Temblor of 1939 made headlines, too

Q. When your paper listed the area's worst earthquakes on April 19, you left out one in November 1939. I suppose it was too small to list, but can you tell me what was the size of it? I was a child in East St. Louis and my husband was in church in Prairie du Rocher, but we remember it.

-- V.D.C., of Red Bud

A. People probably gave thanks for more than just their turkey when they sat down to their Thanksgiving Day dinner here on Nov. 23, 1939.

At 9:15 a.m., an estimated 4.6-magnitude temblor shook up residents in a 150,000-square-mile area just as they were starting to prepare their holiday feast. That was just a bit less severe than the 5.2 shock that hit April 18 and the same as an aftershock that hit later that morning.

The 1939 quake was so intense that it knocked one of the needles on the St. Louis University seismograph off its hinges, according to the Nov. 24 News-Democrat. Actually, it may have been two tremors, the paper reported: a stronger quake that went on for 30 seconds followed 10 seconds later by a second one that lasted 15 seconds.

When all the damage reports were in, only a handful of cracked walls were reported in Belleville, including one on South 88th Street and another on South 11th. The most distressing loss seemed to be 20 fifths of whiskey that broke in an East St. Louis tavern when a shelf collapsed.

Later, people felt brave enough to joke about it. Political wags, for example, called it a sign from above. Since 1863, Thanksgiving had been the last Thursday of November as decreed by Abraham Lincoln. But in 1939, Franklin Roosevelt moved it to the fourth Thursday to boost the economy by extending the Christmas shopping season.

Sure enough, Republicans joked, because Thanksgiving should have been celebrated on Nov. 30 that year, God shook things up to spoil the first "Franks"giving Day.

Nobody was laughing when the quake hit, though. A Belleville Advocate reporter, for example, reported bobbing up and down in his bathtub, feeling like he was in a rowboat in rough waters without oars. Residents near Union School were reported as being particularly alarmed because their nerves were still on edge from a devastating tornado the year before.

It's no wonder your husband remembers the quake. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, its epicenter was just southwest of Red Bud, near the tiny town of Ames. At the time, scientists said it was caused by a shift in the rocks of the St. Mary's fault region, which extends along the Mississippi as far south as Cape Girardeau.

It certainly grabbed the attention of at least two couples being married at the time. At St. Peter's Cathedral in Belleville, the friends and family of Joseph Schmittling Jr. and Marcella Schoen rushed out of the landmark church, fearing its imminent collapse.

Police said someone called the station to ask, "Is it all right to go ahead with the wedding?" Talk about a groom with shaky feet ...

In Red Bud, the altar shook and walls quivered while the Rev. John Spors was saying vows, but after several anxious moments (and the bride's return to the altar) the ceremony went on.

The quake was felt as far as Milwaukee and Leavenworth, Kan., but, fortunately, it was nothing like a major quake that leveled 16 villages in Eastern Turkey the next day. And, that was just a foreshock to the Erzincan quake that would kill 35,000 on Dec. 27, 1939.

By the way, you can research most any significant earthquake in the world from 2150 B.C. on -- along with information on earthquakes in general -- at the National Earthquake Information Center Web site at http://earthquake.usgs.gov/regional/neic.

Q. Where can you buy Hush Puppies for men? I can't find them anywhere.

-- Darrel Hirsch

A. Trust me when I tell you that I feel your pain. Much to the dismay/embarrassment of family, friends and colleagues here, I have been an H.P. addict for 40 years. Now, probably like you, I have three pairs of old dogs that are starting to look mighty long in the tooth.

It's funny, because I was very reluctant to try them at first. In high school, the idea of wearing blue/gray suede seemed so radical after a life of having my foot growth stunted by pair after pair of tight, pinching conventional leather from Hills Brothers ("Two for 5, man alive!" was the cheap store's slogan, I think).

Besides, when you think about it, they aren't very practical. In a year or two, you usually get spots on them that can't be removed with that wire brush. By that time, though, you've probably worn down the heel, and they can't be resoled.

I also remember one day when I ran seven blocks to Belleville West in the rain. By the time I got into the cafeteria, I felt I was sloshing around in very soggy, thin, loose-fitting cardboard boxes.

Even so, you still almost have to pry them off my feet now. I keep waiting for Emily Post or Dianne Isbell to approve them for funerals and weddings, but I suppose that's asking too much.

Alas, even though they're celebrating their 50th anniversary this year, they're becoming a dying breed, I was told point-blank by a customer service person at Wolverine Worldwide. After enjoying a resurgence in the mid-'90s when the Council of Fashion Designers named them best accessory, they're once again falling out of favor. Hush Puppies stores in St. Louis malls are long gone.

But all is not lost, thank goodness. I'm told Shoes.com at 8300 Maryland Ave. in St. Louis (314-854-4000) carries a limited selection, but can order more from a catalog. Or, if you know your size, order directly from Wolverine; see the complete selection at www.hushpuppies.com or call 866-699-7365 for human help.

By the way, did you know the company was first thinking of calling them "Lasers" back in 1958? They changed their mind when James Gaylor Muir, the brand's first sales manager, ate some hush puppies (the culinary variety) on a trip through the Southeast.

When he asked why the Southern delicacy was named such, he was told farmers threw them at their hounds to "quiet their barking dogs." Equating sore feet with barking dogs, Muir immediately applied the name to his company's new shoe.

Q. Kevin Costner once starred in a movie in which he escaped from a penal work gang. Then, while running through the woods, he discovered a mail carrier's skeleton in a truck loaded with mail, which he then delivered. Please see if you could find out the name of the movie.

-- L. Schaltenbrand, of Belleville

A. "It is 2013. War has crippled the Earth. Technology has been erased. Our only hope is an unlikely hero."

And, of course, Kevin Costner figured who better to play that hero than Costner, who rides to the rescue in the 1997 film "The Postman." Trying to convince the starving faithful that the U.S. government still exists, he delivers the old mail while building a revolt against the evil Holnists.

After playing the rogue savior in "Dances With Wolves" and "Waterworld," most critics cried "Enough, already!," calling some of the most serious scenes in the film unintentionally hilarious. Others, however, say it's well-intentioned and an interesting look at a post-apocalyptic America.

Whatever your view, it's available most everywhere on VHS and DVD for as little as 69 cents.

Send your questions to Roger Schlueter, Belleville News-Democrat, 120 S. Illinois St., P.O. Box 427, Belleville, IL 62222-0427 or rschlueter@bnd.com