The Faces of Amidon

by Jack Ward Skinner

Tall pine trees. Scrubby oak hardwoods and cedar glades. Rushing water, clear and cold, spring fed. Birds and wild animals of all kinds. Deer, drinking from a cool pool of water. And huge, red granite boulders, some intact, some broken. And the water rushing over these boulders, only to settle in calm pools for a stretch of the river. Then, another drop-off, and the water tumbles to another level and another pool. A beautiful, peaceful scene, like a miniature Garden of Eden.

And the water rushes on for centuries, its force makes it able to pick up small stones, gravel and sand. And this acts as scouring pads to wear away the rock, carving smooth, sculptured surfaces to contrast with the angular rocks, farther back from the river.

This area is so quiet and serene, only the noise of birds as they nest and search for food. Possibly, visited on occasion by Indians, but, otherwise, undisturbed.

Undisturbed that is, until the late 1700s and early 1800s. Then came the European man. And he began settling the land around these shut-ins. At first, man used this beautiful scene to fish and hunt game. And so, it remained, relatively untouched.

Then, a man, by the name of John Farrar settled on the land next to these shut-ins. In 1808, this land was granted to John by Henry Janis, one of the first Commissioners for the Madison County area. Janis was a wealthy merchant in Fredericktown and the St. Michaelis village. This farm continued in the Farrar family until August 28, 1901, when a W.H. Farrar sold it to William and Flora Combs. The Combs family then sold it to a Mr. Vaclar Franc Seddak on October 3, 1919. My Grandpa, Tom Ward, bought the farm from Mr. Seddak on August 17, 1921, and kept it until his retirement in 1955. And that is how I am so strongly connected and came to love this area.

But first, in the mid-1800s, two grist mills were built. One was below the bottom end of the shut-ins, downstream from where county road 208 crosses Castor River. This was by a fellow named Hahn, later, purchased by Mr. U.S. Skaggs. The 2nd mill was built right at the beginning of the shut-in area. The mills made use of the flowing waters of the river as a source of power. Farmers brought their grain to these two mills to be ground.

The common name, by the locals, for this area was Hahn’s Mill, and the shut-ins were referred to as the Mill Shoals, though many locals pronounced, “Mill Shows”.

Now the silence and peace of the area was broken, somewhat, by the industry of man. Still, there was hunting and fishing, but, also, the noise of machinery in use. And it would continue this way for another 120 years, or so. Except that, sometime in the early 1900s, the upper mill was destroyed by a flood. The Castor River has a mind of its own, sometimes. But people can still see the iron rods, driven into the granite rock, to anchor the mill. And picture the level of the river, quite a bit higher than it is today. There is a mill race, carved out of the rock, that is well above the current water level.

And, this is the world that I entered into in the 1930s. The upper mill was gone, and the lower mill was still there, but no longer in use. And the area was, relatively, peaceful again.

And it was, mainly, habited by the local farmers who did little to destroy this peaceful setting. Oh, there were a few intrusions. Sometimes, outsiders would come down from the city and dynamite the fishing holes, then gather up the masses of floating fish. Or they might take the old, battery-powered, crank telephones and stick the wires into the river, crank the phone, and pick up the stunned fish. This would get the farmers up in arms, because they were used to the river’s supplying them with another source of free food, but only what they needed.

And, when I got old enough, while spending a couple weeks during the summer with my grandparents, I would go down to the Mill Shoals, since it was just across the road from Grandpa’s bottom field. At that time, one would enter a single, foot path which wound around right along-side the river. You would enter this narrow path, right where the road makes a bend, at the upper parking lot of the park. But the path was outside the current fenced-in area. There were a couple of deep holes of water, near giant sycamore root-wads that provided a good source for sun perch. Just an old cane pole, or even a sapling, and a can of ready worms from the barn yard, and you could be in fishing heaven.

Then, in 1981, Evelyn Driscoll married a college professor from back East, by the name of Ellsworth Amidon. They planned to move to his home. Evelyn lived in a big, 2 story white house near where the U.S. Skaggs mill was located, approximately on the current, lower parking lot. Her farm included several acres along the Castor River. She had no one to leave this property to. So, she came up with the idea of giving half to the State of Missouri, and the other half to her husband’s college, if Missouri would buy that half. Missouri agreed to do this, and, down through the years, the State has acquired other tracts of land from private landowners and the U.S. Forest Service. As a result, the Amidon Memorial Conservation Area now contains 1,630-acres along the Castor River.

Once Amidon was on the map, crowds began gathering in. Some people abused the area, and restrictions had to be put in place.

Then, about 10 year ago, strong winds blew through the area, and it, pretty well, devastated the park. Beautiful nature trails led to the shut-ins, and old, old trees were blown down across it. The Conservation had to come in and clear a path, but you can still see evidence of the destruction done from that storm.

The park has been updated with an enlarged parking lot, the path has been restored, and even benches to rest on along the way.

But I still miss those days in the 1940s and 50s, when you could walk along, quietly, and hear the activity of wildlife and birds, going about their business. This is my all-time favorite place.

The Faces of Amidon