Two weekends ago, I took a drive through Port Arthur with a friend who hadn’t been here in many years. Many landmarks are gone, especially the hospitals. Park Place has been gone for years, and St. Mary’s has recently become a grassy field, but at least they left the flagpole. One thing that is left in this area, between Pioneer Park and the water tower, is a concrete circle that I assume was built to walk on. I don’t know why this circular cement path was constructed, but I remember the nuns from St. Mary’s walking on it. My friend Millie told me that there used to be a building in the center of it; I cannot confirm this.
During the drive, we argued playfully about where the restaurants used to be and whether the spirits burned down the nice house on Sixteenth Street (Gulfway Drive) because Madam Dora lived there. On a side note, I wonder if Madam Dora (Port Arthur) and Madam Pearl (Bridge City) knew each other. I guess it’s all in the cards.
Every once in a blue moon, I read through my DNA report, which seems to change yearly. What’s up with that Ancestry website? Am I not still 24 percent Spaniard? The whole world is 24 percent Spaniard, by the way. The dirty little—I digress. In my family history, years ago, someone wrote that my great-great-grandfather Etienne was from an island that doesn’t exist—Lil Decout in Italy. He was from Corsica, a French island that thinks it’s Italian, and that’s ok with me. His mother was Latvian, which may explain my obsession with the weather. Latvia, I believe, is the home of the European hurricane forecast-model group. I will add that Etienne came to this country in 1868, after you guys got your crap together! (This statement never goes down well when I talk to some groups, but the usual reply is “We still haven’t.”)
I’ve looked into family history, and it is about as messed up as my database, so that fits. I have a family member who is in the census 20 years after he passed. Of course, I’m going to mention some sort of vampire link, or even better, an “I’m from a long line of serial killers; I have no proof because they were good serial killers.” This is why I usually go down the rabbit holes of other families and research everyone else on Ancestry! Maybe this is why my account is so screwed up.
According to Ancestry, I’m related to everyone! I say this in jest, but two of my friends are really related to everyone, at least in Magnolia Cemetery. One, one half of the cemetery; the other, the other half. However, I don’t think they are related to each other. It’s true, but it is a pain being from older families in this area. I guess that’s the difference between knowing something about your history and having it laid out in front of you for everyone to see.
I remember that one of my uncles basically harassed Jack Brooks—a politician—because he was mad at the Veterans Administration (VA). I will ask the veterans reading this, “Who isn’t mad at the VA?” Yep, he went to Mr. Brooks’s office in Washington. Jack didn’t see him, though. I’m glad that my family wasn’t remarkable; this was the only time I felt sorry for a politician. I do have something that my uncle wrote about this event. I may put it out at some point.
My uncle also spoke of his time on the firing range. He frequently spoke of “Maggie’s drawers.” I guess this was because he kept missing his target. That’s all right, though, because he ended up on permanent KP duty. This is the reason he introduced us to SOS. His recipe was ground meat in cream gravy. During the Great War, this was called Save Our Souls or Same Old Slop; in the ’40s, though, they just called it what it was—S**t on a Shingle. I was told that the only people who knew about this delicacy were those in the military or in prison. Regardless of whether this is, I still think it is comfort food, and at my age, I’m thankful that I’m in neither of those sectors.
Well, the emails have started rolling in. Galveston’s 50th Annual Historic Homes Tour is currently looking for volunteers, and I’m already lined up with Bev, “the candy lady,” for Sunday on the first weekend. The house list hasn’t been released yet, but there is a rumor that something special is scheduled for this year. Stay tuned! If you are interested in volunteering for this event or want to learn about all things Galveston, you can click on this link: https://www.galvestonhistory.org/support/volunteer-opportunities.
For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been going down many rabbit holes. I want to put out most of this research in March, for Women’s History Month, but darn, if we hadn’t had to endure a Port Arthur/Hee Haw moment in a county school-superintendent election in 1930. I’ll add the newspaper clipping to the blog. The journey was a somewhat positive ride until politics showed its ugly head. Sorry Jack—at least you wore a cowboy hat!
Until next week. RIP Toby Keith. You know that your friend Wayman (Tisdale) has the stage set, and Barry (White) is in the audience. Time to sing it again. Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up. By the way, we’re not crying for you, we’re crying for us who liked your songs. See you on the other side, Superstar!
Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up:
Toby Keith – Cryin’ For Me (Wayman’s Song) ft. Arthur Thompson, Marcus Miller, Dave Koz
Maggies Drawers:
S.O.S Recipe:
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