Highway 13 or Bloody 13 as it’s known stretched from Clinton, MO south to Springfield, MO. It went through the center of small town America, through towns like Bolivar, Humansville, Brighton and Osceola. Weaving it’s way around sharp blind corners over rock covered hills and through densely wooded land. It was treacherous when wet, deadly when misjudged.
I Spent an afternoon on a lonely stretch of old Highway 13, this particular section was the original alignment of Highway 13, before 2005. Some of it still exists today as a reminder of those death defying days.
If I’ve heard it once I’ve heard it a thousand times, “If this house could talk it surely would have a tale.” This house has seen the deaths of many, I personally have seen the destruction, the aftermath of careless drivers. My father owned and operated a wrecker service out of Bolivar and I went on more than one trip out to this area to pick up an overturned car. It usually was after the ambulance had came to retrieve the victims but that didn’t hide the fact the wreck had taken it’s toll. All the while in the distance this house overlooked everything coming and going.
Highway 13 between Springfield and Bolivar was so dangerous for so long that area residents nicknamed it “Bloody 13”.
The northbound half of the divided highway consists of a section of road built in the 1920s. The accident rate along the northbound side is 3 1/2 times higher than on the southbound side, says Bob Edwards, a spokesman for the Missouri Department of Transportation. It was also higher than the statewide rate for similar highways, at the time. he says.
The most dangerous stretch begins just north of Ebenezer, where the north and southbound lanes divide, and ends just north of Slagle, where the lanes merge. That is just south of Bolivar.
“In 1909 some of the men here got jobs cutting railroad ties for the railroad coming in. The ties were cut and slid down the bluff on White River (the bluff we now call the Tie Slide across the road from the Eagle Rock Motel). They were floated down the river to Branson where the ties were sold.
The late 1800’s and early 1900’s were not all hard work and no play. On Saturday nights the local people would take turns having dances and parties at each other’s homes. One Saturday night they would go to John Munsey’s home and do the two-step and then the next Saturday night to Bartolomew Stringer’s house (Vernon and Johnny Stringer’s great-grandfather), which was reported to have 83 people there. Can you imagine that many people in those tiny homes back then?” For the complete article 
I’m sure the brochure would have read: “Your family can enjoy our clean modern pool”. Amazingly it really wasn’t in that bad of shape structurally. I bet the pumps are shot though.
The office walls were completely gone, but they are still serving a continental breakfast after 7:00A.M. in the dining room.
The lobby closes at 9:00 P.M. but if you need anything you can ring the bell at the entrance.
There are rooms on the back of the property if you need privacy and quiet.
We chose to stay on street side so we could overlook the pool and bypassing traffic. 
We got a double but had to call for room service. Out of towels!
We always pack light. It’s just an overnight, I can wear the same pants but I need a change of shirts. Which I forgot but lucky me the previous occupants left one just my size.
Jesus saves, but he didn’t lift the lid. 
A bit of a twist in this story, neighbors told me that the owners/operators of the motel divorced and the two continued to occupy the motel. The man moved from the adjacent house to a room in the motel. Don’t think I could do that, the tires were 225 I need 265. 
You must be logged in to post a comment.