Cape Girardeau Resident Still Looking For City Of Roses

Fake News written by Martha Throebeck on Monday, January 7, 2002

from the city-of-faux dept.

Five years ago, Bob Schrimscher relocated to Cape Girardeau, advertised as the City of Roses and the World's Only Inland Cape. Since that time, he has seen neither a city of roses nor an inland cape.

"What a scam!" he bellowed. "There are lies, damned lies, and Chamber of Commerce brochures."

Since his arrival, Mr. Schrimscher has explored the city looking for roses and, with the help of a hand-held Global Positioning System receiver, has plotted all known rose beds on a map covering the wall of his den. Except for the small Capaha Rose Garden and a few backyard rose beds, the map is empty.

"You call this a City of Roses?" he asked while pointing at the wall. "What roses? I don't see any roses. What next? Will Sikeston proudly proclaim that it is the 'City of Snow-Capped Mountains'?"

Meanwhile, Mr. Schrimscher has also explored the entire length of the Mississippi within the city limits looking for a cape. His results have been less than satisfactory. "Oh sure, there's that oxymoron called 'Cape Rock'," he explained. "But any trace of a 'cape' was apparently obliterated by the railroad nearly a century ago."

Before this reporter could get a word in edge-wise, Mr. Schrimscher continued his rant. "And what about the name 'Girardeau' anyway? Ensign Girardot was probably some French guy hoping to get-rich-quick by trading with the Indians. He probably made a camp here for a day, traded a few furs, maybe scratched the message "Girardot Was Here" on a tree somewhere... and for this he gets a city named after him? What a joke."

"And don't get me started about Jackson, 'Home of the Indians'! Sheesh," he said before finally stopping to take a breath.

I tried to point out the flaws in his arguments, but he would have none of it. "There used to be a large rose garden along the highway between Cape and Jackson," I tried to say. "And the French and Spanish explorers referred to every small pebble jutting out into the river as a 'cape'. And doesn't Cape Girardeau sound better than Lorimier's Ferry or Lorimont or Decatur?"

But Schrimscher continued to rant about all of the "false advertising" the city has used. "When is the insanity going to end?" he roard.

I cautiously tip-toed out of his house and quietly escaped. I don't want to be around when this mentally unstable person discovers that Marble Hill doesn't have any marble or that Pocahontas never stepped foot in Pocahontas or that Egypt Mills has neither mills nor Egyptians.