A Late Visit to Chestnut Valley 1961

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A Late Visit to Chestnut Valley 1961

by Trebor Tichenor

It was the early '60's and the Mill Creek redevelopment was in full swing. The "headache ball" was leveling all the old buildings on Market and Chestnut streets in what had been known as Chestnut Valley, the turn of the century sporting district where ragtime grew up in St. Louis.

Alarmed, the late ragtimer Russ Cassidy and myself immediately began taking snapshots of all the known addresses of the ragtime composers and players, as listed in They All Played Ragtime and the city directories.

Our top priority was Tom Turpin. His original listing at #9 Targee Street had disappeared in the 30's when Kiel Auditorium was built. An extension of the original Targee Street, called Johnson Street remains, running south of Kiel.

The Rosebud Building, where Turpin moved in 1900, was the last to go in the area around 22nd and Market. My friend and fellow Ragtimer, Al Stricker, and I made a pilgrimage to the Rosebud in June 1961 to salvage what we could. The area by this time was mostly deserted; "Condemned" signs and notices of the danger of rats greeted us. We also had to endure a terrible stench coming from some of the basements, mainly along Chestnut Street, one block north of Market.

At last we braved the inside ofthe Rosebud building. The main entrance (2200) was at the west end of sthe building; a door to the east, the actual 2222 address, opens to a stairway that led to the second floor.

The first floor was divided into two rooms, with a large archway in the middle of the separating wall. All the fixtures were gone. Ironically, we later by chance met the person who had bought the salvage rights: It was one night at our regular gig at the Natchez Queen in Gaslight Square. Al was introducing "St. Louis Rag," and mentioned the Rosebud address. The salvage buyer was in the audience. He later told us he had been unable to sell the back bar and had destroyed it.

The second floor is described in They All Played Ragtime as a "hotel." Indeed, a narrow hallway led to many small rooms. We salvaged bits of wallpaper and pried some of the metal numbers off the doors. A brisk wind suddenly slammed one of the doors. Undaunted, Al quipped, "Tom, is that you?"

In the basement I found a swinging door that had been relegated to the basement toilet. There was also a wooden sign, barely readable, that said "Four Devces." This was a later name for the bar (taken from the address, 2222 that ex-Chestnut Valley sport, Robert McClennan recalled. (Robert was the favorite waiter aboard the Goldenrod Showboat in the late 60's.)

After saving the swinging door, we went to work on the heavy green wooden front door. An elderly black man sat on the sidewalk across the street, totally perplexed at why two young white boys would want the front door of a condemned building. Finally, he could no longer resist a comment: " Boys, take some, but leave some for me." We also salvaged a painted transom from a deserted barber shop across the street.

Still not satisfied, I was determined to save the hand rail from the basement stairs, and a door I had seen earlier in the side entrance way (what Rudy Blesh and Janis call the "Family Entrance." ) The door was painted: "Commit no unnecessary nuisance."

I returned with another ragtime friend, antique dealer John Watson. As we pulled up in his station wagon, much to our dismay, the building was already half knocked down. The painted door had disappeared in the rubble. John and I managed to gain access to the basement stair banisters after I recalled another stairway in the wall separating the two main first floor rooms. Located behind the bar, this stairwell was possibly for bringing supplies up quickly from down below. This part of the Rosebud was still standing. We entered the basement, stumbled through the brick rubble and managed to tear loose one of the banisters. John tied it to the top of his station wagon and we were off with our last treasure, one last remnant of this building that had been St. Louis' ragtime mecca.