Monthly Archives: May 2024

Thoughts and Ramblings: Baseball; Tapeworms, Mrs. Sol Elisha, and Memorial Day

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Usually, when I’m spent, I hand the blog over to the reliever Susie, and boy did she give me a rabbit hole to explore this week. I had just finished reading The Wingmen: The Unlikely, Unusual, Unbreakable Friendship between John Glenn and Ted Williams by Adam Lazarus, and I was interested in mentioning Hank Greenberg and other Beaumont Exporters who famously made it to the major league, but then Susie mentioned Mrs. Sol Elisha, and down the rabbit hole I went. I even dragged a couple of other researchers down with me. Although I won’t be getting into the Beaumont Exporters, Hank Greenberg, or the odd couple (Ted and Glenn), I will get into a little bit of the Elishas’ story. Some more will follow next week.

The Elishas lived at 812 Magnolia, right next to Magnolia Park, which opened in 1911. Addresses can change over the years; also, according to Don Streater, a reporter for the Beaumont Enterprise, Piggly Wiggly bought the property in 1939. For researchers, Streater is NOT a source of accuracy. He forgot to mention that in 1929, the Masons bought the property, which was supposed to become a new Masonic temple. Plans change, and to this day, the site is still an empty lot. I’m sure Mrs. Sol Elisha would revel in knowing the absence of people, traffic, and baseballs.

In May 1916, the first lawsuit (for $15,940) was filed against the Beaumont Baseball Club, with Ed Stedman, H. C. Langham, and E. A. Fletcher as defendants. I’m sure some of you can recognize these names. The lawsuit against these property owners and baseball itself did not succeed.

I don’t know if the Elishas’ property was at the back of the home plate and the grandstand (I think it was) or in the homerun derby zone. However, I think they were disgruntled, and they had a good reason to be. Most of their gripes were related to baseballs hitting the roof and windows of their property, as well as other damages. Also, they lived in the same scenario that plagues anyone living near a high school football stadium today—loud, obnoxious fans and lots of people walking down their street. I feel for them, but this article appeared in October 1916. A Quaker Herb Extract advertisement states that this elixir got rid of a 33-foot tapeworm from Mrs. Elisha’s body and that you should buy it for a dollar.

The things you saw in the media in 1916 sucked as much as those in 2024. CHANGE MY MIND!

We’re still looking into the Elishas and this episode in particular, but after all that went on, Mrs. Elisha refused to give the baseballs back, so she accumulated a tub of them. Luckily, Florence did not accumulate the legs, arms, and tonsils thrown out by the new medical clinic built next to her apartments on Magazine Street.

It’s Memorial Day weekend, and I hope you understand what this holiday is all about. It is not about barbecues, beaches, jeeps, and you getting a DWI charge on the peninsula. Memorial Day is a special day that remembers those who died protecting this country and others. Our heroes are scattered in hallowed ground worldwide, and their memory should be preserved.

Here is the origin of the holiday; it goes back to the Civil War. I understand that there were memorials both in the North and the South, but history is mostly written by the victors. Have a safe and happy Memorial Day weekend.

Memorial Day is a time to reflect on peace and remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of our country. It is a time to honor the dead, but many have forgotten its meaning over the years. Most people see this day as the start of summer and shenanigans such as barbeques, beach outings, and vacations. I guess this is acceptable. But we should not forget that those who we remember on this day played a vital role in retaining the freedoms we still enjoy.

Finding the origins of this holiday should be simple, but it’s easy to get bogged down in different timelines and arguments about which city and state first celebrated the day. Everyone agrees that the first ceremony was held during the American Civil War. At the time, both the South and the North observed their fallen by placing flowers on their graves. Warrenton (Virginia), Savannah (Georgia), and Jackson (Mississippi) are a few places where people publicly expressed their love toward the dead during the war. There is even a story about 10,000 people, including recently freed slaves, who held a parade in honor of 257 Union soldiers who had died in captivity in Charleston, South Carolina.

The official National Decoration Day began on May 5, 1868, when General John A. Logan proclaimed that this date would be observed as a holiday nationwide. According to the US Department of Veterans Affairs (USDVA) website, in 1966, Lyndon B. Johnson declared Waterloo, New York, as the birthplace of Memorial Day because people there honored “local veterans who had fought in the Civil War.” I wouldn’t rely on the USDVA for accurate history. Honor a veteran on Veteran’s Day, and honor the dead on Memorial Day.

There have been many accounts on both sides about when this tradition started; I lean toward the Southern ones. It doesn’t matter if it was Southern women placing flowers on the graves of both Confederate and Union soldiers or 10,000 ex-slaves marching to honor Union soldiers in Charleston, South Carolina. Regardless of the precise scenario, these events happened. A brother against brother war is idiotic; moreover, sisters also died in this Schadenfreude war. Let us not forget this human tragedy.

As we remember, so shall we honor.

Until next week!

          Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter :

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Dear Della:

      Rumor is telling it around that some doctors are going to build a clinic right alongside of Stratton’s flat in Magazine street. Della, if this is true I DO hope they won’t throw all amputated legs, arms, tonsils, adenoids and appendixes out of the back window into the front yard of the flat. You know, I’m in debt for that flat. However, that mortgage I have plastered all—over the place may keep this human debris out. Guess I had better ask Miss Pearl Brock—she is the yes-and-no man for the building company.

So with a clinic next door, it looks like I will inherit the burden lifted from Mrs. Sol Elisha’s shoulders when the baseball park was moved. Mrs. Elisha had a tub full of baseballs which had fallen into her yard after inflicting damage to the roof of her home. Well, Della, I’ll promise you not to carry the burden that far. I’m not going to save things in my yard until I get a tubful.

             *                                                   *                                               *

 If I had my druthers, druther build over an old house any time than a new one. How about you? Owen Southwell is rebuilding an old farmhouse out from Atlanta that has a natural stone walk and steps. It’ll have a conference room, too. Owen told me so himself. What is a conference room, Della? Owen’s place has toadstools in the front yard and four huge redwoods at the front gate will give it its name “The Red Woods.”

Owen is a bachelor, girls. Don’t crowd.

             *                                                   *                                                 *

Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Mapes and Mr. Thompson are paying daily visits to the foot of Pearl street in case their Tyler county farms come washing down. I’d suggest they carry along spears and spear them.

             *                                                    *                                                 *

Della, believe it or not, but I played a return engagement in Brazoria county last Sunday and visited the Hogg place, although the Hoggs didn’t know it.

My understanding is the Governor bought the old Patton plantation just about the time he went out of office. The colonial house is situated right on the banks of Varner’s creek. There’s a big bell hanging above the kitchen door and a playful cousin tugged at the bellrope just to see what would happen, she said. She saw. A dog gave us a wicked look. Ditto caretaker. A swell thing to do on an incog trip, being uninvited and all that.

The live oak trees on the lawn are too wonderful for words and I blush to repeat what one of our party said… that I could have the live oaks but he’d take the oil wells.

I have been told that Governor Hogg very greatly admired trees and that he requested to be buried beneath the spreading branches of a pecan. I’m going on believing, Della, that the great pecan grove at his place had as much to do with his purchase as the prospective oil field did.

In the offing there’s a crumbling red brick something. An aunt said it must be an old sugar house. Somebody else opined that ’twas Governor Hogg’s big outdoor bathtub. We didn’t go close enough to investigate.

              *                                            *                                              *

Speaking about Brazoria county … I’ve had an answer from one of the owners of grandpa’s old place down there about the plantation bell which I aspire to own. He wrote that he was referring my letter to his partner and while not saying so, I rather think he classed it as a nut request.

And he set me straight too on his name. Earley, NOT Easley. Now, how could he blame me with all tha Easleying and Tabering in the papers?

              *                                              *                                              *

A postcard in my mail yesterday was signed informally “Sam,” and gave Cadiz, Spain, as the writer’s next stop. I ran up and down the list of all the Sams I know… Mr. Sam Park, Uncle Sam, Sam Young. Nothing doing. Then I took a look at the postmark and read “Ss. Raleigh.” Sam Waite himself, son of Bob and brother of Bitsie.

Join the navy and see the world, Della.

Sam addressed me as Miss “Francis” Spindletop. Don’t blame Mr. Earley a bit for not letting me have that bell.

                *                                              *                                           *

Now, Della, what do you know about me getting a letter from the Bow and Arrow Man of Woodville. He’s on the warpath. It seems, against the slaughter of magnolias. “I am sorry the automobile manufacturer ever found out that magnolia lumber makes good auto bodies,” he wrote. “The Rolls Royce uses ash for its bodies; so why is ash not good enough for the best American cars? Unless some one comes to the rescue of our magnolias, as Colonel Roosevelt did in the case of California’s royal sequoyas, they are doomed.”

All I can say is if the auto makers do damage to the big magnolia in Mr. Tubb’s yard, I’ll take it as a personal matter.

Just as soon as the flood waters abate, I’m off to keep a watchful eye upon it and also visit the Bow and Arrow Man’s archery shop just across the canyon from the grammar school because he promises to show me the finest beech tree in Woodville under which he has his summer work bench, but I notice doesn’t promise to teach me to arch.

              *                                                *                                              *

Texas history furnishes two dramas with marvelous possibilities for the screen, according to D. W. Griffith. These are the life of Sam Houston and the battle of San Jacinto. No, three, Della. Mr. Griffith’s attention must be called to the Battle of Montauk Point.

              *                                                 *                                              *

When Edna Akers moved into her new home, the girls gave her a book shower, How about a ham shower for me?

Yours for more and bigger showers,                                             SUSIE.

                                             So wrote Susie, May 19, 1929

                                             Until next week!

About Florence Stratton, aka Susie Spindletop:

A brief History of Florence Stratton part1
A brief History of Florence Stratton part2

Thoughts and Ramblings: Galveston, Galveston, Galveston!

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Talk about tired. I was truly Madeline Kahn tired last week because of the whole rain and power outage thing. To those wondering, our area experienced the solar eclipse late. On Thursday, May 2, at 8:30 a.m. it was pitch black with a tad of green. Then, the hail came. Many certain words were said to the sky that week. Around midnight, we got the power back and prepared for our journey to Galveston. I left home after another lightning storm on Friday afternoon, but to be honest, I had a great weekend. No worries at all, and luckily, all the people I volunteered with on Sunday (most were from Liberty County) were good and made it home safely without the flooding affecting their homes.

As I said last week, it was a joy to see Kathleen Maca before one of her cemetery tours on Friday evening. Also, I’ve never seen the flowers in the Broadway cemeteries so gorgeous. You should add this to your bucket list—yes, both the cemetery tour and seeing the wildflowers at City Cemetery on Broadway Avenue in May!

On Saturday morning, some of us took a walk on the seawall. Afterward, we were supposed to meet at Denny’s for breakfast before taking the Galveston Historic Homes Tour. I left my Airbnb and proceeded to walk a block and a half to Denny’s. When I arrived, there was no Denny’s; instead, there was an empty lot that looked like a demolition site. I guess I need to listen to the news—unfortunately, Denny’s burned down in October last year. So off we went to IHOP near the San Luis Resort.

We took the whole tour on Saturday. There were 11 stops, and we had done 10 by four o’clock. So, after eating our leftovers from IHOP (the omelets are huge) as lunch/dinner, we headed to our final destination, which was the 1883 William L. Moody Building at 2206 Strand. I nearly skipped this part of the tour, not because it wasn’t worth it, but because of Galveston’s parking. Last year, you could park for free on weekends and after six in the Strand district, but they’ve changed this. They’ve doubled the price from $10 to $20 in the parking lots on weekends. I did find a parking lot that claimed you could park all day for $4. The tech wasn’t up to date, but the parking was glorious! Basically, you shove $4 folded in a slot with your parking-space number. Could it be sketchy? Maybe, but I parked, shoved a fiver in the slot, and proceeded to tour the 1883 William L. Moody Building. The parking lot is located at 1916 Postoffice Street, if you dare. I think you’ll be all right.

After visiting the Moody Building, we set off to photograph the USS Texas. The ship is out of the dry dock and currently doing fine in the water at Gulf Copper Ship Yard. It will be there until they build a permanent home for it near Pier 21. This information is both official and nonofficial because the authorities have not yet stated that Galveston will be the ship’s new home. They’ve just put out a drawing of how great its new home will look, and they have said that it will be built near Pier 21. Another advantage of the place where I parked was picking up my pizza from Mama Theresa’s Flying Pizza, which is located just a few blocks from Pier 21. I got everything I wanted for that fiver and more!

When we left the Strand, a few of us wanted to experience the San Luis Resort. I’ve never been. It is a beautiful resort, and it has security. So, seeing the inside might have been a problem. Our plan was to head to the lobby and, if stopped, say that we were there to meet our friends Ruth and Florence Chambers, who were probably running late. (Shout out to the Heritage Society!)

For a second time that day, we parked at IHOP. We did see the lobby. A wedding was going on outside to the right of us, and all the prom photoshoots were happening to the left. Unfortunately, the concrete gun emplacements of the Hoskins battery were off limits to tourists. Oh well, I’m sure the Chambers sisters would not have cared about looking at gun emplacements, but Ruth may not have liked us using their names as references—I digress!

Volunteer Sunday was cloudy and cooler, but at least it didn’t rain as much as it did north of Interstate 10. As I said, all the other volunteers made it home to dry houses in Liberty County. I always enjoy my stint with these folks and the Candy Lady, and I will continue to help as long as she and our group are there.

Since today’s blog is an all-Galveston blog, I want to give a shout-out to blog reader Don Dickerson, who, on Facebook, recommended the podcast Galveston Unscripted. I will provide a link to the podcast’s rebroadcast about the Great Storm of 1900. This is probably the best roundup of what happened before and after the hurricane that you can listen to in under 23 minutes. If you have more time, then read the book Isaac’s Storm: A Man, a Time, and the Deadliest Hurricane in History by Erik Larson. When I first read it, I was not a fan of the meteorologist Isaac Cline, nor am I today. He probably would have fit in at the Weather Channel today, but this book triggered me so much that I added some of his philosophies to my 2013 book Blood of the Innocent. In the book, my character is meeting someone at the Menard House to purchase land in 1875. I’ll let Lady Annabel Falsworth explain my thoughts.

Mr. Stiles, a friend of the Menard family, was just beginning his journey into the world of land brokering and was grateful to have full use of the magnificent house. He felt the environment provided him with the credibility to do business. It was a jewel compared to his modest “two-roomed shack,” as he called it.

“So, Lady Falsworth, Miss Sterling, I do hope you are enjoying our young up-and-coming city by the sea,” Mr. Stiles said in an attempt to draw attention to the island’s attributes.

“Yes, it is a quaint little place, but I don’t know if I would be comfortable living by the sea,” Annabelle responded.

“What do you mean? Living near the water is the best part!” Mr. Stiles feigned astonishment. “There is always a breeze, and a dip into the ocean is most gratifying on a hot summer’s day.”

Annabelle looked at him in a bemused manner. “True, it is definitely wonderful, but I do feel that this area is plagued with storms, is it not?”

“Hmmm. . . We have our fair share of storms of a tropical nature but nothing to worry about. Those that do the most damage tend not to come this far west.”

Annabelle looked at him in disbelief. “Oh? Well, that is good to know. Unfortunately, your brethren in Indianola cannot say the same, can they?”

“Pardon? Oh yes.” Mr. Stiles remembered almost a month to the day that a strong hurricane had blown into Matagorda Bay, Texas, destroying almost the entire port town of Indianola. “Yes, what a terrible and tragic situation,” Mr. Stiles recalled, “but here in Galveston things like that just don’t happen. I believe God shines down on our glorious little city and protects it.”

Annabelle’s smile grew wider on hearing his words. She looked into his eyes mischievously, “Well, if I may give you some advice regarding the future of your glorious little city. Heed this warning and remember those who perished in Indianola, because it may be you who finds yourself in the eye of destruction with no warning or means of escape.” Annabelle paused for a moment and, noticing Mr. Stiles’ blank stare, continued, “Well, enough of that. I believe we shall continue with other business at hand.” She smiled graciously.

Until next week!

https://www.galvestonunscripted.com

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac%27s_Storm

Thoughts and Ramblings: The 50th Galveston Historic Homes Tour

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The Galveston Historical Foundation’s Historic Homes Tour has finally reached fifty. I’ve been taking and/or volunteering on the tour for at least fourteen years. It is special to me because I love old houses and talking to some of the owners. By simply asking, you can learn about their journeys restoring these precious abodes. They love to talk about their treasures, and I love to listen.

Our journey to Galveston began Friday afternoon, down the beach road to the ferry. After checking into our Airbnb, we headed straight for City Cemetery to photograph the wildflowers. I highly hoped that we could get some good photos this year because of the recent soaking rains, and we were not disappointed! The cemetery looked like a blanket of yellow and red. It was gorgeous. And to make the visit even greater, we bumped into author Kathleen Maca, who was giving one of her cemetery tours that evening. I love these kinds of surprises, especially when they involve good people.

Yesterday, at around two in the morning, a storm popped up and rocked our abode with hail; there was also lightning. So, as you can imagine, everyone was talking about this at our first stop on the tour. The first house was the 1871 Frederick and Minna Martini Cottage at 1217 Market Street. This is where I’ll be today from ten to two in the afternoon, so come by! It is a lovely house and definitely worth a visit. I especially love the office near the front entrance. Note: this was the first of eight homes on the tour where we had to wear booties on our feet. So, keep this in mind. This will slow down the tour, and long lines will occur, but at this house, the lines were fine.

Our next stop was the 1905 Charles Marschner Building at 1914 Mechanic Street. It’s been on the tour before, and the owners did a wonderful job restoring it, but when you are parking in the area, and this also includes the 1883 William L. Moody Building at 2206 Strand Avenue, be aware that parking is NOT FREE on weekends this year. So, it’s probably best to tour these gems later in the day if you also want to shop at the Strand. By the way, the 1883 William L. Moody Building isn’t fully restored yet, but it will be a sight to see and worth a peek.

In my opinion, the 1887 Albert Rakel House at 1808 Postoffice Street is the house to see on this tour, but there were long lines, and booties were worn. This visit had many staircases, but I think it took gold. It also had many restored antique furniture, which looked beautiful. Furthermore, there is a sketch of Old Red, the Ashbel Smith Building at the University of Texas Medical Branch, in the parlor (no one mentioned it, but that’s all right). I get excited when I see things like this.

Next on the list was the 1896 William and Adele Skinner House at 1318 Sealy. This is a wonderful house to tour, and no booties! I volunteered at this house in 2018. It was a day of happiness. I was the gatekeeper on that Sunday of the first week of the tour. I remember the neighbor’s cat being a constant visitor and having lunch while people were waiting to enter the house. He dined on a bird he had caught, which didn’t go down too well with the tourists. I talked to the homeowner next door, and he mentioned that the cat loved to hang out at the church across the street and tour the neighborhood. The next year, we were visiting a home in the same area, and he showed up. I have to admit the animal loves the social life. Unfortunately, the neighbor’s cat was a no-show this year, but I’m sure he was catting around somewhere. Check out the birdhouse in the parlor and the stained glass, and enjoy the air conditioning.

The 1928 Sally Trueheart Williams House at 1616 Broadway had long lines all day. It’s a beautiful house and worth the wait, but booties and no shade create a problem.

The 1888 Alphonse Kenison House at 1720 Avenue K was a gem—no booties, no lines, and just a pleasure to tour. They even had what I call a “ringy thing” attached to the door—it rings when you turn it (others call it a doorbell). I also loved the porch.

There were no lines at the 1859 John Henry Moser Cottage at 1208 Twenty-Fifth Street. We toured it after lunch, so there was less traffic in the area, as well as near the other houses on Avenues P and Q. But let’s not dismiss these properties as places not to see. They were superb additions to the tour.

The 1891 Christian Wolfer Tenant Cottage at 3101 Avenue Q is a nice house. My only beef with it is the photo of the Mexican terrorist Marcos on the wall. I first visited this Green Revival house in 2012, I thought it was nice, and they kept promoting its Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design credentials. This year is much of the same. It’s a short tour, and booties were worn.

The 1839 Samuel May and Sarah Scott Williams House at 3601 Avenue P was interesting because it is the second oldest house in Galveston. Its story is worth your short wait in a shaded, short line. To be honest, as a volunteer on the tour, I can say that this house was made to be included. Perfect shade and the perfect gate for traffic. Stop by the Galveston Historical Foundation’s temporary shop to pick up some of their wares.

The 1929 Edward and Katherine Randall House at 3502 Avenue P is in the process of being restored. This structure is massive. I hope to see this one finished on a future tour.

Well, that’s it. I hope you enjoy the fiftieth anniversary of the Historic Homes Tour in Galveston.