A Digital Meltdown

I was unpacking from my Springfield, Missouri, USA vacation when I realized my digital camera was missing. That, and the Candy House Gourmet Chocolates were nowhere to be found.

I wondered if I'd left them at the Mansion at Elfindale B&B where I'd spent a wonderful week while savoring Springfield's sites, sights, sounds and scenery, all recorded on my digital camera.

No one ever thinks of Springfield as a Celebrity Spotting location. But now I had the photos to prove people watching in this town is not only an under-appreciated hobby but it was about to become a very lucrative career for me. If and when I found my camera.

I looked through my purse, my luggage, my car. I called the Springfield-Branson National Airport. I also called Fantastic Caverns, North America's only drive-thru cave. I called all of the hot spots that were conveniently located near the Ozark Empire Fairgrounds but no camera was to be found today.

I remembered a strange man that seemed to be following me while I was in the beautiful downtown area. I saw him behind me as I walked passed Trolley's, Nona's, The Coffee Lounge, Maria's, Bruno's, Lohmeyer's Funeral Home...The Discovery Center....Casper's... What did he want from me? My Camera! Why would he want my camera? Who was this mysterious man?

I first noticed the man, who wore a floppy canvas hat pulled down over his eyebrows, when I was having coffee at The Mud House, where I snapped a picture of Brad Pitt, who was visiting his hometown.

When I was strolling along Bob Barker Avenue on the Drury University campus where Bob Barker went to college, I saw the stranger lurking behind a hedge. No sign of Bob Barker, though.

I spotted John Goodman and Kathleen Turner at Missouri State University. They were in Springfield for the summer opening of Tent Theatre at their alma mater.

I kept retracing my steps ... The Landers Theatre, The Gillioz Theatre, Battlefield Mall (Broadway star Kim Crosby was shoe shopping there).

At the Mizumoto Stroll Garden, world-famous travel writer Patricia Bella Hobbblestone and her husband, Jeff, also known as Macaroni Pants were strolling hand in hand. I got a great picture of them kissing passionately on the moon bridge!

Then it came to me. I took a photo of Henry the Hippo at Dickerson Park Zoo, then went to the giraffe feeding deck. After feeding Stretch and the other giraffes, I set my camera bag down to clean the giraffe slobber off my hands.

I don't recall seeing the stranger at the zoo, but the Hobblestones were there.

Patricia Bella introduced herself and asked if she could interview me for a travel feature she was writing about Springfield.

"I like to talk with tourists for my stories," Patricia Bella said.

Macaroni Pants picked up my camera bag and carried it to a picnic table where Patricia Bella and I talked about my visit to Springfield.

I told Patricia that I had been out to the old Young Brothers farm out on Haseltine Road where the infamous Young Brothers Massacre took place in 1932. Six of Springfield's finest were gunned down, and it became a national crisis until the Young Brothers were cornered in Houston, Texas, three days later

And while I was out there, I was taking pictures of Ruell Chappell and Lori Anne Locke while they were singing songs from their album, “Storm's Comin',” telling stories with their songs about the events that took place that fateful day.

Lori told me that if I was interested, I could find the CD/DVD set for only $15 at Barnes & Noble on South Glenstone Avenue in Springfield or online at Ruell Chappell Music. (Whatta shameless plug!)

Patricia Bella asked me about my favorite place to visit in Springfield. I thought about the last time I was in Springfield, when my children were with me.

My daughter tried to open her mouth as wide as the teeth at the Discovery Center. My son caught a foul ball at Hammons Field during a Springfield Cardinals game. After the game, we saw a free concert in Jordan Valley Park.

RATS!! The photos from that trip were on the card in my now-missing camera!

To add to this depressing situation of the missing camera, I was really bummed out about the missing Candy House Gourmet Chocolates. The box was filled with chocolate covered cherries I promised to to pick up for our Annual Hoe Down & Square Dance at the Springfield Ballet.

I was surprised to get a phone call from Springfield-Branson National Airport, which was having a lost luggage clearance sale before the new airport terminal opened in May 2009. They called to tell me they found my digital camera and box of chocolates. It was odd that my camera would be at the Springfield-Branson National Airport because I drove to Springfield.

I didn't even know Springfield had an airport until the New York Times reporter flew into town to write about Springfield-style Cashew Chicken. I could tell that this story was about to have a happy ending when I noticed in my purse a can of shaving creme and a pair of tickets to the Springfield Cardinals home opener baseball game on April 9.

I tossed the shaving cream and called my good friend in Springfield to ask if she wanted to go to the Cardinals game.

Much to my surprise, she said that she couldn't make it because she and her kids were going to visit the Easter Bunny out at the Rutledge-Wilson Farm Community Park April 11. She said it was all the girls could talk about and knew that no matter how nice Kirk's shiny head looked on opening day, nothing would compare to the smiles on those kids' faces after visiting the nearly 208-acre Farm Park. It was just one of the 92 parks that their family had been trying to make it around to in the Springfield-Greene County metro area.

I let her know that while I thought that event would be pretty cool, I still thought she could squeeze in a baseball game. The baseball game, after all, was on April 9 and the Easter Bunny wouldn't be at Rutledge-Wilson Farm Park until April 11.

"Well, duh!" said my friend, Ima Dumast. "I never thought of that. Maybe we could go to the Springfield Art Museum and have cashew chicken at one of those cool restaurants downtown before the game, too. Did you hear about the a story in the New York Times about cashew chicken? I've been craving cashew chicken since I read it."

While my thoughts turned to the mouthwatering idea of cashew chicken, which was invented in Springfield in 1963, I couldn't stop thinking about my missing camera.

I also wondered if the airport personnel had put the camera in the same bag as the chocolates. What if the chocolates melted on the camera? What if the chocolates melted? What if the security personnel ate the chocolates? How would I get my money back to buy more chocolates? All this thinking of chocolates made me crave those chocolate-covered cherries even more than the fact that I missed my camera and I immediately started repacking to drive back to Springfield.

Once I was in Springfield, I stopped by the Convention & Visitors Bureau to check out the latest and greatest the Queen City had to offer. And there, right on the desk was a dark chocolate camera that looked a lot like my camera, only this one had melty fingerprints.

"Welcome to Springfield!" blurted out Suzanna Wadewrite, the the former beauty queen turned Public Relaxations Manager.

It was then that I noticed she had chocolate cherry breath and there was a smear of chocolate on her cheek.

"Hey, Wadewrite," I sneared. "What's up with the chocolate cherry breath and chocolate-covered camera?"

Suzanna's cheeks turned red as she explained that a man with a floppy hat who worked at the airport had brought the camera and chocolates to her.

"I knew they belonged to you but the box was open and I couldn't resist the chocolate-covered cherries," Suzanna sighed. "I wasn't going to eat all of them!"

I accpeted Suzanna's apology. How could anyone resist Candy House chocolates?

I took my camera and the half-eaten box of chocolates and went home, but not before I picked up a free visitors guide and brochures and started planning my next trip to Springfield.

The End

Contributing Authors: Bob Nelson, Lori Anne Locke, Melinda Arnold, Patsy Bell Hobson, Susan Wade, and Terry Dubbs.

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