You can find me in St. Louis.
Fall 2008
It only took me a couple Newfoundland weeks to start missing America and its great cities. This desire was so strong; that I would spend a fair portion of each day, online, looking at photos of places where I would rather find myself.
On one of these given days, I was looking at St. Louis pictures and I began to wonder about a Christmastime trip. Checking the hockey schedule, the Blues just so happened to be playing my Boston Bruins on December 19th - an incredible coincidence!
The game was scheduled to occur 3 days after I got off the plane, but we were having some lovely December weather that caused my plane to be delayed from Pearson (Toronto) to home. Not wanting to sit around in the airport doing nothing, I decided to board the first bus I found outside. I rode the bus for a while until it came to the end of its route at the Kipling subway station. Instead of going back on the bus, I decided to get onto the subway and head downtown, unsure of my destination, but just happy to be back in Ontario and back in a sizable city.
In the above Toronto subway map, you'll see the Bloor-Danforth line in green. Entering at the west end (Kipling), I traveled on the line for 20 minutes until I decided "High Park" sounded like an interesting area to get out and explore.
This particular day was windy, ugly and blistery cold. There was very little snow cover in Newfoundland, so this was quite the shock.
As I walked around, the snow continued to accumulate on the ground and the conditions grew worse and worse. I was sporting a fine snowbeard from all of the flakes which became entangled within my natural beard. Walking against the wind, I squinted my eyes to try and keep the wet snow and harsh winds out of them. I was starving, so I tried to find a pub or breakfast joint pronto. The area I found myself was really residential around the subway station, but after a few blocks I found a pub. When I walked inside, I asked if they were open in between gasps for air and wipes of snow off my face - "nope, we open in 15 minutes."
I couldn't believe it, but the women looked in no mood to have me hanging around and it was back to the blistery conditions.
Walking a few more blocks, I didn't find anywhere to eat, but I did find the above home which belonged to a collection of 10-12 beauties, all boarded up, vandalized and tasty.
I noted this, but I was still starving and now I was growing truly cold, so I would continue on. Thankfully, I found a small, rich in character, neighborhood breakfast joint. A bevy of beautiful waitresses retrieved coffee and brought me a Texas skillet. I was now warming up, surrounded by cute waitresses and filling my belly with cheese, eggs and salsa.
Life was taking a turn for the excellent.
Waiting for Monaghan in the lobby of his office building.
Across the street was a Petro Canada, so after purchasing a phone card I called Roachie to let him know what was going on. He asked where I was and when I told him the cross streets, he freaked out and told me I was a block from Monaghan's house!
Having not seen Monaghan for a long minute, Roachie told me to hold on a second while he MSN'ed him and got his number so I could call him and see what was going on. Monaghan didn't believe it at first, but eventually he gave up the number and offered up an afternoon of drinking beers with his boss at the Irish Embassy. I had to weigh these houses versus free beer, but since they were only houses, I entered the subway system and headed downtown.
We first had lunch with some of his coworkers who thought I was a big shot for flying from Toronto to Windsor (they didn't realize I was coming from Newfoundland). After that, we had to go back to Monaghan's office so he could check if he could get the rest of the afternoon off because of this crazy storm. He could and we went down to the Irish Embassy for some beers.
Throughout the beers I was continually calling Air Canada to see if my flight would be cancelled - which it apparently wasn't. I waited quite a long time and then left for the airport. I just missed a bus transfer and then had to wait forever for the next one. From there, I got off at the wrong terminal and the wheels just fell off - I missed my flight.
I called Roachie and he wasn't impressed as they were about to leave for St. Louis. I felt horrible, but what could I do. Lesson learned.
I called Monaghan back and he had his usual enjoyment of my stupidity. He invited me back to his apartment if I wanted; he had just moved there, but if I wanted to sleep on the floor, I could.
I ended up calling Clarkson and he would pick me up on his way from Barrie the next day. Monaghan and I got faded and then I enjoyed this bean burrito he had in his freezer before everyone called it a night.
Monaghan startled me at about 9 a.m. as Clarkson was on the phone and ready to leave. I got ready quickly and headed to the subway station to head over to the one which is right off the highway from Barrie.
After about 40 minutes I got to the subway stop I wanted and Clarkson showed up about 5 minutes later, happy with himself for almost beating me to the subway station from Barrie. We caught up and got on the road.
Once in St. Clair Beach0, Clarkson dropped me off at Roaches. We packed up the car, picked Clarkson back up and we were on our way. The border gave me a hard time about the Newfoundland i.d. because apparently "if I get stopped in St. Louis, they wont accept this! They'll send you back to Canada!" ...but eventually it was apparent that the guy just wanted to hear the sound of his own voice and to scold some people before letting us through.
We stopped at the 'you have a sexy body'1 liquor store on Vernor because I wanted some Dos Equis and I knew they had them.
Natty Ice, Jooze and Dos Equis? We were ready for the road!
For how much I used to hate the drive across Michigan, now it holds sentimental value in good music and good beers.
Although I imagine my love would dwindle if it was just me driving across the flat boring land on any given Sunday morning.
Customary I-94 practices.
Benton Harbor? Kalamazoo? Somewhere on the west side of Michigan...
:)
We eventually did make it to Whitfield's fine crib. He lives just outside of Chicago and I'm pretty sure that all 3 of us were impressed with his digs.
After a bit of catching up, we figured we should get right back on the road towards Missouri.
For a 5 hour drive, I sure don't remember much of it. Too much Dos Equis and Jooze to the dome I suppose.
Anyway, we eventually reached the Lou. I was super excited as Whitfield & Clarkson both had never been to Missouri1.5.
Roachie had been there before as part of some hockey trip where they got to go in the St. Louis Blues dressing room. Each of the kids had a team poster and Roachie was trying to get each player to sign the poster by the picture of themselves; well anyway, he goes up to Brett Hull, who just snatches the poster and signs his name huge and over the face of enforcer Tony Twist - forever ruining Roachie's opinion of Brett Hull.
He then went up to Tony Twist and Tony just looked like "what the hell" at the poster, then commented "Brett Hull, what a dick!"
Sorry I got a little sidetracked with a good Tony Twist - Brett Hull, mid-90s story.
Anyway, we checked into our hotel, threw our stuff onto the couches and beds and left immediately. It was already 11 and we were determined to get out to the bars. Everything looked pretty dead, so it wasn't hard to convince the boys to hit up this place which sold Steel Reserve 211 (pretty much my wet dream - having 211 sold at a drinking establishment). It was a good 10 block walk in the freezing cold and vacant streets. It was screwy how we only saw maybe 5 people for 10 city blocks and 2 or 3 of them were homeless.
I'm sure the single digit temps2 didn't help either.
The bar was unbelievable in my eyes. I have no clue if there were good looking girls around, or good music playing or a low ratio of douchebag guys; but I do know they had a $2.50 menu of delicious cans of beer and a $1.75 menu of even more delicious canned beers.
I was already trying to watch myself in terms of my consumption, but the fact that there were about 5 beers which I've never seen, plus 3 or 4 I love (Old Style, 211, Original Coors & Strohs), plus the fact that Roachie & Clarkson didn't care for their 211 and passed it onto me?
Yeah I left a bit wobbly and glazed.
Roachie said something about the bartender being a dick but I was far too waxed to even notice. If this was the case, I would find it hard to recommend the place, but then again St. Louis seems like a city with some character and 4 loud drunks taking incessant flash pictures in a chill bar would probably warrant an appropriate scolding.
I'll be going back.
The walk home was fun as well.
Whitfield and I were both really cold and moving far faster than Roachie or Clarkson. We even stopped to get some street meat and we still were a block or two ahead of them. Anyway, I spied a parked bus ahead and some girls were walking up the intersecting street about to cross our path; they encourage us to get on the bus, while Whitfield could care less, I don't think he had any say in the matter as I just smiled and agreed; following them onto this bus.
Once we were on the bus, we were walking the center portion and about to take a seat when this douchebag guy confronts us, "who are you guys?!? hey? hey? who told you could come on here? huh? who? who?"
I didn't care for this guy's tone, so I let Whitfield walk ahead and told him (Whitfield) to pay attention. As we stepped off the bus, I turned around to see this tool glaring at us, obviously feeling good about himself for being such a dickhead/tough guy...so I decided to take him down a notch and rifled my 5% eaten foot long sausage, complete with sauerkraut and mustard, straight down the middle, strike, square into his stomach; making a horrible stain and mess of his fancy pants white button up.
Apparently when Roachie & Clarkson finally got to the bus (where the hell were they this whole time?), they looked to board the bus and were about to ask what was going on, when they saw this dude, super angry, yelling "what the fuck! what the fuck!" and looking down at his shirt.
When Roachie & Clarkson got back to the hotel, they told me this in unison and I think it made my 2008.
Capital f...Fuck that guy! What a herb.
I attempted to sleep on the couch as I know I naturally try to cuddle whoever's in bed with me (a habit of having a girlfriend for 2 years and sleeping at her house often); but Roachie wouldn't have it and joked that it would be ok if we cuddled. I wrapped myself in blankets as to trap myself in one place, but I was so lifted that once I put my head on the pillow I was OUT.
I wanted to wake up at 7a.m. and go explore the city, but I don't even remember turning off my alarm. I only woke at 10a.m., along with everybody else, because we forgot the window open the night before and now it was a frigid 10 degrees3 in our room. We all argued about who would get out from underneath the covers for a good 5 minutes before someone finally decided to do so. A heat wave didn't exactly envelope the room right after, so we got up quite quickly after that anyway.
Walking outside, it was a complete epiphany for me as I didn't remember checking in very well when we arrived in St. Louis, and I definitely didn't remember much from after the bar. Overall though, the hotel is rated 4 stars and we got it for very cheap. Since it's located in a rust belt, midwest city; I got to stay in probably the nicest hotel of my life for a very reasonable price. I was highly impressed4.
The Rolls Royce Silver Cloud in front of the hotel may have been nice, but this is 69 Impala Wagon is nicer.
I'd kill to have this beauty.
We were all starving from the night before (me especially after throwing my hot dog at that clown), so we went on a determined search to find something close to quell our appetites and because we had to get to the football game.
We spotted a local type place which I wanted, but it was closed. Therefore, I had Jimmy John's for the first time in my life. My boy Canukr lives on this stuff and he's carried on about it before, and now I can see why as it was damn good. About the same as Quizno's, mmmm.
When I first asked Roachie about the holiday trip, he suggested that we check to see if the Rams (football) we're playing in St. Louis on that given Sunday as well. I was up for seeing the second NFL game of my life, so I was completely for it.
The good news? They were playing in St. Louis on this Sunday.
The bad news? The Rams are already a terrible team, but they were also playing the 49ers, who are a horrid team as well - the combined records of these two teams were 4 wins and 23 losses I believe. It was a stinker of a game with plenty of 3 and outs and zero offense or excitement.
I like to get up and walk around to see the arena even when the game is captivating; so I think I spent a good 40 minutes walking around looking at the St. Louis cityscape since the game was so mind numbing.
One thing I noticed was just how much that damn Arch dwarfs everything. I bet if you knew the fire escapes, rooftops and parking garages of St. Louis, you could get some really interesting pictures.
Roach owed me beers and arena food from a previous fantasy baseball bet, so we decided to spice up this game by doubling down on that bet. I was winning the bet for 85% of the game with my St. Louis Rams until the 49ers decided to just wake up and win the game...to the amusement of the rest of the group and to my dismay.
I guess that's what I get for betting on the Rams.
We already a short period of time free between the football and the hockey game; then this amount of time grew when the football game reached completion quickly.
Due to my love for St. Louis and my desire to get something done, I asked the boys if they'd mind going for a drive during this free time. I don't think any of them cared about anything besides getting out of the cold outdoors, so they obliged.
To even drive around between the games and enjoy the beautiful St. Louis architecture was amazing. I was in heaven.
I'd also like to point out that a lot of these are empty or were empty in the past; but since St. Louis hasn't had a love affair with demolition, they still have an amazing city core of beautiful buildings. If Detroit continues on its path of demolition, they are just going to create a more and more pockmarked surface with the odd skyscraper instead of a city core comprised of them.
I had maps drawn up, I had previously researched it and it was the reason I wanted to get up early before the football game.
The Spivey Building.
It was with that, that I was really upset I drank too much and couldn't get up. This place was top 5 on the list of places I wanted to see. Therefore I was beside myself when Roach said it wouldn't be a problem for us to not only drive there, but to actually get out and check it out!
The Spivey Building actually sits in East St. Louis, Illinois - across the Mississippi from St. Louis, Missouri.
East St. Louis is a horrible shell of what it once was. In the 1930s, it was a place of great prosperity where many people would relocate for employment. It wasn't a suburb of St. Louis, but a great city in its own right; the 86th largest city in America; the Pittsburgh of the west.
Allan Spivey owned the local East St. Louis newspaper, the East St. Louis Evening and Sunday Journal, later named the Metro East Journal. Mr. Spivey believed in East St. Louis and built his 12 story skyscraper in 1929, about a time where several other buildings were constructed to give the booming community a skyline. The bottom floors were associated with his newspaper operations, while the upper floors were occupied with doctors, lawyers and dentists.
East St. Louis suffered like so many other midwest, rust belt cities in the 1960s and 1970s. The deindustrialization of the rust belt reduced jobs and freeways cut through the city and allowed people to move to greener pastures away from the city - eroding the city's tax base.
Nearly 20 years ago, the Spivey's last tenant, the State Community College, left the building and it has been vacant ever since.
(Much of my knowledge on this subject comes from a great article found here.)
This was the first time I had brought Whitfield anywhere; while Roachie and Clarkson had been to Gary with me. Whitfield questioned how we would get inside, then had a laugh at how easy it was. I would never try anything risky with Clarkson in tow, so whenever we hit things like this, it's almost touristy.
I know I'm lame, but I still want to see these places.
We went up a couple floors and found the place raped to its bare bones. Some of us cracked Joozes and made our way around inspecting things. I hurriedly snapped pictures and moved around in an attempt to allow as much of this saturate into my brain cells.
We came to the eighth or ninth floor and found the staircase to be hobo barricaded. Clarkson hates going into buildings, but once he gets into things, he just get stuff done; plain and simple. So we both made it past the hobo barricade; then heard Roach & Whitfield say they would stay below - Clarkson wasn't amused.
I wasn't amused either, but I understood once Roach explained that he didn't want to rip his jersey climbing over these doors and handrails. I thought Clarkson would climb right back down, but I was proud of the little guy as he wanted to see the roof since he had made it past the barricade. Maybe he likes this more then he lets on? Maybe it's growing on him?
I still have my doubts though. Nonetheless, I don't like making people do things they don't enjoy, so to see Clarkson actually wanting to go up to the roof was more exciting than you could ever imagine.
Up on the roof, there was considerable water under a thin layer of ice. The ice cracked as you walked on it, so we couldn't meander very far from the roof doorway - it was colder on that roof than an ex girlfriend and I wasn't in the market for a soaker.
I navigated my way over to the east side of the roof so I could look over the city of 31 000 people.
It was also interesting to look at I-55 heading northeast, away from St. Louis, towards manufacturing and further on into Illinois.
Looking towards St. Louis.
Clarkson and I exited the roof, down the stairs, over the hobo barricade and met up with Whitfield and Roach. After taking a group shot, we were done our Joozes and the building was an empty shell, so we decided to move along. I was trying to utilize every free second I had in this area I love, so if we were done here, we should get in the car and see even more before the Bruins game.
The Spivey was bought in 2001 for $75 000. That owner successfully got the Spivey listed on as a National Historic Building, but then he hired workers to throw asbestos laden insulation out of the windows into the streets below. People of the city started to complain about their exposure to asbestos and the Federal Government stepped in to charge him with several felonies. In 2005, the city granted a demolition permit because of bricks falling off the Spivey onto the street below, but Cohn (the asbestos owner) pleaded and promised that he would safety the building - the demolition permit was revoked and he was given more time.
There has been no recent news and the Spivey sits in limbo.
The alley next to the Spivey.
I had never seen an abandòned drive thru bank teller before.
We still had a few spare minutes and my excitement of being in East St. Louis led to me blabbering on and on about it and other places there. I was carrying on about one building when Roach said we should drive to it, problem being I had no clue where it was.
So we headed some arbitrary way and through downtown. I got Roach to stop the car so I could take some closer pictures of the spectacular architectural features on a few other buildings - all rotting away, more and more with each passing year.
We couldn't happen upon the other building I wanted to see and therefore, we didn't spend much more time in East St. Louis; deciding we better get a move on and get to the hockey game.
My excitement didn't dwindle as we returned to St. Louis; as I was still enamored with the amazing buildings all throughout downtown.
Quote inscription on the courthouse.
They put these on those ugly glass and stucco piece of shit courthouses they build now-a-days...right?
The St. Louis City Hall.
I was reading the previous quote and admiring the arch between downtown buildings when this building snuck up beside me. Jesus! This is probably one of my top 10 favourite buildings anywhere. What a beauty!
I only found out what the building was when I got home. I also found this description (which leads me to believe this building is moving into top 3 once I can get back to St. Louis):
"St. Louis' City Hall, a massive stone building at the corner of Tucker and Market streets, was designed in 1890, when the city was still among the half-dozen largest cities in the country. Roughly modeled after the city hall in Paris, the building was not completed until 1904, just in time for the St. Louis World's Fair. Besides the glorious marble rotunda—with its grand staircase, three floors of colonnaded balconies, arches and vast skylight above—the main room of interest is the Board of Aldermen's chambers. There are interesting murals on the Market Street and Clark Avenue entrances." Source: http://www.pbase.com/se/image/60610987
Oooooooooooooh baby!
I remember parking on the next block after the City Hall. We all finished up our beers and I decided to shotgun one on the St. Louis sidewalk for good measure.
We now all had to use the facilities and we also didn't want to be late for the game. Walking through approximately 5 blocks of St. Louis streetscape, we came to the Scottrade Center and made our way inside.
I had a beer at the game and then Roach asked if I wanted another, I initially said no, but he insisted and said that he & Clarkson would drive home. Clarkson didn't seem amused at all by this, but I think Roach was full of the holiday spirit.
Guzzling down brew after brew, we all enjoyed the Bruins handing it to the Blues. Lucic played a great game and we ended up winning 6 to 3. A good game.
We couldn't leave St. Louis without stopping at the Arch. We were already fucking ourselves by having two worn down, tired drivers drive through the night. What was the difference if the 9 hour drive back home resulted in us arriving at 6 a.m. or 8 a.m.?
Therefore we parked in an adjacent lot and I broke out the tripod. The Arch is ten fold more impressive than you ever imagine and you don't even realize it until you're standing beneath it.
The 4 of us took it all in and ran around like drunken fools.
The single digit temps5 of the night left us alone to be as loud and as ridiculous as we wanted to be. It was fantastic...I would choose no other way to see and experience the Arch (although the elevator ride to the top would be cool as well).
Adiós St. Louis. I can't wait until we meet again.
I had noticed the fast food chain Jack In The Box, on the Alton, Illinois highway exit sign as we drove to St. Louis. I couldn't believe my eyes - why was delicious, Navi's favourite fast food chain, here in Illinois6? I previously thought it was only on the west coast (because I had only had it once in Washington State.)
Needless to say, I carried on about Jack In The Box and encouraged the boys to stop there as they wouldn't regret it. I don't think any of them were that impressed, but I was in heaven with my breakfast burrito at 10 o'clock at night. Mmmmm.
This is about what I remember from the I-55 portion of the journey back to Chicagoland. There isn't much on the highway besides Springfield, Illinois; and even that flashes by like a low-flying bird.
It probably doesn't help either that I was still sucking back the brews. Whitfield was stuck in the driver's seat for some of the drive back to his house and it was apparent he was tired from the weekend because he asked to listen to some exploring stories. For about 2 hours I did my best to entertain him and keep him alert with some thrilling tales, but for one who's normally sparse with words, even I couldn't keep that up the entire time.
I fell asleep for about 50 minutes before Whitfield's house, but we thankfully made it. Going in for a second, the booze clearly hadn't worn off as I look back and see that I took a group picture where I'm all too excited and the other 3 are just worn out and tired.
We bid adieu to Whitfield and it was understandably upsetting as I definitely do not get to see that negro enough. As Baz Lurhmann said, work hard to bridge the gaps in geography as you grow older - so am I moving to Ohio or are you moving to Nova Scotia Whitfield?
Anyway, we got back on the road after deciding against sleeping at Whitfield's...and Roach put the car in the ditch!
It wasn't a matter of drunkenness or idiocy, Roach was simply driving a reasonable speed and the car started sliding uncontrollably and poof! Into the ditch!
Or so I was told. I was sleeping away in the back and only woke up after the fact, not upon slamming into the bank. As you can see in the above picture, Clarkson is whole heartedly unimpressed with me, but I had this problem solved. "Relax Clarkson, I'll just get in front and we'll be right on our way."
I then walked to the hood and pushed with all my might and didn't move the car a hair's length.
"Oh. Yeah. It's really stuck, eh?"
Clarkson wasn't impressed.
It was windy and even more cold than before. This was about 3 a.m. in Benton Harbor or Kalamazoo or somewhere along the I-94. We got back in the car and Roach called old AAA to come rescue us. The guy was obviously busy from the conditions, but he would be by shortly. We sat there as semi's confidently whizzed by at normal speed in these rotten conditions - mere inches from our car which was just off the road.
Thankfully the guy was on time and he went about his job and got us out.
I could now get back to sleep.
I awoke as we slowed down on a highway exit ramp. We were somewhere near Jackson, MI and needed food and to use the washroom. We ate some delicious donuts and guzzled down some standard coffee. If I had any semblance of where this coffee shop was, I would probably return one day.
Anyway, from there it was smooth sailing to the border and to home.
I have to give a thanks to Monaghan for the brews, the floor space and saving me from having to sit around Pearson.
I have to give a thanks to Whitfield for laughing it off while I'm trying to start fights with hot dogs and for driving home and for just being stand up and down for whatever came this weekend.
I have to give a big thanks to Clarkson & Roach for putting up with my drunkenness and lack of contributing. I was just super excited to be home and get rowdy and drunk with my boys. I should have took some responsibility off your plates for this weekend, but Roachie did say it all evens out; so I'll definitely get you next time.
I sure am banking on that one time I actually was the responsible one in Chicago, eh Clarkson?
Navi
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