Thomas Sayman & Roaring River State Park At Roaring River he made improvements, offered a few lots and cabins for sale and in 1910 stocked the river with trout from a hatchery he built. He later sold an interest to F. J. Bannister, president of Long-Bell Lumber Company, who also made a few improvements, but the partnership did not go well. On April 19, 1922, it was mortgaged to a Kansas City firm, and in 1928, about 2,400 acres of the land were offered in a foreclosure sale on the courthouse steps in Oassville. At that time, the property included a saw mill, Hydro-electric plant, electric laundry, refrigerating plant, ice plant, and Roaring River Camps and Hotel. Bruner’s losses were heavy, the Great Depression was at hand, and he was no longer a young man. He never recouped. He died in 1940. He had lived in times when the sky was the limit—but sometimes that sky could fall. But, as Roaring River was a dream for one unusual man.. .so it now came into the hands of another. The buyer of that 2,400 acre Roaring River development sold on the courthouse steps in 1928 was Dr. Thomas M. Sayman, a St. Louis soap manufacturer. The purchase price was $105,000. He turned it over to the State of Missouri for a park and Roaring River State Park came into being. An oft told story, locally, and uridocumented, says that Dr. Sayman did not buy the property with the intention of giving it to the state, but instead looked forward to owning the beautiful spot. However, his first attempt at trout fishing there was such a dismal failure, that insensed, he deeded the land to the state. At any rate, it was a very generous gift, and one that will be long remembered. He will be remembered too for his eccentricities. For he became a king of legend, always good newspaper copy, as he lived his life with an almost theatrical flair. And he seemingly enjoyed every moment of the limelight. As a character of his age, he had no peer. Sayman was not a physician but he had no qualms about being addressed as Doc. He often expressed his intention to live to celebrate his 125th birthday; and as he seemed to accomplish everything he set out to do, few people who knew him doubted that he would do just that. As it turned out, this one time sheer determination wasn’t enough, and he died quietly in his sleep at the age of 84. But they were 84 years enjoyed to their fullest by a man who lived every day of his life just the way he wished. When only nine years old, Sayman left his Indiana farm, barefooted and overalled, to seek his fortune. When a passerby saw him gazing wistfully in the window of a clothing store at a suit of clothes, and learned that he had left home to make his own way, he bought him the suit. And with the suit gave the boy the advice that he later credited with his success. Whenever in doubt about anything, consult a businessman. At ten, the boy became a member of the circus troupe. At 11 he organized his own medicine show, complete with wagon pulled by his faithful horse Dolly. He beseeched audiences to step closer, please, to buy the soaps, salves, and tonics he peddled with a real flair for showmanship. And he prospered. Traveling through Texas in the years to follow he discovered herbs and came to believe highly in their medicinal value. He claimed to have discovered a secret formula here which he took to Carthage where he set up his first laboratory and office. About 1900 he moved his office to St. Louis and the money continued to roll in. He began to shock staid old St. Louis with his eccentricities and he started to appear frequently in St. Louis courts, usually as the defendant. Most of his 50 some bouts with the police and courts were as a result of his love for flourishing a pistol, and frequently his gun-toting privileges were revoked. But he always triumphed and his pistol was returned. While he was always represented by counsel, Sayman usually took charge of the courtroom himself. He heckled opposing witnesses, gave loud commands to his lawyers, preached to spectators, and generally demoralized the dignity of the law courts where he appeared. When 80 years old, and charged with pointing a threatening pistol, he jumped to his feet, shouting that he hadn’t pointed a pistol at all, but instead had waved it—and proceeded to do just that with a gun he drew from his coat Witnesses, spectators, and lawyers alike scurried for cover. And he enjoyed the whole show. One of the very few legal battles he lost involved a federal charge of misrepresenting three products. He paid his $1000 fine in $1 and $2 bills, and pulled them from a roll one by one. He believed in getting his money’s worth. He lived well, and anything he took a fancy to he had immediately and in large quantities. He confessed to owning 14 cars. When he developed an enthusiasm for Turkish baths, neighbors thought he must be putting in a public bathhouse. In a fancy for birds, he put out wheat shocks in one of St. Louis’ most fashionable suburbs to make the feathered creatures feel at home. On his farm he spent several thousand dollars on duck ponds. His weakness for oriental rugs kept the St. Louis market on the upturn for years. Once when he discovered a sick calf at his farm, he promptly loaded it in his limousine, drove to the nearest drug store, demanded medicine mixed at the soda fountain, and curb service for the ailing animal. One of his sources of pride was his hard head. And he frequently challenged anyone present to butt heads. There were few takers, but once a young husky Negro decided to test his prowess. The pair squared off, charged and the Negro went down in a heap. Sayman walked away thumping his head with his cane to demonstrate its sturdiness. When Dolly, the faithful horse, died, Sayman had the skin stuffed and mounted in his office. Sayman donated large amounts to charities, and gained the unswerving loyalty of his employees, both by his generosity and his understanding and interest in their personal problems. Thomas M. Sayman’s colorful career came to an end with his death in September, 1937. He had made a fortune manufacturing soap and patent medicine and left his family several million dollars. And every resident of this state owes him a debt of gratitude for his gift of Roaring River. A large statue of Dr. Sayman stands in Roaring River State Park.
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 14:33:42 +0000
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