The Big Niangua River by Glenn Boone Skinner

[worley76]

Just wondering if anyone out there has read this book.   I came across it a few years ago but couldn't find a copy anywhere since it was long out of print.  If you have an interest in the Niangua it is a most read.....chalked full of history.  I did finally come across a copy on amazon awhile back.  A fella out in Oregon had it and  I got lucky and beat everybody else to it.  My wife was not happy with the price I paid though!!!!

[fishinwrench]

For all of its scenic beauty, the one point along the Niangua that seems to attract the most attention and curiosity is not a specimen of nature. It is a man-made feature. For quite to everyone’s surprise, about midway between Buffalo and the Camden line, in what might be considered the middle of nowhere, there are bridge piers — three tall stone piers more or less in the river, plus a headwall and wingwall to one side — with nary the trace of a superstructure, no approaching road, and no apparent reason for being there.

It is a mystery that begs explanation. The piers jut some twenty feet above the normal steam level and appear to be quite old. Yet even the nearby campground operator is hard pressed to explain how they got there, or when.

But the answer to this mystery lies in ruins hidden nearby. Amidst the tangle of undergrowth, near the foot of the adjacent bluff, are the crumbled and decayed remnants of a town. It was the site, in days long past, of a settlement called Corkery.
In his book, The Big Niangua River, author Glenn “Boone” Skinner traces the settlement to the year 1863. In that year Edward Corkery, a millwright from Scotland, set up a waterwheel-powered grist mill on the river for one William Poynter.

Apparently Corkery stayed on after the mill was built and established a store nearby. Over the years this embryo of a town attracted a few other settlers. There would be, in time, a blacksmith shop, a sawmill, a ferryboat, and a larger general store with a post office. 

Fittingly, Edward Corkery was its first postmaster. Others who lived nearby made their living either by farming or by cutting railroad ties out of the surrounding forest and floating them down the river.
All that activity — especially the grist mill, where a farmer could have his wheat

ground into flour and his corn crushed into meal — attracted a constant, if not lively flow of individuals and families who were rather starved for human interaction. They came from both sides of the river and likely stayed a day or two just to catch up on the news of a world that was so very distant and different from their own. 

At some point a low water bridge was constructed to get their heavily-laden wagons across the Niangua. But the bridge did not last long, nor did the first grist mill. Both were victims of flooding along the capricious river. The big flood that everyone spoke of took place in 1902. No one can account for the ferryboat after that; probably it left for the lower valley on the crest of the rising torrent, never to be seen again.

A new grist mill was built after the flood, this one apparently sat back from the banks of the river and used a gasoline engine for its source of power. For a while, business resumed — but there were problems. In drier seasons, the river was shallow enough to allow wagons to ford across. And even early day automobiles, with their high ground clearance could get over at times. 

But it was a tenuous crossing, at best. If a driver were not careful, his low axle vehicle was likely to become a raft in midstream. Upriver near Buffalo, the state built a bridge over the Niangua. Folks around Corkery wanted a bridge, too, and they appealed to the Dallas County Court for assistance. 

Then, in 1918 or 1920 — the sources disagree — the county came forth with some money and the piers were constructed with local labor. Plans called for a steel and wood decked superstructure.

Then two things happened that put an end to any hope for a bridge. First, the grist mill, Corkery’s mainstay business, closed. Isolated as it was, even with the miller’s tithe of flour and meal from every farmer who brought grain to the place, it just wasn’t making money. And then some unnamed individual, who was supposed to be holding the money for the bridge construction, absconded with it. There was no more to be had.

And so, the bridge was never finished. What was left of Corkery gradually diminished until it literally disappeared into the wildness from which it once stood out.
There is a cemetery there, and Edward Corkery is said to be buried in it. But one would be hard pressed to point out his burial site. Like most of the tombstones, his marker has been worn smooth by the passage of time. One might instead regard the piers as Corkery’s monument; they stand silent and forlorn and hint at things that might have been.

[timinmo]

Great stuff.  I know absolutely nothing about the history of the river or area but that is a wonderful story.  I think many remote Ozark areas could tell similar stories.  Thanks for sharing.   

[fishinwrench]

As far as I know, the Corkery story is the most interesting one of the entire watershed.  But there was also a giant meteor crash a long LONG time ago, I believe it was between the river and Decaturville.  It changed the topography of the area for 12-15 miles.   Now that is one big ball of space junk!  

The HaHa Tonka castle story is pretty interesting too if you're into shrewd business deals and shady lawyer tricks.

The high bluff where the Niangua meets the Osage is a place where an Osage Indian chief threw his daughter to her death for flashing her boobs at little Indian boys. I guess she just couldn't keep her Ta-Ta's in her buckskin and the ol'man got fed up with it.  

[snagged in outlet 3]

Is Corkery now Ho Hum campground?

[ramman123]

not that i know of ho hum is past corkery just a lil bit on the opposite side of river

 

[snagged in outlet 3]

There are piers at Ho Hum aren't there?

[fishinwrench]

The pilings are at Ho-Humm but Corkery is (was) about 1/4 mile upstream on the opposite side.   

I've always wondered why they chose that spot for a bridge.    Why build a bridge from a near bluff to a gravel bar ?  A much easier and less expensive bridge could have been built just a short distance either upstream or downstream.  

[oneshot]

Wish Marie White was still around. Her mind was full of History of the Lead Mine area.

Me and my wife moved into the area just as many changes were being made in the area from the old ways to we can't have people doing that. Back then I packed for many good reasons.

oneshot

[fishinwrench]

Oneshot,  I knew the old school teacher.   I used to deliver ice to her little store.   She had a lot of stories and I always looked forward to having lunch there.  

There was a certain Amish family that she had a serious beef with. She kept a rusty old scattergun under the counter and must have reminded me 20 times why it was there.   From the looks of that gun I wouldn't have bet on it firing, but it made her feel "prepared".