2012 Summer Tour - Day 2

Mark has decided to take the day off so we make plans for fun and adventure.  We have our coffee, and decide to travel South.  Holly has heard there is a place near Roseville that sells bread.

The place she has heard is an Amish enclave that has moved into the Roseville area and they sell their produce at the Farmer's Market and small shop adjacent to their home.  Outside two men dressed in traditional Amish garb are sitting in a sing.  Running around are two kids, a girl and boy.  She has the long dress and bonnet, the boy has the suspenders, pants and flat brim hat.  Sorry, no pics, it just didn't feel right.  

We enter the store and find all kinds of interesting things, but Holly has her eyes on the bread.  No Rye, as Holly questions the young rosy-cheeked girl repeatedly manning the counter.  But hey we do have white, wheat and cinnamon swirl.  We can't take them yet because they are in the oven.  We have an hour to wait till the bread is ready so we decide to go to Ponemah. The above picture was of the most delicious smelling stuff in the world.  The smell engulfed the car and Holly was kind enough to break off pieces for us.

Never heard of Ponemah? Don't feel bad.  It doesn't exist anymore.  This is one of the buildings that were in use 50 or so years ago as part of the Sinclair Oil Company pumping system.  Don't bother Googling it, there is nothing on Ponemah and I mean not-a-thing.

Ponemah was an unincorporated place south of Monmouth and opposite Larchland.  All that exists now are about three buildings, an old lagoon and a railroad line.

My grandfather, Leonard E. Westlake, my mother's dad, worked for Sinclair after dropping out of school at a young age.  He was a water boy for workers putting in a nationwide pipeline in the ground.  He eventually worked his way up in the company and was given a pump station of his own which was located in Ponemah.  There were three or four houses, mostly of people who worked the station there and very little else.  

This is the only picture I have of Dick at work.  I have no way of knowing if this is in Ponemah or Quincy.  Date your old photos people.  Or better yet,  scan them and put them in a storage disc. 

After a few years when my mother was born here, they moved into Monmouth, where she would enroll in Monmouth College, meet Herb and the rest is history.  Dick and our grandmother Mona, would alter move to Quincy Illinois where he was the superintendent of that pumping station.  He retired in 1959.  

These are photos of that station, or what is left of it.  Leonard, or Dick, as he was called, was the chief honcho here and I am not sure how many it employed.  It was certainly neat walking around the place and exploring.  There is very little left for treasure hunting since the buildings have been used for farm equipment storage for decades.  Yes, we were certainly trespassing. 

Gothic, spooky place even in sunlight.  Thank heavens we had Miss Maddy to protect us from...oh...say, owners. 

Wombie Mark casing the joint and those big steel doors with the weathered patina would make wonderful decor in just the right room.

What ya doing, Mark, hiding?

This is one of three building left.  Big and big-blocked, these structures were built to last.  The walls are solid with thick as hell blocking, but the roofing is not so good.  

Dark passageways lent for some spooky exploration.  Wouldn't want to be stuck here at midnight.  Used now for storing farm equipment, all that is left is roof and walls.

Mark was curious about these two gauges fairly high on the wall.  We saw no evidence of stairs or a walkway.  There is even a light there that lends itself to closer inspection.

Old piping long since stopped functioning.  I wish we had pictures of the inside in its heyday.

Outside is a lagoon.  How it was used in the pump station is a mystery, but it is now used for refuse and old plastic drain field piping.

Another look at the left side of the lagoon.  There are also mounds of block which made us think some of the building had been bulldozed down.  One sign plate read "Building Number 6", and there are only three left.

An older boiler.  It read Kewanee Boiler on it.

Toilet that hasn't seen a good crossword puzzle in years.

Shower.

There were no treasures to be had, but that doesn't mean we left empty handed.  On that far wall were 4 or 5 strange 8 inch or so wall devices that swiveled and had a large screw for further tweaking.  One or two may have ended up in the truck, but we wanted more.  There was mention of a lever, the front of an old fuse box and circular valve handle.   

This is not the fuse box we wanted, but this was large and looked newer. 

Stairway leading to another dark area of mostly empty space.

Storage area.

Hard telling what was stored here.  Can't imagine foodstuffs, workers would have had that at their homes.  No one slept her.

We decided to leave, get the bread from the Amish folk and then head into Roseville for lunch.  There we had the best tenderloins and it was here that we hatched a plan to obtain some old pump station ephemera.  We were weren't exactly pickers, we were going to be takers.  

We went to the local hardware store to see what items we needed for our larcenous project.  It was agreed that a crow bar and a hack saw would serve our purposes.  Our plan was to get the front of the old fuse box and the "Building Number 6" nameplate above the door.  

Unfortunately, the tools did not work for our needs.  We had to walk away from the treasures in defeat.  No bail money needed today.  No cops and robber chases through the cornfields.  No "Look at me, Ma, I'm on top of the world" exclamations as the cops close in.  Nope, not today.  Not today.