to say that not only was she in North County (a rarity for her) but she was standing in “the most beautiful place in St. Louis.” Giddy with excitement, she talked about sunken gardens and a sprawling rock grotto with a magnificent river view, and I knew instantly where she had to be: Kuhs Farm in Spanish Lake.
This little slice of paradise is indeed one of the coolest places around, a natural wonderland with a touch of whimsy. And yes, it is right here in North County. NOCO contributor Jo Batzer has the full story on this fabulous hidden gem, including details on how YOU can visit…
Elizabeth Parker knows she is one fortunate lady. She has the privilege to live on 150 acres that have been in her family since the 1920s, in a house her great-grandfather built. She shares it with a menagerie of animals, big and small, with plenty of fresh air, great views and a commute that involves only walking out her front door.
But it’s not just the fact that her farm has family ties or a peaceful country setting that makes it a privilege to live there; the land has a history all its own. Originally inhabited by Native Americans, it was later used for supply storage for the Lewis and Clark expedition, then eventually provided a home for the the Fugate and Carrico Cemetery and the Wiese Dairy farm.
Elizabeth’s great grandfather, Edward L. Kuhs, purchased the Wiese Dairy farm on the bluffs overlooking the Missouri River in 1925. As a surprise for his ailing wife, Rose, he built a rambling country home there, then over the course of seven years, constructed a sunken ‘Rockery Garden’ in a gully for her to enjoy. But Rose wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the unique grotto and surrounding gardens. She and Edward shared them openly and welcomed up to 10,000 visitors a year.
A 1939 St. Louis Globe Democrat article describes the sunken gardens as one of the “showpieces of the area.” Lighted waterfalls spilled over stone terraces into large lily pools, while hundreds of flowers and dozens of trees lined the rock terraces. Today, though the gardens are currently under restoration, many of the original plants are still there, including majestic oak specimens (Quercus spp.), cucumber magnolias (Magnolia acuminata), and peonies.
What made the gardens so unique in the 30s was not just the plants, terraces or river views, but the elaborate mercury lighting system that was set up to flood the sunken garden area, mimicking moonlight by using different colored filters. The gardens and the light system were featured in a Union Electric Magazine article in 1931. Elizabeth remembers that the effect was magical, and she’s very close to repairing the innovative system.
Under her guidance, Kuhs Farm is fast becoming a coveted wedding and event venue. With so many areas full of natural beauty, there are plenty of scenic spots to choose from. The upper loft area of the barn has a rustic yet enchanted atmosphere with massive wood beams, white curtains and tiny white lights. A mature oak in the middle of a natural amphitheater-like swale offers a simple yet majestic and elegant space. The gazebo or stone patio area overlooking the river offers a totally different feel.
One couple was so inspired by the area after their wedding at Kuhs, they ended up purchasing a neighboring property for their new home together!
These days, Elizabeth is actively trying to restore the sunken gardens along with the original greenhouse. Her two children, an army of friends and even strangers have volunteered time to help repair and restore the gardens, buildings and equipment since Elizabeth acquired the property. They have donated materials as well as personal time repairing tractors, tilling soil, feeding and caring for the animals, removing stumps…there is always something to do.
The outpouring of help is what is so inspiring to Elizabeth. She and all her volunteers are mesmerized by the magic of the land and the way of life it has shown all who visit or come to help. Elizabeth and her friends have coined the term ‘Accidental Farmers’ to help describe how the farm has inspired and changed their lives when they least expected it.
Her next big project is the new veggie garden, and Kuhs will be hosting a ‘Farm to Table’ dinner in September with food grown right on the farm. The 40 x 80 garden will not only have raised beds for food, but a plow area for demonstrations.
And let’s not forget: this is also working farm with chickens, ducks, geese, goats, horses and pigs. The historic 1800s dairy barn is the home of Crimson Sun Stables, which shelters rescued horses, including “Her Own Storm,” the great-great-granddaughter of 1973 Triple Crown winner Secretariat. Elizabeth saved the horse from the slaughterhouse and rehabilitated it.
An animal lover who also has an enormous sense of stewardship for the land and its history, she takes great pride in the Spanish Lake community. And like her great-grandparents, Edward & Rose, she will be sharing her beautiful Kuhs Farm with the public by taking part in the Spanish Lake Garden Tour, May 20th.
It will be the first time in 30 years that the Kuhs estate has opened its doors. You do not want to miss this!!
The 2012 Spanish Lake Garden Tour & Plant Sale is scheduled for Sunday, May 20th, from 11am-4pm. TICKETS: $15/person day of tour at the Twillman House, 11840 Bellefontaine Road, $10 in advance at Miller’s Auto Service, 12300 Bellefontaine Road, or mail check payable to Spanish Lake Community Association at: SLCA, P.O. Box 372082, Spanish Lake, MO 63138
The Kuhs estate is one of nine residential gardens & three community gardens you can visit on the tour. The plant sale features plants from the gardens on the tour and annuals from the locally owned (for three generations) Windy Hill Farm and Greenhouses.
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Jo Batzer has worked in the horticulture and florist industries for over 25 years and is the garden leader at Twillman House Community Garden. She lives and gardens in the Spanish Lake area with her husband, two sons and two dogs, and is also available for private garden consultations through her company, JB Design.
A NoCo mystery: the Legend of Capitol Hill
Near Hudson & Old Halls Ferry in unincorporated NoCo, you'll find #3 Capitol Hill, a grand pre-Civil War mansion with an intriguing history.
I remember the first time I saw it, catching just a glimpse as my mom drove by. Even at 12 years old, I knew that the old house on Capitol Hill had a great story to tell.
Perched on a huge corner lot overlooking Halls Ferry Road, it stuck out like a rose among daisies, the only antebellum mansion in a neighborhood full of 1950s ranches. I didn’t know who built it, or when, but as soon as I started asking around, the rumors poured in: That house is haunted. It was built by slaves. It was almost the state capitol.
I tried to research further, poring over library books and microfiche, but never really got anywhere. Then 27 years later, a man named Glenn Smith moved in across the street from me, and guess where he grew up? The old house on Capitol Hill.
Glenn and I traded stories, and I learned that his childhood home was built in 1842 by a farmer named French something-or-other. It was not haunted, as far as he remembered, but he and his brother did enjoy scaring guests in their “ghost sheets.” They also played ping-pong on the roof and indoor soccer in the massive 50-foot living room. And Glenn recalled three legends about the house:
- It was once considered for the state capitol.
- It’s sometimes called Heartbreak Hill for the grieving mother who lived there and accidentally started a huge fire.
- It might have been a stop on the Underground Railroad.
That piqued my curiosity, of course, but I still didn’t dive into the research. Then out of the blue, #3 Capitol Hill went into foreclosure, hitting the market about a month ago. It was selling for $42,000 – which is pretty amazing considering it’s a 3,800-square-foot home on nearly an acre – and I knew I couldn’t miss the opportunity to explore further. What I didn’t expect is the mysterious and, yes, sometimes heartbreaking story that would unravel.
I might as well start at the beginning…
This is French Rayburn.
In 1834, he moved to St. Louis from Nashville, Tennessee, to help manage a branch of the Cumberland Iron Works, a huge iron manufacturing company owned by his family. Just 19 at the time, he later married Catherine Stacker, whose father had also amassed a large fortune in the iron industry, and by 27, French was a “retired” gentleman farmer overseeing hundreds of acres in what’s now North County.
His largest parcel was near the Halls Ferry wedge, on the wooden plank road that ran from Baden all the way to Edward Hall’s ferry on the Missouri River. It was here that he (or more likely, his slaves) built a sprawling brick mansion in 1842, reportedly an exact replica of a house that once stood near his wife’s hometown in Lafayette, Tennessee.
French and Catherine Rayburn had four children while living on their farm: Samuel, Cora, Mary Elsie and Catherine French. Unfortunately, two of the girls died as teenagers, “just as they were budding into beautiful womanhood,” and legend has it that Mrs. Rayburn never recovered from the grief.
While pacing the hallway late one night, she allegedly dropped her oil lamp down the back staircase, setting one whole wing of the mansion ablaze. Her servants were able to pull her to safety but a significant portion of the 5,000-square-foot house was destroyed, including most of the second floor and an observation tower on the third floor.
Mrs. Rayburn died a few years later, on April 26, 1881, following what was publicly referred to as a “lingering illness,” and privately a “situation.” She was 57. According to some accounts, neighbors began to see strange lights flickering in and around the mansion soon after. One witness also claimed to hear crying sounds.
The identical headstones of Cora & Mary Elsie Rayburn at Bellefontaine Cemetery. Each is topped with a broken vase of flowers, carved in stone.
Five years after Mrs. Rayburn died, her daughter Catherine followed. She was 25 and passed away suddenly at the Lindell Hotel – a grand St. Louis landmark that burned down the next month. (Salvaged limestone from the Lindell was used to create the “ruins” at Tower Grove Park.)
Catherine’s funeral was held at the farm on Capitol Hill, where her father, French Rayburn, would die two years later in 1888. He was 73 at the time and had outlived every single member of his immediate family, except his son, Samuel, who would also die a few months later at the age of 45.
The Rayburns in happier days, at their mansion on Capitol Hill.
As of 1909, Samuel’s wife and two daughters still owned much of the Rayburn farm, though some of the acreage had been sold off. By the 1910 census, they had all moved away and were living in the city of St. Louis.
Perhaps that’s when they sold the mansion, or perhaps they held on a little longer, as the “Missouri Historical Research Record” suggests:
“The lovely home had a reputation for sadness and trouble, and the owners, reluctant to see the house deteriorate, offered free rent to anyone who would live there and take care of the place. The free-rent offers had no takers, and the house stood lonely and bare, save for its melancholy memories and spectres of sadness.”
I haven’t researched the property’s full deed history yet but I do know that in the 1950s, a family named DeLargy owned #3 Capitol Hill. They reportedly altered the interior of the house, removing old door knobs and other original details, and there may have been a second fire under their watch. Also around the same time, a Rayburn descendent by the name of Mrs. DeCamp was said to have the mansion’s original rosewood furniture at her home in Dayton, Ohio.
My neighbor Glenn Smith didn’t move to Capitol Hill until 1972 or so, when he remembers the house being in “atrocious” condition, with vandalism and spray paint everywhere. His family cleaned things up and stayed until the early 80s, frequently heating the huge dwelling with a wood stove in the living room.
Here’s what the mansion looked like back then, in this 1984 photo from the Bellefontaine Cemetery collection….
And here’s what it looks like today… Click image #1 to start the tour.
OK, so now we’ve seen the house. How about those legends? Are they actually true? Here’s what I know….
I visited Capitol Hill recently with my neighbor Glenn and his dad, Gene, who told me about a large brick cistern that used to collect water on the northwest side of the property. Glenn and his brother climbed down into it once, finding the remains of an old brick tunnel that had collapsed in on itself, and they always wondered if maybe the tunnel was a slave escape route leading to the nearby creek.
French Rayburn did own slaves. I’m almost certain of that. I haven’t found them on any recorded documents so far (other than the old photo above), but nearly all of the wealthy land owners in pre-war North County were slaveholders at some point.
James Bissell, the son of General Daniel Bissell and a close friend of French Rayburn, was known to buy and sell numerous slaves throughout Missouri. In 1854, he and Rayburn even used slaves to help build the church they founded, Bellefontaine Methodist, which still stands today.
Beyond that, both Rayburn and his wife hailed from families that made their fortunes in iron ore production – an industry that relied heavily on slave labor. Catherine Rayburn’s father, Samuel Stacker, personally owned dozens of slaves in Tennessee, and was said to be strongly pro-Confederacy during the Civil War.
French Rayburn also sided with the South, to the extent that he made the 1866 “List of Disloyal and Disenfranchised Persons in St. Louis County,” a roster of 8,500 local men who refused to sign a loyalty oath after the war.
Does that mean he definitely owned slaves? Or prove that his house was connected to the Underground Railroad? No, certainly not. But it does raise another interesting question….
Legend has it that Capitol Hill got its name after being considered as a location for the Missouri state capitol, that it even lost in a tight vote to St. Charles. But I can find zero evidence of that.
What I did discover is that Missouri actually had two capitol buildings during the Civil War – one for the Union and one for the Confederacy. And I’m wondering if maybe French Rayburn, who served in the Missouri legislature in 1858, proposed his home as a potential rebel headquarters?
I have no firm proof of this, but it does seem to be a better explanation. Rayburn was a “pronounced Democrat,” after all, with strong southern ties and a powerful, politically connected brother who could’ve pulled plenty of strings. But for now, I’m just speculating.
As for the ghost of Catherine Rayburn, who supposedly haunts Capitol Hill, I hate to say it but the evidence is also pretty thin.
Around 1968, visitors did heard the rustle of crinoline skirts on the staircase, despite the property being vacant. And sometime during the 1950s, rumors circulated that ethereal blue lights could be seen dancing all around the mansion and surrounding yard.
More recently, maybe 10-12 years ago, there was also some unusual activity during renovations, when a contractor apparently saw a woman dressed in “old-fashioned clothes” watching him through the living room window. As he moved closer for a better look, she simply vanished, and he was so spooked, he picked up his tools and never came back.
That’s the story anyway. But whether it’s true is anyone’s guess. All I know is that I’ve been to #3 Capitol Hill several times now, including once at night, and there’s no doubt that it has a lot of….atmosphere.
While standing alone in the foyer a few weeks ago, I am certain that I heard a faint female voice in the front parlor. I walked over to investigate, only to hear the same voice 30 feet away in the living room. I also felt an overwhelming sense of sadness on the back half of the second floor, days before I knew anything about the fire that had taken place there.
Was it my mind playing tricks on me? Maybe. Or perhaps 170 years of history, compounded by the heartbreak of a grieving mother, really does linger at the Rayburn mansion…
Thanks to the Smith family and the folks at Historic Florissant, Bellefontaine Cemetery and the Missouri History Museum Library for providing assistance with this article! If anyone has anything to add to the story, please leave a comment below or contact me at shannon@NOCOstl.com. By the way, #3 Capitol Hill is currently under contract.
UPDATE: Reader Laura Birmingham has confirmed that French Rayburn actually owned 10 slaves in 1850, according to the U.S. Census slave schedules, and 17 slaves & 2 slave houses in 1860. Here’s the record from 1850, with the last three columns representing age, gender and race.
Another North County first: Jones vs. Mayer
What happened on this North County street in the 1960s changed the course of civil rights legislation for the entire United States.
Forty-four years ago this week, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated at a Memphis motel. Riots erupted. National Guard troops surrounded the Capitol building in Washington. And with much of the nation on edge, Congress decided to act quickly on a new civil rights bill, passing the Fair Housing Act, which outlawed discrimination in the sale or rental of a home.
This landmark legislation continues to have a major impact today, regulating the behavior of every single homeowner and real estate agent in the country. But what many Americans forget is that there was also a second “fair housing” milestone in 1968, solidifying anti-discrimination laws in the US Constitution, and it resulted from a Supreme Court case that started right here in North County.
In 1965, a social worker named Barbara Jones fell in love with a display home in Paddock Woods, a new subdivision being built by the Alfred H. Mayer Company in unincorporated NoCo. She and her husband, Joseph, who owned a bail bonds business, found their perfect lot on a street called Hyde Park (not far from Parker Road) and proceeded to make an offer of $28,195 – about $192,000 in today’s dollars.
Unfortunately, there was a hitch…
Joseph & Barbara Jones in 1968 (Photo by Buel White/Post-Dispatch)
Because Joseph was black, the Mayer Company refused to sell to the Joneses.
Eventually the couple purchased another home, three miles away in Florissant’s Las Lomas subdivision, but not before filing a lawsuit against Mayer with the help of a local activist group. Citing the Civil Rights Act of 1866, which guarantees the right of all citizens to inherit, purchase, lease, sell, hold, and convey real and personal property, their lawyer argued that the statute applied not only to transactions with the government but also to private parties.
He initially lost that argument, first in the Eastern District Court of Missouri, then in the Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals. But in April 1968, the case was finally heard by the US Supreme Court and the Joneses were vindicated. The court ruled in their favor and they settled for $2,000 from the Mayer Company, plus legal costs. But the story doesn’t end there.
For one, Joseph and Barbara divorced soon after. She moved to Nevada with their daughter, and he remained in the home at 2030 Valencia in Las Lomas, where sadly he was stabbed to death by his brother in 1974.
Alfred H. Mayer, on the other hand, lived until 2002, and it turns out he may not have been quite the villain he was made out to be. Although he never denied discriminating against the Joneses, recent interviews with his family members reveal that Mayer actually welcomed the lawsuit.
The builder of several North County subdivisions, including Paddock Forest, Paddock Estates and Wedgewood, he was one of the few St. Louis developers who would sell homes to black people in the 60s. But it came at a cost. As soon as he sold to a black family, white families would move out, and Mayer reportedly longed for the day when other builders could no longer discriminate.
Perhaps that’s why he did a curious thing in 1965. When the local activist group that helped Joseph & Barbara Jones sent out an appeal for funds, they received a $100 check from none other than Alfred H. Mayer. Attached was a simple, hand-written note: “I hope I will lose this case.”
He did lose, of course, but change was slow to come. In fact, a full 30 years after the Jones vs. Mayer decision, in 1998, one of St. Louis’ largest real estate firms, Gundaker, was sued by the Metropolitan St. Louis Equal Housing Opportunity Council and the city of Florissant for racial discrimination.
During an audit for the case, it was determined that five out of seven North County real estate offices (including two owned by Gundaker) were repeatedly “steering” African-Americans to certain neighborhoods. Ironically, one of those neighborhoods was Paddock Woods, where Joseph & Barbara Jones were turned away in 1965.
Thanks to Mira Tanna of the St. Louis EHOC for some of the information in this article.
Get a sneak peek at the “Spanish Lake” movie
Confronting North County's history of racial tension head on, the new documentary "Spanish Lake" will be previewed on April 18.
As you may remember, NOCO fans, I wrote about the “Spanish Lake” documentary last July. That’s the film currently in production by NoCo native Phillip Andrew Morton, who is bravely tackling some very emotional and complicated issues by exploring the history of “white flight” in North County.
Morton grew up in Spanish Lake and now lives in Los Angeles, where he’s able to view St. Louis’ unique “cultural challenges” through a much broader lens. After spending the past year interviewing dozens of current and former residents, he has certainly riled up LOTS of people, but I happen to think that’s a good thing.
I hear from both sides of this saga all the time – the people who left North County and the people who stayed behind. I also hear from those who absolutely love living in NoCo, today. What I don’t get is, if you moved away, why do you feel the need to bash the place where I live, right now? And if you stayed but really wished you had left, well, that’s easy too. Go ahead and move. It’s not too late.
But to keep complaining over and over and over, blaming black people and HUD and whoever….that’s just not healthy. So let’s just pull this scab and get it over with. Yes, North County has changed. So has every other inch of the planet, because life IS change.
All we can do is learn from the mistakes of yesterday and hopefully develop better solutions for today. That’s where Morton’s film comes in.
Featuring a broad cross-section of viewpoints, from flat-out racism to an emotional stew of hopefulness, anger and malaise, the documentary uses personal stories to ultimately frame larger questions about race, class, migration patterns and government policies. It’s not quite done yet, but what you can see is a preview screening of extended clips, debuting at the Shuttered Film Fest on April 18.
Morton will be there to lead a discussion, as will producer Matt Jordan Smith. Admission is free.
“Spanish Lake” will be the first of four films presented during Open/Closed, a five-day conference focused on the problem of vacant properties in St. Louis. It will be screened Wednesday, April 18, 7:30pm, at the Tivoli Theatre, 6350 Delmar Boulevard. All are welcome.
Are you getting ready for the big day? NOCO is a proud sponsor of the 3rd annual Live Well Ferguson 5K