This is a repeat of the first time I posted this in 2002. For some reason, it was not retained in the archives. Sorry. Diane Butcher Town part I - take 7 This is a story that was in the St. Louis Post Dispatch on May 8, 1927. It was written by a St. Louis Post Dispatch staff writer. "BUTCHER TOWN - A little known District of St. Louis The inhabitants of this part of the city are unified by trade interests and traditions of friendship and here is carried on the packing industry that has grown out of the enterprises of the first butchers." Three photos feature prominently in the page. The first photo is of Charles W. ZIGENBAIG, a prominent Butcher Town resident who conducts one of the larger industries. The second photo is of Henry KAISER, 93, one of the oldest residents of Butcher Town, who remembers well the early days of that unique part of St. Louis. The third photo is of William RAINING, 74, who conducted a grocery in Butcher Town. The story follows: "Butcher Town, not an epithet of disgust and dislike, nor a demeaning term applied by residents of more pretention neighborhoods to a section of the city, but an expressive and descriptive name for a district engaged in a particular trade within the confines of St. Louis. Butcher Town is a distinctive neighborhood, just as much so as Dago Hill and Kerry Patch, whose nomenclature is based on ethnological grounds and is descriptive of the nationality of the inhabitants, rather than a means of earning a living. It is a wide district of streets that wander around much like a country road. The meeting of Cote Brilliante and Vandeventer Avenues is probably the center of it: He who wishes to meander its ramifications has but to " follow his nose", for the abattoirs are apt to advertise their presence to the four winds. It is a district in which home life and industry are inextricably mingled; frequently the sheds of a slaughterhouse will be on the same lot as a residence or the residence itself used for business purposes. This is caused by the way in which the industry developed from small beginnings. At the start, Butcher Town was inhabited by small butchers, each of whom as he moved in built on his own lot or adjoining it a slaughter house. Some of these small tradesman remain in business today, or rather, their successsors do, carrying on in the ways of the previous century. Others have developed their business into fairly large packing houses which kill daily large numbers of animals and supply meat over a wide district. Therefore it is a district in which homes huddle against businesses where the owner of an industry lives in constant contact with it; where the folks at home are just as close to the factory as the workmen are and know just as much of the business. Peculiar in the this community is the fact that the sons more often follow in the footsteps in the business of their fathers than the average run of families. Many a substantial establishment which grew through the years as its founder's family grew, is now supporting several families - those of the founder's sons and daughters. Stalwart and homely, these people are loving the pleasures and associations of home for many of them never have been out of actual contact with parents, brothers and sisters. The neighborhood families too, especially those engaged directly in the butcher trade are in continual association that makes for a solidarity and friendship that is rare to these days of big cities where flats shelter numerous families that are unacquainted with one another. The beginnings of Butcher Town were in the early 1850's when the shops were grouped around twenty-second and Morgan St., a short distance outside the city limits. Henry Kaiser, 93, one of the pioneers, recalls that there were little farms in the vicinity of Ninth and Franklin Streets and the Three Mile House conducted by a Mr. Conrades at what is now Prairie and Easton is the only structure in the present Butcher Town vicinity, except a shanty further out that had been a school house. There were no streets downtown then and men had to wear hip boots to navigate the mud. Money was scarce; butchers got eight or nine dollars a month and their board; and it cost that much to get a pair of necessary boots which were made of tough leather. There was no water distribution system; no lights at night. People today do not appreciate the public service conveniences they get for practically nothing, he says. Ordinary cows cost five to eight dollars and corn fed steers were a little more. Most of these, however, were shipped to New Orleans on river boats and most found their way to eastern markets on coastwise ships from the Louisiana port. He (Kaiser) was sent to Lindell's farm at Natural Bridge and Grant roads to buy a calf and found the owner in knee britches and silk stockings, still wearing the Revolutionary period costume. The calf, which Kaiser describes as three times its size for its age costs $1.50 and would be work $30.00 today. Steaks were two for fifteen cents; extra large ones were ten cents a piece. William Raining, 74, of Raining Bros. grocers also is a 50 year resident of Butcher Town. He recalls that the driving of cattle through the streets was sometimes an exciting adventure. The influx of wild Texas steers helped enliven these trips. The drivers mounted, drove the herds along with much noise and cajolery and were alright until a steer would break away and would go seeking pastures new unmindful of the welfare and fears of women and girls who might be traversing the streets. Vandeventer Ave. was the city limits then. Part Two to follow: O