Historic Downtown Poplar Bluff
- Liz
- Aug 4
- 4 min read
Updated: Sep 6
On May 9, 1927, a tornado devastated downtown Poplar Bluff, Missouri. Homes and businesses were destroyed, and 86 human lives were lost. This story is inspired by that event.
“I need two sidecars, one French 75, and a bee’s knees,” Ella said. It was her twentieth trip to the bar in an hour, and her new Oxfords were giving her blisters. She was beginning to understand why this job saw so much turnover, and why her hiring manager didn’t sugarcoat that fact at Ella’s interview.
“I’ll be honest with you, Ella, it’s not for everyone,” was the first thing he told her after describing the job: wear 1920s fashion, take drink orders, and keep the customers happy.
“The pace is grueling. It’s the most popular tourist spot in Historic Downtown Poplar Bluff, and the spirits don’t tire. Every last one of the male ghosts remembers when women weren’t allowed to vote, much less file sexual harassment charges,” he added. “That said, we do give all of our servers complementary protection charms, and we pay an on-call medium to act as a bouncer of sorts. Plus, the money is good. You’ll also be entitled to paid sick time and free mental health care, which I advise all of my employees to take advantage of. This work takes a toll.”
“I can handle it,” Ella replied.
“Oh, and I hope you like jazz.”
“That's all I listen to.”
They shook hands, and after an hour of paperwork, Ella was ready for her first shift.
Waitressing at the haunted speakeasy wasn’t Ella’s first gig in Historic Downtown Poplar Bluff. She’d worked several of the tourist destination’s haunted businesses: she bagged groceries at the haunted grocery store, waited tables at two haunted cafes, cleaned rooms in a handful of haunted hotels, and repaired pumps at the haunted shoe repair shop. Wages varied, but the money was always good and the benefits were decent — they had to be, and everyone in Poplar Bluff knew that.
After the Tornado hit, the sleepy Missouri town could have easily gone the way of so many other communities devastated by natural disasters; but thanks to the dead and those willing to work among them, Historic Downtown Poplar Bluff became a top vacation spot for Southerners and Midwesterners.
“Seems a little less full in here than last night,” the bartender said when he handed Ella the drinks.
“Yeah?” She replied. “Seems pretty full to me, but it’s my first night.”
“Bless your heart. Hang in there, doll, it gets easier.”
Ella smiled, grateful for the words of encouragement. Unbeknownst to any of her employers or co-workers, it wasn’t the higher-than-average wages that drew Ella to working in Historic Downtown Poplar Bluff — it was her desire to locate the spirit of her great-great-aunt Rose Marie. Growing up, Ella’s grandparents, great-aunts, and great-uncles frequently told her stories about Rose Marie, always lamenting that she was young and in love when the twister took her life.
“She was a very private young woman,” they would say, “She didn’t even keep a diary. But it was no secret that she had an active social life, and it’s not difficult to tell when someone’s in love. She was the happiest adult we knew. So much fun to be around.” If she hadn’t planned to meet her lover in Downtown Poplar Bluff that day, Ella’s elders claimed, Rose Marie might have lived to see her nieces and nephews reach adulthood. Beloved as she was, framed photos of Rose Marie hung in each of Ella’s elder’s homes.
Of course, you can’t have a haunted tourist destination without spirits to haunt it, so helping the dead move on was a fire-able offense in Historic Downtown Poplar Bluff. But Ella couldn’t stand the thought of Rose Marie haunting the town’s brick roads for eternity, never connecting with the lover she lost her life to meet with. That’s why, discouraged though it was, Ella was determined to locate her great-great-aunt and help her find peace. If she could just chat with her, Ella thought, surely she could encourage Rose Marie to move on.
“What can I get you, sweetheart,” Ella said, relieved to find her next table seated only one patron.
“Nothing right now, thanks. I’m waiting for a friend,” the young woman replied with a smile.
Ella looked closer — with such low lighting, it was difficult to know for certain, but she was pretty sure she’d just found Rose Marie. If the noses match and she’s wearing that brooch, then it must be her, Ella thought.
“Do you mind if I sit a spell?” Ella asked. “My feet hurt like the Dickens.”
“Not at all, dear. Pull up a chair.”
Ella sat as close to the young woman as she could without invading her personal space, and there was no denying it: she was the spitting image of Rose Marie.
“Tell me more about your friend while we wait,” Ella said. “I’d love to know how y’all met.”
Rose Marie looked down, a grin spreading across her face. “We met at the pool hall. We both had dates — beautiful young men with plenty of dough — but we spent most of our evening chatting over sweet tea while the boys played. She made me laugh until my stomach hurt, such a live wire. And the gams on her!”
Rose Marie’s penchant for privacy suddenly made perfect sense to Ella, and it broke her heart.
“She sounds lovely,” Ella said. “Have you been waiting for her for very long?”
“Longer than I like, but Maggie tends to run late.”
Ella saw empty glasses in the air. One of her tables needed another round.
“Well, I better get back to work. Can I bring you a cup of java while you wait?”
“No thanks, doll. I’ll order when Maggie arrives.”
“Can I come back and sit with you later?”
“Sure, dear. I’m not going anywhere.”
