Jar of Goodness 1.30.22: The Mosses at Painted Rock CA

. . . The weekly virtual “gratitude jar.”

This week, I’m expressing thanks for the beautiful mosses and lichens at Painted Rock Conservation Area.

I’ve blogged about the place before, and here’s the official website. If you haven’t been to Painted Rock yet, you should make a point of going there for your next hike.

Meet the Baxes!

Hey, folks, today was the annual Fall Supper at St. Joseph Catholic Church, in Westphalia, Missouri!

And it was a beautiful fall day—sunshine, blue skies, a nice breeze, comfortable dry air.

The food, of course, was incredibly delicious: Tender, flavorful German pot roast, homemade whole-hog sausage, kraut with beans, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans, apple sauce. Bread (you want to sop up all the good juices!), and, of course, your choice of dessert.

I always skip the cakes and brownies and go for a slice of fruit pie—whatever looks homemade and seasonal. Today my choice was blackberry/raspberry pie. Dad selected gooseberry pie!

Gosh, darn it, I forgot to take pictures of the food! I keep forgetting to do that at these church suppers. But you know how it is—as soon as you sit down, the platters and bowls of food start circuiting the table, and then your plate is full, and before you know it, you’re all done. Lickin’ your chops!

Today’s supper was special, however! Remember that newlywed couple my dad happened to photograph on October 17, 1964, as they departed through the church gates riding on the back of a manure wagon? And four days after I posted the picture, the couple had been identified: It was Elmer and Rita Bax!

Well, I met them in person today!

It was really fun to connect with them and their family, and yes, they’re all delightful, cordial, wonderful people. And yes, Rita was slicing pies when I met her! And this afternoon, Elmer was the Bingo caller!

They’re a good lookin’ couple, aren’t they!




I even got to meet Rita’s sister and brother-in-law, who are visiting from Albuquerque. This is the sister who had been casually doing Internet searches on “Westphalia, Missouri” when she stumbled upon the photo of Elmer and Rita: “Hey, isn’t that—!?”

And I got to introduce them to my father, who had taken the two photos of them in 1964, when he happened to be in Westphalia with a group of graduate students, touring the historic sites in the town. Naturally, when he saw the wedding couple riding in a manure spreader (of all things), he had to take a picture.

Rita explained that it’s a tradition in Westphalia for newlyweds to think up novel ways to ride away from the church. It’s not so much a “luck” thing as it is simply fun. Lately, she said, hay wagons have been popular. And one couple, for example, rode away on a pontoon!

The Baxes have been married forty-seven years as of tomorrow. To celebrate their anniversary, and to thank them for letting me harass them publicly on the Internet, I gave them a framed version of this photo.




(Gosh, isn’t the Internet a fascinating thing?)

The Mystery Couple--Identified!

Hey, folks, the Internet has been very, very nifty this week! You know my recent post about those two old pictures from my parents’ slide collection? (Here’s the link.)

A review of the story: My dad was walking around in Westphalia with a group of graduate students, surveying the German elements of the town, and by chance they saw a newlywed couple riding out of the church’s lot, not in a limousine, but on the back of a manure wagon, pulled by a farm tractor. (If you saw such a thing, you’d take a picture, too!)

I’d never heard of this strange custom, so I posted it on my blog, figuring someone could help explain it.

I also figured that it wouldn’t be long before someone would identify the couple for me, since we knew the place and the year (Westphalia, 1964), and, judging by the trees, that it was around the middle of October.

And sure enough! You all delivered, and the couple was identified! Elmer and Rita Bax—and they’re still in Westphalia!

So naturally, it made my day when I received the following message from Rita herself:

My sister sent me an e-mail from Albuquerque, New Mexico, showing me the [blog] “Spreading Joy in Westphalia, Missouri.” Yes it is Elmer and Rita Bax.

We were married October 17, 1964. It was 90 degrees that day. I was raised on a farm. So the manure wagon and tractor was our ride from the church to the K of C hall down the street. The hall is now Hilke Millard Funeral Home.

We live in Westphalia [and] . . . I will be cutting pies at the fall supper like you said.

I laughed when I saw the pictures. I had forgotten about the ride. I passed the information to our five boys so they could enjoy it too.

Our neighbor Paul Crede was driving the tractor. I called him so he could see it. I was 18 years old when I got married. Elmer was 22.

I will be reading your Opulent Opossum in the future. We enjoyed the pictures and article. . . .

Thank you for the memories.

Elmer and Rita

Well, there’s nothing much I can add to that, except that I’m definitely going to the Westphalia fall supper so I can meet the Baxes!

(And enjoy some of that pie Rita will be slicing!)

Spreading Joy in Westphalia, Missouri

It’s a wedding tradition I had certainly never heard about, but if you search the Internet for word combinations like “manure + spreader + wedding,” you can find some information (but not much). If you have done just that, and landed on this Web page, and if you have any information, I hope you’ll post a comment or go to the Op Op Facebook page (see the link at the right) and leave a note there.

As I mentioned in my last post, we drove around south of Jeff City last weekend, and part of that was in Westphalia. While we were there, we asked a couple of locals if they knew about a tradition involving a newlywed couple exiting the church grounds not in a limo but on the back of a manure spreader.

And this couple had indeed heard of it. They said it has to do with good luck—it’s supposed to guarantee a long marriage, or something like that. (They intimated that their observations have disproven the notion, but apparently it’s a tradition that some people might still do.)

—Have you ever heard of such a thing?




The reason I asked them is that my mom has recently been scanning her old slides, and a couple of these show a bride and groom exiting the parking lot of St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Westphalia, Missouri, perched side-by-side on the back of a manure spreader (thankfully it was covered with some kind of tarp!). In the picture, they are being pulled by an Allis-Chalmers D-15 tractor.

(These people, by the way, are not friends or acquaintances of my parents; my dad just happened to be in Westphalia when this occurred and took pictures, which is exactly what anyone in their right mind would do when presented with such a spectacle!)

The manure spreader’s wheels are devoid of tires—they are just bare rims—it must have been a rough ride! Also, there are two old brooms tied upright somewhat decoratively on the front corners of the spreader. A rope swings in a U-shape, hanging at each end from one of the brooms. Dangling from this rope are two stirrups from a horse saddle.




The front end of the spreader is marked “Donated by ?” (I think that’s a question mark), and the side (funnily enough) that the groom is on is labeled “HER.” (I bet, amid all the joy and rice-throwing, the couple inadvertently sat down on the “wrong” sides.) The wheel rim that’s visible in the photos is marked “wheel of” something—I can’t see the part not facing the camera.

I’m pretty sure those are strings of Stag beer cans dragging from the back of the manure spreader. Classy!




The date of this photo is almost certainly October 1964: Anyone know who this couple is? If the luck of the “manure-spreader wedding limo” has held out, they’re getting close to their golden anniversary!

Here’s a photo we took last weekend of St. Joseph’s church in Westphalia.




It’s a very attractive, historic town, and if you haven’t been there, you should make a point of visiting it. Westphalia, you might recall, is home of the Westphalia Inn, with its delicious family-style dinners and house-made wines, and its popular Norton Room, Corkscrew Deck, murder-mystery dinners, and live music. Westphalia also has bed and breakfasts for you to relax at, plus the Westphalia Historical Society now has a museum.

And St. Joseph’s, like the other Catholic parishes in the region, has an annual summer picnic (which was August 7 this year) and fall supper. The fall supper will be on October 16 this year. And you know—not even counting the delicious sausage—that’s a perfect time of year to go for a drive in rural Missouri.

. . . Though I wouldn’t recommend seeing it from the back of a manure spreader!




NOTE: The 1964 photos in this post are property of my Mom and Dad, who gave me permission to use them, so don't you dare copy them. Be nice; ask permission first!

MYSTERY SOLVED. Read the comments below, and click here for a newer post explaining everything. And click here for more on the story!

Westphalia Inn

We’d driven past here numerous times before, but each time, either they weren’t open, or we weren’t hungry. The planets finally lined up on Saturday, November 7, the same day we’d hiked at Painted Rock nearby. (Sorry for the delay in posting; the holidays just couldn’t be put off.)

The Westphalia Inn: I can recommend it, and I can guarantee you we’ll be back. When you walk in the door and enter the front lobby, with its antiques and stone fireplace, you’ll automatically get a comfy feeling.




This building is a historic hotel, in a historic German-heritage town that is pretty to drive to and visit. Westphalia, Missouri, is one of my shining examples of German immigrant communities transplanted to Missouri soil. It’s a picturesque small town of relatively modest brick homes surrounding a lovely stone church perched on a hill; there is a strong “Old World” feel to the place.

In addition to the “restaurant” aspect of the business, the Westphalia Inn also sells wines from Westphalia Vineyards, one of a number of small wineries generally along the Missouri, extending downstream to St. Louis. (Support local products! AgriMissouri! Hooray!)




The main floor of the Westphalia Inn constitutes the dining area—separate rooms, actually, containing four or five tables each, allowing them the flexibility of hosting small and larger groups with private dining areas. (I’ll get to the food report in a minute.)

On the second floor is the Norton Room, which is cozy and casual, wood-paneled, with a bar and plenty of tables for your group, or where you can just hang out. Up there you can order a decent selection of appetizers, enough to have a light meal: fresh-baked pizzas, hot dips (such as “Cajun crab” and “artichoke and sundried tomato”), hot chicken wings, chicken tacos, and “cheesy French onion focaccia.” All are $6.50.

Desserts are available, too: cinnamon crunch pizza with white chocolate drizzle; fruit cream puff kabobs with chocolate drizzle; campfire s’mores fondue . . . any of that sounding good? They also have nightly specials.




As I walked around the Norton Room (named after Missouri’s premier aged-red-wine grape variety), I kept thinking how fun it might be to hang out here on some of these bitter cold nights, having a light dinner of appetizers and sipping a hot beverage (since I don’t drink brandy anymore). Another plus: When we were there, the clientele all seemed pretty grown-up and decent—not seedy; not prone to college-age foolishness.

Also on the second floor are a few rooms displaying antiques for sale—with quite reasonable prices, I thought. You might want to check out what they have.




Back downstairs in the restaurant proper: All the appetizers and desserts already mentioned are available here as well, but the main attraction is the family-style or by-the-plate dinners: the traditional country ham, pan-fried chicken, or German pot roast dinners (or some combination of these). These dinners all come with the usual accompaniments of mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, coleslaw, and home-baked bread (with margarine and jelly). The meals range from about eleven to fourteen dollars a plate, or per adult, depending on if you want plated or family-style dinners. (Note that the children’s “family-style” prices start at $8.50.)




In the restaurant area, you have an extended selection of desserts to choose from—chocolate cake, cheesecake, ice cream, cobblers.

Is it sounding good yet? Let’s talk about the ambience. When we were there, early in the evening, it was quiet and laid-back. The waiter was laid-back and unhurried, but she was nevertheless very attentive. With the small rooms, the atmosphere was cozy. (Though if the place were packed, I suspect it might get kind of loud.)

While we were there, a middle-aged couple was seated near us, along with their quite-elderly mother. The mother needed some special accommodations due to her disabilities, requiring extra time to be helped to the table, and the waiter paid close (but not cloying) attention to making sure everyone was situated comfortably and that their special requests were respected. There was not a bit of awkwardness on her part, and she didn’t seem rushed at all. Kudos to her for that. To me, this kind of thing is huge.




But here’s the kicker. You see, unlike the rest of civilized, sophisticated, metropolitan America, here—in and around Jeff City—meals of fried chicken and country ham are still practically ubiquitous, and I’ve had a lot of them since I’ve moved back to the state. These foods are available at all manner of diners and cafés, as well as church suppers, in this area.

But I swear, the food at Westphalia Inn actually tasted like my own Grandma Renner’s cooking. Not “similar to,” but just like. It almost blew my hair back. It was like traveling back in time to “dinner at Grandma’s house,” the white bread and jelly, the mashed potatoes and gravy, the chicken, the ham, the green beans . . . even the cole slaw tasted like hers. I almost wanted to ask for a glass of milk, to make my childhood memory complete.




Okay, I know that your grandma’s cooking might have been very different from my grandma’s cooking, but surely you can see my point, and understand why this old-fashioned food tastes to me like none other in the whole world, and how, with Grandma gone, it’s like a precious disappearing resource—and you can see why I’ll be back.