Hi, Everyone!
If you have visited my profile page during the last couple days, you may have wondered why there is a picture of a house posted down below. This is the place where my Mom and Dad and I lived for about a year back in 1949-1950, which is now The Stone House Antique Shop located at 201 Cedar Street in St. Charles, Illinois. The house was built in 1841. Whenever I visit this little Fox River town, I make it a point to stop in at The Stone House, a wierd experience to be sure because walking in makes me feel like I'm coming home but of course that's not where I live anymore. I am grateful to whoever has expended so much money and effort to preserve the house which has never been registered as a historic landmark. Registered or not, 201 Cedar Street has great historical value. Alas that I have missed "Black History Month" because this would have qualified for sure.
THIS OLD HOUSE
In the bad old days when slavery was in flower and people could be bought and sold like property, the Underground Railway was the only hope for many but just getting away from the plantation didn't necessarily mean freedom because the escaped slaves were still considered to be someone's property to be captured and returned sometimes for a bounty. It is said that Harriet Tubbman dreaded the prospect of somebody's recapture because she knew they would be tortured and possibly made to give up details of whatever they knew about the Railway. So a lot of care had to be taken in helping the escaped slaves get to a safe place.
UP THE RIVER
Among many other precautions, travelers on the Underground Railway had to be transported in boats up the Fox River only under cover of night. During the day they had to stay hidden in "safe houses" along the shores. If a boat was approaching St. Charles at the first light of dawn, the captain would pull up to the shore near a "safe house" like the one at 201 Cedar Street. The escaped slaves would have to disembark, walk more than a block through a dark tunnel and then climb up a ladder and through a trap door into what someday would be "our" basement. There in those dark rooms the people would take shelter for the day, waiting for night to come again so they could continue their journey.
By the time we moved in during early autumn of 1949, the Underground Railway belonged to the ages, the earthen basement floor had been replaced with cement, and the trap door had been paved over. We never knew about that part of the house's history or about the ongoing drama that had occurred in those spooky, dark basement rooms where now my Dad shoveled coal into the furnace, my Mom did laundry and I sometimes played on rainy days. We were there for about a year and although we enjoyed most of our stay, the house sometimes seemed a little scary to me after dark. One night as I was about to go upstairs to bed, suddenly an invisible man marched down the stairs, walked around me and down what used to be a hall into what used to be our dining room. (This was a startling experience -- not mysterious creaking but the definite sound of someone wearing heavy boots treading over our hardwood floors.)
We were only at 201 Cedar Street for about a year because of a great tragedy -- the serious illness and death of my mother when she was only 42. My Dad and I just couldn't take living in the house anymore where there were so many memories and so we moved to Woodstock so that my Dad could be closer to his work. As far as the old house was concerned, now we belonged to the ages too.
TODAY
The Stone House is a block north of Main Street (Route 64) on the east side of the river and is a part of an area called "Century Corners." The most convenient way to get there is to turn off on Third Street but I suggest turning off on Fourth Street (a block closer to the river) instead. When you drive up the hill and the house at 201 Cedar Street comes into view, you will get a better understanding of how far those frightened people had to walk underground and how high they had to climb to get to the basement of where we used to live. Today we don't know their names but God bless them all (and the people who helped them) and I hope they all got to their final destinations safely.
Best Regards to all,
AnnaBanana