Mid-Missouri History Associates

12/04/2025

I'll be there. For the first time in years I won't have to worry about being at a wrestling tournament. I'm very much looking forward to this?

12/04/2025

Is there a site or structure in your community in need of saving, preservation, etc.?

On this page, I frequently bring you stories from the past. I love telling them and it's worth noting that many times... I am learning myself. I don't claim an endless supply of historical knowledge.

My posts are a little fewer during the school because I'm fairly busy with my job. So, while between stories, I thought I would try something different - my background is in historic preservation. After my last post about the murder at the old Haas Brewery I got to thinking about those old ruins (on private property) and I wondered...

What sites or structures in your community are in need of saving and preservation? I'd love to hear from my followers about the areas in central Missouri area in need of preservation and care.

Let me know your thoughts! What's out there that needs saving?

11/27/2025

May all of you have a blessed Thanksgiving with friends and family. Thank you for your support, follows, and shares. I truly am blessed and thankful for my fellow history enthusiasts!

11/22/2025

The Murder at Haas’ Brewery: A Reconstruction of the White Case (1864–1865)

By Eric McNeal / Mid-Missouri History Associates

On a humid July night in 1864, as the Civil War ground through its fourth exhausting summer, an aging fisherman known only as White met a violent and mysterious end on the grounds of Haas’ Brewery, a mile west of Boonville. Though he had lived near the town for many years, making his living along the shifting waters of the Missouri River, his murder would slip into shadow—recorded only in brief, fragmentary notices scattered across the newspapers of the time.

A Fisherman Known Only by His Trade

White was a familiar figure about Boonville. He and his son-in-law, a man surnamed Rowden, supported themselves through fishing and hunting, bringing their catch to market each spring and fall. The two men had recently traveled upriver to Providence in Boone County, working the river there. For reasons lost to time, White returned to Boonville alone in mid-July 1864.

With no certain lodging, he sought permission to sleep at Haas’ Brewery, operated by the influential German Haas family. The brewery, like many such businesses in the era, included small frame houses for laborers and transient workers. White bedded down in one of these modest structures—a simple outbuilding separated from the main brewery by a branch of water crossed by a narrow plank bridge.

A Quiet Footstep, a Brief Word, a Gunshot

Sometime between nine and ten o’clock on Sunday night, July 17, 1864, a resident of another small house nearby—a woman identified in the press only as “Mrs. Buch”—heard someone cross the plank bridge toward the little dwelling where White slept. She heard the door open, followed by the low murmur of a few exchanged words.

Then came the fatal sound:
A pistol shot, so faint she described it as scarcely louder than “the bursting of a cap.”

Moments later, she heard the unknown figure re-cross the bridge, retreating into darkness.

At dawn, White was found in his bed, shot through the body at close range, powder burns marking the wound. A Coroner’s jury convened immediately, but their investigation produced nothing beyond what had already been observed. The killer’s identity—and motive—remained entirely unknown.

A Speculative Shadow: Who Was “Mrs. Buch”?

One curious wrinkle lingers in this otherwise stark account. The witness’s name—“Buch”—may be a typesetter’s approximation of one of several similar German surnames common in wartime Boonville.

It is speculative, but circumstantially possible, that she could have been Barbara Back (Bach/Buch/Bock), wife of Philip Peter Back, a cooper and brewer who served in the Boonville Reserve Corps (Home Guards) and fought in the Second Battle of Boonville in 1861 before being discharged for disability. His trade as a cooper, and possible work in local brewing circles, would have placed the Back family within the orbit of the Haas Brewery and the German-American community that sustained it.

There is no direct evidence that Philip and Barbara Back lived on the brewery grounds, nor any document naming Barbara as the witness. But the combination of surname similarity, occupational overlap, and geographic proximity creates a thread of circumstantial possibility—one of the few human links left dangling in this fading tragedy. They would have their own tragedy nearly ten years later when Philip was found murdered outside his own business - but that is a tale for another time.

The Arrest and Trial of Steiner

Months passed before a suspect emerged. A man named Steiner—first name unknown—was eventually apprehended and charged with White’s murder. The surviving newspapers do not explain what tied him to the crime, but by late summer 1865, in the Circuit Court at Boonville, Steiner stood trial.

On Saturday, August 26, 1865, the jury returned a verdict of guilty. Talk circulated that his counsel would seek a new trial based on “additional important testimony,” but no motion succeeded. On September 1, 1865, the court sentenced Steiner to be hanged on Friday, October 20th.

An Act of Desperation in the Boonville Jail

Steiner did not await ex*****on quietly. On the night of September 8, 1865, he set a fire inside his jail cell—using scraps of combustible material, perhaps hoping to suffocate himself, or to escape amid the confusion a fire might create. Another prisoner raised the alarm, and the flames were extinguished before serious damage occurred.

Steiner’s grim attempt failed. The rope still awaited.

A Vanishing Ending

Yet here the trail disintegrates.
Despite searches through every available digital archive, no account of Steiner’s ex*****on has surfaced. No newspaper mentions the hanging. No court record describes his final hours. No obituary marks his burial.

Just as White’s first name, family ties, and origins have eluded discovery, so too has Steiner’s fate slipped into obscurity—leaving only a judge’s sentence and the date of a scheduled ex*****on that may or may not have taken place.

Ghosts in the Records

What remains today is a story assembled from fragments:

➣A murdered fisherman known only by a last name.
➣A widowed or married daughter, likewise known only as Rowden’s wife.
➣A son-in-law whose presence is noted but whose given name is lost.
➣A witness whose identity is blurred by inconsistent German spellings.
➣A killer sentenced to die but whose death was never recorded.

They exist now as ghosts drifting across 150-year-old newspaper columns, flickering names without first names, without graves, without memories—save for the few lines of print that preserve their passing connection to the old brewery west of Boonville.

Some of the remains of that brewery still stand; perhaps the ground still remembers.

The records, however, do not.

Sources

➣Boonville Weekly Monitor, July 23, 1864
➣Weekly California News, July 30, 1864
➣Boonville Daily News and Advertiser, September 2, 1865
➣The Howard Union (Glasgow, MO), September 28, 1865

11/18/2025

Coming soon.

Some know it as the Gantner House. In my most recent series it was the residence of C.E. Chrane and family.

I've been studying the history of the two families that lived there before the Chrane's. I'll post what I find in the coming days.

11/16/2025

It's been a bit since I've done a book review. So - I'll throw this one up there.

I re-listened to this one after rewatching the documentary which was based upon the book. Candice Millard does an excellent job taking us down the road of a forgotten president, the political civil service system and insanity, as well as medical malpractice that killed him.

President James Garfield's life is laid out for all to see - and frankly - to admire. Born in poverty, he rose to the height of American power - even if it was unwillingly. Highly capable and very human, he was a man who was principled and strong-willed. He loved his family. He sought reform - not only in the civil service, but in the trying situation that African Americans found themselves in during the Reconstruction Era of the South. The attempt on his life by an insane office seeker is a drama that a Hollywood Director would have trouble writing.

The work takes us into a world so very different from our own. America is on the cusp of another industrial revolution. Even as men like Alexander Graham Bell demonstrated the capabilities of the telephone, our medical practices lingered far behind the antiseptic practices of Joseph Lister in Britain. The book is certain to note that while Charles Giteau shot Garfield - he might have lived had he just been left along and not repeatedly probed with unsterile fingers and instruments.

This story truly leaves one wondering what might have been had Garfield had a chance to be President. Few men more capable have held the office. He believed the racial tensions in the south were fixable with education - indeed - it seems as though the attempt on his life and subsequent death did a significant amount to reunite the nation in the aftermath of the American Civil War and the failure of Reconstruction.

This is a story worth reading. It is a glimpse into what could have been, and in reality - what we should all strive to be.

11/15/2025

Epilogue: The Story of Curtis E. Chrane

The greatest burden of Superintendent Curtis E. Chrane’s murder fell upon his family.

His widow, Irmah (Griffith) Chrane, whom he had married in 1910 while serving in Windsor, was only forty-two when she lost her husband. Born in Creighton in February 1888 to Dr. Charles Edgar Griffith and Harriet Poague Griffith, Irmah was known throughout every community she lived in for her refinement, education, civic engagement, and musical talent. Her name appeared frequently in society columns as a hostess, a clubwoman, and an accomplished violinist.

Only a month after Curtis’s death, she gave birth to their third child, Curtis E. Chrane Jr.

By 1935, Irmah made the difficult decision to leave Boonville. She and her children moved to Columbia, and by the 1940 census they were living at 1323 Wilson Avenue. Irmah and Curtis Jr. remained in Columbia through the 1950 census before she later relocated to Osage Beach. In her later years she battled breast cancer and heart disease, passing away on October 20, 1969, at Boone County Hospital in Columbia.

The Chrane children each followed distinct paths shaped, in many ways, by the loss of their father.

Barbara Jeane Chrane, the eldest, married Jack Carleton Po***ck in June 1939. The couple eventually settled in Speedway, Marion County, Indiana, where Jack worked as an investigator for the FBI. They raised two daughters, Marsha and Deborah, and spent their later years in Florida. Jack died in 1982; Barbara in 1984. Both rest at Walnut Grove Cemetery in Boonville in the Chrane family plot.

Jacqueline Ann Chrane married Edward Bihr in Columbia in December 1938. They lived for a time in Marshall, where he owned a shoe store, and later returned to Columbia, where he continued managing in the shoe business. Their son, Robert, was born around 1948. Jacqueline completed her degree at the University of Missouri in 1956, later earning a master’s in education. She became a well-respected kindergarten teacher in the Columbia Public Schools and taught in both the University of Missouri Lab School and the university’s early childhood education program. She died in 2006 at the age of 89; Edward had preceded her in 1996. Their son died in 1997. The family is buried in Columbia.

The youngest, Curtis E. Chrane Jr., grew up without ever knowing his father. He attended Hickman High School in Columbia, where he was active in Spanish Club, Library Club, Creative Art Club, Drama Club, and the National Honor Society. His yearbook photos display an active and happy student. After high school he studied drawing and painting at the University of Missouri before enlisting in the Naval Air Corps in 1950. That endeavor did not last. Churtis received a medical discharge for high blood pressure. In 1951 he began display work for Einbender’s Department Store in St. Joseph, and in January 1952 moved to New Orleans in search of new opportunities. He lived in an apartment with two roommates. Only a few weeks later, he died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. His roommates told investigators that he had been despondent throughout the previoius week. He left a note for his mother and a friend back in St. Joseph. Curtis Jr. was brought home to Boonville and buried beside his father. Beneath the smiling images, a young man who grew up without a father had inner struggles that revisited tragedy on the family some twenty years after the death of his father.

In October 1930, roughly one month after Superintendent Chrane’s murder, the Boonville Board of Education announced his successor: Professor L. E. Ziegler.

Ziegler, a respected educator from Maryville, had taught since 1919, rising from teacher to principal, superintendent, and eventually Supervisor of the High School Department at the State Teachers College in Maryville. His appointment in Boonville brought him closer to his wife’s family near Fayette, and his brother, Dr. W. H. Ziegler, already practiced medicine at the Ravenswaay Clinic.

Ziegler assumed leadership of the Boonville Public Schools on November 1, 1930, guiding the system steadily through the next eleven years until he was hired by the Columbia schools. His tenure helped stabilize the district after a period of deep trauma and uncertainty.

The man responsible for the murder, Tony Vriski, spent the remainder of his life in state custody. Though he served many years in the Missouri State Penitentiary, the 1950 federal census recorded him as a prisoner-patient at the State Mental Hospital in Fulton.

Vriski died on May 16, 1966, the official causes listed as coronary thrombosis and syphilitic meningo-encephalitis. His death certificate gives his birthdate as September 17, 1910, and his parents as John Vriski and Anna Cherwriski, yet no verifiable information about his origins has ever surfaced. With no relatives to claim his remains, his body was turned over to the Anatomical Board — a quiet, anonymous end to a life that had brought so much violence and sorrow.

Author's Conclusion

The story of Professor Curtis Chrane is a tragic one, yet also one from which we can draw inspiration. His dedication to his profession—one in which he sought constantly to encourage and expand educational opportunities for students in Windsor and Boonville—is what we should always expect from our public schools. His civic involvement set an example for his students, demonstrating leadership, engagement, and a belief in the value of community life.

Even more importantly, as a family man, he was a devoted husband, father, and son. The creation of a warm home, the close ties he maintained with extended family, and the frequent visits—despite distances—reflected a deep devotion that sustained those he loved during unimaginable hardship. Irmah held the family together through the trial and the aftermath, giving her children stability, purpose, and the means to move forward. Barbara and Jacqueline lived successful, meaningful lives, raising families of their own and building legacies of service, education, and commitment reflective of the values their parents instilled. Though tragedy revisited the family with the untimely death of Curtis Jr., the Chrane family endured, carrying forward both the memory and the quiet strength of the man whose life was cut short but whose influence was felt by his children and continues to echo through the history of Boonville.

The Links to the Curtis E. Chrane Story can be found below:
🔸Part 1: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1AYuKBV53w/
🔸Part 2: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1A3b9htiZ2/
🔸Part 3: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/163UJo998K/
🔸Part 4: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17RSke5LSc/
🔸Part 5: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17mFgSGrhS/
🔸Part 6: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1BUvC6LGJs/

11/15/2025

World War 1 was truly a bridge between the old world and the modern. The pomp and circumstance of monarchy flamed out amid Industrialization and nationalism.

A generation of people were butchered across the world. Landscapes were blasted, many still bearing scars over a century later. Many towns, centuries old in 1914 - lost to history by 1918...the victims of thousands of miles of trenches and billions of artillery shells.

Today, those soldiers are at the edge of history. The World War I generation is no more, yet in my lifetime people who served in that war walked among us. Now they are memory...gone before I understood the importance of talking to them and hearing their words.

But here in Missouri - in Kansas City - we have a wonderful museum dedicated to the memory of that crucial time in history. The First World War is often lost to many in this country because of enormity of the Second World War that followed a generation later. The museum is not focused solely on the American Involvement, but rather conveys an emersive and interactive experience of the entire conflict.

Individuals who pay the entry fee can't help but stand in awe at the weight of the history presented. Every piece on display is a primary source...over 100 years old and a witness to the events that shaped our modern world. The docents friendly, engaging, and able to give age appropriate talks. Exhibits that are graphic are well marked and explained before they are seen - insuring that a younger crowd can still experience the museum even should parents not desire them to see graphic displays.

The tower monument and hall which honors Kansas City's war dead from the Great War is a truly beautiful building and experience - recalling a time of beautiful craftsmanship and national pride and honor.

I took my son with me today - and we will most definitely return again. Anyone with an appreciation for history - particularly of the military type - cannot possibly come away unmoved.

Next year is the centennial of the construction of the tower, and the 250th anniversary of our founding. It will certainly be a sight to see.

11/14/2025

Another article on it.

11/14/2025

Nearly 200 years ago. This would have been something to see.

In the Miltonian's Historical events, listed on November 13 1833:
"Marvelous shooting stars, many feared the world was coming to an end."

See more here - https://susquehannavalley.blogspot.com/2020/11/the-night-stars-fell-november-13-1833.html

11/13/2025

The Story of Professor C.E. Chrane
Part VI – The Trial of Tony Vriski

By the spring of 1931, Boonville had been waiting eight long months. The community that once spoke of Curtis E. Chrane only in sorrow now spoke his name with resolve. The man accused of his murder—Tony Vriski, twenty-one years old, an escapee of the Boonville reform school—would finally stand before a jury.

The Courtroom and the Opening Day

When the trial opened in Jefferson City on May 18, 1931, the courtroom was packed shoulder to shoulder. Reporters from St. Louis, Columbia, and Kansas City filled the press benches. Mrs. Chrane sat quietly near the front, her two young daughters beside her, the baby—born weeks after the murder—cared for by relatives nearby. The Boonville Daily News described her composure as “the kind of courage only duty to the living can command.”

Judge W. S. Stillwell presided. Prosecutor W. D. Semple led the state’s case, assisted by E. C. Lynch, Nile Bagby, and Mike Sevier. The defense, Lionel Davis and James Blair, seemed uneasy; rumors of an insanity plea had come to nothing. The trial would hinge only on the facts.

In his opening statement, Semple told the jury that Chrane had been murdered “while on a mission of joy”—driving to obtain a cradle for the baby soon to be born. The line brought the courtroom to silence. Even hardened deputies turned away to hide their tears.

The State Builds Its Case

Over the next two days, witness after witness retold the horror of September 9, 1930.

Henry Arpe, the gardener working near Sixth and High Streets, testified that he saw Vriski approach Chrane’s car, gun drawn, shouting, “Drive me quick to St. Louis!” Arpe pointed across the courtroom. “That’s the man,” he said firmly.

Joe Schultz, a neighbor of the reform school, followed. He described meeting Vriski that same afternoon:

“That’s a mighty fine gun you’ve got there,” I told him.
He pointed it at me and said, ‘Yes—and you’d better get along.’”

The jurors leaned forward as Schultz, reliving the moment, rose from his seat to demonstrate—until Judge Stillwell gently ordered him to sit.

Then came Colonel Theodore Ziske, superintendent of the Missouri Reformatory, who identified the weapon recovered from the scene as his own revolver, stolen from his home the night before. His testimony gave motive and means, painting a picture of betrayal from a boy he had once trusted.

The state’s most dramatic witnesses appeared on the second day. Wilbert Morrow, a farmhand near the highway, told how he saw the car veer into a clover field and heard the gunfire. And Harry Huckabay, the truck driver who captured Vriski, described the fight that ended the manhunt:

“He jumped on me and began choking and hitting. The car was going fast. He yelled, ‘Here’s where we both go to hell!’ ”

Huckabay struck him twice, dragged him back toward Boonville, and disarmed him at a filling station.

When asked what the prisoner said after being subdued, Huckabay replied calmly, “He said, ‘I did it. I’m in for it.’”

Defense attorney Davis pressed him—why hadn’t he mentioned that earlier? Huckabay’s answer brought laughter and applause from the gallery: “That was my privilege.”

Vriski’s Demeanor

Throughout the testimony, reporters noted that Vriski rarely showed emotion. The Daily News described him as “slouched and sallow, his eyes shifting nervously from juror to juror.” On the final afternoon of testimony he grew pale and blinked rapidly when witnesses pointed him out. The arrogance he had shown in early hearings had vanished.

The prosecution closed on May 20, its final image seared in the jurors’ minds: the cradle Chrane had never brought home, the gun that stole his life, and the students who found and avenged him.

Closing Arguments and Verdict

The defense offered little more than an appeal for mercy. Blair called Vriski “a victim of the slums,” pleading that “he is more a child than a man.” Semple’s rebuttal was sharp and unrelenting: “Justice to society at last demands that you find Tony Vriski guilty of murder in the first degree and assess his punishment at death.”

That night, the jury deliberated barely two hours. At 8:30 p.m. on May 21, they filed back into the silent courtroom. The foreman read the verdict:

“We, the jury, find the defendant, Tony Vriski, guilty of murder in the first degree, and assess his punishment at life imprisonment in the Missouri Penitentiary.”

A low murmur passed through the crowd. Five jurors had favored hanging, seven life imprisonment. In the end, mercy prevailed by a single vote.

Vriski laughed aloud—a short, harsh sound that froze the room. “Better for what?” he sneered to a reporter. “I had about as soon stretch a rope as rot in the pen here at Jeff City.” When Sheriff Prenger ordered him silent, he muttered curses under his breath.

The Boonville Daily News called it “a ghastly, peculiar laugh… as if the strings of his will had suddenly snapped.” For the Chrane family, it was the sound of justice unfinished but finally achieved.

The Attempted Escape

Barely three days later, on the evening of May 23, 1931, Vriski made one last bid for freedom. Guarded at the old Cole County Jail, he waited until a deputy opened the bull-pen door to remove ashes. Then he darted past and disappeared into the alleys of Jefferson City.

Deputy Dave Wright fired a warning shot as Mrs. Prenger, the sheriff’s wife, shouted the alarm. Vriski sprinted toward a creek north of town and vanished for half an hour. He was found crouched in an abandoned garage, hiding in the seat of a wrecked car.

“We ordered him out,” Wright said later. “He raised one hand, then the other, and said, ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t kill me!’ ”

His only weapon was a broken saw blade. Officers believed someone had slipped it to him during the trial. Within an hour, he was back behind bars. The next morning, he was transferred to the Missouri State Penitentiary under maximum security.

Sentencing and the End of the Case

Formal sentencing came in early June 1931. Standing before Judge Stillwell, Vriski was asked if he had anything to say before sentence was pronounced. “The jury said it all,” he muttered. Gone was the smirk, replaced by a dull resignation.

“The heavy locks have clicked behind him,” wrote the Boonville Daily News. “The gates are closed and the stone walls pocketed with machine guns rise before him as a relentless bar to his freedom.”

Officials doubted he would ever be paroled. Sheriff Prenger told reporters, “He’s where he can harm nobody.”

And with that, the case of State of Missouri v. Tony Vriski came to its close. The reform-school boy who had shattered Boonville’s peace was now confined behind the same walls he once fled. For the Chrane family and for the town that loved its superintendent, justice had not come swiftly, but it had come at last.

11/13/2025

The Story of Curtis E. Chrane
Part V – The Road to Justice

The Murder of Superintendent Curtis E. Chrane sent shockwaves through Boonville. In a random act of violence, an escapee from the reform school had completely shattered a quiet community built on faith in its schools and in the man who led them.

For weeks afterward, Boonville and nearby Howard County lived in a fog of grief, curiosity, and anger. By mid-September 1930, the Fayette Democrat Leader reported that the young fugitive Tony Vrski—a twenty-year-old reform-school escapee from St. Louis—had confessed to the killing and been moved under heavy guard to the jail in Fayette, the county where the murder occurred. Crowds gathered outside the courthouse hoping to glimpse the killer; law officers hustled him through a side entrance to prevent mob violence.

A Town’s Fury and a Reform School Under Fire

The Boonville Daily News and the Daily Republican Sun filled their September editions with every new rumor and official statement. Columnists blamed lax discipline at the Missouri Training School for Boys—the state reform school just east of town—for creating the conditions that allowed the escape. Within days, the institution’s administration was under intense scrutiny.

On September 22, the Daily News noted that legislators and educators were “turning a sharp eye toward Boonville,” questioning whether the state’s system had failed. Stories of prior escapes, unsupervised outdoor work crews, and lenient parole policies surfaced, painting a picture of neglect. Governor Henry Caulfield ordered a full review of the reformatory’s practices.

Letters to the editor followed. On September 24, one Boonville resident wrote angrily about the transport of the prisoner, urging that no more “half-hearted” security measures be tolerated. Another letter accused the reform school of “coddling criminals under the name of boys.” Public outrage was so fierce that armed guards were placed around the school grounds at night for weeks.

A Community Still in Mourning

While investigators reconstructed Vrski’s escape route and the events leading to Chrane’s abduction, Boonville itself tried to recover. The Daily News continued to chronicle the quiet heroism of Irma Chrane and her daughters, noting that “Mrs. Chrane remains prostrate with grief, yet composed before her children.” Churches in both Boonville and Fayette held memorial services; a local teachers’ association established a scholarship in the superintendent’s memory.

Meanwhile, prosecutors in Howard County began building their case. Witnesses were questioned throughout September and October: the truck driver Harry Huckabay, whose quick courage ended Vrski’s flight; Joe Schultz and Henry Arpe, who had seen the armed youth near the reformatory; and Colonel Theodore Ziske, the institution’s superintendent, whose revolver had been stolen and used in the killing. By late September, every piece of evidence pointed squarely to Vrski.

Toward Indictment

On October 31, both the Boonville Daily News and the Daily Republican Sun confirmed that a grand jury had handed down an indictment for first-degree murder. The News described Vrski as “apathetic, pale, and seemingly indifferent,” while the Sun called him “a sullen boy-man whose expression betrays not remorse but resentment.” Prosecutor W. D. Semple announced that he would seek the death penalty.

The following week, on November 4, the Daily News published an explanation of the state’s case and the legal process ahead, assuring readers that “every safeguard of justice will be preserved,” even for one so despised. The tone was firm but measured—proof that Missouri’s courts, not a mob, would decide the killer’s fate.

Yet public patience wore thin. By November 7, editorials demanded that the trial be set quickly. “Boonville waits,” wrote one columnist, “not for vengeance, but for order to be restored in the name of law.”

Winter Delays and Docket Troubles

The winter of 1930–31 brought a long stretch of waiting. Cold weather, crowded dockets, and the slow mechanics of transferring a high-profile capital case from Howard County to Cooper County stalled proceedings. For a time in December, the Boonville Daily News noted that Vrski was moved from the Fayette jail to Boonville for safekeeping, then quietly transferred to Jefferson City after rumors of possible mob action. “Authorities are taking no chances,” the paper reported on December 9, describing extra guards and reinforced cell doors.

By mid-January, the case had officially shifted venue to Cooper County, with Judge W. S. Stillwell presiding in Jefferson City. But the court’s docket was jammed—“clogged with Prohibition cases,” the News and Advertiser observed—and the Chrane case was postponed once again. The January 16 edition quoted a court official: “It will be February before the Chrane case can be heard. There is no room on the present docket.”

When the Daily News revisited the story on January 19, it painted an image of anticlimax. “The slayer of Professor Chrane waits,” the headline read, as Vriski sat silent through yet another procedural hearing. His attorneys—Lionel Davis and James Blair—hinted they might explore an insanity plea, but neither had evidence to support it. That indecision would later echo during the trial itself, when Davis abruptly abandoned the idea and offered no mental defense at all.

The Long Wait for Justice

Through January and early February, the Boonville papers kept the community informed with short updates: “Hearing Deferred Again,” “Witness List Expands,” “Sheriff Reinforces Jail Guard.” The Boonville Daily News of January 9 captured one scene vividly: Vrski, thin and pale, shuffling into court between two deputies, eyes downcast, saying nothing. The January 17 issue carried a gentler human note—Mrs. Chrane, after months of mourning, had attended a teachers’ meeting for the first time since her husband’s death. “Her courage is the talk of the town,” one editor wrote.

Finally, the February editions brought movement. On February 16, the Daily News reported that the court had begun ruling on preliminary motions. The defense asked for another delay; the prosecution pressed for a spring trial. Two days later, Judge Stillwell denied most of the defense motions, formally clearing the way for proceedings. On February 20, both the Daily Republican Sun and Boonville Daily News carried the same headline: “Chrane Murder Trial to Open in May.”

The relief was almost palpable. “The people of Boonville ask only that justice be done, and done swiftly,” the Republican Sun wrote. After half a year of grief, rumor, and delay, the road to justice was finally open. The stage was set for one of the most closely watched trials in mid-Missouri’s history.

Up Next - Part VI - The Trial of Tony Vriski; Justice for C.E. Chrane