It’s finally upon us. The 50th Annual Galveston Historic Homes Tours is here, and the Galveston Historical Foundation, along with its many volunteers, will be there to guide you, inform you, and hopefully educate you on these precious structures, but please note that there will be delays, long lines, and booties at some of the homes. Which ones, I have no idea, but I’ll definitely get into that on Sunday.
People tend to take this tour in different ways, and I want to help you as much as possible so you can have a wonderful time visiting these treasures. First off, buy your tickets online. Keep them on your phone and/or print them. This should make it easy for you to pick up your tour book/ticket when you are at your first house. It shouldn’t be a secret that credit card machines, and the many gremlins inside their wires, like to screw with this technology. Most of the time it works, but I’ve volunteered for 10 years, so… Also, cash for tickets will be taken, but there will be no cash boxes, so we cannot give change. Keep this in mind. This is a new arrangement, so any disgruntled persons should contact the Galveston Historical Foundation. As a volunteer, I will quote Sgt. Oddball on this: “Don’t hit me with them negative waves.” My animal spirit, Yukari Akiyama (秋山 優花里), backs me up on this.
When taking the Historic Homes Tour, you should have a plan.
1. Each ticket is valid for one visit to every house on both weekends. If you can go both weekends, taking the tour with family and friends is a great experience. However, if you only have one weekend or even only one day, then it is better to take the tour with no more than three people. Long lines can be an obstacle. One year, I took the opening-day tour solo, and there was a point when I passed in front of 14 people because they only had enough room for one more person in the group.
2. Some of the houses are in the same neighborhood, so have a plan to park centrally. You will be able to walk to multiple places without wasting time looking for a parking spot for the various destinations.
3. NO HEELS! I should have put this up top. This is the one thing I’ve never understood. Why would someone wear heels on a home tour that involves walking upstairs and on lovely restored floors? If you do wear heels, you’ll end up walking through some stranger’s house shoeless. There was an instance when a homeowner had their beautiful restored floor damaged by someone who chose not to wear comfortable shoes. The money raised by the tour paid for the floor to be restored again.
4. Booties! Speaking of shoes, it is always inevitable to have one house on the tour that doesn’t want you prancing around in heels or people walking on their newly restored floors. I get it, restoration is expensive! But then why have your home on the tour? Anyway, I digress. This will undoubtedly slow down the people taking the tour. So, you may have to wait some time.
5. It may be better to visit popular homes, such as the cover house, at the beginning of the day, during lunchtime, or close to the last tour (six in the afternoon). I’ve found that these times have fewer lines.
6. Volunteers. Most of the people who check your ticket, sell you the excellent wares that the Galveston Historical Foundation offers, and are stationed throughout the properties are volunteers. This means they are not getting paid. The white shirt–black pants army is there to keep the tour rolling and help you visit these beautiful homes. I say this because when you find yourself in a line, know that most of these people are doing the best they can to give you a great experience.
7. Visit the Old City Cemetery! The wildflowers are lovely and a great photo opportunity for photographers.
8. Make sure to look for the cemetery tours hosted by Kathleen Maca. They sell out fast! The reason is that she is a great storyteller and has written several books on Broadway’s prominent cemetery.
Before I get into this week’s blog, I want to give much credit to my good friend Mr. Don Smart. I’m sure his wife, Darlene (another awesome person in our historical-preservation crew), would agree with me that he goes above and beyond in his research and that he is constantly there if an organization needs a volunteer. Actually, both Don and Darlene are two treasures when it comes to preserving and teaching history!
Last week, during our Lincoln Rest Cemetery cleanup day, Don handed me a DVD of the Texas Historical Commission marker dedication at the World War II prisoner of war (POW) camp in China, Texas, that he filmed in 2000. A while back, he told me that he had footage of the dedication and the person I wanted to see. The person was Hans Keiling, a German tank commander who immigrated to Port Arthur. I posted his story back in 2022, and I will add it to this blog, but there was more information about his journey to Southeast Texas in the video. The footage also mentions letters written by relatives a some who were incarcerated at the China camp and even those who were young when the camp was established and who got to know the prisoners. This was a great video, and I thank Mr. Smart for always bringing these things to light; without his journey into history, a lot would be lost to time. For example, there would have been no video of the marker dedication. I will add that we also wouldn’t know the story of Wong Shu, who we believe is the person who lies under the Chinese stone on the tree line near the bayou at Magnolia Cemetery. It was Mr. Smart’s research on the Beaumont Enterprise that gave us Wong Shu’s story. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog.
Getting back to Hans Keiling and the POW camp dedication, there were three camps in this area—one in Orange County, one in China, and one in Tyrrell Park in Beaumont.
By 1943, the war and its effects had been felt by people throughout the world. This was also true for our brave men and women here in Southeast Texas. Without hesitation, they answered the call of duty on three levels, doing their part in both the Pacific and European theaters as well as on the manufacturing front. Sacrifice and effort were given freely in support of the cause. Because of the need for wartime laborers, other sectors, such as timber and agriculture, suffered.
At the time, the number of German and Italian POWs was increasing, especially in North Africa. The surrender of 150,000 soldiers of General Rommel’s Afrika Korps resulted in their transfer to the United States where they remained incarcerated until the end of the war.
The Geneva Convention of 1929 required that POWs be located in a similar climate to that in which they were captured. This made Texas the ideal place for the Afrika Korps prisoners. At the time, Texas had twice as many POW camps than any other US state. In August 1943, there were 12 main camps, but by June 1944, there were 33. The need to house, feed, and care for these POWs was enormous, but Texas embraced the challenge.
In Southeast and East Texas, the arrival of (mostly German) POWs couldn’t have come at a better time. Smaller camps were erected throughout the region to aid timber and rice farmers. As I stated earlier, three sites—China, Tyrrell Park in Beaumont, and Orange County (off Womack Road)—housed prisoners who worked on the rice farms under the Texas Extension Service of the Texas Agriculture and Mechanical University.
During the camps’ existence, there were escape attempts. This was a significant problem for the sites near the Mexican border, but for the most part, the prisoners spent their time incarcerated without incident. And now for Mr. Keiling’s story.
Hans Max Keiling immigrated from Germany in 1956. His story should be a movie, as he is one of those immigrants who loved this country for its freedom.
Hans was from Frankfurt an der Oder, a German town on the Oder River, near the Polish border. He was drafted into the German army and became a master sergeant and a tank commander at 23. In a few newspaper articles, he stated he only fought the Russians (the Soviets) and never faced the Americans. From what I know of the Russian front, it was a logistic nightmare during which everyone waited for Der Failüre to see how many soldiers would die in order to hold at all costs some land they shouldn’t have taken in the first place. Keiling did his duty, but when the Germans surrendered, he didn’t want to surrender to the Soviet Army because he would have been executed. He stayed in an American camp for two days. However, he was turned over to the Soviets because of an agreement the Americans had with them to transfer prisoners who fought against either army. So, Keiling was handed to the Soviets, but without his uniform that showed he was an SS tank commander. He was put in a labor camp near Stalingrad, where he spent three and a half years working in a coal mine 14 hours a day.
In 1948, some of the POWs who had special training were sent to East Germany to train “police forces.” Keiling said he had to choose between staying in the coal mine, where he could perish any day, and going to East Germany. He chose the latter, signing an agreement under pressure from the KGB.
Keiling became a special-weapons training officer at the “police academy,” but he soon “found out that this training had nothing to do with police work.” Germany was secretly working to establish a new army, although prohibited from doing so under its terms of surrender.
Still, Keiling said he had no choice in the matter. One night in 1950, while walking to the post office, he was kidnapped by two KGB officers and was jailed for six months, during which he received monthly “hearings.” He was then sentenced to 10 years in a slave-labor camp. He was sent to a coal mine in Vorkuta, Siberia, 80 miles above the Arctic Circle. Each day, he marched three miles from the barracks to the coal mine, with the temperature usually around 45 degrees below zero. He was released when Stalin died in March 1953, but he remained in custody in the USSR. While being transported back to East Germany, he escaped to West Berlin.
In 1954, he settled in West Germany, where he met the niece of Bruno Shulz, the man who founded Gulfport Shipyard in Port Arthur. Keiling was finally able to emigrate from Germany in 1956. He moved to Texas and worked for Shulz, managing a trailer park he owned in Kerrville and working on his ranch in Comfort. It was in Texas that Keiling learned to speak English, in part from television. Keiling worked for Schulz until the latter’s death in 1981. Then, he moved to Port Arthur, where he worked as a security guard until 1984. Afterward, he moved to Temple and back to Port Arthur.
Hans passed in 2008, and he currently rests in Magnolia Cemetery in Beaumont, near fallen Beaumont police officer Paul Hulsey, who ended his watch in March 1988. This is another tale from that hallowed ground I may get into someday.
This week may be short and sweet because my granddaughter, Erzsébet, is running rampant in my office. I guess I should have nicknamed her Erwin, as in Erwin Rommel, instead of Erzsébet, because the blitzkrieg is strong with this two-and-a-half-year-old. I will also admit that her sword skills (with a plastic knife) have improved thanks to her father (a marine) and that her banzai charges have also gotten better (thanks to me) since her last visit—but I digress!
Yesterday, a few of us at the Jefferson County Historical Commission (JCHC) started a project that was a long time in the making. Before I get into our plans, I will tell you a little bit of the history of what I will call the Lincoln Rest Cemetery Project.
Back in 2012, when I joined the JCHC, I learned of an abandoned cemetery on Labelle Road. The then cemetery chair said in a meeting that she tried to enter the grounds, but the trees and the underbrush were too thick to penetrate. So here I go, a couple of weeks later, armed with a line trimmer, a hedge trimmer, and loppers. It took me two hours to make it to the first crypt, but it was the beginning of a twelve-year (and counting) journey. That day, I discovered that some of the crypts were broken. I found out later that a group of teenagers from Beaumont vandalized this cemetery in 1967. This was the first detail I learned of the cemetery, but why did it become abandoned?
Initially, we called this the Broussard Cemetery, but after doing some research, we realized that it was the Lincoln Rest Cemetery, a burial site for low-income people used between 1930 and 1950. It has been abandoned ever since. The county did a cleanup a few times through the years, but there is no overseer of this hallowed ground. The last cleanup was in 2015, and they did a great job clearing three acres of what is an eleven-acre cemetery. At the time, the public was watching. They saw a crew working in an old cemetery and blue tarps put down over the damaged and broken crypts. So, some of you called KBMT News, saying that there were people removing bodies. They weren’t, but KBMT came out and discovered the rub of the situation.
One great thing from this episode was that a man named Cleveland Dyer, a World War II navy veteran, saw the KBMT News broadcast and contacted the program because his dad was buried in the cemetery. He was ninety-seven years old at the time and had been trying to clean around his father’s crypt through the years. In 2015, he visited the cleared cemetery, pointed out his father’s crypt, and made sure we knew about it.
One problem we’ve had with identifying the crypts and graves is that we have a map of the cemetery but no names, and since this is an abandoned burial ground with no headstones, we have no information on its residents. We found one headstone in the three acres that were cleared, and it belonged to Uncle Ed Jones, who died in 1930. I would assume that one of the workers laid the stone on Mr. Dyer’s crypt during the cleanup, and yes, we thought that was where Mr. Jones was buried, but thanks to Cleveland Dyer, we now know that this is not the case. Also, we found the base of a headstone that is the perfect size for Mr. Jones’s tombstone, so that was also a win.
Since the 2015 cleanup, we’ve had floods, COVID-19, and many other issues that have meant this cemetery hasn’t been cared for as it should, but there is hope. A few individuals seem to want this hallowed ground cared for. Cleveland Dyer passed in 2018, and I have the recording of the oral-history interview we did with him the day he set foot in the cleared cemetery where his father is interred. When you hear his voice, you can feel his determination to keep his father’s resting place tidy.
We began cleaning the cemetery on Saturday; we mowed the trails to the crypts and got rid of some of the brush around them. We are not done—by any means—but it’s baby steps in a major project. If you would like to get involved and volunteer on this project, email me at rediscovingsetx@gmail.com
I hope everyone got a peek at the solar eclipse on Monday. It was cloudy here, so there was a filter effect, and you could actually get a photo or two from a regular camera. I took a few cell phone photos. I’m not that into photographing the sun. In contrast, I will go to great lengths to get a shot of a lunar eclipse. I have a few on my Flickr page. I’ll leave the link to it at the bottom of the blog.
For the past 12 months, I’ve been going through some things I’ve collected over the years, and I feel that some of this stuff needs a home now. Other things, such as the regional history books, need an exit plan—my exit plan, to be blunt. I have a considerable number of books on the history of Southeast Texas (SETX), and although most of them do not have monetary value, the references they contain are priceless for researchers, and they eventually will need homes.
My research on SETX history and my twelve years of researching Florence Stratton are in good hands. This data shouldn’t be lost because it is currently held by multiple people and a few organizations. History should be available to everyone; it should not be locked up! For the most part, this blog and its Facebook page have sought to uncover little-known SETX stories and facts. I’ve tried to show the glory of these stories because I think that they are as good as any well-promoted celebrity in our area who has a billboard dedicated to them stating “X lives in our museum.”
On a side note, I know a celebrity who doesn’t live in a museum, although part of her is in a genie lamp interred in one. That would be Scarlet O’Hara’s younger sister, and she is as awesome as the museum. I’ll leave the links at the bottom of the blog, and I will state that the Museum of the Gulf Coast is a top-notch museum, which you must visit!
Not to cause alarm, but those weather people are getting a bit giddy. No, not the ghost-hunting weather people in our area, which I wrote about in October, but those folks who think that weather forecasting should always be dramatic. Hell, they even name snowstorms now! Apparently, we are supposed to run out of names for tropical storms during this season. If that’s the case, then I hope they add phi, slama, and jama from the Latin alphabet (a couple of these characters may or may not be in the Latin alphabet). A friend at the University of Houston suggested that I recommend these names. Sometimes, I question her input concerning facts.
Honestly, I do believe that if I ever see Jim Cantore in my area, I will run like hell. He has a bit more cred than anyone at WeatherNation. I only know about this channel because I had Dish during Hurricane Laura, and they were reporting “from Lake Charles, Texas.” It’s not that I put the Weather Channel on a pedestal, but WeatherNation is its Dollar Tree version, if you see what I mean.
The 50th anniversary of the Galveston Historic Homes Tour is a few weeks away, and I acknowledge that I am a bit dizzy because of this tour. I kind of know where some of the ghosts are hiding, but they will not be on the tour, and as volunteers, we do not talk about such things. If you want to talk about such things, you can hit me up while I’m standing in the line on Saturday, May 4, as I will be taking the tour. Alternatively, you can ask the expert, Kathleen Maca, and take one of her tours. Whether it’s a Galveston cemetery tour or learning about ghosts on the strand, she is the best when it comes to Galveston history and those stories you can’t find anywhere else. I’ll leave a link to her tour schedule.
Today, I smelled summer, or at least I smelled May. The ligustrums are beginning to bloom, which is lovely for me but a death knell for those of you with allergies. I refuse to quote Lynyrd Skynyrd, but “Ooh, that smell!” Growing up, I loved the smell of ligustrums in the morning, at noon, and during the night. Unfortunately, one of my siblings is not too keen on this hedge, and she’s a step away from the ER if she goes near it. I’ll just state that I love ligustrums, but it’s bad when you invite people over for a garden party and the heads of half of your peeps explode.
Most people know that I don’t have garden parties, and if I did, I would have cetirizine as an appetizer.
Since it’s the 50th anniversary of the Galveston Historic Homes Tour, I will insert a few additions to this blog from the early days. Looking back, I’ve blogged, promoted, and taken the tour since 2012. I love the tour, and I treasure the Candy Lady, whom I volunteer with. I will also state that the homes are haunted. As far as the Galveston Historical Foundation goes, I’ll give them a positive nod and say that they have rid themselves of the parasites who used to run what was a dog-and-pony show. The tour is now a decent event to visit and volunteer for. I hope to see you on the tour on May 4 and at the 1871 Frederick and Minna Martini Cottage on 1217 Market Street on Cinco De Mayo!
Last week was the fifty-third anniversary of the SS Texaco Oklahoma sinking. Obviously, the Oklahoma was a Texaco tanker. It sunk off Cape Hatteras in high seas on its way from Port Arthur to Boston. I’ll leave a few links at the bottom of this blog. Many of the crew who perished were from Port Arthur and nearby communities. Thanks to Fr. Sinclair Oubre for keeping their stories alive and to the Port Arthur International Seafarers’ Center for being a lighthouse for mariners who are in port and want to go shopping and spend money locally. Unlike other independent taxi services, they transport the crews without charging hefty fees. Ten or fifteen dollars is a lot better than eighty or one hundred. What say you?
There is another anniversary coming up, and I know this because a few years ago, I was walking the grounds of Greenlawn Cemetery in Groves and came across a tribute memorial stone. (Apparently, I do this a lot. I can’t enter a cemetery and not find something that catches my eye.) The stone in question is for the Gulf Refining Company employees who lost their lives in the Gulf of Venezuela fire. This tanker was a Gulf ship docked in Port Arthur in 1926. On the morning of April 11, at about three in the morning, there was a bit of a problem.
Just before the explosion on the Venezuela Sunday morning, which cost the lives of 27, the last tank being filled overflowed on the deck, [as] established this afternoon in the testimony of L. W. Williams, night dock foreman at the Gulf refinery, and L. W. McFaddin, dockman, both on duty at the time.
I’ll leave some photos of the newspaper articles. This was certainly a tragedy on a big scale. It reminds me of what happened to the tugboat Chief in November 1936. My great-uncle was employed at the Magnolia Refinery as a fireman on that tugboat and was waiting at the Atreco docks (the Total docks nowadays) for a tanker to arrive to bring to Beaumont. The Chief was a wooden tug, probably built in 1893, so it was not equipped with the best 1936 technology. I guess it wouldn’t have mattered because someone turned on the gasoline hose and the fuel spewed onto the tug and spilled into the engine room where my uncle and the cook, Paul Harris, were.
In the end, my uncle drowned, so he must have got out of the engine room to jump in the water. I have all the newspaper articles about the incident and what happened later. I will not go through all the family stuff, but I will say that when I was inquiring about my uncle’s death certificate, I discovered that a client of mine owned the house he lived in back in 1936, and I’ve been working there occasionally for the past twenty years or so. I’ll leave a link about the tugboat Chief as well.
Since this has organically become a maritime blog, I want to make an observation on the tragedy that happened on March 26 in Maryland. To those not in the know, the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsed after the container ship MV Dali lost power and hit one of its piers. The bridge went down like a house of cards, leaving a major international port and four military ships trapped for who knows how long. My observation is as follows: Why in the hell didn’t they put concrete pilings (dolphins) next to the structure? At first glance, I didn’t even see the dolphins near the piers—because there aren’t any. Oh well, I’m in Texas.
The Martin Luther King Bridge as well as the Rainbow and Veterans Memorial Bridges have them. You would have to take them out strategically. I’m sure the Texas Department of Transportation is on the ball when it comes to the Houston ship channel (gasp).
Thanks to Sam Bronson Cooper, U.S. congressman and father of Willie Cooper Hobby, the Port of Beaumont is a thing and has grown into the fourth busiest port in the United States; it is also a military hub. Things happen, including the Eagle Otome in January 2010. It lost power and hit a barge just after sailing under the Martin Luther King Bridge. I especially remember this because I spent the next day working on Pleasure Island, smelling crude oil in the northerly winds after a cold front moved in. I will spare you of my time working for the Corp of Engineers.
To those ready to see the partial solar eclipse in this area and to those paying big money to have a great experience seeing it in central Texas: good luck and Godspeed. According to all the Aggie weather peeps, it will be raining. If it is raining, I have a few lunar eclipse photos. I always enjoy lunar eclipses, or maybe it’s just the Pink Floyd music! Also, if you’re in a location where you can see the partial eclipse but have no glasses, just look down at the ground. Whatever the shape of the sun, you can see it under a tree. The shadow of the leaves forms the shape of the eclipse. Prove me wrong!
There’s a new marker in Martin J. Popeye Holmes Park in front of the sub-courthouse. It was installed and dedicated last Saturday by the African American Cultural Society and the Middle Passage Ceremonies and Port Markers Project. The marker states that its purpose is to “Commemorating the Lives of African Ancestors Who Perished During the Middle Passage and Those Who Survived and Were Transported Through Sabine Pass, Texas” (1817–1837).
Seeing the wording of the marker makes more sense to me now because I heard in November that the organizations wanted to put up a marker in Port Arthur. It makes sense that it was a passage through Sabine Pass because, at that time, there was no Port Arthur, nor any other town or port existing on the northern banks of Lake Sabine. The township of Aurora came later, but it was wiped out by the hurricane of 1886.
To my knowledge, slave traders, such as Jean Lafitte, usually used the land where the city of Prairie View (Bridge City) would develop, and around Deweyville, on the Sabine River. For those not in the know, yes, Jean Lafitte was a slave trader. I guess that changes your search for his treasure—I digress. Note, I’m not a fan of anything French, especially if they’re running slave ships for the Spaniards—my twenty-four percent Spanish ancestry digresses as well.
According to their Facebook page, the Middle Passage Ceremonies and Port Markers Project was supposed to dedicate this marker on December 1, but I’m sure things happen, like markers not being ready at the foundry. I’m not in the know, but it’s up and in a good place to see it. I will add a link to the Port Arthur News article written by Mary Meaux. I also want to add this quote by Gail Pellum, president of the African American Culture Society: “You can’t let [history] go. If you don’t learn from it, you will repeat it and it will not be good on either side.”
As someone interested in many histories, this is the truest quote that you will hear. This is why it is important to remember all histories and learn from the past, as there are those who will try to repeat it.
The Galveston Historical Foundation finally released the addresses of this year’s 50th Historic Homes Tour. I, for one, am ecstatic to see a home on the tour that I volunteered at in 2018. It was the cover house that year, and according to the owner, it’s haunted, but don’t tell the GHF because they don’t like people talking about that—or so I was told a few years ago. It was also the house where the neighbor’s cat used to hang out on Sunday mornings in the nice Catholic church (which looks like a mosque) and then look for dinner. That year, he hung out in the front yard and dined on a bird that he’d caught. I can’t say it was much fun for the lines of people waiting to enter the house. I saw him the following year on the tour, as there was a house on the tour about a block away. He certainly got around and loved the attention.
All the houses look great, and I’m ready to tour these gems. I am also ready to volunteer! I will be at the 1871 Frederick and Minna Martini Cottage at 1217 Market Street on the first Sunday, so stop by! I hope to see you there. The Galveston Historical Foundation is always looking for volunteers, so if you think you might be interested in volunteering for this tour or other projects they have going on, I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog.
It’s Easter Sunday, and I hope you and your peeps are doing well. As a closer, I’ll let Susie Spindletop finish the blog, as she knows she has to carry me sometimes. Who does that better? Well, Susie, of course!
March 28, 1932
OLD-TIME Easter in Beaumont meant seeing Mrs. Messenger drive in from Rosedale with her buggy filled with dogwood, honeysuckle and palmettoes to trim St. Mark’s church. One year Mrs. Messenger created a sensation by managing to get a calla lilly to bloom in time for Easter.
Dr. Messenger was the rector who held the service here one Sunday and in Orange the next. He swelled his salary by raising fine fruit.
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NOW, Della, did you ever hear of live chickens being party favors? I didn’t either until I learned that Elizabeth Tyrrell gave them away at her Easter party. Ann Page Carey named hers Susie. Thank you, Ann Page.
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Did I tell you that I hear that Lois Cunningham has bought the C. F Graham senior house corner of McFaddin and Fifth? Ruth and I.D. Polk are living there now, but some day I predict Mrs. Cunningham and Lois will move in.
When I first came to Beaumont it was the A.L. Williams home.
March 28, 1937
Easter gives us one diversion. Instead of arguing over which came first, the hen or the egg—we can switch off to the rabbit and the egg!
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Every Easter brings forth a different egg. Just a few years ago everybody speculated on what the minister’s wife was going to wear Sunday, or what tie Mr. Flapjacks would sport. Then came the day of movie stars and they do some strutting for they don’t have to depend on papa or hubby to open up diplomatic relations with the milliner and dress maker.
Take Constance Worthfeatured in “China passage” falls for sport effect with a little Juliet cap of bright colored raffia instead of sports hat with her simple silk, which is belted in braided Raffia.
Remembering the late news from Ethiopia with Ras this and Ras that we should change raffia to raf.
Della, I had to stop here to keep all these dress names from driving me to the tung nut house.
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Today, Easter will be exactly 12 hours and 23 minutes long. You spend 12 hours dolling up to show off 23 minutes.
This Thursday was Florence Stratton’s birthday. She would have been—um, well, that’s not important (she would lie about her age anyway, so we will not spread the facts about her longevity). I will say that she was born in Brazoria County in 1881 to Asa and Lousia Waldman Stratton, and she was educated at Troy Normal College in Troy, Alabama, which is now Troy University. Another tidbit of information that is less known is that she was related, by marriage, to Stephen F. Austin (SFA). We’re kinda going to get into the “I’m My Own Grandpa” scenario, but it is true. Sarah Emily Stratton, the daughter of Florence’s grandfather Major Asa Stratton Sr., married Sam Bryon. Sam’s great-uncle was Stephen F. Austin. So, in a twisted sort of way, this made Florence related to SFA. Thank you, Willie Nelson, for the background music as I write this. Link at the bottom of the blog.
Speaking of Florence, another mystery has been solved thanks to fellow researcher Kate Hambright. Kate noticed that Genealogy Bank, a newspaper archive that most of us use, finally updated its access to the Beaumont Enterprise. The website was missing the years 1912–1919. Now that we can access these years, I’ll do a few searches I’ve meant to do for a long time. One will be on Florence Stratton. The second one will concern Mary Sandell being elected superintendent in 1918. With the third, I want to find more information on the Milk and Ice Fund, which began in 1915. We are certain that it was formed on June 26, 1915, because Kate found the original article stating this.
Organization of the “Save Our Babies” free ice and milk campaign inaugurated by The Journal was perfected this morning. Working in co-operation with the United Charities, The Journal has selected a committee of women, representative of all sections of the city, and it will be the duty of this committee to investigate all cases of suffering babies and children reported, arrange for the distribution of ice and milk by the dealers operating in those sections of the city, and make a report at the end of each month on the number of cases relieved and the exact amount expended for this relief. (Beaumont Enterprise, June 26, 1915)
On a side note, the Genealogy Bank access to these years from the Beaumont Journal has not been updated, but I do see a trip to the Tyrrell Historical Library in my future since I have the actual date of the organization’s formation, which I want to check out on their microfilms. The other charity Florence was involved in, the Empty Stocking Fund, which was formed in 1920, originated from this campaign. You could say the latter morphed into the former. United Charities was also there aiding this campaign. I doubt that Beaumont was the first city to have a milk and ice fund because I have seen relevant articles also in the San Antonio Light from 1915. It is possible that Florence brought the idea to our area as she had ties to San Antonio; she also had unlimited knowledge of and resources in the newspaper business, as well as ties to politicians.
A couple of weeks ago, while going through maps of early Sabine Pass, I rediscovered a photo of the Windsor Hotel that I had originally found in the Jefferson County Historical Commission archives. I also found a copy of a handwritten map and a note from the owner of a property in Port Arthur. Mr. Bossier, who owned a property on Sabine Avenue in Port Arthur, was relocating the wood from the hotel after its demolition to build a structure on his land. The house on Sabine Avenue was located between Gulfway Drive and Lewis Drive. I passed this property many times, and I always thought it was out of place. Now I know why it looked different—it was because of the round arches. Those I’ve spoken to have told me that it was a rental house for years, but now it has been demolished. I do have a photo of it.
For the past few weeks, my inbox has been full of emails about Galveston this week and Galveston that week. Things are afoot in Lafitte’s old hangout. I also noticed more traffic on my blog, Rediscovering SETX. I guess that when you write a post entitled “Visiting the Mansard House,” it gets the attention of other people, not your regulars. Thanks to the Cordrays, Save 1900, and the Mansard House for organizing last week’s event. I’ll be looking forward to their new episodes on Restoring Galveston. I can’t overstate that they did a wonderful job restoring the Mansard House.
More Galveston emails pertained to the 50th Annual Historic Homes Tour. I already have my marching orders—that is, I know which house I will be marching in front of with my clipboard and clicker. However, even though I will have a clipboard, I will not be in charge. Our leader is Bev, the Candy Lady, and she is the reason I volunteer. If you know her, then you know.
Like you, I am waiting for the house list of the tour, which is supposed to be released in mid-March. As I write this post on Florence’s birthday, I have not seen it updated. I know what house I will be at, but I will not spill the beans on the secrets of the Galveston Historical Foundation—not that I actually know any of their secret handshakes or stuff like that. Until they release the list, we will be in the dark. With that said, I already have my boots-on-the-ground plans for May 4, and the blog will be there on Sunday morning to send you in the right direction on Cinco de Mayo and the second weekend of the tour. We love both taking the Annual Historic Homes Tour and volunteering at it, and we will continue our coverage until Mama Theresa’s runs out of large pepperoni, hamburger, and mushroom with extra cheese pizzas for our dinner while we wait in line at the ferry to go home.
Last week, I was tired beyond Madeline Kahn tired; however, I made a journey to Mansard House on Sunday morning, bravely driving down the beach road to the ferry. This is because I thought either the jeeps being driven by drunk 20-year-olds at spring break had already been arrested or that they were still sleeping it off. You know, we see their frowning faces or mugshots on the Galveston County Sherriff’s Office website each year. But I digress.
The drive was pleasant, and it had stopped raining by the time we began our journey through the beach road in the Bolivar Peninsula. The ferry wait was minutes on the Bolivar side, and we made it to Mansard House at around 10:30 am—and yes, at every step of my journey, from the ferry to Harborside Drive, I checked to see if I could locate where USS Texas was docked. I did see her in all her glory. However, I’m not paying $20 for parking near Pier 21 across her temporary home just for one photo. I rely on many great photos from members of the Battleship Texas Foundation’s Facebook group. I’ll leave a link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/450347275643485/.
I will admit that I don’t watch much television; however, I watch a few property restoration shows, and my favorite is Restoring Galveston. It’s mainly because it’s Galveston, and the Cordrays from Save 1900 sometimes restore houses that may end up on the Galveston Historic Homes Tour. This year—or should I say “in the last two years”?—Save 1900 purchased the 1912 Smith–Perry Boarding House and restored it to a pristine inn now called Mansard House. The show is available on Discovery Plus and now on Magnolia Network.
After watching the six episodes about the restoration of this gem, I was utterly amazed at how it looked on the small screen and how much better it was in person. The best part of visiting the house was meeting those involved in the property and the show. Indeed, the Cordrays are legit. They are down to earth and are at hand on the property to meet and greet you and to answer your questions—and they did. I wish them all the luck of my 10% Irish heritage, as claimed by my ancestry.com profile on St. Patty’s Day!
After our tour of Mansard House, we headed to Shrimp and Stuff to grab some oysters and shrimp to eat in the line to the ferry; however, we had to eat quickly because the ferry was running three boats, and there wasn’t much traffic—yay!
Yes, I’m a day late and probably a dollar short on the blog, but I was tired and still visited this great place. I’ll leave a link to the Flickr photo page from Sunday.
On Tuesday, the USS. Texas was moved from her 18-month refit on a Gulf Copper dry dock in Galveston to a water dock at the same shipyard for interior and deck repairs. One of the most important restorations will be restoring the ship’s pine deck to its original historical specifications. They will also be renovating the interior, such as the restrooms, which would be a plus if you’re going to be a museum ship. I added a few videos of the move on Tuesday, which I was unable to attend because I have a job most of the time, but that morning, I was at the Relaxation Station at Central Mall—because when carpal tunnel and shoulder pain become allies, you need more than Tylenol.
One recurring fodder that the Battleship Texas Foundation keeps regurgitating is that, when the ship is finished, they’ll tell you where it is going to dock. I can tell you exactly where it will be moored. And here’s an overview photo of where it will be placed in all its glory! It will be next to the Elissa at Pier 21. I don’t know why they are doing this. It’s annoying, and it looks like they’re trying to hide something. As far as I know, they plan to reopen to the public in late summer 2025. I’m going to make the call that it will be spring 2026 before a public opening is allowed. That’s okay with me. Just do things right, and come on, Texas!
Samuel Bronson Cooper was a prominent figure in the political landscape of both Texas and Washington during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Born on May 30, 1850, in Caldwell County, Kentucky, Cooper moved with his family to Woodville, Tyler County, Texas, that same year. By his early 20s, he was establishing himself as a respected lawyer. In 1871, at age 21, he was admitted to the bar, and in 1872, he began private practice. He served as prosecutor for Tyler County from 1876 to 1880, and in 1881, he was elected to the Texas Senate, where he served for four years.
As an aside, the story that interests me the most at this point is that Asa Stratton was also serving in the Texas Senate at the time. If that name rings a bell, as it should, Asa was the father of journalist Florence Stratton. I believe this was the crossroads where Florence and Samuel’s daughter Willie would eventually meet and become friends in their youth. Throw in W. P. Hobby’s living and growing up in Woodville, and we have a history in the making that I’ve spent many hours (years) researching!
In 1885, Cooper was appointed as the collector of internal revenue for the First District of Texas in Galveston by President Grover Cleveland, where he served for three years. He ran for Texas state district judge in 1888 but was unsuccessful. His political prowess wasn’t yet done. Samuel would go on to seek a higher calling.
In 1893, Samuel B. Cooper was elected to the United States House of Representatives, representing Texas’s 2nd Congressional District as a Democrat. During his tenure in Congress, Cooper championed several issues important to Texas, including agriculture, land-use policies, and transportation infrastructure. He played a significant role in securing federal funding for projects such as railroad expansion and the improvement of navigable waterways, which were vital to the state’s economic development. His tenure would end in 1905, when he lost the election to Moses L. Broocks, but his absence was brief. He would be back in the US House of Representatives in 1907 and serve until 1909. I will mention here that during this time, Sam Bronson Cooper is the reason Beaumont has a deep water port.
Cooper was nominated by President William Howard Taft for a seat on the Board of General Appraisers in May 1910. He was confirmed by the US Senate on May 24, 1910. His service was terminated by his death on August 21, 1918.
Well, those Cordray kids have done a thing and become hoteliers. If you have access to the Discovery App, then you may have seen their restoration of the Mansard House. I only mention this because the Mansard House will be open to the public for tours on March 16 and 17 from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. each day. The cost of the tour is $25 per person. All proceeds will be donated to Restoring Galveston Together—a nonprofit that funds home repairs for local families in need! I’ll be there—how out you!
Speaking of Galveston and families in need, I can’t forget my tour of the Sealy Mansion in 2013. Magnolia Sealy was the wife of George Sealy, an entrepreneur, and she opened up the Sealy mansion during the Great Storm of 1900. Magnolia opened her doors to 200 people, giving them food and shelter when those whose homes were still standing did not. And she let them stay for a few months, while other well-to-do individuals turned their backs on Galvestonians. I put her high on my list of SETX women who made a difference for good. You don’t hear this story very often, but it’s true and it happened.
Magnolia Willis Sealy is pictured. In 1875 Magnolia Willis Sealy married George Sealy. George and his brother John Sealy were wealthy Galveston businessmen with extensive interests in cotton, banking, and railroads. It is generally believed that the Magnolia Petroleum Company, owned by John’s son John Hutchings Sealy, was named for his aunt Magnolia Willis Sealy. That company would later merge into the Mobil Oil Corporation, and today it is Exxon-Mobil.
Magnolia’s story could have fit into my Friday blog for International Women’s Day, but truth be told, I wanted to go more international, and the stories I chose are actually my favorites. The Nachthexen were laughed at and dismissed by their male counterparts, yet they fought and died, achieving victory on two fronts—victory over the Wehrmacht and their Soviet male comrades.
The Trung sisters fought against Chinese tyranny. Trained by their father in military tactics, they taught peasants to fight with weapons and for their freedom. This is a unique story in the world of combat, witnessing two women instructing others to defend their land.
Boudica had no problem defending her land, especially after the Romans killed her husband. Again, the Romans dismissed her army as minimal, but they paid the ultimate price in the beginning. (Never diss this miss!)
I will also throw out the names of Jane Long (Mother of Texas) and Kate Dorman because there are no others that can size up to these Texans.
It’s International Women’s Day, so I can cross borders with my regional blog. (I don’t make the rules!) Florence Stratton, the Beaumont newspaper journalist who wrote for both the Enterprise and the Journal, crossed borders in 1920 with her best friend Willie Cooper-Hobby and her husband, Texas Governor W. P. Hobby. They went to Mexico to see Álvaro Obregón Salido being sworn in as the country’s nuevo presidente. Florence had a knack for mingling, but it was done on Willie’s tab at first, or should I say on that of Sam Bronson Cooper, Willie’s father. He was a congressman, which is why his daughter Willie and her friend Florence went to Washington DC to do socialite things, such as going to a party at the White House in 1908. I should also state that thanks to Sam Cooper, Beaumont has a deep-water port. I’ll leave a link in Sunday’s blog.
Nachthexen
During World War II, the Night Witches emerged as a formidable force in the Soviet Union’s 588th Night Bomber Regiment. Made up entirely of women, this courageous regiment struck fear into the hearts of its Nazi adversaries. Operating obsolete biplanes under the cover of darkness, they executed daring bombing raids, relentlessly harassing German troops on the eastern front. Flying low to avoid detection, they faced constant danger from enemy fire. Despite the odds, the Night Witches displayed unparalleled bravery and resilience, and their stealthy, lethal attacks earned them their nickname. Their extraordinary feats continue to inspire awe and admiration, and they highlight the indomitable spirit of women in wartime. I will also add that Yevdokiya Yakovlevna Rachkevich traced the regiment’s path during the war and managed to locate the remains of some of the women who were listed as missing in action so that they could receive proper burials.
Boudica
Boudica, the Celtic warrior queen of the Iceni tribe, remains a symbol of rebellion and defiance against Roman oppression during the first century in Britain. After the brutal annexation of her kingdom and the mistreatment of her family, Boudica led a fierce uprising against Roman forces. With her rallying cry for freedom, she united various tribes in a formidable resistance, wreaking havoc on Roman settlements and armies. Despite facing overwhelming odds, Boudica struck fear into the hearts of her enemies with leadership and determination. Although her rebellion was eventually crushed, her legacy endures as a symbol of courage and resistance against tyranny. Don’t ever dis this miss!
The Trung Sisters
Trưng Trắc and Trưng Nhị are legendary figures in Vietnamese history. They are revered for their bravery and leadership during the first century. During the Chinese domination of their country, these sisters ignited a widespread rebellion and united Vietnamese clans against their oppressors. Fearless in battle, these charismatic leaders led their army to numerous victories, reclaiming territory and inspiring hope among their people. Even though they were eventually defeated, they are still remembered as symbols of Vietnamese independence and female empowerment. The Trung sisters’ unwavering spirit continues to inspire generations, reminding the world of the power of determination and unity in the face of adversity.
Jane Long
A pioneer and heroine of early Texas, Jane Long embodied resilience and courage during the tumultuous nineteenth century. Jane arrived in Texas in 1819 with her husband James Long, and she faced the challenges of frontier life with determination. Following her husband’s death and the outbreak of the Texas Revolution, Jane found herself a widow with children in a hostile land. However, she refused to succumb to despair, becoming a symbol of strength and self-reliance. Her ingenuity and resourcefulness—she delivered her own child in a difficult situation—epitomized the pioneer spirit. Jane Long’s legacy is integral to Texas history, and it showcases the indomitable spirit of its early settlers.
Catherine Magill Dorman
Kate arrived in Southeast Texas in 1851. Most historians believe that she lived in Sabine as early as 1847; however, the census records of her home state of Georgia show that both Kate and her husband, Arthur Magill, were still living there as late as 1850.
In 1852, Kate and her husband built the Catfish Hotel, a two-story dwelling located about three hundred yards from Fort Griffin. The hotel housed around two dozen permanent residents, along with the standard passing trade, which comprised merchants and seamen.
The Catfish had a wharf where steamers would dock regularly to indulge in the fare at the hotel’s popular eatery. During the Civil War, one patron, a certain William Berry Duncan (confederate officer, Liberty County sheriff, and cattleman), wrote that he made frequent visits to the hotel, sometimes leaving his post at Grigsby’s Bluff to dine and enjoy what he called “some tolerable good music.”
On November 2, 1859, tragedy struck. Arthur Magill, by then the chief engineer on the T. J. Smith, a Neches River mail packet, was killed when its boiler exploded. This left Kate alone to care for their two young daughters. Kate would later sue Captain H. C. Smith, the owner of the T. J. Smith, for her deceased husband’s wages. This would be one of many legal confrontations between the two.
H. C. Smith wasn’t the only thorn in Kate’s side. One day, a woman nicknamed Dutch Margaret entered the Catfish Hotel while Kate was serving meals. Dutch Margaret proceeded to vilify and yell obscenities at Kate in front of all the diners. Kate immediately retaliated with her own set of obscenities before resuming her duties. Unbeknownst to Kate, three of her friends met Dutch Margaret on the street and caned her with a parasol (an umbrella).
Dutch Margaret filed a lawsuit on the grounds that she had suffered a miscarriage from the caning. The plaintiff’s attorney, H. C. Pedigo, questioned the legality of a juror named Will J. Collins and the claim that he lived in Jefferson County. This resulted in the first survey of the West Jefferson County line. The case was postponed until Mr. Collins’s legitimacy as a county resident was verified, and it was eventually thrown out. Three months later, Dutch Margaret gave birth to a son.
In 1860, Kate married a widowed friend of her deceased husband. His name was Captain John Dorman, and he was the master of the Neches River cotton steamer Doctor Massie.
In July 1862, the yellow fever epidemic hit Sabine after a vessel ran the blockade put in place by the Federals. At least one thousand people fled the area afraid of what was known as yellow jack. The fever killed a hundred people in Sabine and Beaumont, forty of whom were Confederate soldiers.
With the tenants of the Catfish Hotel fleeing and nearly everyone else in Sabine escaping due to the dreaded disease, Kate stood strong. With no regard for her health, she, along with her two friends Sarah Vosburg and Sarah Ann King, turned the hotel into a makeshift hospital to care for the sick and the dying.
In October of that same year, fifty Federal troops came ashore in Sabine with a howitzer. They were on their way to burn the Confederate cavalry barracks. While marching through Sabine, they confiscated Captain Dorman’s horse and cart in order to mount the howitzer on it.
Witnessing this, Kate’s Irish temper boiled. Without thinking about the consequences, she began shaking her fist in the air and scolding the Federal invaders, telling them she hoped the Confederate boys would kill every last one of them. She added that if she had twenty-five men, she could take out the Federals and their cannon herself.
After the Federals burned down the Confederate barracks and stable, they marched through Sabine again. They returned Captain Dorman’s horse and cart with a word of warning—if he did not keep his “damn wife’s mouth shut,” they would hang him. Also, if she did not apologize to them, they would burn down the hotel. Kate replied that she would see them in hell first and that they could set fire to the building if they wanted to.
A week later, the Federals sent another patrol ashore. They burned a quarter of the town, including a sawmill and some residences, but they left the Catfish Hotel untouched.
All the stories above—some local, some international—show women’s will and determination to succeed.
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