Category Archives: History

“Thoughts and Ramblings: 1929: Florence Stratton and Family; Louise Stratton; Willie Cooper Hobby.”

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Back in January 1929, Florence Stratton’s new year didn’t begin well. Her sister Louise died on January 9 from pulmonary tuberculosis, then her best friend Willie Cooper Hobby died suddenly from a stroke on January 14. Like Louise, Willie had been ill for a while. There were no more Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letters for the month of January.

First, I want to get into the Stratton, Stevens, and Stephens families; then I want to talk about Willie. Florence didn’t arrive in Beaumont on her own; she came here because her sister Emily and husband Walter H. Stevens moved here in 1900, as far as I see in the timeline. Both Walter H. and Emily are in the 1900 Beaumont census. Louise is also living with them. This is a trend I see with this family. They always live together. I know that Florence, Emily, and Louise’s mother died in 1895, which might explain why Louise was with her big sister Emily, as Louise was sickly her whole life.

Florence moved to Beaumont in 1903 and took a teaching job here. She had taught in Alabama since graduating as a valedictorian in 1900 from Troy Normal College. Florence began her journalism career in 1907 with the Beaumont Journal and would hone her skills in the coming years. As for the family, they would live their lives and move around into a couple of residences.

Walter Stevens, Florence’s brother-in-law, was a drug clerk at E. L. Clough Drug Store; some kind of partnership must have been in place because he was vice president in 1906–07. It is possible that he bought the store or opened his own because in 1909 he was president of the Stevens Drug Company, which was located in the Perlstein Building. I haven’t researched this. I’m only going on city directories, but I know that he retired from Magnolia Petroleum in 1938 as a caseworker for accidents at the refinery. So that would have ended his business, or he sold it, in 1915. I guess I could ask George W. Carroll, if I had a time machine, because he was vice president. Like I said in the past, historical research is very time-consuming if you want to be accurate.

I don’t know much about Walter’s wife, Emily, except that she was Florence’s older sister, but she gave me the most helpful clue to determine Florence’s birthday. I remember contacting the Brazoria County Historical Commission (BCHC) and asking for some sort of info about Florence Stratton. I had contacted them two years before and did receive a few things on Asa Stratton, Florence’s father, but this time the person on the other end of the phone replied, “Stratton? I have a scrapbook from a Stratton that someone in Conroe, TX, found at an estate sale. It’s here on my desk.”

I asked what the name was, and it was Emily. I visited the BCHC that week and had a great time. But it wasn’t until I had a similar experience with the Tyrrell Historical Library.

At the time, I had been doing research for five years and was spending hours on microfilm on the Weekly Letters. Then, out of the blue, I mentioned something to Bill Grace about Florence Stratton, and he replied, “Oh yeh, there was someone who donated a bunch of letters from the Stratton family six months ago.”

Hmm. He did know that I had spent over three years researching Florence, but I guess something like that slipped his mind—we won’t get into that. I did find two interesting letters though, one from Florence and the other from Emily. Emily’s letter was to her father in February 1883. In it, a ten-year-old Emily said that Florence could say her name. That’s amazing if you consider earlier information that states Florence was born in March 1883.

I will cherish the ten-year-old Emily, along with the person who sent the letters to the Tyrrell Historical Library, for this, because there is only a mention in a 1900 census that Florence was born in 1881, and her birthdate is not problematic because Florence mentioned it six times in her Weekly Letter.

That leaves me to Eunice Stephens, who married Arthur Stephens. She was Emily’s daughter and Florence’s niece. I don’t know what Eunice would think of me; I always try to get the facts straight on her aunt. In Florence’s history, details such as her day and year of birth were just plain wrong. Most of it came from Eunice, but I still can’t blame her because Florence always lied about her age. It’s difficult to do research when you have only one source that throws everything and everyone off. So any research that states that Florence was born in 1883 is wrong. Sorry, Eunice. I’ll shut up now, but I still think you’re awesome for bragging about your aunt and taking care of Florence’s house, which stands catercorner to the McFaddin-Ward house on McFaddin Avenue.

Sam Bronson Cooper

Willie Cooper Hobby was the daughter of Sam Bronson Cooper (SBC). Sam was the reason that Beaumont had a deepwater port. I may get into some of SBC’s history at a later date because it is notable in many respects. In the years that he served as a US representative, Florence was with Willie in Washington, DC. Willie was a bit of a socialite and even attended White House parties. I do know that Florence attended one with her in 1909.

In 1915, Willie married W. P. Hobby and went on to become the first lady of Texas when Hobby was governor from 1917 to 1921. I’ve written before that Florence wrote a book of recipes of famous women. Willie was the source of information for the book during her four years of entertaining at the mansion.

One thing I will note about this time is that Florence basically moved into the mansion and lived with both the governor and the first lady, who were her best friends. She went to all the events that the governor attended. She even went to the inauguration of Álvaro Obregón in Mexico in 1920. Florence had her ways, and I believe she enjoyed her life. She loved family and friends. I’m sure that this week back in 1929 was painful for her, but she survived and did even better things. Stay tuned, Della.

Sam Bronson Cooper:

https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/cooper-samuel-bronson

Troy Normal College/ Troy University:  

https://www.troy.edu/about-us/historical-timeline.html

William P. Hobby:  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_P._Hobby

Willie Cooper Hobby:  

Willie Chapman Cooper Hobby

“Thoughts and Ramblings: Digging into the Bee’s Knees of the 1920s; Back to Researching Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter; Beaumont’s Daredevil; Did I See Yanni at Renfest? The Cowboys Game on Thanksgiving Day in 1976; Kim Hendrix Ate at Monceaux’s Too; The Weather Gods Don’t Care about Your Alma Mater”

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Beaumont Enterprise January 17, 1926

I hope everyone had an enjoyable Christmas and had no broken pipe issues (this is another reason why you shouldn’t wish for a white Christmas). Here it was quiet. We did the thing on Monday because everyone except me had to work. I spent my time flipping through the digital copies of the Beaumont Enterprise archives. One reason I’m spending my research time in the 1920s is that I CAN!

For my research on Florence Stratton, I spent many hours and a good amount of money on a microfilm machine at the Tyrrell Historical Library because Lamar didn’t want to take my money since I wasn’t an alumnus. Their loss. I don’t use Lamar for anything except maybe Gladys City, as they are an undiscovered jewel for the university. I have almost all the copies of “Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter,” which ran from 1926 to 1938, but some of those from the microfilm are illegible. So, I am going through the papers again because I can access the Beaumont Enterprise digitally and by date. My first search was for 1926, when “Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter” began, as far as I can tell, on February 28. I’ll look into 1925 again later, but this is the date. I aim to find all the letters and obtain a good digital copy of them. Of course, all my research is stored at the Jefferson County Historical Commission office, in case I eat too many Zummo sausages and expire. Florence will live on!

Going through these Sunday newspapers gives me time to look at things other than the weekly letters. There are a few nuggets of our history that I’ll be throwing out. One example is Mr. Louis A. Sacker, a daredevil who would “feast on horseshoes.” Sacker was a 27-year-old Beaumont strong man who would have probably made a killing on the wrestling circuit in the 1990s, but this was 1926. Still, he seemed to be doing good in the first two months of 1926. I added the photo of his article because “Gr-r-r,” “Gr-r-h,” and “Gr-r-R-RRRR!!.” These are actual quotes. I hope I see more of him in the later issues—iron, I assume, is good for your diet. Notice the ad in his article? 6 6 6 was a cold medicine that was advertised throughout the 1920s. I’ll throw out another one: the ads for Dr. Caldwell’s constipation medicine always targeted women. These ads are everywhere. I don’t think he was the bee’s knees when it came to women’s health. Snake oil comes to mind. Based on his photo in the ads, he looked like a disgruntled captain of a non-profitable fishing boat.

I’ve never really met someone famous, but there was that one time at the Texas Renaissance Festival in 2014 when I was at the back of the Magic Garden standing in awe of the bejeweled relic of St. Felix in a glass coffin. I began taking photos of this inspiring event when, lo and behold, I believe I saw Yanni in one of my photos. I have no idea if it was actually Yanni because I’m not Wanda and won’t start awkward conversations of which I would be the only beneficiary. If it was Yanni, he would have probably smiled and thrown in a hand gesture (I usually do this when Wanda and I converse). He looked like he was enjoying a nice day out, and I wasn’t going to mess that up.

Bob Lilly

Back in 1976, I met Bob Lilly in a hallway at a hotel in Dallas before the Thanksgiving game in which the Cowboys played the Cardinals. I have only a few memories of this time. One is the crap seats. The second is the Hare Krishna peeps asking for money as we were leaving, and the third is the briefcase full of alcohol guy on the bus back to the hotel. He was a little giddy about Dallas winning. It’s all a good memory, but when I see the video of the game where some Cardinal player put his cleats on the back of Preston Pearson and no flag was called, I realize that today’s American football sucks in 2022. I’ll leave a link to the video of the only professional American football game I ever attended.

Kim Hendrix

One thing that I always bring up is Monceaux’s Drive-In. I spent many dollars on that cheeseburger deluxe white box with fries and onion rings. At this time, I watched KJAC and always enjoyed Kim Hendrix’s newscast. There was this one time when I was waiting in line for my order, and some gofer came in and said that he was there to pick up “Kim’s” call-in order. My brain went to “Oh, Kim eats the same heavenly food as I do! I must be blessed.” I must have been around eighteen or nineteen because after I left, I went to a convenience store and a conversation on the weather came up with a woman. I answered her question, and she was impressed that I knew about radar. I guess she thought I worked at the station because she was unaware that a primitive radar was available on cable TV. I told her this, but she praised me all the same for knowing about the technology.

Speaking of radars, one July Fourth I watched Bob Becker’s forecast on KBMT, which informed me that we had great weather for the firework presentation in downtown Beaumont. “So go enjoy all the festivities.” Twenty minutes later, an ominous blip on the radar showed up. Apparently, a thunderstorm had formed over downtown Beaumont, and a gully washer ensued. Of course, there was no way I was going to miss the ten o’clock forecast! Poor guy. The weather gods always leave them holding the bag. I saw this again after Tropical Storm Imelda. One weather person clearly stated that this hurricane was not Harvey. I watched their next newscast from their new location because the station had flooded during the storm. Mother Nature hates to be fooled, and the weather gods don’t care about your degree from Texas A&M or Mississippi State.

I want to say that although I rant about millennials and Generation Z people, some of them did an amazing job during Hurricane Harvey. While on the air, they answered questions from people on the phone who didn’t know what to do in the flood and needed guidance. Kudos to y’all for knowing that people needed help in a dire situation.

Well, I’m done for this week, but I hope to be hanging with Susie this month, and we may even see what Beaumont’s daredevil Louis’s next gig is. “Gr-r-r” for now, because I don’t want to scare anyone with the full “Gr-r-R-RRRR!!.”

Rest in Peace Bob Becker:

6 6 6 cold medicine:

https://www.si.edu/object/666-cold-preparation%3Anmah_209858

Dr. Caldwell:

https://nationalzoo.si.edu/object/nmah_71544

2014 Texas Renaissance Festival photos:

9.04.14

1976-11-25 St. Louis Cardinals vs Dallas Cowboys:

“Thoughts and Ramblings: Praise the Lard and Pass the Tamales; Mi Ranchito; Selena; Toodlum; Ol’ 503”

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Ol’ No. 503

It may be because I’m hungry, but all I’m thinking about right now is early eateries, which I enjoyed. I’ve already rehashed this, so I won’t go into my love for Pie Face, Fish Net, Guadalajara, or Monceaux’s Drive-In. However, I will state that you can put a cheeseburger and three greasy onion rings in a white box, but it’s not the same as the original. So, there’s your Gulfway Drive memory for today; you can share it with your Facebook friends. And I will add that those three greasy onion rings were divine. Only the Lard knows how they were prepared.

Speaking of the Lard, it’s tamale season, and I’m happy about that. Growing up, Christmas dinner was never a thing. We went to parties, and that’s where I got my love for olives, but a proper tea cup-sipping meal was never on the menu. However, as you evolve as a human being and marry into a Hispanic family, you quickly figure out that Mexican food is not the Patio TV dinner on which I grew up. You know those aluminum trays with the three tacos, beans, and rice? Tamales are divine but a lot of work. Because of this experience, I know what real Mexican food is, yet I always have a can of Hormel tamales in the cupboard. They are part of my hurricane rations and go with no other type of food, except maybe Wolf Brand chili, but my stepchildren rightfully judge me on this.

Thinking back, I remember that my friend Adam Troy Rodriguez, the owner/operator of Mi Ranchito in Groves back in the 1990s, made an immaculate fajita potato, which I indulged in. Still, I want to tell a couple of truths. The first one has to do with when Selena Quintanilla Pérez died on March 31, 1995. I went to his restaurant expecting a fajita potato, but I discovered that Yolanda Saldívar had murdered la Reyna de Tejano. We both were distraught. I remember the weather that evening was dark and thunderous, almost like it was here in SETX when Jack Kennedy was terminated near a grassy knoll, back in the ‘60s. The second one is I was and am a fan of Tejano. Eventually, I hope that Yolanda rots in hell for what she did, and if hell doesn’t exist, I’m hopeful that she ends up serving eternity inside the ghost of St. James School in Port Arthur. Shout-out to Sister Mary Perpetua—I digress.

I will admit that Mr. Rodriguez makes the best dirty rice. Haters can line up and shill their granny’s stuff, but Adam Troy Rodriguez is the best dirty rice chef and a fajita potato extraordinaire. My condolences to the chefs of other eateries that think they bring the baked potato to new heights. And I’m not the only one to rave about him. Toodlum, a.k.a. Martha Ferguson, rambled on about him in one of her articles in the Port Arthur News back in the ‘90s.

Speaking of Toodlum, I want to dive deeply into her articles this winter to uncover any nuggets of history that she graced us with. For those who didn’t know Martha Ferguson, she was famous in Port Arthur for being Martha. She was the ultimate cheerleader of sorts for the city, and she dearly loved the Ol’ No. 503 Kansas City Southern Engine, which is located in Bryan Park on Gulfway Drive. She wanted very much to have this engine restored and was chair of the Save Ol’ No. 503 Committee back in 1985. Today, the 503 hasn’t been restored. A few years ago, there was a movement to relocate it because the city wanted to scrap it. As I really don’t have all the facts, I’ll just say that the engine wasn’t scrapped and was indeed moved—about one hundred feet. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog to a video the company made while moving it. Years from now, when alien archaeologists come across this video, I’m sure they’ll have the same reaction I had. (This sentence has been left out because it contained nothing but profanity.) One hundred feet?

Well, in case you missed it, here’s my “Food for Thought in Port Arthur” post from 2013.

Bon appétit for now!

Growing up in Port Arthur in the 1970s did have its finer points to some degree. As a kid I had no idea what Bernis Sadler (then the mayor) was up to nor did I care. My main concern was whether or not Monceaux Drive In had those delectable and greasy onion rings with my cheeseburger deluxe served in a cardboard pie box. Truth be told, there is nothing that comes close. Similarly, onion rings are unbeatable one ! (Baby Boomers will remember Monceaux’s for the root-beer among other things.)

Over the course of two decades, I have discovered many eateries in my hometown, and there were many. One that comes to mind is a little takeout place called Hartman’s, which was located on Bluebonnet Avenue. If you loved home-style cooking, then this was a gem. I can remember walking in and feeling as if I was in someone’s house, except for the screen door attached to the kitchen from which an elderly man emerged with your plate lunch after you had ordered it from a very nice elderly lady.

These two people were delightful. As far as I could tell, these were the Hartman’s, and one could believe this except for their heavy Cajun accents. One thing that sticks out in my mind is that, when I would call ahead, the lady would ask what I wanted. My answer, of course, was the Étouffée, but there were many things besides the main course. “So what are the sides?”

“Well, we got lima beans, string beans, pinto beans, red beans, white beans, and (it always ended with) black-eyed peas.”

Whatever the sides, this was something to treasure. Speaking of treasure, I also remember a place next to Roy’s Food Center on Lewis Drive called the Brisket Room. The chip beef sandwiches were the best barbeque—or at least they were until I found Billy Joe’s in Port Neches.

Port Arthur seemed to always promote itself as the friendliest city by the sea. Well, Port Arthur is not by the sea, it’s by a lake, but I will give credit to the seafood. There were three restaurants that I enjoyed. The first and foremost was Leo and Willie’s. There was no place better in the 80s—except on Thursdays. On Thursdays I would order a seafood platter from the Texas Fish Net Restaurant. There was no one who had better catfish than the Fish Net!

And let us not forget about the Farm Royale on Memorial. Back in the day, most knew this place to be an upper-class eatery, and they weren’t mistaken. Other eateries offering decent seafood (technically I do not know if they are in Port Arthur, but they are worth mentioning) are Domingue’s on the Neches (under the Rainbow Bridge) and of course, Esther’s. Yes, I do know the latter is in Groves, Texas, but it was just a great place to eat back when.

Finally, sometimes we craved Mexican food, and there was no better place at the time to treat ourselves than under the train bridge at Taco Rey, or my favorite, Guadalajara on 9th Avenue. Both had pretty good Tex-Mex food. Nowadays Taco Rey can be found in Nederland, and Guadalajara still has a restaurant in Orange Texas.

Please forgive this minor indulgence because this blog really has no historic value other than me remembering those greasy onion rings, chip beef sandwiches, plate lunches, catfish, and tacos from places and times long since passed.

Food for Thought in Port Arthur Texas (70’s- 80’s)

Selena:  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selena

St. James school photos:   

https://flic.kr/s/aHsjHbBt2P

Ol’ No. 503 video:

Thoughts and Ramblings: Pearl Harbor Meant the Age of No Candy; Audie Murphy; Cecil Bordages; The Gates Memorial Library; Interurban; Bill Quick.

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The eighty-first anniversary of Pearl Harbor was this week, and all those I’ve talked with, who were children at the time of the attack, have similar memories. Most didn’t know where Pearl Harbor was and didn’t understand what was happening, but later, when the rationing of sugar and candy began, as children, this really hit home. The older folks, from age fifteen to people in their thirties, who understood what had happened, signed up for service soon after the attack. And yes, many fifteen-plus-year-olds attempted to serve their country. Some even made it to the theaters of war. Audie Murphy was sixteen when he infiltrated the US Army with the help of his older sister, who falsified documents for him. I guess the US Army should be glad that they got duped because no other soldier was decorated more than that little underweight sixteen-year-old.

Audie Murphy

During the Great War, a fifteen-year-old from Beaumont named Cecil Bordages was attending a private school in New York but decided to enlist to serve his country in 1918. Being large for his age, Cecil looked older than he was, so he was accepted into the Mounted Service Field Artillery 162nd Ammunition Train Twenty-Seventh Division; I would assume he then went off to France with Company F 102nd Ammunition Train. His actual age was discovered, and the army was ready to send him back, but his mother basically told them not to bother, as he would just go back to his unit if they did. He served a year and made it back to the United States. Based on some of the Beaumont Enterprise articles I’ve read, he lived a good and fruitful life with many mentions of helping others. I even saw an article that said he helped the Empty Stocking Fund.

A couple of other anniversaries that occurred in December were the opening of the Gates Memorial Library in Port Arthur and the inauguration of the interurban. The Gates library opened to the public on December 1, 1917, but wasn’t dedicated until May 18, 1918. The library, a gift of Mrs. Dellora Gates to Port Arthur, was in memory of her husband John “Bet-a-Million” Gates and her son Charles. The dedication coincided with another event called “Gates Day.” This event began in 1912 to pay tribute to the late Mr. Gates on his birthday for his contributions to Port Arthur. Gates died in Paris on August 9, 1911. The annual celebration took place each May 18 until 1921, when the Gates family requested its end.

I’ve mentioned John “Bet-a-Million” Gates before, and I stand by the fact that if he hadn’t been here, nothing in Port Arthur would have been built. Arthur Stilwell was all hat, no cattle, and a bit of a loon. But I digress.

December 15 will mark the 109th anniversary of the opening of regular service on the interurban line between Beaumont and Port Arthur. Yes, the Texas Historical Marker in front of the building that used to be its starting point says August 16, but all evidence states otherwise. Would I dare talk smack about the Texas Historical Commission? Of course I would, because it’s wrong. As the final piece of evidence, I’ll throw in a photo of a plaque in which William D. “Bill” Quick’s name is at the bottom, which gives the same info. So, what is an interurban you might ask, and who is Bill Quick?

First, the interurban was an electric train that serve Jefferson County residents from December 15, 1913, to August 15, 1932. The tracks extended from Austin Avenue in Port Arthur to Orleans Street in Beaumont. The train would make nineteen trips per day with an early start at 5:45 a.m. and a midnight finish. Tickets cost ninety cents for a roundtrip or fifty cents one-way and were prorated for the ten stops between the two cities. Stops along the way included South Park, Spindletop, Nederland, Rice Farm, and Griffing/Pear Ridge.

I’ve always found the fact that our county had an electric train in 1913 fascinating. Even more intriguing is how someone in Jefferson County could make ice in August in the 1900s. I’m not a scientist, so I don’t know how that’s possible; I’ll leave it to you engineers who run the great ice Illuminati.

William D. Quick was a historian who lived in Nederland. I never met him, but I guarantee you that every time I do some research, he is in my head, guiding me to try to be as accurate as possible. I attended my first Jefferson County Historical Commission meeting a year to the day that Bill passed. He influenced many people in his life as a researcher/historian, and I talked to many of them in the last ten years. I was honored and excited to be able to go through his research at the Sam Houston Research Center in Liberty. He was very thorough in his work, and I often draw on his example. I was told that when doing research, you should have at least three sources. Bill didn’t go for hearsay; he wanted facts, not content with publishing books.

Bill Quick’s interest in history was vast; he particularly loved Sabine Pass, the beach, and the Sabine lighthouse. Hell, I believe he owned the latter at one point. There is so much information on the Sabine lighthouse in his research at the Sam Center—it’s a researcher’s dream. I’ve used a couple of articles he had in his notes that I’ve never seen anywhere else. One is the 1932 article on the abandoned Lewis Cemetery; the other talks about when Magnolia Cemetery used to have barge funerals because it was too wet and muddy to get to the site. Although I never met Mr. Quick, I follow what he brought to historical research. No one is perfect, and I usually suck at dates and details, but I do want my research to be accurate for others to use. I like to think that Bill Quick is still guiding those of us who care about our history.

Well, that’s it for this week. If you’re in a giving mood, please donate to the Empty Stocking Fund.

https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=X94T5X2AMU82S

Life in Jefferson County in World War II: https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2013/05/25/life-in-jefferson-county-during-world-war-ii/

Audie Murphy: 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audie_Murphy

John “Bet-a-Million” Gates: 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Warne_Gates

The Interurban:

Interurban Railway
100th Anniversay of the Interurban

Sabine Lighthouse:

Sabine Lighthouse

Thoughts and Ramblings: don’t go to Bobby Boucher’s house for Thanksgiving: Iron Chef and the great turkey battle; seventy-ninth anniversary of the Battle of Tarawa; Murray Anderson; Welsh calculus; Susie Spindletop’s my closer.

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I hope everyone had a Thanksgiving of plenty and a decent nap afterward while someone in your household watched some foosball. Bobby Boucher’s mother would not be happy with this situation, but then again, I wouldn’t want to have dinner at her cabin. I’ve seen some of her slithering dishes, and nutria nourishment is not something I would wish to partake in either.

Here under the oaks at Ye Olde Block Farm, it’s been an annual event to begin preparing Thursday’s feast on Wednesday, starting at 1 p.m. It’s almost a cosplay of the original Iron Chef series from the ‘90s. But here it’s the “great turkey battle,” and not some other weird stuff Mrs. Boucher would probably like. There is a difference between Iron Chef America and the original show. I remember a friend who tried to watch the Japanese version in the 2000s. Unfortunately, he saw the “great piglet battle.” If you’ve seen the show, then you know they highlight an ingredient. Chop, chop the piglets. They weren’t alive, like the “great sturgeon battle,” but it took him a week to recover from seeing that one. The dinner turned out well, and I’m glad it’s over. As far as my friend is concerned, he knows to stay out of my kitchen.

This week was the seventy-ninth anniversary of the Battle of Tarawa. Port Arthur native Hugo DeBretagne gave his life on D-day three of Operation Galvanic. It was the final day of the battle, and only his comrades know what happened; I couldn’t find any specific information in the war diaries released in 2012. I know nine marines were killed that day, compared to the 1,000 that perished in the first two days of fighting. This wasn’t the first battle that Hugo had been in. I assume he was in the Guadalcanal campaign with the Second Marines (I want to look further into this). I do know that his brother was. Thankfully, James DeBretagne made it out of WWII alive, but not without receiving the Purple Heart.

Both Hugo and his brother James weren’t the only ones who had a tie to this area and fought in the Battle of Tarawa. Murry Anderson, born in Whitney, Texas, grew up on his family’s farm in Deport, near Paris (also Texas). On the Tyler Knows Everything podcast, Murray said he “was doing a man’s work at the farm at age six.” Whether cutting or picking cotton, milking the cows each morning, or picking the corn, it was a rough life during the Depression. When he was seventeen, his father died in the spring of 1942, and the farm became financially unviable. He moved with his mother and his sisters to Dallas. He had six sisters (four got married and lived in Dallas).

Murray’s dream was to fly planes for the Navy, but he didn’t pass the examination. So, he joined the Marine Corps hoping to fly in their corps. The day he was to depart for boot camp, he got a telegram from Washington stating that there had been a mistake in the grading of the exam and that he had passed. He was to report to Hensley Field Naval Air Station in Dallas for flight training. He contacted the Marine Corps about the mistake and was told, “Sorry, but you are in the Marine Corps.” I guess this is why their slogan is “The few, the proud.”

Murray Anderson moved to Beaumont in 1958 and wrote a book about his time in the Marine Corps. The Unrelenting Test of War is an excellent recounting of the history of what he and his fellow marines faced. It is also a gem for understanding what people actually felt and went through back then. I’ll also give a massive shout-out to Tyler Troutman for his interview with Murray in 2020. He has many other stories on the podcast, including how Murray met his wife.

Murray Anderson passed in June of this year, so I want to include the podcast to tell the story in his own words. Our veterans from that era are dying, and every story should be told. Thanks to all who collect the oral histories of these men and women, because I hope that someone in the future will have enough sense to learn the hell this generation endured. Many people complain about their lives and how hard it is nowadays. I see boomers, Generation Xers, millennials, and Generation Zers crying about one thing or another, but try living through the Depression as a child and then fighting a two-front war that didn’t really affect your family, even though you went through a lot of crap that they would never experience and wouldn’t understand. This was the greatest generation, and don’t ever let some boomer tell you otherwise, unless it’s a Vietnam vet, because they got the shaft from the other boomers. Change my mind!

Well, I have to cut this week’s ramble short because I’m currently doing Welsh calculus before Tuesday’s match with the Three Lions. I’ll leave you with an excerpt from “Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter” dated November 27, 1927, because Susie was always a strong closer.

Dear Della-

Thanksgiving has come and gone, as you may have noticed, and now for the greatest convention week of the year. I refer to that season commonly known as Christmas when folks do exactly what they are supposed to do because they are supposed to do it. As currently conducted the Yuletide period could not be more stereotyped were it the work of a luncheon club. It is very cut and dried.

But there, there! I mustn’t be dampish. I may believe that persons give presents they have no right to give, and grind their teeth while doing so; I may believe that thousands of stupid cards are sent out every year, with engraved sentiments mailed out to a long-list of friends; I may believe that every household, with very, very few exceptions, labors earnestly and usually unsuccessfully to retain that old timey spirit, but it is rather unbecoming for me to say so isn’t it?

One thing is gloriously beautiful- about Christmas as ever, Della, and that is the steadfast illusions of the children. Anything we can do to continue this charming deceit is effort well spent. Any invention we can supply that will make old Santa invade a snowless country with reindeer and sleigh is an invention which though one of the most impossible frauds ever imposed on an unsuspecting and trustful juvenile, ought to be continued.

And that reminds me of a commercialized Christmas story told in newspaper circles. Seems that an ambitious automobile agent in a southern city wanted to advertise old Nick as coming to town in a limousine Eight, or whatever make of car it was he represented. He had a commercial artist draw up a picture showing Santa at the steering wheel, just lickety splitting into town. He took the ad to the local daily. And the daily would not accept it.

“No, sir,” said the advertising manager, shaking his head, “that won’t go with the kiddies. You may have the best car in the world, but Santa isn’t supposed to know it. He still travels behind reindeer in this paper.

So said Susie November 27, 1927

Iron Chef: Suckling Pig Battle Chen vs Stelvio

222 – The Costliest Day in US Marine History – WW2:

The Unrelenting Test of War by Murray Anderson

Tyler Knows Everything podcast: https://youtu.be/JN-z-QB9TOg

Thoughts and Ramblings: transferring prisoners on a cemetery tour on Veterans Day; cemetery symbolism; Brandon and Skipwith may have been a thing; Woodmen of the World; International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo; Yma o Hyd

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Blue skies and tailwinds

This is the last time on Thoughts and Ramblings that I’ll mention what happened last week, but I wanted to include the faces of the people and a few words. I will digress more on this subject on Mondays if needed. Every time I came upon the B-17 Texas Raiders at the airshows, the crew was out there greeting the visitors with a smile and their history lessons. When I first went inside the old girl as a child, I was mesmerized by the plane. A fortress indeed. After many years and crew changes, the guys’ attitude remained the same. They always put the history of the B-17 Texas Raiders front and center. At every airshow I attended, those who manned the Texas Raiders were cutting it up with the kids who showed up for their first event. Even today, that’s something that impacts children. I know the airshow will go on, but that B-17 with only one wheel trying to land during the Tora Airshow will never happen again, and there’s history to that (link below); unfortunately, though, those guys are no longer here to explain its significance to you. We lost six great men on Saturday, and here are their names and faces.

https://warbirdsnews.com/warbird-articles/texas-raiders-one-wheel-tribute.html

Terry Barker, Craig Hutain, Kevin “K5” Michels, Dan Ragan, Leonard “Len” Root, and Curt Rowe.

Without any knowledge of what happened, I’ll add that Craig Hutain was usually the guy in the P-40 that chased the zeros during the Tora shows. He had been flying since he was ten years old (that’s not a typo). As you can imagine, with over fifty years of flying experience, he was an expert. Here, under the oaks on Ye Olde Block’s farm, they will all be remembered. Please keep the families of these men in your prayers.

Blue skies and tailwinds.

Thoughts and Ramblings: transferring prisoners on a cemetery tour on Veterans Day; cemetery symbolism; Brandon and Skipwith may have been a thing; Woodmen of the World; International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo; Yma o Hyd

On Veterans Day, we did a Magnolia Cemetery tour for those who signed up for the McFaddin-Ward House and Museum lecture series. It went really well. Those walking tours are good because you can discuss history in a different setting compared to when someone is stationed at their spot. I love our Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour, but unfortunately, I’ve never taken it because I’m too busy at my station. Still, I did have spies out with digital recorders, and I must say (again) that I love our presenters!

Inside the Norvell Mausoleum

That day, the tour was originally meant to consist of two tours that would last an hour each, scheduled at different times, with Judy Linsley and I as the guides. But things got crossed in the timey-wimey email universe. In the end, though, we did it. We decided that the short tour could be split into two areas. One covered the hill and the original plots of the cemetery, while the other included its lower portion.  Since Judy knows the hill better than me, she would take her group up there and talk for thirty minutes while I took my group around the lower part and talked about those residents. It worked out well because if you want to know about those on the hill, Judy is the one to listen to. I know my people and stories around the office and the flagpole. We agreed that we would do a prisoner exchange at the thirty-minute mark in the middle of the tour area, at the Keith plot where Tom the Tramp is interred. Yes, it was my idea to transfer the people on the tour between the two of us. I thought that by listening to guides who know their subject, the visitors would have a better experience. It was also me who called it a prisoner exchange. This is how my mind works, so consider it if you want me to speak at your event. Thanks to all who participated. I assume you enjoyed the tour because you were a great crew.

One thing that I brought up on the tour was the cemetery’s symbolism and some fraternal features. A funerary urn, for example, represents immortality. If there’s a drape over the urn, it symbolizes the veil between life and death. A broken obelisk or column means a life that ended prematurely. One obelisk on the hill was put there to memorialize Brandon Chaison, who died aged twenty-one when he was thrown off his horse. Family tradition holds that he and Skipwith McFaddin, W. P. H. McFaddin’s daughter from his first wife, were in love. I will also add that one of my favorite names is Skipwith. The other two are Seawillow and Fannie. My stepdaughters are thankful that I was not around in the naming department, but they might make a fantastic Brady Bunch reboot if anyone’s interested. I threw that out to you for free. Sorry if you’re named Marcia, Jan, or Cindy, but those names rock!

Woodmen of the World

When you scan over the many acres of headstones in Magnolia or any old cemetery, you may see ones that look like tree stumps. They are the product of the Woodmen of the World, an insurance company back in the day. The company is still around, but I believe they’re not as prominent as used to be. The Woodmen of the World derived from the Modern Woodmen of America, a fraternal group founded in 1883. The Woodmen advertised themselves as an organization for the “Jew and Gentile, Catholic and Protestant, the agnostic and atheist.” In other words, they didn’t care who you were; they just wanted your money.

In Magnolia Cemetery, you can find many different fraternal groups. The Odd Fellows are a prominent one; they even have their own section. I’m always wondering if today we could bring back to SETX some sort of fraternal order, such as the International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo, Inc. They are still active but have too many restrictive rules that I don’t agree with. However, I’m game for using a Cheshire cat as a mascot. Anyway, this order was founded in Arkansas in 1892 during a layover by some guys from the timber and lumber industry whose train had broken down. I’m sure debauchery ensued, and we had another order that today lives on as a webpage. They were big back then until the depression hit. Who knows what the actual order is up to now? Illuminati stuff probably, because their symbol is a cat, and cats want to take over the world. Please tell this to the Dogtober people in Beaumont; Catvember is all they ask for, but I digress.

The World Cup begins today in Qatar, and I was just informed that no beer will be sold in the stadiums. I blame FIFA for this; my condolences to the English, the Germans, and the Welsh for this tragedy.

Until next week, cheers mate! Gott ein Bier! Yma o Hyd (we’re still here, and to hell with everyone else, because we’re Cymru!).

Craig Hutain flying the P40:

One Wheel Tribute by Kevin Michels:

https://warbirdsnews.com/warbird-articles/texas-raiders-one-wheel-tribute.html

Gravestone symbols:

http://wolfememorial.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/GRAVESTONE-SYMBOLS-and-THEIR-MEANINGS.pdf

Woodmen of the World:

https://www.woodmenlife.org/about/history/

Odd Fellows:

Home

International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo, Incorporated:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Concatenated_Order_of_Hoo-Hoo

Dogtoberfest:

Home 2023

Yma o Hyd:

Monday Digressions

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I’ve been pondering doing a blog called Monday Digressions for a while now because I have a lot of interests, and some of these don’t pertain to SETX. So, when I get hardcore into Welshyness, those there for SETX history on Sunday’s blog won’t have to read my constant digressions. But they get what they pay for. So, this week I thought I would test the waters. However, I really wasn’t expecting the topic.

I spent most of the morning finishing up my thoughts and ramblings. It was all about the Beaumont Boys and those who died. Twenty-four came home to be buried here, but others didn’t, and it affected their loved ones. I won’t even go into the lecture much, but I assume it went well for most people. I believe it was the most attended lecture for the McFaddin-Ward House this year. It was a great chance to throw me up front and make me talk about things that I don’t usually discuss. Well, at least it’s over, and Kelli and Judy did a great job. In contrast, on Thursday I spent all day at Ford Park with a bunch of Aggies, freezing my butt off, because someone there puts locks on the thermostats. Of course, farmer Brown and old McDonald had a jacket, but I’m not as smart as them, so now I’m sick. One thing I will tell you is that when those folks on I-10 were doing their usual something and a tanker truck caught fire, I wanted to run over there, not because the people in the accident needed help (they were fine), but because I was freezing. Let that sit there if you want to judge my capitulation at the lecture. I’m glad everyone showed up; at least I got my stuff together in the end.

A few hours after I finished this Sunday’s blog, I checked my social media and saw that the Tora Airshow and the Commemorative Air Force had posted a thoughts and prayers tweet. That always sucks. Dammit, this hit hard. Six people are dead, and they are volunteers who fly those planes and teach the history of what those relics did in their era.

I’ve seen the videos and won’t comment on what happened until those doing the investigation have finished. It is a tragedy, and I grieve for the families of all those lost. They were not paid to do these shows. They flew these planes out of love, wanting to bring history to life.

As a kid and a teenager in the 1980s, I’ve been inside the Texas Raiders B-17 at the Jefferson County Airport, and I have seen it fly many times. I love the old planes; they’re almost family to me, so this hurts.

I’m tired and sick, and part of me died Saturday, but I digress.

Blue skies and tailwinds guys!

Thoughts and Ramblings: Me, Krampus, and der Belsnickel will be up to nothing; World War I memorial; the Beaumont Boys; Minor’s cross

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My calendar is done until February, so Krampus, der Belsnickel, and I will enjoy nothing at all until then. Actually, I am looking forward to bringing up a Welsh character called the Mari Lwyd, but that’s in December, so no more Welshness until then. However, I will say that it’s a guy dressed in a sackcloth with a horse skull on top that knocks on your door and incites a rap battle for your food and alcohol! I love the Welsh! Stay tuned.

At both the lecture and the cemetery tour, we discussed the movement/committee that wants to move the World War I memorial from Triangle Park to Magnolia Cemetery. I’m sure you’re wondering where this park is located, and I’m also certain that you didn’t know there was a memorial dedicated to the Beaumont Boys who died in World War I. Well, the current location is on Main street, in front of the old Beaumont Enterprise building, across the street from the Fire Museum of Texas. Triangle Park may be the smallest park in Texas because it’s triangle-shaped with only the monument and a bunch of aggressive jasmine as greenery. Truth be told, the memorial used to be in Keith Park, located at the present-day site of the Julie Rogers Theatre, which was built as the original city hall in 1927.

The memorial was a project of a community of Beaumonters who wished to honor those who died in the Great War, whether in battle or during the Spanish flu pandemic. The Beaumont Journal led the fundraising, which consisted of donations of no more than $5 per person, so that as many people as possible could donate to the memorial. Initially, the monument was supposed to have the names of all the Beaumont Boys who perished inscribed on it, but this never happened. Though if these fine folks/extraordinary researchers get their way, it will finally happen. I’m excited about this, and so are the people at Magnolia Cemetery. So, if you know anyone pulling the strings at the City of Beaumont, you may mention this project. All help is appreciated!

Twenty-four Beaumont Boys were brought back home after the war. Twenty-two of them are interred in Magnolia, and two are down the road in Evergreen Cemetery. George Carroll Smart, the first Beaumont Boy to make the ultimate sacrifice, is buried near the flag pole in his family’s plot. Shortly after his death, George’s sister received a letter from Captain T. C. Reid, Commander of the Thirty-eighth Infantry, with details of his death.

“Private Smart died as is only a good soldier’s privilege, namely: facing and fighting bravely our enemies. Private Smart has always shown himself to be a very good soldier, always obeying orders readily and in every way earning the highest esteem of his officers and fellow soldiers; his comrades are to this day mourning the loss of a dear friend and good soldier who gave up his life gladly and bravely while fighting for humanity and liberty.

His grave is located on Moulins Hill, overlooking the river Marne. Our local chaplain placed a cross with his name and number on it and offered a very appropriate prayer over his grave, and I think nearly every officer and man in the company paid his last respect to him before leaving that area. Please accept my deepest sympathy in your bereavement.”

A sad way to learn of your loved one’s death, but George did come home, which somehow brought closure to the family. Others did not get that luxury. Their loved ones still lie somewhere in Europe, never to return.

A few years ago, I was photographing headstones in Magnolia and came upon an old cross with the words “That I Gave, That I Have.” I didn’t learn the meaning of these words until last week when I was in the same area. I was searching for the Minor family plot to see if one of the Beaumont Boys, Farrell Dabney Minor, was ever brought back. As I noticed the cross again, I saw a Daughters of the Texas Revolution medallion on it, so I checked the name. The cross is for Eleanor Minor. Her husband, Farrell Dabney, and she lie side by side. There was no trace of their son Farrell Dabney Minor Jr. Eleanor gave everything she had for the war effort, but he never returned.

Until next week, welcome home, boys.

Thoughts and Ramblings: Not Talking Turkey; Don’t Hit Me with Them Negative Waves; Hans Keiling; Gen Xers; Wings over Houston; Miss Rachel; Lecture Time.

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Wings Over Houston 2022

November is here, and we’re not going to talk turkey all month; you’re welcome. October is a trigger month for me, and I brought up many things that are not technically SETX history, but I guess you get what you pay for on my site. But really, who else would bring up an anime character on a SETX regional history blog? Especially when your target audience is people aged 35–112. I acknowledge that I may not be the brightest star in the sky. Truth be told, I had been waiting six months to bring up Yuuki! And I may not be finished. If there’s ever a time when we can bring up the history of tanks and tankery in general, I will definitely bring up Yukari Akiyama 秋山 優花里 from the Girls und Panzer series. She was a true historian of tanks. Hell, she was a fan of Sergeant Oddball. So, if you disagree, “don’t hit me with them negative waves so early in the morning. Think the bridge will be there and it will be there. It’s a mother, beautiful bridge, and it’s gonna be there. Ok?”

Well, let’s bring up tanks for a moment. If anyone knows the story of who owns the tank that used to be at the Beaumont airport on Highway 90, I would love to hear it, and a ride would be nice.

On Wednesday, I was at Magnolia Cemetery playing hooky from work because that’s what you do when you get fed up, but I’m self-employed, so. Oh well. I was looking for someone’s loved one, who died in 1917. I was also there to meet a friend to talk about the twenty-two World War I veterans brought back and interred in Magnolia. But in my search, I also found another veteran who fought in World War II. I remembered his name and story from a Port Arthur News article in the Jefferson County Historical Commission files.

Hans Max Keiling immigrated from Germany in 1956. His story should be a movie, as he is one of those immigrants who loved this county for its freedom. I wish I had heard how he got here in his own words, but I will use newspaper articles and a friend’s recollection of his speech at the dedication of the World War II prisoner of war camp in China, Texas.

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 twenty-three. He never served in the S.S. In his newspaper article, he stated he only fought the Russians and never faced the Americans. From what I know of the Russian front, it was a nightmare of logistics during which everyone waited for Der Failüre to see how many soldiers would die 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 ended up in Russian hands and was put in a labor camp near Stalingrad, where he spent three and a half years working in a coal mine fourteen hours a day.

From here. I’ll quote the rest of the article, but I find his message of freedom and democracy in many stories of people who were just trying to live their life until some %&*%!& politician screwed it up. (It doesn’t matter which side of the wall you’re on. Don’t hit me with your candidate because if they have a party agenda, they’re the same.)

In 1948, some of the prisoners of war who had special training were sent to East Germany to train “police forces.” Keiling said he had to choose between staying in the coal mines, 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 soon “found out 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.

Nevertheless, 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, receiving monthly “hearings,” then sentenced to 10 years in a slave labor camp.

He was sent to the coal mines in Vorkuta, Siberia, 80 miles above the Artic Circle. Each day, he marched three miles from the barracks to the coal mine, with the temperature usually hovering over at 45 degrees below zero. He was released when Stalin died in March, 1953, but remained in custody of the Russians. He escaped to West Berlin while being transported back to East Germany.

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 his death in 1981.

He moved to Port Arthur, worked as a security guard until 1984, moved to Temple and moved back to Port Arthur last year.

He has returned to work with the same security company, Maritime Guard.

The good-humored but politically outspoken Keiling said he is proud to be an American.

And uses his freedom of speech in what he considers a struggle against the threat of governmental dictatorship.

“In America, people do not know how fast you can lose your freedom,” he said.

Okay, people, just breathe. Your avocado toast is secure! No. On second thought, I’m not going to blame my favorite kiddos, who seem to have no sense of direction. I belong to Generation X and have many quarrels with those who came before me and those who were born after me. We are the disgruntled. I also have a few issues with my kind. As I stated last week, I don’t do Facebook because I have no interest in hearing most people’s “opinions” on things that don’t concern them. However, I did look at the Wings over Houston page this past weekend, and boy was there a bunch of whiners! I went Saturday because I watched the weather report. Yes, it was cloudy, but all my favorites can fly under the clouds. The pyrotechnics crew was also rockin’ for the Tora, Tora, Tora crowd. I will say that everyone did a good job. Sorry to some that the weather ruined your plans on Friday and Saturday, but Sunday was perfect for your jets. On Saturday there was a lot of crap about the Blue Angels flying under the clouds. Again, if you paid extra to be there on Saturday, you should have been aware of the weather, which the weather is nature’s beast. Hell, my photos were taken that Saturday near the port-a-potty, behind the fence of the photographers’ pit. I guess I remain a master strategist. But that damn loudspeaker was always in the way. The photos are not perfect, but you’re welcome!

An odd thing happened when I was searching the vendors to buy a hat. I have caps, but my Lamar Cardinals hat looks pretty much like the American flag on the moon. It’s become crispy from the sun. My other one is a Houston Texans hat that I would wear to work were it not for the fact that people would keep asking me about the team. This is a problem because I have no allegiance to them. I don’t hate them; I just don’t care. To quote Mr. T, “I have no time for jibber-jabber.”

As I purchased my hat, an older gentleman who looked eerily like Jim “PeeWee” Martin, who passed this year, began to explain to me what the Commemorative Air Force hat meant and the Canadian Jet Snowbirds on it. I told him about my experiences at the airshow. Whether it was at the Jefferson County Airport in the 1980s or ‘90s or at Ellington Field, these shows sparked something in me that I hold dear. These were the days when pilots didn’t have computers running the navigation. They were young and went to war for their countries. In the end, many lost their lives to be patriots on both sides; they ended up as cannon fodder.

Photo Credit: www.facebook.com/people/Jim-Pee-Wee-Martin-G506/100044537315053/

I told this man that if it has a propeller, I am interested; sorry for not caring about jets. I’m not against the Blue Angels, Sammie Hagar, or even the Blue Devils, because I don’t follow Duke basketball, but something about the planes from that era inspires me. And they had them this year! As Miss Rachel would say, “Good job” Wings over Houston! If you know about Miss Rachel, then you know! Godsend. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of the page for new parents or grandparents.

Well, the McFaddin-Ward House Museum lecture is on Thursday, November 10, at 6:30 p.m.; if you’re interested, please come. Crossing fingers that I don’t have a General Patton moment like when he talked in front of the Ladies Auxiliary.

Bis zum nächsten Mal, auf Wiedersehen.

Wings Over Houston Photos:  

https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjAd6qu

Jim “Pee-Wee” Martin:

Obit:

https://www.military.com/daily-news/2022/09/13/d-day-veteran-of-101st-airborne-jim-pee-wee-martin-dies-101.html

Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100044537315053

Blue Angels and Sammy Hagar:

Miss Rachel:  

https://www.youtube.com/c/SongsforLittlesToddlerLearningVideos

McFaddin-Ward House:  

Magnolia Cemetery: 1847 to the Present – Where the History of Beaumont Lives

Thoughts and Ramblings: Trick or Treat; Samhain and Día de Los Muertos; Coco; the Sleeping Knights; Blood of the Innocent; Author Tim Collins; and It’s Time for You People to Click on a Link.

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Trick or treat is tomorrow, and I’ve already shared my oral history of that damn kid on 19th street in Port Arthur. Back then, someone was putting razors, poison, and probably bits of glass in Halloween candy. My father warned me about this, and he was there to eat all the suspected candy so I wouldn’t die. Thanks, dad, but you’re eating all the good stuff. I still think that I was robbed.

For me, Halloween always means, Samhain, the Celtic holiday to remember our ancestors and those who have passed. El Día de Los Muertos also has these qualities. Both symbolize the love for those who came before us and our determination to keep their names alive. Because, in the end, that’s what most humans want—to be remembered. As humans, we try our damnedest to keep the names of our loved ones out there. This is why the pyramids were built. It’s also why a loved one will put out a few articles on the deceased’s grave when the family can’t afford a headstone; they honor them by placing things that their loved one enjoyed in life. Most will see them as garbage, but it’s love.

The Disney movie Coco did an excellent job of showing this. I will always treasure that film because it hits you in the heart, or at least it hits mine, because most people tell me I have no soul, so at least I’m good in the heart department. Except my doctor tells me otherwise. It reminds me of my mother-in-law. I know mothers-in-law get a bad rap from some people, but in my case, she was a rock determined to live her own way. This is why I dedicated my first book to her. Would she be happy with its contents? Probably not; the gesture, maybe.

Yuuki Konno

Another story about wanting to be remembered comes from fiction, but it fits perfectly with who we are as humans. Japanese writer Reki Kawahara, who wrote in season two of the Anime Series Sword Art Online, put out the story of the Sleeping Knights. To round up the story in a few sentences, Sword Art Online was an online network where people could compete based on their swordsmanship. It was an online game you could be a visual part of, but the Sleeping Knights were different. In the story, they were hard-wired into the game 24-7 because they were kids in hospice. In other words, they had no future in life, so the game helped them to forget their inevitable demise. One of the characters was named Yuuki Konno, and she beat the best players. As a player who was permanently wired in, she learned her skill well and defeated everyone in her path. Her role in the game was to win a tournament and get to the upper levels so that all the Sleeping Knights would have their names engraved on a wall. As the story unfolded, the Sleeping Knights were helped by another character, and they eventually won, but Yuuki’s health worsened. She eventually died, but not before she managed to get everyone on her team to be remembered. Yuuki never wanted those in the game to find out the truth about her illness, but the main characters discovered it and made sure that all the non-Sleeping Knights were there to show her that they cared for her deeply. Yuuki had lost hope in humanity, but a few individuals were there to show her that her life had meaning and she was loved.

Blood of the Innocent

In 2013, I published a book called Blood of the Innocent. There is a sequel, but I just don’t have time to finish it. In the story, I brought all the characters over here from England because I know our history and area. I could have easily left them in their element, but I didn’t want to write about something I don’t know. The book is available on Amazon, and you can read it for free if you are a Prime member. I have a few signed copies available on my website, and there are a few signed copies at the Art Studio (all the money goes to supporting TASI).

Tim Collins 2013 at the 150th Anniversary of the Battle of Sabine Pass

As I’ve mentioned before, we’ve lost, or at least I have, many friends and colleagues this year. I found out today that Tim Collins—author/librarian/historian/all-out great guy who loved SETX history and his rich Irish heritage—died in April. He was from Galway in Ireland and pretty much did all the research on Richard Dowling of the Battle of Galveston and Sabina Pass fame, who was also from Galway. I met Tim in 2013 at the 150th Anniversary of the Battle of Sabine Pass, and he was a joy to be around. I’m also lucky to have his signed book about Dick Dowling. Tim was special to all who knew him. I got so fed up with most people on Facebook that I never checked it, so I missed the word of his passing. I’m sorry for missing it, but to be honest, I’m only on Facebook because some of you people are too lazy to click on a website link, but I digress.

Fair winds and following seas, Mr. Collins. If I stay alive, I will try to bring out Kate Dorman’s history, as you wanted.

Go dtí an chead uair eile.

Coco Remember Me-  

Yuuki Konno-

Blood of the Innocent-

https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Innocent-P-C-Prosperie/dp/0988884208

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/blood-of-the-innocent/

Tim Collins-

https://afloat.ie/port-news/galway-harbour/item/54028-tributes-to-late-maritime-author-historian-sailor-librarian-musician-tim-collins-of-galway?fbclid=IwAR1GJ-F0EubbkaSJ9nqtzQWffLlIAW7zE6xIP77AyCC2-ZdeBjmH8aGfQZs