The weary traveler rides into the little town, the hooves of his equally weary horse kicking up dust along the dirt road.
The old but sturdy stallion steps over the newly laid railroad tracks crossing the road as his rider spies the freshly painted depot nearby and ponders how nice it would be to take the train on his next journey.
His red-rimmed eyes return to the road, but then something up ahead catches his attention. “Is that what I think it is?” he inquires to himself.
Seeming to hear him, the horse picks up his gait. Getting closer, the man’s sense of relief nearly overwhelms him as he realizes he won’t have to hunt for a local resident or business willing to provide some water for himself and his mount.
For there, right in the middle of the road, is a fully functional water pump – water for his thirsty horse, water for his own parched lips and dusty throat, and water to fill his canteen.
As he quenches his thirst and allowed the water to run down his neck and cool his skin, he’ll make it a point to remember this place – a hospitable little community where he has yet, in fact, to meet anybody.
LaRussell, Missouri, founded in 1903 as a depot for the Missouri-Pacific Railroad’s new rail line, was named for the vice-president of the railroad, Russell Harding.
To avoid confusion with another Missouri town with a similar name, “La” was added as a prefix, perhaps to give the name a little French-sounding panache. Some longtime residents even refer to their community as “L.A.” in conversation among themselves.
The town became home to general stores and feed lots as well as a church here and there. In later years gas stations and repair shops sprang up along the main street.
But LaRussell’s claim to fame is without a doubt that old water pump that graces the center of the highway.
There was a time generations ago when it wasn’t uncommon to see in some towns a water pump set in the middle of the road, but those days are long gone – and so are the pumps. But LaRussell’s stayed.
It hasn’t pumped water in decades, but that doesn’t matter. It is a cultural icon whose importance goes beyond mere functionality.
“A few years back,” longtime resident Linda Heman says, “a big truck hit the pump hard enough to knock it over. The highway department came along and pushed everything to the side of the road, then paved over the spot where the pump had stood.”
It didn’t take long for word of the pump’s demise to circulate. Through phones calls and text messages the word got out, but there even more help. This was 2009 when Facebook and MySpace (remember MySpace?) were gaining traction throughout the nation. The rallying cry went out to “Save the Pump!”
Within a couple of days, Ms. Heman’s son called the Missouri Department of Transportation to insist that the pump be put back, and soon it seemed everyone was calling.
“People from all over the country were calling the highway department,” Ms. Heman says. “Not just people who had traveled through here, but people who had simply heard about it and wanted to help save a piece of history.”
The powers-that-be in Jefferson City just didn’t get it. To them, the pump was simply an obstruction in the middle of a state highway that just begged for motorists to hit it.
Yes, over the years, many drivers who weren’t paying attention would leave parts of their cars behind and take with them a reminder that a large block of concrete will always win over a motor vehicle. Welcome to LaRussell!
What they didn’t get was that the pump was a vital part of life in and around LaRussell. It was the center of town. It was the meeting place – “Meet at the pump at 2 o’clock.”
It was a gathering place where people “circled the pump.” When children actually played outside, the pump was the “base” for playing hide-and-seek. It was the marker for distant relatives coming to the town – “Turn left at the pump and go two blocks…”
The pump welcomed home returning servicemen.
A.E. “Noney” Graff, a lifetime LaRussell native, wrote in 2009 a touching essay arguing for restoration of the pump to its proper place. After fighting in the Pacific during World War II, Graff was discharged from the US Navy. In February, 1946, Graff, along with many other sailors and soldiers, boarded a ship to the states.
From San Francisco, he rode the train to St. Louis where he went through a medical check and then, with discharge papers in hand, was put on a bus to Springfield, Missouri. From there he hitched a ride with a gentleman on his way to Carthage.
The man was kind enough to drive a few miles out of his way to take Graff to his final destination, LaRussell. Where did he get dropped off? At the pump, of course.
“There it was, tall and straight, like unto a sentinel,” Graff wrote. “For all practical purposes, it might as well have been the Statue of Liberty. It was beacon in the night!” Graff found himself standing at the pump, looking skyward at the innumerable stars and thanking God for bringing him safely home.
Finally, he turned and walked the two blocks to his in-laws’ home where his young wife rushed into his arms.
It wasn’t long before the state bowed to popular pressure, and the pump was set once again in its original spot. The town was whole again.
“We’d lost our ‘moral compass’ in town – we didn’t know where to turn, and some people had trouble finding their houses,” Ms. Heman said jokingly – or maybe not.
Regardless, everyone was happy to have the pump back, and it was decided to commemorate the event by decorating it for Christmas. So on Thanksgiving Day, 2010, a lighting ceremony was held at the pump, and a tradition was born.
It was decided the following year that a parade should be held at the same time. Ms. Heman, who was in charge of parade, said she found it hard to find a band. Understandable for a parade that is only a block long, and on a holiday.
Enter the Humdingers Kazoo Band, who has become a popular attraction. “Our parade is the ‘biggest little parade in Missouri’,” she says. “Last year there were 12 entries, and about 350 people came out to watch. This year the parade will be two blocks long instead of one.”
It has become a quite a hit, with one visitor saying that it was the best parade he’d ever seen (Ms. Heman told him he should get out more).
This year, two little girls who don’t remember there NOT being a parade convinced their parents, who had planned a Thanksgiving getaway for the family, to let them stay here with relatives so they wouldn’t miss it. A few weeks ago, a man called Ms. Heman and asked to enter in the parade a 50-year-old Lawnboy Loafer mower he was restoring. “Of course,” It’s wonderful to see a tradition grow.
The parade and lighting ceremony, complete with fireworks, will kick off at 5 p.m. on Thanksgiving Day, Nov. 22.
My wife and I plan to be there. I want to see that mower, too.
Nice Article Doug! Sheri and I will be there this year!
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