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Somewhere on the north side of Independence, on my way to MidContinent library, I used to pass a house with a stone slab in the sidewalk, just below the steps, that had "Delft" carved into it. I never had the courage to ask any questions and I doubt the same people lived there any more anyway. My curiosity about that house has always stayed with me because Delft was an outstanding art form in The Netherlands. If I remember rightly, there was Delft ceramics. I'm not sure now. I'll do more digging. Delft is, of course, also a town in the Netherlands and I suppose the art form picked up its name from the town. Pieter de Hooch was an artist there there.
I don't suppose anyone knew a Delft family in Independence? It really is a coincidence to see the name so far from The Netherlands.
Somewhere on the north side of Independence, on my way to MidContinent library, I used to pass a house with a stone slab in the sidewalk, just below the steps, that had "Delft" carved into it. I never had the courage to ask any questions and I doubt the same people lived there any more anyway. My curiosity about that house has always stayed with me because Delft was an outstanding art form in The Netherlands. If I remember rightly, there was Delft ceramics. I'm not sure now. I'll do more digging. Delft is, of course, also a town in the Netherlands and I suppose the art form picked up its name from the town. Pieter de Hooch was an artist there there.
I don't suppose anyone knew a Delft family in Independence? It really is a coincidence to see the name so far from The Netherlands.
I went all the way back, every ten years from 1960 to 1911 in the alphabetically listing (gives both personal and business) and did not find any "Delft" listing.
I went all the way back, every ten years from 1960 to 1911 in the alphabetically listing (gives both personal and business) and did not find any "Delft" listing.
Thank you. That may mean that it wasn't a family name. Perhaps a business that sold Delft art. To quote Lewis Carroll, "it gets curioser and curioser.
Thank you. That may mean that it wasn't a family name. Perhaps a business that sold Delft art. To quote Lewis Carroll, "it gets curioser and curioser.
Here is something a little curious:
Clinton Bowles, Associate Professor, Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering, University of Missouri, Independence, Mo. 64050; formerly at Delft University of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands.
I took this from a footnote in a book on Google Books.
Clinton Bowles, Associate Professor, Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering, University of Missouri, Independence, Mo. 64050; formerly at Delft University of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands.
I took this from a footnote in a book on Google Books.
Aha! That explains a lot. The house may be where he lived. A lot of immigrants named their property after places they came from. Thank you very much.
I did find a shop in The Netherlands online with pictures of some of the Delft ware. Beautiful.
Back then each state had its own laws concerning motor vehicles but at some point each state subscribed to a Universal Motor Vehicle Law.
I recall some driving rules that were different between Missouri and Kansas because each had different motor vehicle laws. There were probably others.
“No passing” yellow lines in roadway: In Missouri, the yellow “no passing” lines on a highway were in the middle of the lane one was driving in, that is halfway between the center line and the right side of the roadway.
In Kansas, the yellow line was at the extreme left of the lane one was driving in meaning in the middle of the entire roadway but on your side, as today.
When Missouri changed the law there were two yellow “no passing” lines in the roadway for a while. Years later in some areas one could still see the faint yellow “no passing” lines in the middle of the lane.
One or both states also had a “No Passing” sign at the side of the roadway where a yellow line began and another sign advising when the yellow line ended.
Hand signals: Many people back then were using hand signals on a daily basis to signal a turn or slow down because turn signals were an extra cost option on many new cars. When it was really cold out and the wind was blowing or it was snowing hard, hand signals were a safety procedure hard to live with.
In Missouri if one wanted to turn right, the driver put his left arm out the window and pointed it straight up in the air. In Kansas, the right turn signal was the same. In Missouri if one wanted to turn left, the arm went straight down and to slow down or stop the arm went straight out. In Kansas the arm went straight down if slowing down or stopping and straight out if turning left.
Stop signs: Both states had eight sided stop signs that were painted yellow with black lettering until each began replacing these with red signs and white lettering. It took a number of years before all these signs were replaced.
Sally36 probably plowed through a yellow stop sign when she drove her boy friend's car one evening.
Traffic lights: I recall seeing stop and go lights at intersections minus the yellow warning light. At a red, yellow, and green traffic light some states had the green light on top rather than red. Some areas, and apparently still do, had these traffic lights placed horizontal with the red on the left rather than having vertical lights.
An item I have seen twice in my life both times in the 70s and 80s, at a highway junction in Kansas and in Alabama, was a red stop light wherein the red was open in the middle an inch or so. When the light turned to red from yellow, inside that opening was a very bright white rapidly flashing strobe light that could be seen for a couple miles. In Kansas on US Highway 54 near Wichita this type of light was used at an intersection where many fatal accidents had occurred. That intersection has since been improved and the flashing white light replaced with a normal red light.
Somewhere on the north side of Independence, on my way to MidContinent library, I used to pass a house with a stone slab in the sidewalk, just below the steps, that had "Delft" carved into it. I never had the courage to ask any questions and I doubt the same people lived there any more anyway. My curiosity about that house has always stayed with me because Delft was an outstanding art form in The Netherlands. If I remember rightly, there was Delft ceramics. I'm not sure now. I'll do more digging. Delft is, of course, also a town in the Netherlands and I suppose the art form picked up its name from the town. Pieter de Hooch was an artist there there.
I don't suppose anyone knew a Delft family in Independence? It really is a coincidence to see the name so far from The Netherlands.
Do you remember what street this was on? Was the library at Maple and Osage then?
[quote=WCHS'59;25656178]
Quote:
Originally Posted by WCHS'59
Traffic lights: I recall seeing stop and go lights at intersections minus the yellow warning light. At a red, yellow, and green traffic light some states had the green light on top rather than red. Some areas, and apparently still do, had these traffic lights placed horizontal with the red on the left rather than having vertical lights.
Nebraska is rather fond of the horizontal traffic lights. I was used to seeing such an arrangement where there is a clearance or visual impediment to the traditional vertical, but up there they seem to do it for no particular reason.
Do you remember what street this was on? Was the library at Maple and Osage then?
Maple, Spring, Osage - all very familiar names but I'm sorry I cannot say exactly which street I walked on. I didn't always walk the same one. I like variety in my outings. But, the one I am talking about I did walk most. I am guessing again now but I think it was to the west of the library.
I'd said to someone that I thought there was a senior retirement apartment building across the street but now, as I wake up better, I believe I am wrong. Was it a fire station?
I'm sorry. I'll have to leave that search to those who still live there. I've been away too long. Wish I were back.
In the forties and fifties, before most Independence streets were paved, the children in my neighborhood experienced an annual treat. We got to watch our roads being reworked. It was an annual affair and always occurred during the hot summer when school was out. All the kids would come out in their front yards and watch the heavy equipment come rolling in to “oil the roads.” It was great excitement, especially for the boys.
Our area came into the Independence city limits in 1948. The roads were not paved but neither were they graveled. The city provided an all-weather surface called “chip and seal,” which had to be applied annually to keep the roads in good shape. After the residents were warned to keep their cars parked on adjacent streets, our street would be closed off and there would be no automobile access for up to two days. I think they put advisory signs out in the neighborhood as the time was approaching and just beforehand, a city worker drove his truck up and down the street honking his horn as a warning that cars should be moved off the street and out of the driveways. If a car was not moved from a driveway, it was tough luck. There were, however, not a lot of cars on our block.
The city would then close the street and start plowing the roadway up with a huge machine similar to a farm disk. The disk would cut up the entire roadway including the many “washboard” areas that chip and seal roadways were famous for developing.
Next a road grader spent a lot of time smoothing the disked road to prepare it for oiling.
Next a truck with oil spreading nozzles across the rear end made a spraying trip up and down the block to cover every bit of dirt that had been graded. The oil was applied hot and was extremely messy.
Next the city workers put up closure ropes (actually twine with a little red cardboard sign hanging from the middle) and let the oil soak in for a day or two. In the meantime, the residents would have to walk in the ditches or on their neighbor’s property to get to and from their homes.
The next day or so a dump truck came along and spread miniature crushed rock maybe a quarter inch in size that we called “chat.”
Then a heavy roller came through and made several passes pressing the chat down into the oil as much as possible.
After the roller made its several passes, the closure signs were taken down and the cars could come through.
After the cars began using the roadway, the curing time for the chip and seal process took a while. It was a messy process and we went barefooted in the summer and would walk on the roads and get oil spots, or tar spots as we called them, all over our feet and lower legs. We had to clean ourselves with kerosene before bath and bedtime. But there were always some parents who were content to let the tar “wear off” their kids. Lower car fenders also had to be cleaned of oil splotches thrown up by the chat.
If the weather was hot, and it usually was, two tire lanes down the middle of each street would show ugly tar strips where the cars further pushed the chat into the oil. A lot of the chat, though, wound up in the drainage ditches where it was thrown by car wheels.
It took a month or so for the road to look normal but the process provided a minimal all-weather road to drive on that was much better than normal crushed rock and it was not dusty after the first day or two.
Somehow the city was able to do 500 miles of streets each summer. But, at some point the city fathers tired of this process and they paved every street in Independence.
I don’t know that I ever saw another city do their streets this way, but I guess they must have.
After previously removing the old pavement, my city here is paving my residential street today. It is every bit as interesting to watch the workmen do this today as it was to watch the chip and seal process of the residential streets in Independence in the fifties.
I watched a street crew fill a hole in Noland Road in front of the high school a few years ago. One cleaned out the hole. Another poured tar into it. A third on a machine rolled over it. And a fourth did a finish job.
No, I am not kidding. Four men to fill a hole the size of a dinner plate. Union rules, perhaps?
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