“I’m really going to miss this place,” Sallie McDonald told me last week as we sat in what used to be Jessup’s Tire.
I’d come to find out how I made the
terrible mistake in my column two weeks ago, implying that the new owner of the
building was being unreasonable about the date to vacate the premises. “Let’s
just say he was understandably eager to begin work,” she corrected me.
We looked around at the walls and
floors, the windows letting in morning light, the beauty of the past preserved
in the present use of the building by the Lindsay-Strathmore Coordinating
Council in their modest, but critical offerings to the community. I realized that I’m really going to miss this
place, too. It will be demolished by the
new owner.
The thrift store’s counter is in the
same place where I first met John Jessup in the last years of the tire shop’s operation. I went there with the excuse of wanting to
know if I could still buy tires for the 1947 Dodge flatbed I’d acquired in
August, 1994, hoping to use it as a parade vehicle for my rural advocacy
work. I looked around as he thumbed
through the catalogs of tires, finally delivering a certain “yes” to my
question. The years of serving this
community showed in the photos of Lindsay High football teams and class
pictures displayed on the walls, the ads for cars and tire companies, the word
“vulcanizing” prominent. John Jessup
held his place in this town with dignity and respect. I felt privileged to be there to witness it. On the shop’s last day of business, I
photographed the interior, wall-to-wall.
“Who knows the history of this
building, how the City came to own it?” I asked Sallie. She said “Joe.”
Joe Mohnike sells insurance two
doors down from Jessup’s Tire, so I passed by his open office door, saw him
sitting at his desk, and went inside. It
turns out that Jessup’s Tire had once been his grandfather’s livery stable, one
of two in town. The stable had a place
for dipping livestock in creosote to protect them from vermin, and Joe’s first
sentences of concern were that the soil contamination there should prevent the
demolition of the building.
Another reason appeared. “John Jessup gave that building to the school
district for educational programs and some kind of museum,” he followed. “They didn’t want it, so they sold it to the
City for $2,” he said, correcting another mistake I’d made two weeks ago.
But his concern about the building was
trumped by his concern for LSCC’s efforts.
“It’s sickening,” he said, “the one thing this town really needs – the
Coordinating Council - is being pushed aside.
No one’s getting rich from it, and it brings people downtown. Nothing else does that but the hardware store
– what does that tell you?”
Both Joe and Sallie view the large
number of empty run-down buildings in town as part of the problem we face in
revitalizing our community. These
buildings are the town’s anchors, like the root of a tooth. The historical knowledge and caring needed,
which seem to be missing at City Hall, are here, waiting to be tapped. May we find another path than the one we’re
on.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy
Wischemann is a rapt listener to Lindsay’s stories. You can send her yours c/o P.O. Box 1374,
Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a
comment below. Thanks to my editorial
board for keeping this story straight.
What has happened to the neon signs?
ReplyDeleteSorry I didn't see your comment before this (Jan 31, 2018) but I don't know. I'll try to find out.
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