Photography by Whitney Curtis
The Bengal Lancers provided the 131st Veiled Prophet Ball with some comedic relief. At one point, a lancer nearly speared a maid by accident, all part of the fun. “At least they’re all wearing pants this year,” one observer joked.
Traffic reports about “the depressed section.” Is it sad? Kinda, yeah. The “depressed section” is the cluster (in more ways than one) of interstates downtown, where traffic snarls and hope flags. At least we’re putting parkland overhead—Prozac for the commuters.
All those grassy knolls? Why are they called “mounds,” and why aren’t they all at the Cahokia Mounds site? They are earthen “pyramids”—built for ceremonial structures or burial grounds by the Mississippian civilization, the most advanced prehistoric native civilization north of Mexico. The state of Illinois has been slowly buying them back from the idiots who razed them for subdivisions or big-box stores.
All the birds—Fredbird, the Weatherbird, that eagle that flies around the sign…? Winged celebrations of baseball, beer, and old-school journalism—the anchors of American civilization. The Weatherbird that lands on the St. Louis Post-Dispatch’s front page every morning is 115 years old, the longest continually running comic strip in the nation. Fredbird’s the Cardinals mascot. And takeovers be damned, the Anheuser-Busch eagle on the Highway 40 billboard still flies for every Cards home run.
The place people just call “Crown”? It’s up in Old North, you wait forever for a hard wooden booth, the food’s totally unhealthy, they never bothered to expand, the waitress doesn’t even write down your order. All reasons we love Crown Candy Co. Also its amazing ice cream. And the bacon. And you never know who you’ll see jammed into one of those booths.
Oblique references to three flags? On March 9, 1804, the Spanish lieutenant governor formally transferred St. Louis (well, all of Upper Louisiana) to France. The Spanish flag was lowered; the tricoleur was raised, and it flew overnight. The next morning, we joined the United States. Those 24 hours are known as Three Flags Day, and you can celebrate them at Three Flags Tavern.
The high expectations of trick or treaters? No entitlement here—God help the kid who tries to grab a fistful of miniature Snickers and run. He’s gotta at least tell a dumb joke to earn that candy.
Schoemehl pots? It’s an affectionate term for the sewer pipes—um—terra cotta planters Mayor Vince Schoemehl filled with dirt—um—potting soil to block the way—um—make the city safe and beautiful.
The Veiled Profit? No, no, no, it’s a mysterious mythical masked man who—well, yeah, has a lot of money. But it benefits everybody. And he’s a prophet. He appears anonymously in a bevy of lovely young women in ballgowns who kiss his hand. No, it’s not a cult! It’s a secret society. Geez! See a behind-the-scenes glimpse of their annual ball.
Who Are These People? It’s easier to keep them straight by analogy: Emmy Pulitzer is our dowager empress, the Danforths our knights in shining armor. For some reason, sports announcers—Harry Caray, Mike Shannon, the Bucks—wind up our court jesters. And local politics is Shakespearean, with Rex Sinquefield trying to buy the throne and Francis Slay playing Hamlet. Check out SLM's power list to see a who's who of St. Louis.
What to Call the City? Not St. Louieeeeee (too cute) or The Lou (too scatological). And you are not a St. Loo-EEZ-ee-uhn. You live in “The Gateway City,” where pioneers and Gold Rushers stocked up before venturing into unknown territory. It’s not “River City,” though it could be—there’s a whole confluence of rivers. It is arguably the “Rome of the West,” settled into civilization by flocks of priests and nuns; “Fourth City” (a nod to past glories); “Mound City”; and the “City of Gabriel” (for our jazz trumpeters, angelic only when they played).
What's Up With the Old-School Names? Our language clings to tradition—people still call I-170 “the Inner Belt” and Missouri Botanical Garden “Shaw’s Garden.” Also, there’s an Old Cathedral—formerly the Cathedral of St. Louis, which is the Basilica of St. Louis, King of France, shortened to the Basilica of St. Louis, King—and a New Cathedral, but when people just say “the cathedral,” they mean the new one, which is actually the Saint Louis Cathedral or, formally, the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis.
