1929 Hickory: A Look Back

It’s a rare thing anymore, to raze a 19th century building within the Lafayette Square city and national historic district. The treatment is usually reserved for condemned properties that prove hard to sell and present an imminent danger of wall collapse. 

1929 Hickory Street sits at the intersection of Hickory and Mississippi Avenue. At least for the moment. The unoccupied building experienced a collapse of its west wall in mid-February. It’s a pivotal moment in the live of a key corner.

Its history goes back to 1889, purpose-built for a storefront on the ground floor, with living quarters above. True to form, it held a procession of stores, confectioneries, taverns and soda fountains. The last commercial use appears to have been as the Hickory Street Gallery in the late 1980s.

It is a building typical of the late 1880s. I counted four courses of brick in the broken exterior wall. The roofline cornice is accented with colorful corbel brackets. An ironwork storefront supports a bulky brick second story. Neighborhood ironmen, Christopher and Simpson fabricated the beautiful iron columns and lintel.

The grocery years

A family named Smit or Smith were the first owners I can identify. Lizzie Smith died of “la grippe¹” in 1892. Her mother died three years later. The funeral, as was customary at the time, took place at home. 

Life went on at 1929 Hickory Street. In 1907, John Johnson ran a grocery there. The Post-Dispatch reported on a twenty year old from the neighborhood who had twice hidden himself behind barrels in the store, then stolen tobacco and cigars. Johnson died the following year, and his widow Anna continued to run the store until around 1914.

Alloway allows a bad roomer to start

Turkish immigrant Seid Alloway ran a sort of soda fountain/speakeasy at this address in 1922. Prohibition was in effect, and one had to operate clandestinely as a ‘confectionary’ to make a living from booze. His skill at dodging the law was dubious. Alloway found himself arrested fifteen times and fined on three occasions for possession of liquor.

The most sensational event in the history of this building occurred in February, 1923. Alloway and his wife were found shot to death. He had five bullets in him and she held another two. The story was that Seid’s wife killed him out of jealousy and was, in turn, shot by Seid’s cousin Hammie Shane, who lived with them. Hammie told police that he fired another six shots out the window to attract them. 

Police found the Alloways lying in their night clothes. Shane stood nearby in a blood smeared shirt. His revolver was full of expended shells and also stained with blood. Another recently used revolver sat on a nearby table. Between the drawers in a dresser, police discovered nearly $3,000 in cash. This was probably to cash paychecks for International Shoe employees who worked across Mississippi Avenue.  

A hard man to pin down

A grand jury found Shane to be insane in 1924, and committed him to the city sanitarium. He soon escaped, and commandeered a skiff down the Mississippi River, making it to Hayti, MO. He was apprehended and returned to the sanitarium, from where he promptly escaped for the second time in a month. 

Again, Shane lammed it down to Hayti. He was soon arrested on a liquor law violation. In court ten days later, Hammie stood a Winchester and a shotgun against a wall. The judge decided to hold Shane for trial under $1,000 bond. Shane smiled, walked to his guns and, holding one in each arm, shouted, “Here is my bond.” Two bailiffs and a sheriff’s deputy made no effort to stop him as he strode out. 

Friends in high and low places

There’s a history here, too. Michael Kinney was a younger brother of Tom “Snake” Kinney, a saloon keeper at Second and Carr Streets. Tom’s brother-in-law and partner was Thomas Egan. Together, they founded the notorious Egan’s Rats around 1890. This was a predominately Irish gang, active until about 1925. It boasted extensive political and police ties within St. Louis.

The Jack Daniel caper

During the summer of 1923, the contents from 893 barrels of Jack Daniel whiskey were siphoned off, and replaced with water. This was theft of impounded liquor, held under guard 24 hours a day. It took a whole lot of palm greasing and inside recruitment to pull off something so dramatic and yet surprising to the press. 

By November, 1925, thirty-nine individuals were indicted and accused of conspiracy to violate Prohibition law. The list included the St. Louis collector of U.S Internal Revenue, state senator Kinney, two Republican party bosses, a Democratic committeeman, a deputy circuit clerk, the leader of the ‘Bottoms’ gang, constables and an assortment of bootleggers and gamblers.

Mike Kinney declined to prosecute, or press for Hammie Shane’s return to St. Louis. For their part, local authorities in Hayti lacked the incentive to round up a heavily armed man who swore he would not to be taken alive. In this weird detente, Shane spent the next nine months working as a plumber in Hayti. In late January, 1925, a sheriff and two deputies attempted to arrest him. He jumped from a second story window and escaped home. When officers approached the house, he appeared with an automatic weapon and threatened to kill them all. The officers backed off. 

End of the road for Hammie

On February 10, 1925, Shane refused two surrender ultimatums. The sheriff and an eight man posse opened fire and a wild flurry of lead ensued. Shane actually called for a taxi during the gun battle. When it arrived, Shane ran out the back door, and into eight lethal bullets.

Mike Kinney was found guilty by the first court that tried him, but the judge called for a retrial. By the time all the above had taken place, it was March of 1928. The prosecuting attorney dropped the charges against Kinney and others. Why? Well, it’s funny the way things work out. 

The Post-Dispatch concluded that a gangland feud erupting after the murder of Tom Egan involved Mike Kinney. It claimed that Kinney’s reluctance to press charges with Shane after being shot four times verified the police theory of a gang attack, intended to even up some accounting. The law sometimes stood aside and let things run their course – especially if the violation of the law ran through wealthy and influential citizens. 

Interesting final note regarding Hammie Shane – following the fatal shootout, he left an estate valued at $50,000. This would be the equivalent of a cool million today. Not bad for an insane part time plumber. 

Next man up, the beat goes on

Continuing to change hands, Mike Vesich was next to run a saloon at 1929 Hickory. He and his family lived upstairs from 1936 through at least 1942. It continued to function as a tavern through 1945. John J. Tobin then took over the bar. In 1947, he was arrested for running a horse racing book. Instructive of both times and neighborhood was this clipping from a year later. 

In 1951, illiterate tuck pointer Luther Dillard shot and killed his recently estranged wife in front of the tavern, as she entered a taxi. Police said he readily admitted to the shooting. Married for two years, they frequently and publicly quarreled during that time. Dillard said he thought she was leaving the bar to meet another man.  

The troubled Townsley years

The next proprietor, Homer Townsley, was shot in the chest during a 1955 dust-up with a woman in the tavern. The assailant was 28 year old barmaid Juanita “Ginger” Bumpus, who resided upstairs.  

Townsley had his liquor license suspended a year later, for gambling on premises. This happened repeatedly, with punchboards being the usual culprit. 

A year later, Homer’s brother Harold, a tree trimmer, was shot to death in front of the bar. An argument inside the tavern drew officers, who calmed the situation. A short time later, as Harold stood outside, shots issued from a car which then careened away.

Later in the 50’s, 1929 Hickory was, perhaps euphemistically, renamed ‘The Neighborhood Bar.’ Its clientele seemed to resist any change in aura. In 1964, several shotgun blasts fired from a car headed west on Hickory wounded six men and shattered a plate glass window.

Only a year later, a barroom brawl broke out, and one man was shot in the back and leg. Four other men fled the scene. A good argument could be made that the place as a bar, regardless of ownership, was truly incorrigible:

Maybe something other than a tavern

The bartending line of work for this corner building finally came to an end with its purchase by Walter Moody, Susan Bailey and Darryl Meyer in 1983. 

The trio dubbed it ‘Hickory Street Pottery,’ advertised as ‘Hickory Street Gallery.’ It specialized in crafts, and frequently hosted exhibitions. The gallery came to an end around 1986. A kitchen design firm called Juergens-Votino, Ltd. took over the first floor in 1989, although Walter Moody and family continued to own 1929 Hickory until selling it in 2024. 

The building declined with time. I often passed the large side yard there, thick with its combination of bamboo and honeysuckle. Now there’s a botanical death match for you. At last glance, it looked like bamboo may have won out. 

Thoughts on the fallen

There’s an ineffable sadness in seeing such old-world craftsmanship meet its destruction. Window panels with delicately carved scrollwork lies where it fell, behind a chain link fence. Yellow warning tape cautions against getting too close. The giant oak joists once supporting the second floor now lean on the far wall, or partially hang in mid air. I don’t know what is going to replace 1929 Hickory Street, but current accepted methods hint at a wood frame affair with a single course of brick on the exterior. Maybe the distinctive facade will be retained. The resulting hybrid will be semi-historic, but will blend inoffensively, and not be a hazard to passers-by. 

Century old buildings are generally replaced by structures that won’t last nearly as long. I think of the originals as history books in a library – pick a volume and see what tales it holds. When we lose one, the fascinating story of the whole district gets diluted a little. This is a wake for 1929 Hickory Street. Its sins long forgiven, the place will be missed.

Resources

More on Christopher and Simpson; successful iron shapers and good neighbors. https://lafayettesquarearchives.com/1893-iron-men-of-lafayette-square-christopher-and-simpson/

1. Further information on the flu pandemic of 1890 here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1889–1890_pandemic It was responsible for over 1 million deaths globally, and forensic epidemiology has linked the cause to an early form of coronavirus. 

Burglar hiding behind barrels from St. Louis Post-Dispatch; July 4, 1907

The shooting of Seid Alloway and wife covered in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat of June 16 and 17, 1923. 

Shootout in Hayti; Globe-Democrat; February 11, 1925; February 16, 1925. Estimate of Shane’s net worth from February 11 Globe-Democrat. 

Indictments in Jack Daniel theft case; St. Louis Star and Times; November 2, 1925

Police theory about Kinney dropping charges against Shane. St. Louis Post-Dispatch; December 19, 1925

A good brief history of Tom Egan, his relationship with Tom and Mike Kinney, and the Jack Daniel heist is at Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egan’s_Rats#:~:text=Egan’s Rats was an American,Missouri, from 1890 to 1924.

Photo of Tom Egan from C.J. McInnis; 2021

Theory on rationale behind shooting of Mike Kinney from Post-Dispatch; January 11, 1926

1951 killing from Post-Dispatch; January 20, 1951

Shooting of Harold Townsley from Post-Dispatch of August 2, 1956

Shooting of Homer Townsley from Post-Dispatch of July 7, 1965

Photos of 1929 Hickory from Google and the author