School and Community Fall 2022

Celebrating 75 Years of

Bunker Hill D eep in the Missouri Ozarks, in a place so wild and beautiful it was included in America’s first federally protected river system, Bunker Hill Ranch Resort has been a secluded sanctuary for MSTAmembers and their families for seventy-five years. The Missouri State Teachers Association received the gift of 2,080 acres along the Jacks Fork River in what is now the Ozark National Scenic Riverways from a remarkable benefactor, a man of conscience who believed teachers could change the world. When doctors told E. T. Behrens in 1929 that he would die within six months, he packed his bags and headed for a place he had always wanted to live. That place was Shannon County in the Missouri Ozarks, where the 63-year-old bachelor philanthropist, who made his fortune making ETB cigars and publishing labor newspapers, purchased 2,080 acres of wilderness. Against all doctors’ expectations, Behrens spent the next 18 years enjoying the brilliant red oak, shortleaf pine and golden hickory that blanketed the steep hills, fishing in the spring-fed Jacks Fork and meeting the guests of the resort he created and managed on the Property, Bunker Hill Ranch Resort. InMay of 1947, E.T. Behrens had told his friend, George S. Wattles that when he passed, he wanted to leave his property to the public as a recreation center for school teachers. A few weeks later, Behrens wrote out a will giving Bunker Hill to MSTA. Everett Keith, the MSTA Executive Secretary at the time, said of Behrens, “He said the good life for everybody depended on teachers.” In July of that year, Behrens officially deeded Bunker Hill Ranch Resort to MSTA. Teachers and their families have visited the resort for serene getaway trips ever since. Today, some 2,500 guests a year stay in nineteen modern cabins, which can comfortably accommodate up to 110 people. Thanks to the late Jack Clark, who managed the resort for twenty two years, the two-mile private drive is a smooth, tree-lined ribbon of asphalt. The neatly manicured grounds include tennis courts, a miniature golf course, a council ring, and a playground. Current Bunker Hill managers Gregg and Mary Howell supervise a staff of full-time employees and seasonal workers, mostly young people from Summersville and Mountain View, along with excellent country cooks. MSTA still hosts events at Bunker Hill for members to enjoy. The New Professional Training Camp is held every July and welcomes teachers in their first seven years of the profession to connect and unwind within the scenery of the Retreat. Other MSTA events have included a Creative Retreat and past Leadership Conferences. Guests enjoy the wide variety of activities offered at Bunker Hill, including canoeing, ring toss, hiking, swimming in the Jacks Fork River and more. But don’t come expecting to spend time online - there is no wifi or cellular service at the Retreat. This is a welcomed escape for many who want to focus on nature and leave the digital world behind.

The Ghost of Old Cabin Three By Larry McCann Poplar, excerpt from School & Community Magazine 1997

“I was at Bunker Hill for the annual MSTA Executive Board retreat when I met the ghost of Old Cabin Three. Old Cabin Three is the only structure that remains from the days cigar manufacturer E.T. Behrens owned the resort. Located near the main gate, it is smaller than the rest of the cabins but sufficient for two people. I would be rooming with Roger Williams, but he wasn’t expected until late that night. About 1 a.m., I turned off my reading light and drifted off to sleep with the sound of thunder echoing in the distance. I was awakened later by the sound of hard rain beatingon the roof of the cottage. While I watched out the window, a dark pickup stopped on the drive in front of the cabin. The driver remained in the cab, apparently waiting for the storm to die down. The rain continued, and once again, I slept. The sound of footsteps awoke me. The door opened and then shut, and in the darkness, a suitcase was opened and boots dropped on the floor. My newly arrived roommate seemed to be muttering to himself, and I didn’t speak, preferring to let him think I was asleep. He plugged in a radio and tuned it to an old country station that faded in and out. I felt him bump against my bed as he was fumbling with the contents of the suitcase. “Hey! I’m sleeping here,” I thought. Then he lay on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Again, I slept. A bolt of lightning split the air above the resort, and the deafening explosion that accompanied it echoed through the valley. I was jolted frommy sleep. “Man! That was close!” I said to my companion. There was no reply. I couldn’t believe that he had sleptthrough all the noise. I rolled to my side to take a look at this sleeping beauty, and a chill swept across me. The bed was empty, and there was no sign anyone else had been in the room. The suitcase, the radio, the boots - all had vanished! And the stack of linens that had earlier been on the bed sat in the exact spot they had occupied earlier in the evening. There could be no doubt. Nobody had slept in that bed. Two years have come and gone since that experience. I don’t know if it was real or not. Someone suggested that I had experienced lucid dreaming, those visions that seem so real you can reach out and touch the people in them. Now, had my visitor lit a cigar...”

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