Rough Landings

Albert Ransburgh is second from the right on the front row.

Albert Ransburgh served as sheriff of New Madrid County from 1941 through 1944. He was a big man, well respected, and patient -- to a point.

His sister, Virginia Recker, recalls one time when a magazine salesman visited her mother at their home. The salesman was working very hard to sell Mrs. Ransburgh some magazines. Albert was sitting in an adjoining room, trying not to interfere with his mother's business. Mrs. Ransburgh was not interested in any of the magazines and kept telling the salesman so.

"I don't want any of your magazines," she kept saying.

But the salesman would not take no for an answer and continued his pitch.

Finally, Albert had heard enough. He walked into the room and politely told the salesman, "She said she doesn't want any of your magazines, so you need to leave."

The salesman looked back at Albert, "You and what army are going to make me leave?"

The time for being polite for Albert had ended and he charged toward the salesmen. Out the front door the pair went. Albert chased him around the house and finally caught him at the front gate and physically threw him through the gate and off the property.

The sheriff's office was located on the second floor of the Courthouse. Albert had a daily habit when in the office to walk back up Main Street to his home at lunch time and take a nap. He would remove his suit coat, shirt, tie and pants before lying down in his underwear for his daily rest.

One day he was disturbed from his noon-time siesta by a loud buzzing noise.

He looked out the window and soon discovered its source. Across the street on the school grounds there was a man flying a model airplane. If you've ever heard a model airplane engine, you are familiar with the high-pitched noise they make. It's as nagging as a mosquito buzzing in your ear -- and very loud.

Albert dressed and walked across the street where Buddy Unsel was flying the model plane. The plane was tethered on a control line and Buddy stood watching and guiding the plane around and around.

Albert politely told Buddy that he took a nap everyday and noon and not to fly the plane during the noon hour while he slept.

For Albert, there were several days of quiet solitude until Unsel flew his plane again during the noon hour. This time Albert didn't bother to dress before he walked across the street.

Unsel was so engrossed in flying his plane he never saw Albert.

"Boom!" The plane exploded and fell to the ground.

There stood Albert in his underwear, knee socks and garters--with his shotgun. The plane lay in a smoldering heap on the ground, still tethered to Unsel's controls.

"I told you not to fly that thing while I was taking my nap," he said to Unsel. Albert broke the shotgun open and ejected the shell and walked back across the street with the shotgun over his shoulder to finish his nap.

Patience has its limits.