By Pauline Masson –
Early Pacific was accustomed to loud arrivals – the smoke belching, fire spewing first steam train in 1853 and the Confederate Army that set the downtown on fire on October 1. 1864. But nothing ignited the residents like the week the new Interstate Highway 66 arrived. It was literally explosive.
The construction from the east reached Pacific city limits on September 23, 1932. But before it could go through the city the well known landmark – a remnant of a former mining operation – Sand Mountain had to be cut back. There was only one way to do it. With dynamite.
When the town was platted for the arrival of the Pacific Railroad in 1852 the mound at the north edge of the town was a gently slopped hill. According to an unknown historian, the rise known locally as Prospect Hill, “was a beautiful promontory, extending out from the main ridge and was well rounded-up on the south side.”
“In the evening the girls got tired of sewing and took a walk to the top of Prospect Hill, where they could view the valley all the way to Port William (present day Gray Summit).”
It was T.M. Ault, a Missouri Pacific Railroad engineer and developer of Ault’s addition to Pacific, who saw the value of the silica sand deposit beneath the beautiful hill and changed the face of Pacific.
T. M. Ault, started quarrying out the silica sand before the Civil War, according to Arnold Schindler pioneer sand and gravel plant superintendent, and shipping it in barrels to Pittsburg and other points. Digging was done by hand with picks and shovels, moved by mule cart to the railroad and shipped by train to Pittsburg. Glass makers in Pittsburg never saw anything like it. The sand from Pacific was among the purest sand anywhere on earth, 99 percent pure white silica sand, and so soft and friable they could crumble it with their hands. It was perfect for making clear sheets of plate glass.
Pittsburg Glass Company would eventually have a mining operation here. The silica, known as the St. Peters Formation stretches from Pacific to the Mississippi River, just beneath the surface. In some places, like Pacific, the sand poked above the surface. As larger mines went into operation, Ault’s old mines at Sand Mountain were abandoned and the caves were left to the vagaries of local boys and the Catholic Sodality who positioned a life sized Nativity Scene there.
Silica sand is basic material in dozens of products. So much silica sand was shipped to San Francisco to make chips for the computer industry that they called the place Silicon Valley. U.S. Silica people say there is enuough silica sand in the Pacific outcrop that sand will be mned here for another hundred years.
From the beginning and to this day silica sand and the landmark Sand Mountain were a monument to progress here. But in 1932 it was in the way.
Route 66 was established in 1926 and construction was begun in Illinois the following year. By August 1931, work was started in St. Louis County. Two routes were under consideration for the stretch between St. Louis and Gray Summit. One, which would save money, would pass a mile and a half north of Pacific, completely bypassing the city.
Mayor Clarence Mayle, a charismatic super-salesman who in 1911 had convinced his father to let him sell cars from the family grocery store at First and St. Louis Street, and later built a successful dealership, encouraged the new Lions Club and a group of Pacific businessmen to join him and persuade the federal highway commission to bring the new highway through Pacific.
The success of this campaign gave the entire country one of its most distinctive and lasting stretches of what would later be the most romanticized interstate highway in the U S. taking motorists past the Red Cedar Inn, the annual Nativity Scene in the bluff, Mayle’s distinctive house and Shaw Nature Reserve.
By September 1932, State road workers were blasting a cut over 100 feet deep directly through a hill between Pacific and Eureka for the new road that was being constructed along the north side of the Missouri Pacific tracks.
Within weeks the Gaines Brothers contracting were ready to begin blasting on the landmark sand hill at Pacific.
A reporter for the St. Louis Post Dispatch, on hand for the event, reported that modern equipment could be seen perched on the picturesque old sand hill in back of the Catholic Church and blasting was ready to began to create a right of way for the road.
The residents were a little worried. Houses were located on both sides of the bluff and St. Bridget Catholic Church and school stood just 100 yards across the existing gravel road from the b luff.
On the first blast, 60 pounds of stick dynamite was plugged in holes, bored into the rock with compressed air drills. Residents stood in clusters on each side of the bluff to witness the spectacle.
When the thunderous blast went off a huge segment of rock heaved away and swept down the perpendicular face of the bluff in a cloud of white dust – 200 tons of rock was pitched from the crown to the roadbed of the new state highway, 90 feet below.
The vibration was felt in nearby homes as the thunderous blasts rattled dishes and rained rocks and dirt onto buildigs on Union and St. Louis Streets.
That was the first cut. The contractor, which was removing the bluff in sections, projected that sixty such blasts would be set off to cut the 200 foot long bluff back 45 feet at the top and 20 feet at the bottom. It would require 3000 pounds of dynamite for the job, to clear the ground for a 20-foot ribbon of concrete in a 40-foot right of way to allow for future widening.
Fot two weeks, day after day the blasting continued.
With one halt of three days when heavy rain drenched the city – they couldn’t have men climbing onto the slippery rocks to bore holes for dynamite – for two weeks the blasting continued.
For the most part, the town took it in stride. The local newspaper, which printed a weekly account of local activity under the heading “White Sand Blues,” noted the blasting
“We have the “White Sand Blues,” for sure now that they are making such a change on the face of the bluff.”
Dr. John Pletcher, the town dentist, the newspaper noted, just could not stay away from the corner where he could get a good view of the blasting.
“By October,” the newspaper reported, “everyone could see that the new highway was taking such shape and form that residents could visualize what the finished roadway would be as outlines and grades were being set forth more fully from day to day.”
On Tuesday morning July 17, 1933 the Pacific-Eureka stretch of the new Highway 66 was opened.
“Motorists could now easily travel to St Louis in 45 minutes without the trying trip over the old gravel road.” The local newspaper reported.
It was time to celebrate.
On August 10, 1933 the Lions Club, the American Legion and Pacific businessmen sponsored a grand celebration to recognize the new highway. A huge crowd gathered for the event that played out like a Broadway production, with the lights music, and dancing in the street.
Local electrician Nick Olmstead, using lights and equipment donated by Union Electric, spent several days installing and arranging lights to illuminate the bluff face for the celebration. Union Electric also supplied the electricity. The Result was spectacular. Citizens from miles around, who were unable to attend the celebration, viewed the spector from their homes.
“We received so many comments on how beautiful Sand Mountain appeared on the night of August 12,” the local newspaper gushed, “without the help of the Union Electric Light and Power Company and Nick Olmstead, it would have been impossible to show this wonderful mountain of sand in its massive splendor.
“If Sand Mountain could be illuminated each night as it was on August 12, Pacific would soon be advertised from the Pacific to the Atlantic oceans.”
The programs was presented at the foot of Sand Mountain. Beginning at 6 p.m. the celebrants listened as a line up of prominent speakers extolled the importance of the new road. After the speeches live music welcomed the crowd, which was was asked to spread out and make room for the celebrants to dance on the new highway pavement.
This grand road , and it’s economic benefits lasted to the mid 1960’s when the ‘Great Destroyer ‘ of small towns Interstate I-44 arrived. Year after painful year small town businesses closed for lack of patrons who had to get where they needed to go , and faster.
Now the time has arrived to bring tourist and shoppers back to Pacific. We are on the map, we just need to show the traveling public that we are still ‘here and welcoming’.
The City seems to be putting all it’s hope in one basket (money pit?), Red Cedar In Visitors Center and Museum.
I have been there twice and, although it seems to be a ‘good try’ so far,it is early, I was struck by a serious lack of promoting local shops, and our great array of industry in town. There is one hard to locate, sparsely populated, rack of flyers supplied by a few hopeful shops.
Where are the coupons , with directions, that I have seen in other nearby towns?
I suggest that our Tourism director, or our Tourism Committee do some extensive ground pounding and in person door knocking and get enough to fill another two racks, and put them out front by the check out counter, and not where they appear to be located as an after thought.
You can have all the local ‘fun days’ you want, but we need to get the message out to the traveling public. Miss Omalley now has her ‘ welcome center’ , she now needs to earn her salary , and show the rest of the Rt 66 fans what we have to offer, and local shops need to put more effort into helping her out. Two years will go fast, we still have very much more to do.
I definitely agree. Promote local business and local events like the rodeo, christmas and st patrick parades , all restaurants and business in a very prominent way. Join all route 66 organizations.