Rise Of A Small Town

How Peterstown and Bellfontaine met their Waterloo

By Martha K. Baker

Norman Rockwell’s painted townscapes. Zona Gale’s Friendship Village stories. Mayberry R.F.D. reruns.

The thought of Waterloo, Ill., (pop. 10,000) conjures up a host of small-town images—but modern-day Waterloo also promises that in 20 minutes you can be shopping at South County Center and that you can zip home from a Cardinals game in 25 minutes.

Waterloo is the best of both worlds, say its inhabitants. It offers the high points of small-town living—good schools, neighbors who look out for you, no place too far by foot and no crime to speak of—yet sits close to St. Louis. “You’re not going to miss a thing living in Waterloo,” says John Gallagher.

Gallagher and his wife, Susie, own Gallagher’s Restaurant. They moved here from South St. Louis five years ago, after months of “going for a ride in the country” and ending up in Waterloo every time. In February 2005, they opened their rehabbed eatery, designed as a destination restaurant. Their dream has paid off.

On Sundays, Gallagher says, “there are more cars out front with Missouri license plates than Illinois.” Maybe that’s because on Sundays they serve a family-style fried-chicken dinner, with green beans, custard corn and biscuits with jelly. Dessert is often Susie Gallagher’s Dalmatian cake, so called because chocolate chips spot the white cake beneath whipped cream. The dinner screams “infarction on a plate”—but what a way to go.

Gallagher’s sits on Mill Street, near its intersection with Main Street. Of 16 historic structures along Main Street across from the new Monroe County Courthouse, only two were built in the 20th century, says Linda Polka, a local historian. She tells stories about Emery Peters Rogers, who arrived in the area in 1816 and quickly opened the first permanent store, a mill and the quarry—the foundation of Peterstown. Just across a tributary of Fountain Creek rose the settlement of Bellfontaine, and legend has it that North and South fought from opposite sides of that creek. Neither side wanted to cede naming rights to the mercantile interests on the other bank. Enter an Irishman, Charles Carroll, who in 1818 built his house on one side and his barn on the other. “Begorrah! I’ll give ye’s both your Waterloo,” Carroll crowed to the rivals. The name stuck.

Waterloo became the Monroe County seat in 1825, and the government continues to be a major employer, after the school district and Wal-Mart. Alas, the advent of Wal-Mart meant the demise of downtown stores. “Waterloo is not a Kimmswick,” says JoAnn Meier, referring to Waterloo’s lack of tourist-attracting “cute little shops.”

An area real estate agent for 23 years, Meier was one of the first remodeling returnees to downtown Waterloo, which continues to revive. Her Re/Max office, Gallagher’s and Sts. Peter and Paul Roman Catholic Church are the only hot spots open on Sundays on Mill Street, but on weekdays Ahne’s Bakery is packed with customers for the Danish and fresh peanut cake. Up on Main Street, the scent of smoked meat lingers around JV’s Restaurant.

“Jeff Vogt has the best barbecue in the St. Louis area,” says Quinta Scott, writer and photographer, who moved to Waterloo after decades spent living in St. Louis’ Central West End. She spots egrets and blue heron from the office window of her exurban villa, which overlooks one of six golf courses within a 10-mile radius. “I never expected to be living on the outskirts of a small town—and loving it,” she says.

“If I still lived in St. Louis,” she adds, “I wouldn’t be as sanguine as I am now.”