Wedron allegedly owes its name to a sloppy painter.

In the 1870s, train crews with the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad called the section of the line through present-day Wedron, which had a depot and a few homes, the "weed run." So the story goes, the man painting the depot didn't have enough paint, so he eliminated an "e" from "weed run" and messed up the "u," which looked to be an "o." Thus, Wedron — supposedly the only community in the country so named, was born.

However, the streets in Wedron don't have mispelled names, they don't have names at all. What they do have are rural road numbers — East 2153rd Road might pass for Main Street in a larger community. One of the thoroughfares has a difficult-to-drive-that-slow 15-mph speed limit.

The hilly hamlet also doesn't have a mayor, village council or police force; it's not incorporated. It does have a couple of bars, a couple of churches and the Wedron Silica-Fairmount Minerals plant.

The bars and churches might vie for mens' souls, but the plant pays the bills.

The silica facility dominates the community, set along the western bank of the Fox River with other property on both sides of the waterway. With the plant occupying land on both sides of the street that goes through Wedron, a driver could sense they're almost trespassing as they go through; the sand scattered on the street adds to the feeling.

Sand was first mined in Wedron in 1890, for many years the product was used in toothpaste. It's now used in industry. In between, the sand was used for casting ammunition casings during World War II and for the porcelain tiles that protected the exteriors of the early 1980s' space shuttles. Another sort of boom is connected to the plant: a sign at its entrance warns, "Danger: Explosives in Use."

During the war, people from Booger Hollow in Tennessee migrated to Wedron to work at the silica plant, living in "war homes" — houses built for relatively short-term use. Their neck of the woods was called "Boogerville." Some of those folks might remain, but the war homes do not.

The Wedron area's other fame claim lies across the river from the silica plant and in adjacent Rutland Township — the former St. Joseph's Health Resort.

The sanitarium with sulfur springs piped into the basement was a spot for those wishing to dry out, overcome nerves, recover from medical problems or just get away from it all.

All four reasons might have applied to the Chicago mobsters and politicians who hung out there. Lore has it Al Capone visited this La Salle County Shangri-La, but conclusive evidence is elusive. What is not hard to pin down is that the man in Capone's pocket did visit — William "Big Bill" Thompson, who some say was the best mayor money could buy.

His honor made no attempt to hide his presence, what with the fact he had 1,000 Chicago ward workers visit him in December 1930 as he recuperated from surgery. They posed with him in front of the resort for a photograph. Many local residents since have made a hobby of trying to pick Capone out of the smiling faces captured for posterity.

Others say film stars also took the cure at St. Joe's.

The resort opened around 1898 as the Sulphur Lick Springs Hotel; in 1920 a five-story brick building was added and in 1927 the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart took over. In 1941 a church was attached to the buildings and in 1955 the original Sulphur Lick Springs Hotel was rebuilt. The place closed in 1983. The resort sputtered back to life in 1994 when a Chicago minister, living there without heat, said she wanted to turn the buildings into a home for troubled girls; that plan went up in smoke Dec. 18 that year in a fire that gutted the main building.

Rob Dullard, of Morris, bought the property in 2004, since tearing down everything except the the church, where services still can take place, and the gutted 1920 building. Taking the shell of the 1920 building, he tuckpointed the 18-inch brick walls and has almost completely refurbished the interior into 19 condominiums, calling the site River Springs Resort.

Dullard wasn't only about bringing down; he put up a pool house with an inground pool. A park with the Stations of the Cross remains next door. At least two canoe rental businesses are close.

Matt Satre, a real estate broker for the resort, said condos are available from $175,000 to $285,000, but if someone wants to buy the entire property, it's theirs for $3.4 million. Interior work is still ongoing, but three condos are done. The sulfur spring stalls remain in the basement.

A billboard in the resort's yard proclaims, "Luxurious Living Spaces in a Year-Round Recreational Setting. Canoeing, Swimming, Fishing, Ice Skating and Simply Enjoying LIfe!"

A lover of comfort such as Big Bill Thompson would still feel at home.

Another high-flying individual from the Capone era also spent time around Wedron — legendary pilot Charles Lindbergh.

Lucky Lindy was flying air mail when his plane ran out of fuel and he hit the silk over Wedron in September 1926. The DeBolt family, who lived in a house directly east of St. Joseph's, took in the future international celebrity for the night. About eight months later, Lindbergh made his historic flight across the Atlantic Ocean.

The DeBolt home, built in 1901, is now Fox River Bed and Breakfast. Hostess Charlotte Beach in her other life is a registered nurse.

"They come from all over the world," Beach said, listing Australia, Ireland, Sweden, Japan, France and Spain as examples of the origin of guests at the home. She added many learn of the bed and breakfast via the Internet, with many coming through Chicago. Skydive Chicago, which is several miles away, also provides a helping of guests who drive in, rather than parachute in as Lindbergh did.

As Beach pointed out, the past comes full circle in Wedron, as some guests are also "Lindberghers" and "Capone fans," spending a night or two to soak up history.