Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.
Issue link: https://loumag.epubxp.com/i/174531
Twain's description of Cairo would have served the city's chamber of commerce well: "Cairo is a brisk town now; and is substantially built, and has a city look about it. . . . It was already building with bricks when I had seen it last — which was when Colonel (now General) Grant was drilling his frst command there. . . . Cairo has a heavy railroad and river trade, and her situation at the junction of the two great rivers is so advantageous that she cannot well help prospering." Alas, Twain was no prophet. We reach Cairo over a long series of bridges spanning a barge-flled Ohio River. One barge sinks at the shoreline; it seems an omen, and is followed moments later by a pair of encircled almost entirely by levees and walls. Away from downtown, in a pleasant leafy neighborhood, we fnd Magnolia Manor, a brick Italianate mansion built in 1869 by a guy named Gallagher who owned the four mill. Ulysses S. Grant slept here, but after his presidency. Te home is open for tours, but it takes a particular brand of stubbornness to earn one. I ring the doorbell and wait. And wait. And wait. My phone rings. My husband, waiting in the car to make sure I get inside before he returns downtown, ofers to call the Magnolia Manor phone number. I take a magazine from my purse and begin to read. A few minutes later, a guy in a cap and neon-yellow T-shirt hollers to me from by someone with a deep sense of irony or unbounded optimism. "Present City" would be entirely inaccurate. We're scooting back to Kentucky via Metropolis (about 25 miles northeast of Cairo as the crow fies), wondering if the Illinois city capitalizes on the Superman reference of its name. But we quickly discover the city is full of Supermen. Not only is there a 15-foot-tall Superman on Superman Square, but an army of Supermen and other superheroes — and even a few super villains — walk the streets. In fact, we've arrived in the middle of the town's 35th Superman Festival. Lex Luthor, Batman, and a number of people in T-shirts and shorts line up for celebrity autographs. We decided to follow in Mark Twain's footsteps. billboards weathered to near illegibility faintly touting Cairo's attractions. Once in town, the landscape is blasted, the city empty. In the 1920s, 15,000 people lived here. Now fewer than 3,000 do. Blocks of boarded and decomposing buildings, punctuated by empty lots, make up the downtown. Sometimes a crumbling tile foor — an island of small blue and cream squares and octagons — is all that's left. I lose Joey in the wreckage. He's having a ball. We see one person downtown. He wears red pants and a red shirt and rides a red bicycle. Someone has torn of part of the red metal facade of a small building. Te Gem Teatre's marquee remains, but every window is boarded up. Green boards cover the windows of another four-story building, giving it an almost festive appearance. A foodwall blocks any view of the river — a necessity for any town on the Ohio or Mississippi. In that, Cairo is twice cursed, the lawn that he'll be there in a minute. I fnish the article I was reading. Maybe they have to tidy up, take the underwear of the chandeliers, put the dishes in the sink. I'm fnally ushered in to pay my eight bucks and learn which of the furniture pieces were in the home originally, who is depicted in the oil paintings, and where the marble was shipped from. Te guide has obviously made this recitation many times. He is oblivious to interruption, bulletproof to questions. I tell myself, in the greater scheme of things, who really cares why the Gallaghers left Ohio? I don't need these questions answered. As we wrap up the trip, my guide is a bit more relaxed — or relieved to be fnished. I ask him what he likes about the home or its history. "People think I got it made here, that I just sit around and talk," he says. "I thought it was going to be like that too. It's miles from that." Fleeing Cairo, just outside its limits, we drive through "Future City," named Tis year, Margot Kidder — Lois Lane to Christopher Reeve's Superman — and Michael Rosenbaum, who played Lex Luthor in Smallville, are among the celebrities. We skip the autographs, and I opt instead to pose beside a statue of Noel Neill as Lois Lane; she played opposite George Reeves in the television classic Adventures of Superman. I feel underdressed beside her bronze-padded shoulders. I carry a recorder. She carries a notebook. She's six feet tall. I'm a pipsqueak. Back in Paducah, which serves as our home base for the trip, we head to Market House Square to sample the outdoor dining. Did I mention we have our standard poodle, Phoebe, with us? Once again, we are unable to agree. Joey wants Mexican, and I crave Italian. We take a table in front of Cynthia's Ristorante, where they let us order from two restaurants. Te waitress from Tribeca, the Mexican restaurant next door, takes Joey's order, and I have an incredible meal from 10.13 LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 33