The Welsh Baby Carriage Company, and its eponymous five-story factory, is a prominent landmark along I-55 in St. Louis. The Welsh Baby Carriage Factory on the south side of downtown no longer bears the company’s name. But the building survives as the Soulard Market Apartments.
A discussion with a couple of people who went to the same high school I did brought up a few dark topics from that era. One of them mentioned a place called “Charter.” I asked him if he meant Charter Hospital and/or Charter Behavioral Health.
He said yes. He didn’t know much else about it. It turns out the company still exists, though not under the same name and not under the same line of business. The Charter name and business model disappeared in 2000, even though the company who owned it still survives today.
For St. Louisans of a certain age, Stan Musial was almost as famous for his restaurant as he was for what he could do with a baseball bat. Musial and his business partner, Julius “Biggie” Garagnani operated a steakhouse near Musial’s residence. In 1949 he sold a half share to Musial and they renamed it Stan Musial and Biggie’s.
Stan Musial had a storied career in St. Louis. He was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame, and spent his whole career with the Cardinals. In 1947 he even played with a failing appendix. He lived a very public life both during and after his baseball career. His various businesses contributed to that public life, but they also made him wealthy.
I’ve driven past the old building dozens of times. An old German-style restaurant building still stands at 3016 Arsenal, with a faded sign across the street that reads, “Bavarian Inn. Free Parking. Customers only.” Here’s what little I can find on the story of the Bavarian Inn, St. Louis.
Old timers in St. Louis and Kansas City talk sometimes about Velvet Freeze, a St. Louis-based chain of ice cream stores. One Velvet Freeze ice cream store remains in the north St. Louis suburb of Jennings, and a few other reminders of the chain remain around St. Louis and Kansas City, but it’s mostly a memory now. Here’s a look back at Velvet Freeze history.
St. Louis-based Central Hardware was one of the first big-box home improvement chains. It peaked in 1993 at 39 stores in six states in the midwest, employing 3,700 people. It was once the 19th largest hardware retailer in the United States.
Central Hardware’s motto was “everything from scoop to nuts,” a play on the English idiom “soup to nuts,” which means beginning to end. Their inventory was over 40,000 SKUs, comparable to today’s home improvement stores. Its stores regularly exceeded 50,000 square feet. That’s about half the size of a typical home improvement store today, but it was large for the 1970s and 1980s. Traditional hardware stores ranged in size from 2,000 to 10,000 square feet. Its employees wore orange vests so customers knew who to ask for help.
St. Louis has a number of good thrift stores. They’re good for saving money, and if you’re looking for collectibles, there’s something more thrilling about finding it in a thrift store than a collectibles shop. Here are my recommendations for St. Louis thrift stores.
The last exit on I-255 in Missouri before the Illinois border is Koch Road. Turn right on Koch Road, in a community now known as Oakville, and you run into the curiously named Robert Koch Hospital Road, which runs through a residential area. But where’s the hospital? It turns out Robert Koch Hospital was demolished in 1989.
The sad story of Robert Rayford (aka Robert R), the first documented victim of HIV/AIDS in the United States, shows that if timing had been a little bit different, the AIDS epidemic could have happened a decade earlier than it did, and its epicenter could have been St. Louis instead of New York. His story raises some uncomfortable questions. How did HIV end up in St. Louis, of all places? And why did it stay local to St. Louis rather than becoming an epidemic?
His story made me uncomfortable, and sometimes that’s how I know it’s time to dig in a bit more.
The Aero Monorail was a futuristic monorail train that first hit the market in 1932. Manufactured in St. Louis by the eponymously named Aero Monorail Company, it was designed to suspend over Lionel standard gauge track and run faster than the standard gauge train.
The stands came in two varieties: a pair of free standing towers, and a series of towers that slipped under Standard gauge track and used the same 42-inch diameter. The motor looked like an Erector motor and ran on 6-8 volts, either DC or AC.