Category Archives: Places

Thoughts and Ramblings: We need more Cleo Baltimore’s; Yes, I follow Bigfoot on Dishscapes; Mystery at Hardin County’s Museum; Isoroku Yamamoto in Orange County; Kichimatsu and Taro Kishi offer common sense to a troubled world war.

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Last week, I decided to treat myself to lunch because no one else offered. I went to Billy Joe’s BBQ in Port Neches. I remember my father bringing home plate lunches from there, as Billy Joe’s catered all overtime plate lunches to Jefferson Chemical (Indorama nowadays), and I’ve been hooked ever since. While waiting, I couldn’t help but see the framed newspaper articles on the walls honoring Cleo Baltimore. Until a few years back, if you drove down Magnolia Ave. in Port Neches or MLK in Beaumont, near Lamar University, you might have noticed a guy waving at everyone that drove by—Cleo. It was a simple gesture that meant a lot to many people. Most people who saw him would wave back and honk, acknowledging him. I remember a news reporter who passed down MLK daily and saw Cleo always sitting in front of his apartment and waving to everyone. When Cleo missed a few days because he was out of town, the reporter tracked him down to find out where he was. Again, that simple gesture of waving made a difference to people’s lives.

Photo credit: Port Arthur News

Cleo passed in 2017. He is still remembered by Billy Joe’s BBQ, which has created a scholarship in his name for Port Neches-Groves seniors who enroll in college. In these times of social media, we need to be more like Cleo Baltimore and less like West End Wanda, spewing her venom on Facebook.

Every once in a while, I turn on the TV instead of a computer. Yes, it’s mostly to know what Bigfoot is up to on Dishscapes (people who don’t have Dish won’t get this), or those Cordray kids making history together while restoring Galveston one house at a time. Sometimes I come across other interesting shows, such as Mysteries at the Museum on the Travel Channel. I know they did an episode on the Lucas Gusher at Spindletop, but they should have stayed and done a little digging up north in Hardin County, to be exact, at the Hardin County Museum in Kountze.

Photo credit: www.sfasu.edu

Renee Hart Wells told me this story while I was visiting the Museum a few years back. I’ll put the link to her article at the bottom of this blog (you need to read it!). The mystery concerns a WWII Bataan Death March Medal that was found on a Sour Lake School bus. Rebecca Hill, director of the Bertha Terry Museum, searched for the medal’s Hardin County owner for years, but to no avail. The mystery was finally solved when she brought it to the Museum of Hardin County, where someone looked at it and knew exactly where it came from. It was Grover Lee Will’s medal. Click on the link for the whole story. Better yet, visit the Museum of Hardin County and let Renee tell you the story.

Speaking of museums, the Paul Cormier Museum in Orangefield is definitely worth a visit. There are many interesting things to see at the museum; one item I found particularly fascinating was a photograph. This photograph is also on display at http://hirasaki.net/, which is a website that shares the family histories of Japanese rice farmers who relocated to the United States. Prominent families, such as the Kishi’s, Kondo’s, and Mayumi’s, moved to SETX in 1906 to farm rice. The Kishi’s came to Orange County, while the Mayumi’s and Kondo’s arrived in Fannett. At first, these families were not greeted well. Eventually, though, the locals got to know their new neighbors and warmed up to them.

The Mayumi’s continued to farm here until 1924. However, due to their mismanagement of the land (they didn’t use fertilizer and depleted the minerals in the soil) and the low price of rice, they decided to return to Japan. The Kishi’s, in contrast, stayed and prospered with another “crop” that was unexpectedly found in the ground—oil. With the discovery of oil on his farm, the family’s head, Kichimatsu, became a millionaire overnight and paid off all his debts to the farm’s investors.

The Kishi Family
Front row, left to right: Toki, Moto (wife of Hachitaro), Kichimatsu, Fuji, Taro;
back row: a maid, Hachitaro, Tora, and a cousin. Photo credit: hirasaki.net

In 1923, a boy from his hometown of Nagaoka came calling to see Kichimatsu’s oil derricks. It was Commander Isoroku Yamamoto. Kichimatsu had fought in the Russo-Japanese War with Yamamoto’s brother, Kihachi. The commander was in town with Katsunori Wakasa (an engineer), Commander Kaku of the Japanese Imperial Navy, and Admiral Kenji Ide. The three men were here to oil the fleet, so to speak. Japan was an ally of this country in WWI, but it was not allowed the same tonnage to build battleships as the US or Great Britain. However, the Japanese disregarded this limit and secretly transformed heavy cruisers into aircraft carriers, along with building the two largest battleships ever: the Yamato and the Musashi.

Kichimatsu and his family lived as American citizens, but after Pearl Harbor, he knew that anti-Japanese sentiment would reach its peak. So, that Monday, he turned himself into the FBI in Port Arthur. I guess that’s what you do when you have no idea what just happened but you know how people will react. He spent two months in an internment camp but was released after his hearings because, according to his son Taro, he answered all the questions correctly.

Here is a question the authorities asked Kichimatsu: “If the Emperor ordered you to bomb the oil refinery in Port Arthur, would you do so?”.

Kichimatsu’s response: “First, I am a farmer and businessman and know nothing about explosives. Suppose I was adopted into another family and my biological parent ordered me to harm my adopted family. I could not do so.”

Mic drop!

I have a lot to rant about rounding up US citizens, but I will pass on it here. However, if you see me in person, just ask!

I doubt that Steve M. King, the US Attorney for the Eastern District of Texas who presided over Kichimatsu’s hearing, knew about the visit by the Imperial Japanese Navy’s representatives back in 1923 and 1924. To my knowledge, there were no more visits during the next 17 years.

I will also state that Taro Kishi’s initial plea to form an Asian-American regiment to show their patriotism in fighting the aggressors was a sign of this family’s loyalty to this country.

Well, that’s it for this week. Be more like Cleo, Kichimatsu, and Taro, and the world will be a better place. Ciao

Museum Mystery by Rene Hart Wells : 

https://www.sfasu.edu/heritagecenter/9329.asp

Dishscapes:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/949470342304306

Kishi Colony:

http://hirasaki.net/Family_Stories/Kishi_Colony/Kishi.htm

Thoughts and Ramblings: When the Levee Breaks; The Dutch Come to Paradise and Blanche Morgan’s Journey

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I heard last week that the LNVA canal in Beaumont sprung a leak and flooded some homes. That would have never happened in Nederland because Dutch heritage runs deep in the families’ blood there. It’s summer, and the kids are out of school, and I know one of them would have plugged that hole in the levee without an afterthought, or maybe not.

Dutch Windmill Museum

Speaking of the Dutch, I brought up Arthur Stilwell and his antics last week and, well, the reason many Dutch came to SETX was to “Come to Paradise.” Let’s face it, this area is paradise only to fishermen and mosquitos, especially in 1895, but they came and stayed anyway. In 1895, the Port Arthur Land Company was formed by Dutch bankers/investors who initially financed the construction of the Kansas City Railroad (Arthur’s baby before John Bet-a-million Gates did a hostile takeover and kicked him to the curb). Those bankers advertised a good game, but their palm trees, beaches, and paradise approach were inaccurate. The families that came here endured many hardships. Still, with hard work, they prospered.

This reminds me of another story a blog reader sent me. Blanche Morgan’s journey to this area was sparked by Mr. Stilwell. I’ll put a link to the original article below, but I do want to add her own words here.

It was the first of October, before father had sold all his rent property and our lovely home.  Finally, the day came for he and brother to leave. He kissed us good bye and held mother close to him and said, “Now don’t you worry, I am going to find a place where the sun shines all the time.”

We were lonely without father and brother. Grace and I went to school and finally one day mother received a letter from father which said, “I am on my way south to Port Arthur, Texas. While I was in the depot in Kansas City, Missouri on my way to sell the apple orchard I met a man named Gates and another named Stillwell. I got to talking to them, and what do you know – right across the ticket room hung a canvas which said, “Port Arthur, Texas – the Flower of the South.”  Mr. Gates said the town was close to the sea and was built on Lake Sabine, that it was sunshiny and warm.  He was taking several other men with him to Port Arthur. He bought my father and brother a ticket and said to come on this excursion with him to Port Arthur.  My father gladly accepted the offer and traveled with them.  Port Arthur was not much of a place to live in.

The Journey:

I took along a note book to write down events and things which I saw out of the train car window. Laura, my oldest sister had her pet canary in his cage to take care of. Mother sat back in the car with her eyes closed, and I noticed tears rolling down her cheeks. My youngest sister, Grace, saw them too, and she said, “What are you crying about, we are going to see Daddy.”  I kept up with the stations we stopped at, and watched the people get off and on the train. We reached Albia, Iowa, and changed cars to the Wabash. It was so dark now you could not see anything out of the windows.

Time passed and everyone was sleeping, or lying quiet. I just couldn’t sleep but somewhere between midnight and 8 a.m. in the morning of the next day mother was shaking me and saying, “Gather up your things, we are in Kansas City, Missouri.”  We climbed on a bus drawn by horses and sat up on top, and it was awful cold. The bus took us to the Kansas City Southern Railway station.  We went inside, and there was people from everywhere. We were pretty hungry and mother opened her basket of food and spread out a tablecloth on the bench, and she gave thanks for the food, and for getting this far safely. We were about halfway now, on the road to our new home, a place of excitement, awe and disappointment. If mother had of just known what kind of place we were coming to, she never would have come.

At 12 noon we boarded the Kansas City Southern train for Port Arthur, Texas. We were 2 days and nights on this train, all of us growing tireder all the time. After we left Kansas City, Mo. the snow left and finally the last day, all we could see was farms, hill sides all green, flowers blooming, the sun shining, and it was unbelievable to us, at this time of the year to not see snow and see green trees and flowers blooming.  When the conductor would come through, we would ask him, what kind of place was Port Arthur, Texas. He just grinned, and said, “Oh, I can’t tell you anything, just let it be a surprise.” And believe me, it was a surprise.

On the third night we arrived in Port Arthur, Texas. It was dark and hot for we had on our winter woolens for Iowa weather. The Kansas City station still stands and looks like it did when we first came here. Father and my brother came and helped us off of the train.

Entering of Port Arthur, Texas

As I stepped off the train into the darkness, I was afraid for in those days there was very few electric lights. My brother walked with me, we was going to a hotel to stay all night.  In the dim light I could see one story wood frame buildings, dim lights shining out of the doors and windows. One block away from the station, on Proctor Street on each corner was a saloon.  I heard my mother say, “What kind of place is this, for you to bring your family to.”

In those days there was saloons on every corner. Procter Street was the main street, it ended at Greensport. The streets was shelled and nothing but board sidewalks, with most of the board being loose or gone. As we walked along father warned to watch our step, and not fall on a loose board.  We arrived at the hotel – a one story framed building, were given our rooms. We three girls together, father and mother, a room and brother one by his self.  The air was filled with the odor of the refineries, and we could hardly stand it. We girls finally got bathed and into bed, for we had not slept in a bed for three nights. It felt good and I am sure we never turned over, for all three of us were worn out.

We were awakened by our father who rapped on the door and said, “Come to breakfast.” That is one thing our family always did was have breakfast, and supper together. If one was late from school, the supper was held up until all could sit down together. You talk about a surprise, we were used to creamery butter on our toast and what we had was so rancid we could not eat it. The bacon was all right, but the milk was canned, and nobody in Iowa ever used canned milk. Well, our meal was not eaten. We found out later, that everything had to be shipped in and by the time it arrived here it was too old. As you know there was no refrigeration in those days. You got your ice from the icehouse and had those old ice boxes, that by night fall, the ice had already melted.

The drinking water was tanks of rain water. Every home had a large galvanized cistern attached to pipes from the roof of the house where it was caught and ran into the cistern. All drinking water had to be boiled and all milk had to be brought to a boil.  There was very little sewage. All toilets had a galvanized container in them, that was emptied by negroes who pulled a large tank on a wagon drawn by two horses, down the alley and emptied them into the tank. The odor was sickening, when this was being done.

After we ate breakfast we went for a walk out to the peer. The sun was shining on those white shell streets and it was beautiful. I never saw so many yellow roses as was blooming here then. The peer was a wooden frame buildings, dance floors, band stands, restaurant, but on piling. We walked out there and looked at the lake, which was beautiful, a white sandy beach was all along Lake Shore. This was before the canal was cut through and ruined our beautiful bathing resort.

There were excursions every Sunday who came in to visit our peer, and bathing resort.  Gates and Stillwell had did a good job of advertising of Port Arthur. Boats came in from Lake Charles, Orange, and Port Neches – all tied up at the peer, loaded with men and women in their Sunday best to eat or sit and listen to the Mexican Band who played all Sunday and way into the night.

On our way back from the peer I gathered up some of the shells and put them in a box and sent them to my school teacher I had left in Iowa. Oh – I thought to have streets covered with shells was the most wonderful  thing I had ever seen. As you know people who live away inland never see boats and sea shells in large quantities, like they do when living near the Gulf or Sea.

Sunday finally arrived and we had always went to church. So father, mother, and all of us children went to the Methodist church. It was a 1 story framed building on fifth street. We had left a large brick building with pipe organs, plush seats, and when we entered this church it was quite a contrast. We sang the same hymns and the preaching sounded the same, he was reading God’s word from the same bible I knew, and it made no difference to father, when I heard him say to mother, “God is everywhere, Bless his Holy name.”

I love oral histories and I was thankful to receive this one. Well, that’s it for this week. Any family history stories would be appreciated!
Afscheid!

Blanche’s Journey: An Early Look at Life in Port Arthur https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2014/04/16/blanches-journey-an-early-look-at-life-in-port-arthur/

Tulip Transplants to East Texas by W.T. Block

http://www.wtblock.com/wtblockjr/tulip.htm

Madeline Khan; Remley- Hillebrand and LeBlue Cemeteries; Fatima Sing Hpoo; Wong Shu; Dissing Arthur, and was Mark Wiess a Brownie?

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Smaun and Fatima Sing Hpoo

I’m tired! Not Madeline-Kahn-Blazing-Saddles tired, but tired all the same. Work life and air-conditioned research life are at odds, but we will work through the dilemma, as work life pays for research life.

Remley-Hillbrand Cemetery

During the ongoing Texas Historical Commission cemetery inventory project, we’ve updated the names of known cemeteries in Jefferson County. One problem is when you know of a cemetery that has been bulldozed over the years, and there is no record of its removal. Frankly, there is no record because the bodies were never removed. In Port Neches, W.T. Block wrote of one, and I believe him. I’ll link his article at the bottom of this blog. In the article, you can tell he was ticked off. The Remley-Hillebrand cemetery, located on the Southeast corner of the Dearing and Rachford Streets intersection, was bulldozed and concreted in the ‘40s. W.T. noticed this after he returned from serving in the army during World War II.

This is more common than you think. Remember when I mentioned the fire station on College Street? It was built on land used as a burial ground during the Civil War and following yellow fever deaths. Also, let’s mention Le Blue Cemetery. You can pass over that on past Parkdale Mall, between Dupont Credit Union and Spell Cemetery. Most likely, Le Blue was a part of Spell Cemetery, but it was paved over with no record of removal of the residents. Now you know that when traveling over the LNVA canal toward Lumberton, you are driving through the hallowed ground; hold your breath and hope the residents don’t grab your feet!

One person that is a regular on our Magnolia Cemetery tour is Fatima Sing Hpoo. If you search this name on Google, you’ll see many photos of a Burmese woman who visited Beaumont in December of 1902 but passed away in the Crosby Hotel on December 30th. She was part of a team with her brother, Smaun, both of whom were involved in a show completing gymnastic feats, and the billing stated they were the perfect humans but smaller. Fatima was 22 years old, was 28 inches tall, and weighed in at 15 pounds, and Smaun wasn’t any different in height or weight. The day after, the advertisement in the Beaumont Journal read that Smaun would perform alone. We don’t know where Fatima is buried in Magnolia Cemetery, but we tell her story to keep her name alive.

Another story from inside Magnolia’s borders is that of Wong Shu. I will state that there is a headstone with a “roof” of Asian design near Brakes Bayou. It was always a mystery concerning to whom it belonged, because the writings are Chinese characters. Could it be Fatima? No, because the headstones are distinctly different between Myanmar (Burma) and China. The written characters are different as well. So, a few years back, Mr. Don Smart found an article in the Beaumont Enterprise about a Cantonese sailor who drowned in the Neches. He sailed on the Standard Oil Company tanker Santana. The ship had been docked in Beaumont for some time, on hiatus because of the volatility of the Mexican oil trade. I’ll put his story below. I am almost sure it’s his headstone, but we must do the rubbings and translate.

Thinking about Arthur Stilwell, he was a bit all hat and no cattle. He talked a good game, but if it wasn’t for Bet-A-Million Gates, Port Arthur would have never been built. I’m sure the Scottish Brownies would confirm this, but I’m certain they’re still mad at me for calling them English Faeries in my last blog on Arthur. I do know when I wrote the first draft of “Under the influence of Brownies,” it just disappeared from my computer. Now I know not to engage in politics, especially concerning Scottish and English spiritual entities.

Should I dare call the Brownies’ Mark Wiess, because that’s who tipped off Arthur about buying the land in Port Arthur instead of the Sabine Pass. Those Sabine Pass characters were greedy, and Arthur was a shyster who drafted his books after the fact, but I have no skin in the game, so I will post the links at the bottom of the page.

Like I said, I’m tired, so I’ll leave you fatigued from work life. I would rather be tired from research life, but that won’t happen. Cheerio!

Wong Shu :

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2017/01/03/the-uninvited-guests-the-funeral-of-wong-shu/

Arthur Stilwell: https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2016/02/17/under-the-influence-of-brownies/

Mark Wiess, Not Brownies, Told Stilwell Where to Build by Judith Linsley: https://www.sfasu.edu/heritagecenter/9328.asp

W.T. Block:

http://www.wtblock.com/wtblockjr/smith.htm

Thoughts and Ramblings: Books, Books, and More Books; The Tyrrell Historical Library; W.C. Tyrrell, and Remembering Dave

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Tyrell Historical Library

I just finished a couple of books from Ray E. Boomhower—no, not Boomhauer, the guy from the King of the Hill tv show. I discovered him thanks to an interview on the World War II podcast. Both books are excellent and full of information on what a war correspondent and a soldier went through. Dispatches from the Pacific: The World War II reporting by Robert L. Sherrod and Richard Tregaskis: Reporting under fire from Guadalcanal to Vietnam are right in my wheelhouse of World War II history because they leave the John Wayne-style propaganda out of it. If you add Eugene Sledge’s books, With the old Breed and China Marine, you will truly learn what journalists and soldiers endured during and after the war.

Listen Closely Podcast

Speaking of podcasts, I’ve been enjoying one for the past few weeks, and it’s local. If you’re into podcasts and history, you need to Listen Closely. The Listen Closely podcast is based in Hardin County and is worth your time. Their latest episode is about Beaumont’s own Rita Ainsworth. Other episodes include Arthur Stilwell and my favorite, Olive Texas. I will put the link below.

The Tyrrell Historical Library has always been an excellent place for research. Originally, it was an old Baptist Church, but W.C. Tyrrell bought it and turned it into a library for the city of Beaumont—a true act of philanthropy.

W.C. Tyrrell photo credit: SFASU.edu

Some may recognize W.C. Tyrrell as a prominent name in Beaumont. Captain Tyrrell was born in Pennsylvania in 1847 but moved to Iowa with his family at the age of seven. During his youth, he worked on his family’s farm, which readied him for his business ventures. In 1867, he married Helen Rodrick and started his own farm. He accumulated land and led a prosperous life in Iowa. In 1898, Tyrrell came to Port Arthur to purchase more land. He eventually settled in Beaumont, becoming very wealthy through his investments in the oil industry and other ventures.

As I mentioned, Captain Tyrrell was known for his philanthropy. After Port Arthur was flooded in the 1915 hurricane, he sent 8,000 loaves of bread to the victims. In 1920, he donated 500 acres of land for a park. Tyrrell Park was born. In 1923, he bought the building vacated by the First Baptist Church and donated it to the city of Beaumont for a library in his wife’s memory. Captain Tyrrell also mandated that service be extended to black patrons, so a branch was opened in the Charlton-Pollard High School.

Over the years, I have accumulated many regional books about SETX history. The price varies from book to book, and I will add that most were not cheap, but they are a good source of information for my research. Some of my favorites are the pictorial editions. I can and do spend hours staring at old photos. The Port Arthur and Nederland Centennial history books were done very well, along with Beaumont: A Pictorial History by John Walker and Gwendolyn Wingate, Beaumont: A Chronicle of Promise by Judith Walker Linsley and Ellen Walker Rienstra, and Beaumont 175 presented by the Beaumont Enterprise. I also can’t leave out Hardin County: A Pictorial History by Renee Hart Wells and Hardin County Timeless Treasures by Renee Hart Wells and Nancy Brooks Thompson.

I believe the Port Arthur Centennial books are still available at the Museum of the Gulf Coast, and the Nederland Centennial book was at the Windmill on Boston Avenue. To get the others, you may have to go on eBay or an online vintage bookseller. I’ve put the links for the ones I’ve used at the end of this blog.

That’s it for this week, so I’ll leave you with this post from a 27-year-old guy I knew from Houston, whom I consider a rock star just for being himself. He hated Facebook and was strictly on Google+. He posted this a couple of weeks before he had a cardiac arrest and passed away. After ten years, he is still missed because his words are still relevant. RIP Dave, and sorry for posting this on Facebook.

“If there’s something you’ve been meaning to do for a while, start planning to get it done. If there’s something you don’t want to do – find an honorable way to stop doing it. If someone needs something and you like them and you can more than afford it (and they’re not a needy do-nothing)… give it to them. And for gods’ sake – don’t forget to tell people how much you value them before they keel over and die. Funerals are not a particularly useful time to tell someone how much they meant to you. I notice most people’s fears about death have more to do with regrets than anything else.” – Dave Grega

Listen Closely Podcast: https://www.facebook.com/HTTLISTENCLOSELY

Beaumont 175: The Shops of Midtown @ 3145 Calder Ave Beaumont Texas

Ebay: https://www.ebay.com/itm/223464094365

Abe Books: https://www.abebooks.com/

Museum of Hardin County 830 S. Maple St., Kountze, Texas 77625

Museum of the Gulf Coast 700 Procter St, Port Arthur, TX 77640

Dutch Windmill Museum 1500 Boston Ave, Nederland, TX 77627

THC cemetery inventory project; Ancestry.com; Yearly visit to Sabine Pass, Kate Dorman, the two Sarah’s, and yellow fever; Dissing ghost hunters.

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Kate Dorman Historical Marker

The Texas Historical Commission is currently doing a cemetery inventory project. No, shovels are not involved at this time; what they want to do is clean up their database. On the THC website, there is an atlas that you can access to find information by county. I believe this is a good thing. It shows the names and locations of each county’s known or registered cemeteries. Once the project is done, it will be even better for the genealogy crew.

I wish someone would clean up Ancestry.com. I’ve spent many hours on the site only to sift through entries in which a West end Wanda from Missouri swears that her grandfather, also from Missouri, lived in Beaumont in 1910. The problem is he never set foot in Texas. Of course, my subject lived in Beaumont and could be verified in the census, but they had the same name. However, in true Wanda fashion, it didn’t matter—“that was him.” I guess the moral of this story is: don’t ever let an ex-wife of a cousin be the family historian.

Maybe one day I will do more research on my family. I’ve already discovered a few things and covered some of them, such as the tragedy of the Tugboat Chief. Thinking back, I also have a descendent who died in 1910 but was in the 1920 census. I guess we have vampires in the closet. Maybe this is why some of my family members hate garlic.

Saturday, I visited Sabine Pass Cemetery and ole Kate Dorman. Last week, I said that if there were a Princess Leia in SETX, it would be Sibbie Van Wormer. Well, if there were a General Leia Organa, it would be Kate Dorman. She was a firecracker. Kate took things into her own hands and dealt with obstacles on the fly. She once threatened a small Union Army invading force out to attack the rebel force’s stables and barracks. The invaders had a howitzer but needed a way to move it, so they commandeered Kate’s horse and cart. She told them she hoped the Confederate boys would kill every last one of them before they got back and, if she had 25 men, she could do it herself. I will link to W.T. Block’s article at the bottom of the blog. I have also attached a few videos of a reenactment portraying this event. One thing to note is that Mr. Dorman was also there, and after the federal troops were finished, they returned both horse and cart. Of course, Mr. Dorman was told that if he didn’t keep his wife’s mouth shut, they would hang him. I’m sure there were war crimes on both sides, but no one wanted to have the hanging of a 4-foot plus change firecracker on their books.

Image from the scrapbook of descendant Jessie Plummer. TSHA Online

I will always admire one thing about Kate for another story from the same time. In July of 1862, the yellow fever epidemic hit Sabine as a result of a vessel that ran the blockade put in place by the Federals. At least one thousand people deserted the area, afraid of what was known as the “Yellow Jack”. The fever killed a hundred people in Sabine and Beaumont combined, forty of whom were Confederate soldiers. With her tenants at the Catfish Hotel fleeing and nearly everyone else in Sabine escaping the dreaded disease, Kate stood strong. With no regard for her health, Kate, 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. All three ladies should be given respect for this. Kate is buried in Sabine Pass. Sarah Ann King was buried in the Sparks Cemetery (where the Dupont refinery is today) but was moved with the rest of the 30 people at that cemetery to Forest Lawn in Beaumont. I haven’t found Sarah Vosburg. It seems she disappeared from the area. According to W.T. Block’s article, she was the key to detecting yellow fever because she had had it while living in New Orleans. Each year since 2013, I’ve placed a bow on the historical marker of Kate Dorman’s grave. It’s not political. It’s for Kate and the two Sarah’s who did their part in trying to save lives during an epidemic, while others ran away. Good on them.

I wish it were October and I could bring up Bragg and Sarah Jane Road and rant about ghost hunters and idiots that do EVP sessions in a trailer in Deweyville and say they recorded a grunt from an Indian spirit after speaking English to it. Why would an Attakapas be haunting a trailer in Deweyville anyway? But I digress. This does go on. Stay tuned.

Well, that’s it for this week. I hope all is well, and I also hope you can look after others. Kate would, except if you were Dutch Margaret.

Tugboat Chief: https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2016/05/24/tugboat-chief/

W.T. Block: http://www.wtblock.com/wtblockjr/catherin.htm

Legend of Sarah Jane Road: https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2012/10/23/legend-of-sarah-jane-road/

Legend of Bragg Road: https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2012/10/30/legend-of-bragg-road-saratoga-light/

Thoughts and Ramblings: Gladys City, Blind Willie flying through Interstellar Space, Ye Olde Block Farm, Friendliest City by a Lake, and a Bridge that Beaumont Hates. Happy Father’s Day.

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Has anyone been to Gladys City lately? There is sure a lot of restoration going on. The old wildcatter city is getting a facelift, and it’s been long overdue. Gladys City was built as a Bicentennial project of the Lucas Gusher Monument Commission for the 75th anniversary of the Spindletop. Lamar University dedicated it in 1976. It was intended to be a temporary structure, but they are still holding their own. I will give a massive shout-out to Troy Gray for doing a fantastic job of keeping this gem running.

It reminds me of a book signing I went to at the McFaddin-Ward visitors center during which Jo Ann Stiles talked about her chapter in the book Just Between Us. In it, Stiles talks about her interview with Miss Alice, who lived in the real Glady’s City as a child. Miss Alice reveals both the good and the bad of how things were. This is what you want as a researcher, but the lore and Hollywood often get in the way of historical reality. It is a great book, and there’s a link to it at the bottom of the page.

Big Thicket Outlaws

As I mention Gladys City, I also need to say that the Big Thicket Outlaws have been entertaining folks for years at events in Gladys City and other places. The Big Thicket Outlaws have taken several losses during the past few years. The latest was Earl Keith (Tejano). He passed away in September 2021. He was a treasure that everyone will miss. The Outlaws have done a great job of bringing history to young folks and to us not-so-young folk. Below I’ve added links to past events that the Big Thicket Outlaws participated in at Glady’s City, which I photographed.

Blind Willie Johnson

Straight from the NASA files and Voyager 2, all is well, but the computers in Voyager 1 are troubled by a mysterious glitch. I guess that’s what you get with 1970s technology that’s lasted for 45 years. One thing to add is that both space probes are still working and traveling in interstellar space. To me, this means Blind Willie Johnson’s music has made it out of the solar system and is currently in uncharted territory, along with Beethoven, Bach, and Stravinsky. I’d say this is still a big deal. Blind Willie was a Beaumont preacher who had a music contract with a major label, Columbia Records. Yet he died poor. I have his story below.

Martin Block homestead

Things here on Ye Olde Block Farm are going well after the F-0 tornado decided to attack a few businesses on Nederland Avenue, then move into our area, a few weeks back. It sure seemed to hate water Oaks and some roofs, but it didn’t last long unless you were in its path, in which case it was Hurricane Rita all over again. I’m sure this isn’t the first time this has happened. Martin Block owned and cultivated this old farmland from the 1900s to the 1940s. You might recognize the last name. He was W. T. Block’s uncle. I have a couple of articles from the Beaumont Enterprise from 1927 and 1930 where journalist Dean Tevis spotlighted him in his weekly articles. Back then, old Dean wrote about these farmers like rock stars. It is fascinating to go back and read what things were like in the 1920s and 30s. Those Boll weevils caused many headaches. Dean wrote that Martin had the first truck in Port Neches to deliver his goods to Beaumont. He also had a sugar mill about a block away from his home.

I know that the live oaks were planted by the Block family before 1908, and they are my treasures. On Google Earth, there is a history tab that you can click on to get an aerial view of Jefferson County from 1938. I can see my trees in their blurry magnificence all those years ago. An added tidbit is that the Rowleys also lived not too far from here.

Something that’s been irking me for years involves only Port Arthurans. Why has Port Arthur been known as the friendliest city by the sea for years? You’re next to a lake. I won’t even mention when some committee gave the go-ahead to paint waves on the concrete barrier in the middle of Highway 69, 96, 287, leading into the heart of Port Arthur, then painted over them a few months later because TxDOT can’t even paint waves properly. Oh well, we’re not perfect, but at least some of us know the difference between a lake and a sea. Rant done! I guess we can go back to being friendly unless the powers over that project see this, then my work is done.

This week, the Saharan dust was a sight over the Rainbow Bridge. It was almost like fog. I know this bridge caused a lot of hell before it was built. Beaumont fought hard for this bridge not to be built because that would mean the people traveling from Port Arthur/Groves wouldn’t have to drive thru Beaumont to Orange County. There was a ferry before the bridge, but there were long waits. Beaumont lost and the bridge was built, making all of Mid and South County happy. I should do an in-depth research project on how much mud-slinging went on. I guess it’s water under the bridge. Of course, it is because it’s too darn high. A shout-out to everyone who took their driver’s ed road test over this rainbow because you deserved that license. Also, to the truckers who slapped rearview mirrors when it was a two-way bridge.

I just noticed it’s Father’s Day, so I’ll leave you a Susie Spindletop Weekly Letter entry from June 16, 1929.

MARY AUTRY HIGGINS came along with the epitaph she found somewhere:

Here lyeth the body of WILLIAM STRATTON

buried May 18, 1734

Age 97

Who had by his first wife 28 children

By his second, 17

Own father to 45,

Grandfather to 86,

Great-grandfather to 97,

great great- grandfather to 23…in all 251

***

Happy Fathers Day

Just Between Us : https://www.amazon.com/Just-Between-Us-Stories-Memories/dp/1936205785

Big Thicket Outlaws: https://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/albums/72157635129081778#:~:text=https%3A//flic.kr/s/aHsjHA9m2G

https://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/albums/72157639674774734#:~:text=https%3A//flic.kr/s/aHsjQvQdbb

https://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/albums/72157678910933385#:~:text=https%3A//flic.kr/s/aHskShZMba

https://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/albums/72157692218171835#:~:text=https%3A//flic.kr/s/aHsmdyURxR

Blind Willie Johnson: https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2012/08/23/blind-willie-johnson/

Thoughts and Ramblings: Too fat to put on booties, Pie Face, Seven Oaks, Berthe DeBretagne, Old Sparks Cemetery, moved in the 50s, and thanks to Albert.

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Well, I’ve been dieting again. The main reason is that I couldn’t bend down and put on the booties during the Historic Homes Tour in Galveston. Actually, this makes me think of all the food I grew up eating. There were many good places in Port Arthur, but I stand by my Hartmans, Monceauxs, and Fish Net picks. I also want to mention Pie Face. Her jambalaya was not of this world in the 1990s. This was when she was cooking in the Jefferson City Shopping Center. It was the old Ted’s Record Shop. I know that she was previously located near Church’s Chicken on Bluebonnet. Pork Jambalaya that only an angel from Heaven could have cooked, and sweet tea for $5.

As a kid, my family didn’t travel much. As I stated a few weeks ago, we were the poor sods who ate sandy hotdogs on McFaddin Beach, so I don’t know the appetite of North Jefferson County or even the other counties in SETX. Except for Tyler County, we all know that your Pickett House is almost a religious experience. Our Boondocks was too. What was your favorite dining spot in the counties that make up SETX, and is it still around?

When traveling along Twin-city Hwy, just before the point where Hwy 366 connects to it, you will see seven Oak trees planted back in the 1980s in a circle near the train bridge. TxDOT did not do this landscaping. The tribute to the seven astronauts who perished in the Challenger explosion in January 1986 was made by the Nederland Historical Society. I’ll give a shout-out to William D. Quick for this. When I first heard about the disaster, I was on the same porch where I saw a formation of T-6 Texans all dressed up to look like Mitsubishi A6M Zeros for the Tora, Tora, Tora airshow at the Jefferson County Airport. I also saw Air Force One in 1980. The president was here doing what politicians do. I’m still in awe of the planes but don’t care for politicians unless it’s Winston Churchill. I will go on record to say that I’m pro-peanuts, though.

Last weekend I used my time wisely. It had been a while since I updated my files–what a weekend of filing! Nine months of files uploaded and sent to the database for humanity. You’re welcome. There were many interesting things waiting to be uploaded, such as several Port Arthur News clips of Mrs. Hugo DeBretagne. She was quite a patriot, I believe. If you have followed this blog, you’ve seen me mention Hugo J. DeBretagne. She was his mother. Although I haven’t done an in-depth article on H.J., it remains an ongoing project. Below I offer a storyline for this family and hope to expand it in the future.

The father, Hugo S. DeBretagne, fought in WWI and found a bride in Belgium, named Berthe. After the war, they lived in Port Arthur and had two sons, Hugo J. and James. Throughout the 1920s and 30s, there are many mentions of Berthe DeBretagne giving public speeches or heading the Women’s Auxiliary. Since she was mentioned more than her children and husband, I can only assume that she was a go-getter.

In the 1940s, both sons enlisted and were sent to fight in the Pacific. This is where it gets fuzzy for me as a researcher. I do know that James fought at Guadalcanal, but there is no mention of Hugo. The only information I could find is for the Battle of Tarawa. Hugo J. DeBretagne was killed in action on the third and last day of the battle (November 23, 1943). His brother James survived the war. He died in 2008, but I am yet to find his story. Mrs. DeBretagne continued to be in the spotlight with the Women’s Auxiliary in the newspapers, but in 1946 she divorced her husband and went her own way. I will not attempt to explain this decision because I can’t. It is what it is. Berthe eventually remarried an immigrant from Australia named William George Hay. She is buried near her son’s memorial stone in Greenlawn in Groves, Texas. This is one story I will continue to research.

Sparks Cemetery

Another group of files I uploaded was on the Sparks Cemetery and how it was moved in the 1950s. The cemetery was located on Dupont land between Nederland and Beaumont on TwinCity Highway. The McFaddins owned the ground at the time, and both they and Dupont moved all 30 residents of the cemetery to Forest Lawn in Beaumont. I will give the McFaddins and Dupont kudos for actually moving the bodies to their new resting place. There are many accounts of Beaumont cemeteries simply left underneath sites of urban expansion. I will get into that in the future.

Well, that’s it for this week. I’ll mention that I was surprised to make it in the Out and About with Albert section of The Examiner newspaper for the Memorial Service at Magnolia Cemetery. It’s better than the police beat. Au revoir.

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

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2013/01/23/food-for-thought-in-port-arthur-texas-70s-80s/

Thoughts and Ramblings: Hurakan Season begins, Miss Jack McDonough, Anahuac, Mr. Austin, or Mr. Crowley

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T.J. Chambers House Anahuac Texas

As I mentioned last week, hurricane season officially began on June 1st, sending me to HEB and Market Basket to stock up on several necessities. I currently have ample stocks of Chef Boyardee Spaghetti & Meatballs and Dinty Moore Beef Stew. What’s not well-stocked is the strategic fuel reserve, and I cringe every time I’m at the pump. Hopefully, Jim Cantore and Hurakan will spare us this year.

Around this time, I usually think of Miss Jack McDonough, Postmistress of Sabine Pass (1885–1886). Her memorial is located in Magnolia Cemetery behind the firefighters’ plot. She perished on October 12, 1886, in Sabine Pass. According to family lore, she met her end after refusing to leave the post office until she counted the money and put it in a bag to take with her. Jack’s father, mother, brother, and nephew used a small boat to try to rescue her. As the father and the brother pushed the boat along, it overturned, and Miss Jack, her mother, and nephew were lost to the waves. The bodies of Adalissa (the mother) and Benjamin Foley (the nephew) were recovered, but Jack’s never was. Adalissa and Benjamin are buried in Sabine Pass Cemetery, along with many others who shared the same date. Jack’s father, Benjamin F. McDonough, survived but died two years later in Wallis, Texas. Her brother, Andrew McDonough, also survived; he erected the stone memorial to his beloved sister at Magnolia Cemetery. Their stories are also interesting, but that’s for another time.

It’s been a while since I’ve gone to Anahuac. I’ve passed it on my way to Houston, but to see a few hidden gems, you need to get off the eternal construction zone that the powers that be refer to as Interstate 10. My last trip was around Christmas 2012 when I visited the area with a friend I would call a Texas Historian, Charles Irwin. He has written a few books on Texas history, which I believe are still available for purchase at the Museum of the Gulf Coast in Port Arthur. I have more info about this at the bottom of the page. We visited Heritage Park in Wallisville and had some interesting conversations, then passed the Archie and Effie Middleton House (circa 1906). I would love to tour this house, but it was privately owned at the time. After stopping at a historic cemetery, we visited the Chambers County Historical Commission Museum. More engaging conversations ensued, but the main reason for the visit was the T.J. Chambers House.

A year before, I had taken a different street when leaving work and noticed this glorious upper window that both Stephen F. Austin and Aleister Crowley would approve of. It was definitely made in honor of the Lone Star of Texas, but the Thelemic crowd would also look at it in awe. We were fortunate to have the house opened on our visit, and it was a great experience. All the vintage furniture and the Christmas theme were perfect at the time. The story and tragic murder of T.J. Chambers are also worth hearing. This area played an important part in Texas history. It was the site of the first armed confrontation between the Anglo-Texan and Mexican troops in June 1830. The bluff where Fort Anahuac was built and defended was a site where immigrants were required to pay taxes upon arrival! (In Texas, that did not go well).

I will say this about Charles Irwin: he taught me a lot about Texas history. Yes, I knew the basics from school, but I don’t recall learning that Texas had a navy. Yes, they were poor and couldn’t pay their shipyard repair bill in the New Orleans drydocks, but Sam Houston did a pretty good job of getting things in order in the end. Or was that Stephen F. Austin? Both men are well represented in my files of Southeast Texas history, as they should be. Heck, Florence Stratton was even related to SFA by the marriage of a cousin and some fuzzy math that I don’t want to get into right now. Only the Bryan family could explain it, and this is why I need to visit the Bryan Museum in Galveston.

The memorial service at Magnolia Cemetery that we held the Saturday before Memorial Day went well. I was very impressed with all who participated—especially the young scouts and the color guard. It gives me hope for the future. I know from a reliable source that this was the first time that a Memorial Day service was performed in Magnolia Cemetery. Things are looking up, and it won’t be the last one.

We are also planning on identifying all the veterans in the cemetery. This is called the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Veteran Recognition Project. It is a massive undertaking since the cemetery has around 30,000 residents. If you have family in Magnolia and they served, please get in touch with us.

rediscoveringsetx@gmail.com

Well, that’s it for this week. Go visit Anahuac, whether you’re on the SFA bandwagon or in Crowley’s bunch.

Miss Jack McDonough:

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2017/02/21/tales-from-hallowed-ground-miss-jack-mcdonough/

Rediscovering Anahuac/Wallisville:

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2012/12/31/rediscovering-anahuac-wallisville/

Chambers County:

https://wallisvillemuseum.com/

Charles Irwin’s books:

Charles Irwin

Unheralded Texas Heroes ISBN: 9781935377009

The Creed Taylor Story ISBN 978-1-4675-4458-0

Peerless Texas Empresarios ISBN 978-1-4675-4760-4

Benjamin Franklin Highsmith (Alamo Courier 1836) ISBN 978-1-4675-8482-1

https://www.museumofthegulfcoast.org/museumofthegulfcoast

Thoughts and Ramblings: Candy Lady, Whine, Little League, and Memorial Day

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The 48th Annual Galveston Homes Tour is a wrap, and I hope everyone had a chance to visit the beautiful houses. There were more long lines than in some previous years, but it was certainly worth it for some homes. As a gatekeeper, I am the one you usually meet first, and I can say we had one great bunch of people visiting the cover house. You were great because some things went wrong, especially with the technology, but we all soldiered on. One thing to remember for next year is that you MUST keep hydrated during the tour. Free water stations were available in all the houses this year, and I’m sure it will be the same next year, so there is no excuse: hydrate! If you visit the home I volunteer at, you will also find candy for an extra boost. The candy is donated by Beverly Davis (you might know her as the “candy lady” on the tour). Beverly is in charge of our group, and she is incredible. I have volunteered with her for a good many years now, and I’m already looking forward to the next.

Every Monday morning, I drive to a work site through Orange County, which takes around 30 to 40 minutes. Al and the gang on 560 KLVI usually blare on the radio until I get to the site; Sirius XM follows. Why KLVI? Probably because I’m used to a little whine on my daily commute. This Monday I heard that the Cincinnati Reds baseball team pitched a no-hitter. I should be ecstatic because in the 70s that was my team! For all you Astro fans, y’all were the farm team for Cincinnati. I know this because we used to go to the Astrodome every time the Reds were in town for a doubleheader and watch them sweep. (But I will always love Jose Cruz.) They also stole many of your players, but I digress.

The Seagull 1918

I mention this because Cincinnati pitched a no-hitter and lost, which brings me back to when I played in the Bellaire little league for Duraso Pharmacy. We weren’t the most athletic of sorts. There was no name for the team other than the company that sponsored us, so we named ourselves the Dirty Pigs because of the DP on the hat. (Shocking that a group of 10-year-olds would do that.) Our team was involved in a no-hitter, but unlike Cincinnati, we had one pitcher. I don’t remember the strategy, but either our pitcher or the coach, who was usually intoxicated, decided to wear out the other team by walking them. We lost 9-2. I’m really surprised that we managed to score two runs.

Memorial Day is coming up, which usually confuses me. Not the reason, but the date. I’m aware it’s linked to European history and World War I, but for us it goes back to the Civil War. The day was known as Decoration Day because both the North and the South poignantly put flowers on the graves of the fallen. Usually, the women tended to the graves because the men were lying underground. This wasn’t a good scenario for either side. All who were left did what they could. In my opinion, it’s good to look back at history, especially to learn from the past. George Santayana once said, “Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

Magnolia Cemetery has a memorial service on Saturday, May 28. It’s just a way to remember all the veterans who didn’t make it home and thank them for their sacrifice. We also include all the veterans that came back and lived great lives, but have passed. It’s a small service from 11 to 12. I hope you can make it. We are also working on a database of veterans buried at Magnolia Cemetery. This is a big project because the cemetery has about 30,000 residents, and half of them served in some form or another.

Speaking of veterans and Memorial Day, my friend and fantastic finder of things, Don Smart, gave me a 1918 edition of the Seagull. I’ve talked about this before. The Seagull was the high school yearbook of Port Arthur High School. Since this edition is from World War I, I want to delve a little deeper into its pages. I love these old books.

I guess I should up the ante on researching old cemeteries. I do know that the Lewis Cemetery hasn’t been seen since 1932. In Mildred Wright’s cemetery book, it is located between 19th and 23rd streets. To my knowledge, it was never moved, so if you live 200 yards north of the Olive Garden in Beaumont, you may not want to put in a pool. I might also throw in the old Civil War Cemetery under Fire Station One. Apparently, that cemetery was also never moved, and yes, it was haunted.

Until next time, stay hydrated—my old Little League coach did.

Cheers!

Thoughts and Ramblings: Scary Trees, Kishi Colony, Lucian Adams, and a Rant

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I believe we’ve lost a few friends. If you’ve ever traveled down Highway FM 105, west of FM 1442 in Orange County, you might have seen some odd old trees. They looked like they would be perfectly at home on Almira Gulch’s land in Kansas/Oz, ready to grab Dorothy and her little dog “too.” I love Margaret Hamilton. They were Camphor trees planted by Toraichi Kishi, brother of Kichimatsu Kishi, who immigrated from Japan to farm rice. These trees were registered with the Texas Forest Service at some point, and according to the TAMU website, one of them was on the Texas Big Tree Registry. Now, only one colossal tree is left. The others sadly succumbed to the freeze of February 2021. These trees were apparently planted in the 1910s.

Growing up, we had a Camphor tree. When I was 7 years old, the plant was my link to traveling the seas on a boat called the Westwind. Thinking back, I have little knowledge of the TV show, but I do know that my Camphor tree smelled better than that yacht from the 1970s.

Speaking of the Kishis, a few years back, I came across a scrapbook filled with newspaper articles from the 1940s at an estate sale in Port Neches. Its owner, Miss Davis, kept many articles leading up to and during the war. One was a Beaumont Enterprise article about a young man named Taro Kishi, an American born into a family of Japanese descendants (a Nisei). His words in the article spoke of patriotism and wanting to fight against the aggressors of the United States. Still, the U.S. military was not recruiting Japanese Americans at this point. Eventually, the 442nd Regimental Combat Team was formed with Japanese Americans and fought in the Italy campaign.

As I mention the history of WWII and the Italy campaign, I have to bring up Lucian Adams from Port Arthur. He was one of twelve siblings: nine boys and three girls. Eight of the boys served during the war, and fortunately, all of them returned home. Lucian carried out many heroic acts. The first one was during the landing at Anzio, where he knocked out an enemy machine-gun position, leading his unit to advance. Lucian earned a Bronze Star for this. During another campaign in France, he knocked out three machine-gun nests all by himself, two using grenades and the other one with his Browning Automatic Rifle. For this, he received the Medal of Honor. There go a couple of tales from my “Greatest Generation file”—because they were our greatest generation!

I’ve volunteered for many organizations and will continue to do so in the future, but I am a bit irked at a few non-profits in our area. In the past, I’ve had a couple of bad experiences with these Wine and Cheese factories that communicate nice messages about supporting “our history” but treat their volunteers like cannon fodder. Admittedly, the organizations I refer to have gotten rid of the people in charge at the time, but I still have no desire to become one of their winos. I will not mention the organizations here, but if you ever see me out on the street, I would love to tell you about the dark side of this history.

My real gripe here is that someone takes time out of their life to help your non-profit, and you, as the organizer, are being well compensated. I do believe these people should be paid, but please treat your (unpaid) volunteers with respect, and know that if it weren’t for them, your organization would cease to exist. Treat us right, and we will come; treat us wrong, and you will die a horrible death.

Well, I had a whole other rant about volunteers being given a 3×5 card of historical information, but low and behold, I was just emailed three pages of facts about the house I’ll be volunteering at. I like whoever is the powers that be currently. Things are looking up. Hope to see you in Galveston this week and next. Even you, Wanda. Just wear comfy shoes. No heels!