Essentially the Only One

Joe Page Bridge.

The Mississippi River is the borderline between the states of Illinois and Missouri and has been so since Missouri's origin as the Missouri Territory in 1812. For the most part this remains true for the entire length of the river along the border, but very rarely nature has played a trick on the geographers and moved the river after the lines were drawn on the maps.

Kaskaskia, Illinois, is one of these curious anomalies. In 1884, a great flood created a new river channel, converting what had been land contiguous with the western region of Illinois into an island. In due course, the Mississippi decided that it preferred this new eastern channel and the old western course of the great river dwindled into a small channel, effectively binding Kaskasia to the land of the State of Missouri.

This was an unfortunate fate for Kaskasia, for from 1809 to 1818, this town was the capital of the Illinois Territory and from 1818 to 1820, capital of the newly formed State of Illinois. Defiantly, it maintained its allegiance to Illinois, making it, and the surrounding farmland, a curious little incursion into Missouri.

Today it is practically a ghost town, a handful of houses surrounding a beautiful church. Only the street names, now long straight roads running through the corn and soybean fields, give a clue as to the former importance of this town. Isolation, repeated flood damage, and the relocation of the capital of Illinois, first to Vandalia and then in 1839 to Springfield doomed the town to decline.

According to the 2000 census, there are only nine people living today in Kaskaskia. I saw one, an aged farmer, sitting on his front yard eying me with an steady indifference that seemed to define my impression of this town. There was no tourist industry here, despite the clear historical importance of the town. Instead, the land was ruled by the wide corn fields enclosed by a high levee, growing tall and vibrant on the fertile, flood-enriched, land.

With agriculture as the only viable means of making a living, everything except faith had departed. Somehow, I felt this was enough. Did this town need to be resurrected with tacky souvenir and antique shops and coffee houses catering to the city folk out for a weekend? People much like me, in truth. There are enough of those. Despite its decline - or perhaps because of it - I came away from Kaskaskia with sense of rich, real life.

Fox Cemetery near Kampsville, Calhoun County, Illinois.

Our journey up to Chigaco last Tuesday took us up Route 100 following the line of the Illinois River valley.
One of the towns we passed through was Kampsville.

Situated on the western bank of the river, Kampsville exemplifies all the charms and idiosyncrasies of a small town in the American Midwest.

Like many river villages, it looks like it was built yesterday. This is probably because much of it was; as you can see from the photographs this area is subject to flooding. So the houses tend to be utilitarian in design, often prefabricated or mobile homes. Some are built high on steel stilts.

There are exceptions, like this restaurant where we stopped for home-made pie (peach and blackberry).

We arrived late in the afternoon, so the place was deserted except for us, three staff members and a worn-looking retiree sitting at the bar. A quiet Wednesday afternoon in Kampsville.

The only activity was the gentle back and forth of the ferry carrying a handful of cars across the river to Route 108.

I watched as a Volkswagen Beetle (the old series - still far more classier than the newer and less-than-satisfactory remodel) waited for the boat.

A small ramp in the road led up the ferry entrance. Cars coming to Kampsville would drive down past this village sign.

Buried in a hollow and shaded by the afternoon sun, it struck me as a modest and uninspiring welcome. Suited, though, to this unprepossessing town.

It really should be so much more. The countryside around is beautiful. There are a number of riverside parks and reservations close by. In another part of the world, I could imagine this town as a tourist trap, not a sleepy backwater.

The ferry headed off with the Volkswagen. It didn't look at all exciting on the other side of the Illinois so we did not follow it.

Time was pressing though. We had to reach Chicago at least a reasonable hour.

So we walked back to the gas station where we had left the car.
Past the stained shacks and pools of flood water, past the riverboats tied to the bank.

All looked like they has seen grander days. Some even looked as if they had been floating restaurants or even small casinos, but there were no signs or lights to advertise their trade.

Perhaps they come to life at the weekends or later in the season. I hoped so.
But I doubt it, or even if that does happen, it is hardly a moneymaker. Like so many rural towns in this area, the prevailing impression is of a gritty poverty. Not desperate, but barely getting by, and the antithesis of any sense of America as country of abundant wealth. I find such places to be real and honest. I feel at home in them in a way that I never feel in the glitzy McMansions of the big city suburbs.

I would be happy to see the poverty overcome and prosperity established for all the people, but not at the cost of turning these towns into little bastions of affluence, all show and no substance. There is a middle way.

Perhaps now, in these days of economic disturbance and the growing realisation that the disparities and expectations of wealth between the rich and poor have grown too great, this country can return to the ways of real worth, compassion and caring.Finally, into the car and further on up the road.

A couple more photographs from my trip to Pere Marquette State Park on Saturday afternoon.

This is the view from one of the lookout points just off the scenic drive that follows the top line of the bluffs that overlook the Illinois River valley.


It illustrates that there are only two types of color on a clear Missouri/Illinois winter's day - blue and brown! I love these subtle colors; not for me the super saturated primaries that seem to be in vogue for a lot of digital photography. Far in the distance to the right of the photograph you can see the silver strip of the Illinois River and beyond that Calhoun County.

And here's a close up of some Calhoun County farmhouses, beyond that strip of water with the evening mist rising from the valleys


The focal length (35mm equivalent) of the top picture is 10mm, that of the bottom is 560mm. Different lenses, it goes without saying. I was using a 1.4x extender on my long 400mm zoom for the long shot - I wanted to see how well it resolved at that magnification. I found the result pleasing.