Retracing Our Roots: The West Plains, Bond Dance Hall Explosion

𝙍𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙨 #32

The West Plains, Bond Dance Hall Explosion

Welcome to another stirring episode of Retracing Our Roots. This week, Sammy Raycraft and Vincent Anderson explore one of the greatest tragedies ever to strike the Ozarks.

Before diving into the story of the West Plains dance hall explosion, Vincent addresses a question he's often asked: "Where is Bloody Bucket Hill?" The roots of this tale trace back to Dr. John F. Guenthner, a surgeon who moved to Mountain Home, Arkansas, from Cook County, Illinois, in 1936. In a 1984 interview, Dr. Guenthner recounted the wild and often violent events that took place at Bloody Bucket Hill.

A handful of honky-tonks once stood on the west side of Mountain Home—among them, the infamous "Bloody Bucket" on Highway 62, located on the left as you head toward Cotter.

Run by Mr. and Mrs. Bumps, the speakeasy was known for slinging bottles of cheap wine in a space so cramped that patrons had to turn sideways just to squeeze past one another. Nearly every Saturday night, blood would spill—slashing fights sending wounded customers to Dr. Guenthner’s clinic for stitches.

Then came the night that cemented the Bloody Bucket’s notorious name. Mr. and Mrs. Bumps got into a violent altercation of their own. Mrs. Bumps struck Mr. Bumps with a monkey wrench, killing him. He was pronounced dead at the hospital. The next morning, newspapers across the region blared the unforgettable headline:

“Mrs. Bumps Bumped Off Mr. Bumps!”

After the county went dry again, local businessman Sam Powell bought the property and tore the place down—putting an end to one of the wildest chapters in Mountain Home's backroom history.

In our second and third segments, we cover the West Plains Dance Hall Explosion.

On a Friday night, April 13, 1928, music and laughter filled the Bond Dance Hall in West Plains, Missouri. Located above the Wiser Motor Company garage, the hall was packed with about fifty young people swaying to the band’s final tune, At Sundown. They didn’t know it would be their last.

At 11:05 p.m., a massive explosion erupted from the garage below, reducing the building—and much of East Main Street—to rubble. Flames shot 150 feet into the sky. The blast was felt 26 miles away in Mountain View. Thirty-seven people died instantly, many burned beyond recognition; the toll would eventually rise to thirty-nine. Only nineteen escaped. Of those, just three were women.

Three neighboring buildings collapsed, and windows shattered across the courthouse square. Grief blanketed the town. Funerals filled every church; some bodies were buried in shared coffins, with remains too damaged to identify.

A monument now stands in Oak Lawn Cemetery to honor the dead.

The cause was never proven. A coroner’s jury deliberated for four days but returned a verdict of “unknown.” Theories abound: gasoline fumes, a truck loaded with dynamite, sabotage, even suicide. Some whispered of a cover-up. None of it was conclusive.

In the tragedy’s wake, the people of West Plains rallied with resilience. Rescue efforts, community support, and national headlines turned the small Ozark town into a symbol of both heartbreak and heroism. A ballad, The West Plains Explosion, was recorded by Vernon Dalhart.

Nearly a century later, the explosion remains one of Missouri’s great unsolved mysteries. The site has changed. But the memory lingers—etched in stone, whispered in legend, and preserved in the hearts of those who still ask, “What really happened at the Bond Dance Hall?”

We’re deeply grateful to Rapp’s Barren Brewing Company for their steadfast support of Retracing Our Roots. This is local programming at its finest—bringing our community together through shared history. We couldn’t do it without the generosity of businesses like Rapp’s.

Next time you’re in Mountain Home, be sure to stop by Rapp’s Barren Brewing Company. Shake hands with Russell Tucker and his fantastic crew, and thank them for keeping Ozarks’ history alive.

Sip – Savor – Sojourn – Retracing Our Roots

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