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Teresa Lee

Close To Home

Not quite a native Ripley Countian - she attended only her last year of high school in Doniphan though she taught in the R-1 system for 32 years - Teresa (Pearson) Lee delights in surprising readers and herself with anecdotal observations of life in general. Maybe you can blame her St.Louis roots for a quirky humor and some slightly-askewed opinions, but never doubt she writes from the heart. For additional writings, check out her Close to Home Blog.

Close To Home

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Reading news of the upcoming auction of West Park Mall in Cape Girardeau, Mo., which opened in 1981, triggered some memories. I got a kick out of emphasizing the isolation of Doniphan by lamenting that it was a couple of hours from the nearest mall. At least that was the case when I moved here in 1969.

That fact did get me a smidgeon of the sympathy I thought I deserved for being yanked from St. Louis as a teenager. Then the closest was Indian Mall in Jonesboro, practically brand new at just a year old.

It should be noted I never visited a mall prior to that move, but the late 60’s were about the time they were popping up in St. Louis. Crestwood Plaza, opening in 1957, was considered the first, though it was more a shopping center. It would be enlarged and enclosed to compete in ensuing years.

Later, living in the boonies by choice, I continued using the mileage-to-malls as reference when I felt a bit deprived. Family vacations included mall stops. Lots of walking, very little buying.

As a parent to a toddler, anxiety mounted once we stepped through the grand entrance. What if I lost him or someone nabbed him? When he was a bit older we established a secret password, a technique I used with my high school students on trips to see French plays and exhibits. Mall food courts solved the ‘where do we eat so everyone is happy’ crisis but magnified my anxiety. More miles of walking and minimal shopping but always worth it. (I never lost a teen, though there was no shortage of shenanigans).

A few years before it was flattened, I took an eerie solo stroll through that mall in Crestwood. Shiny hallway floors reflected gleams from fancy lights made brighter against black storefronts. A post office at the far end was still operating but most patrons entered via its outside entrance. My footsteps echoed along with memories of music mingled with chatter from crowds of shoppers zipping by.

Another tally to the list of things that materialized AFTER I was born. I didn’t expect to outlast them.

For additional writings, check out Teresa’s blog https://www.theprospectnews.com/blogs/closetohome

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