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.
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.
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.
Our 2nd Annual Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour was this week, and I would like to thank everyone who came out and supported us. It’s always a free event, and we strive to improve it. We have a lot of great people volunteering their time to bring out the history of both Beaumont and Southeast Texas, and we are blessed to have them.
Art of Unliving Beaumont Enterprise
If you missed the event but want to take the tour, then you are in luck. In November, we will be part of the McFaddin-Ward House Museum’s lecture series. Our lecture is on Thursday, November 10, at 6:30 p.m. Two hour-long tours will be conducted on Friday, November 11. These will be walking tours, and they will cover the same ground as the ones held in October. You will need to sign up for the tours with McFaddin-Ward House; check their website for further details. I always enjoy the walking tours because we can cover more history.
On Halloween of 1985, Port Arthur News staff writer Cynthia Cook ran a story about a Beaumont Witch that she fictitiously named Wanda. Don’t worry; this Wanda was from the North End, and who I did correspond with. At the time, her other sister from the West End was too busy griping about those “Blue Devil” Smurfs taking over the children‘s souls while they watched the cartoon to notice me. All I will say is that it never ends well for Wanda of the West End.
It was a decent article, but the historical claims made by the reporter were sketchy at best. Even so, Wanda was a good person. I wrote to her because, in the article, she called herself a White Witch, which translates to healer in the old country. If you were to apply the term nowadays, she would be classified as more of an Appalachian Granny Magic Witch. Yes, that is a thing. To be precise, I thought of her as being more in the New Age movement and not as a witch per se. She was very positive and yearned to help however she could.
At that point in life, I was into English history and obsessed with a book by Elizabeth Goudge called The White Witch, published in 1958. I tried to write a few of my own, not very good, stories. These were historical fiction from a place I’d never visited. Nonetheless, I was determined. I told her of my interest in English/Welsh history, and she referred me to a book by Evangeline Walton called The Song of Rhiannon. This was part of a four-book epic based on the Mabinogion. The Mabinogion, based on old oral legends, was written between 1050 and 1225 by Christian monks. It was translated into English by Charlotte Guest in 1838, although William Owen Pughe did translate a few stories in journals in 1795, 1821, and 1829. These were the stories left over after the Arthurian legends we know today as the story of King Arthur.
Some of you may recognize Rhiannon from Stevie Nick’s song. Yes, this is the same story, but Rhiannon wasn’t a witch. She was a goddess in the Welsh pantheon. Who knew that Wales had a pantheon like the Greeks and Romans? (Rant incoming.) Hell, the Welsh can’t even get a different shade of color on a map of the UK, which I know ticks them off. Well, this year is different, because guess who’s in the World Cup? This should be interesting. #Cymru. Sorry for the excess “Welshyness.” (Is that even a word?) I’m sure my editor will be annoyed at me for that, but 40 years of pain supporting the Three Lions (England) has taken its toll.
I learned from Wanda that it doesn’t matter what your story is. Put it out there. And I did, 28 years later, by publishing a book. I will get into that next week. I often wonder what happened to Wanda and hope her life is still positive. As for Wanda from the West End, she is currently up in arms about trying to block Bette Midler from sending curses through her television. Sistas! She never stops.
Up until a few years ago, I would visit Oak Bluff Cemetery in Port Neches, and I always wondered why there were no trespassing signs near the bayou. Then I googled a KBMT News story that happened. Apparently, someone showed up with a camera and took a fuzzy picture of Bigfoot throwing rocks on Refinery land. I will say that that hairy beast has neither a TWIC card nor an ISTC badge. This means that he is unauthorized to be on that property. And yes, he will suffer the consequences. That being said, I do not believe that Bigfoot was throwing rocks at Oak Bluff Cemetery. Though there was that one time when something showed up at the Sabine lighthouse.
There is an article in the Port Arthur News dated October 31, 1984, by staff writer Peggy Slasman. Slasman had interviewed a Port Arthur resident whose father was the Sabine lighthouse keeper in 1905. The story began as the fog rolled over the marsh, and the lighthouse keeper’s 10-year-old daughter stepped out on the porch to enjoy her favorite time of day. Unfortunately, this morning was different. The silence of the early morning was broken by movement in the marsh. She peered out over the railings, wondering what could be lurking near, when suddenly, she saw something so terrible that she screamed and fainted.
Her parents later found and revived the child. Both dismissed their daughter’s story as a figment of her wild imagination, but they couldn’t help but notice her obsession with her tale.
A month later, the lighthouse keeper was hunting in the marsh when he heard movement in the reeds. He crouched down and stared in the direction of the sound. To his dismay, before him stood an eight-foot-tall, hairy, dark, ugly “thing,” which scared the lighthouse keeper so much that he ran toward the safety of the lighthouse, forgetting his loaded rifle in his haste.
The monster was seen by others 12 times that year, but it never harmed anyone. Most Sabine residents believed it to be a bear, which is indeed quite possible, but one can only speculate. That same year, a storm flooded the marsh, and the beast was supposedly drowned or washed out to sea. However, according to Slasman’s article, some say it still lurks in the marsh. I have no idea, but whether it’s Bigfoot or Kisselpoo, those mosquitoes are brutal.
Next week, it’s time to Niitakayama Nobore at Ellington Field in Houston. These people put on a great event. I’ll leave a link to it.
Until next week, keep your cauldrons close, and don’t let Wanda of the West End near it.
On Monday, I drove to Houston, and the weather was perfect. I can imagine unicorns and butterflies frolicking together in perfect harmony, but you people in Houston are a different breed. I will ask how you can strategically shut down all the major highways during morning rush hour when there is nothing in your way. At least there is I-99; it’s out of the way, but I cringe when I have to drive to the other side of Houston. By the way, I will go ahead and say that Buc-ee’s BBQ sucks. Sorry/not sorry, but it’s the best place to go to the bathroom, and the banana bread is good.
Ruth and Florence Chambers
Back in 2015, the Beaumont Heritage Society did its annual Florence Chambers birthday celebration. Florence was born in 1912 and lived in the same house her whole life. As I’ve said before, this house/museum is my favorite because it’s a house that we could live in without millions of dollars. The story of the two sisters—Ruth and Florence—is an excellent historical view of women succeeding in life at a time when most said they couldn’t function unless they were married. Visit the museum, take the tour, and enjoy their story.
That year, the actor who played Homer Chambers (Papa) couldn’t attend the event, so they decided to reenact the funeral of Papa Chambers. Broussard’s Funeral Home provided the casket, and the event went well. I even have a photo of the ghostly images of a few women walking in the background in a time-lapse. I saw at the time that the picture looked ghostly, and I even asked a friend who knew the Chambers sisters to look at it. I said, “Hey, this could be the Chambers sisters,” but she shut me down immediately, responding, “Not in those heels!” Reenactor problems, but gold to me. Everyone did a great job that night, as they do every year.
Well, it’s the second week of October, which means it’s time to carve turnips! Back in the old country, there were no pumpkins to carve, so turnips were initially used. I’ve been doing this for a few years now, and those turnips are a bit hard to cut, but we will prevail. I’m not an artist, but the finished product is usually placed in my office and the living room for everyone to enjoy, but I see a trend of people not visiting during this time. I guess a house that smells like turnips is an acquired taste.
The origin of pumpkin carving for Halloween began in Ireland with the legend of Stingy Jack. Jack was not a good man; not only did he screw up his life, but he also screwed up his afterlife. Hearing the story of Stingy Jack and his worthless life, I put him in either the Senate or Congress. It’s pretty bad when even the devil feels for you. I’ll leave a link below to the story and a video as well. The video is well done—it’s by an independent film producer named Gary Andrews.
Last week, I spoke of my article about the Legend of Sarah Jane that blew up in the past. My article about Bragg Road was no different. Although it didn’t surpass the views of the first one, I saw that people were interested in this lore. Before getting into the story, I would like to make a plea to whoever is using the nice signage for target practice: please point your shotgun somewhere else, because we don’t need that kind of stuff.
Bragg Road is different from Sarah Jane Road because there may be something there. As I said in the blog, I did see the light, but not close, as most people seem to tell me happened to their acquaintances. I have yet to talk to someone who has seen the light in front of them or hovering over their car. It’s always a cousin, friend, or neighbor. That don’t work for me, so it is ongoing research on what it might have been.
I’ll leave a link to the article at the bottom of the page, but this was kind of the first time that we tried to do a logical paranormal investigation. It was the 1980s, and no Ghost Adventures TV show existed. (And that was a good thing!) What did exist was Loyd Auerbach’s book ESP, Hauntings and Poltergeists: A Parapsychologist’s Guide Handbook. So, we tried to document who, how, and what was traveling down that night’s eight-mile stretch. I will say that Paul Newman (not the actor/salad dressing king) did an excellent job of figuring out if the light we saw was a vehicle traveling down the road by brushing the tire tracks off the road. So, we knew just how many cars had passed. But the conclusion was a light that looked like an oncoming train. It never got close to us. It’s still a mystery. If you have a story and you’re not related to West End Wanda, then email me at rediscoveringsetx@gmail.com.
One thing I will always promote is the cemetery tours on Broadway in Galveston. Author Kathleen Maca does these tours, and she literally wrote the books on the cemetery. I’m excited for our upcoming tour of Magnolia Cemetery on the 20th and 22nd, and if you get a chance, the historical knowledge of Kathleen on the residents of the cemeteries on Broadway is a treasure that you shouldn’t miss. She also has ghost tours on the strand. I’ll leave her info below.
October is here, and Fall is upon us. I’m not going to talk about Pumpkin Spice, but I may mention The Great Pumpkin if triggered because Linus was always the smart one of the bunch, although Marcie would have probably made a good researcher—I digress.
According to Celtic/European legends, the veil begins to thin from the two worlds at this time of year, but as a child growing up in Port Arthur, I just wanted candy. Everything was good for the most part, but when I was trick-or-treating as a child, I had to make explicit gestures to a kid at the Church of Port Arthur on 19th street because he was trolling his “You are going to hell because your parents won’t let me have candy” scenario. Story below!
It’s also that time of year when newspaper reporters come out of the woodwork and search for a few of us to play on Halloween-themed articles. I get it, but I don’t envy them for having a deadline. I post weekly, but as I’ve stated before, I don’t make money from this blog, so sometimes you’re not getting much. There are a few haunts, stories, and legends that I will get into this month, so tag your favorite one, new-to-this-area person on the local news beat, and possibly launch your career, with my info. Good luck and Godspeed, new journalist.
Back in 2012, when this blog began, I did an article on the Legend of Sarah Jane Road, and it blew up. At the time, I was getting a few hits a day, but the website was new, and a regional history blog is as niche as it gets. Well, one day, for some reason, people began to share the article throughout the world. In twenty-four hours, it had reached nearly 12,000 views from Russia and Malaysia to South America. It wasn’t a great article, but many SETX ex-residents worldwide remembered their own version of this story. That’s fine with me, but I stand with Mr. Block on the fact that the Port Arthur News reporter doing his theme at Sarah Jane Block’s expense is fiction. Speaking of Mr. Block, I’ll link to the article and his website because he did a few spooky/entertaining stories around this time of the year.
Last week I brought up Bessie Reid and her story of Kisselpoo. When researching Mrs. Bruce Reid (as Florence Stratton always referred to her in her weekly letter), I stopped by the Museum of the Gulf Coast to get copies of the information that Sarah, the curator at the time, had on Mrs. Reid. While we waited for the printer to finish, I noticed that some of the exhibits had been moved from the first to the second floor. I also noticed that the Evelyn Keyes exhibition was now on the second floor. So, knowing that Evelyn died in 2008 and that the Aladdin lamp in the exhibit contains some of her ashes, I asked, “How does Evelyn like her new home?”. The printer immediately jammed. I don’t know if Scarlet’s sister jammed that printer, but I assume she was not pleased. I’ll add that Evelyn Keyes left Port Arthur at age three when her father died, but she stayed in touch, unlike other celebrities that y’all put on a pedestal, so she’s alright in my book.
The Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour is planned and ready. The dates are Thursday, October 20th, from 4:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. and Saturday, October 22nd, from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. The tour is free and will feature some old and new names. This tour is a history tour of the deceased residents of Beaumont. There will be ten speakers on Thursday and nine on Saturday, so come out and listen to the history of the cemetery residents.
Until next week, slán go fóill.
Halloween on 19th st in Port Arthur
When I was growing up, October was special to me. Not only is it my birth month, but it was also a time of great joy. CavOILcade was still something to look forward to, and toward the end of the month we would always anticipate trick-or-treating down 19th Street with keen enthusiasm.
I vaguely remember my sisters telling ghost stories in the living room. (Does anyone remember the man with the golden arm?) Just when the spooky part would happen, Tiger, our cat, would jump up onto the air-conditioning window unit outside and scare the hell out of us. I loved that cat!
Trick-or-treating was special. We would walk down 19th Street to the train bridge, knocking on doors and waiting excitedly for our treats. Of course, not everyone enjoyed this time. There was that fly-by-night church (if I recall correctly, it was called the Church of Port Arthur) where some kid who looked to be 10 years old yelled at us that we were all going to hell. I promptly responded, “And a fun time we will have!” He didn’t respond. I guess that was the only thing he had been taught to say.
For the most part I did have a good time haunting 19th Street in my cheap Casper costume. I will say though that that damned rubber band on the bargain-basement mask never lasted the whole night, but it made it as far as the house where candy was consumed with great relish. I guess in all honesty I wasn’t a friendly ghost. Just ask the 10 year old at the Church of Port Arthur.
I also remember this was the time when there were stories of some candy being tainted with horrible things, such as razor blades. My father was first to make sure that the candy was safe and edible. Of course he took it upon himself to eat each candy where the wrapper had been slightly disturbed. Even at a young age I could figure this ploy out.
Halloween was special while I was growing up. We had fun in somewhat dark times, but all in all, it was a joyful time in my life, and now I would like to commemorate those who made this time a hoot! Even that poor 10 year old. I hope that in his later years he found greater happiness than that derived from yelling at children who were looking for candy.
My taste in music has changed over 50+ years. I will say that I can listen to most things. In the 1970s, it was probably anything that my sisters listened to. Yeah, some Cliff Richard devil woman or Paul Revere and the Raiders. I remember a few things: taking a record player outside and listening to it while sitting in a lot, next to an ash tree that was struck by lightning twice within a year. History tells us that is odd, but that’s what happened. Not me sitting in a lot, but lightning striking a tree twice.
Blizzard of Oz
The first concert I attended was an English guy that had a band with a great guitarist named Randy Rhoads. He was a bit naughty and had a severe drug problem. In his stupor, he apparently enjoyed eating doves at the record label meetings. One time, one of his fans threw him a bat on stage, so in his element, he partook of this fowl delicacy. The publicity was enormous, but I’m sure that those rabies shots in the torso hurt. It was a great concert. There is footage of Randy Rhoads doing a sound check and an interview with the singer, Ozzy Osbourne, on YouTube. I’ll put the links for both videos below.
Randy died a month later in a plane crash, which I’ve always thought was a significant loss to music. Yes, Eddie Van Halen was doing similar things on the guitar, but Randy was classically trained and probably would have ventured further if he had had the chance. As far as Ozzy is concerned, he is still alive and remains healthy, while every other bandmate he has had is dying of some disease. I guess he’s well preserved.
Chambers House Museum
I started my journey through SETX history in 2012, and it’s been a treasure trove of information. I guess it started by clicking on a Chambers House Museum link on my computer. I will say that the Chambers House has always been my favorite museum in Beaumont, not because of the glorious richness in it, but for the simplicity it brings. This is the house where your grandma could have lived—not mine, because she was happy on 18th street in Port Arthur, near her church. But I’m sure that her five boys and one girl would have loved the room of a two-story house. Instead, they had to deal with a 600-sq. ft., two-bedroom one bath priced on Zillow at whoever knows nowadays. There are many unique sites to see there; if you know the stories, it’s even better.
Florence Stratton
I bring up the Chambers House because I need to shout out to Ginny, who used to work there. She was the one who introduced me to Florence Stratton in 2012, and boy, what an adventure it’s been. Florence intrigued me, so I spent ten years researching her. This is why I only post my Thoughts and Ramblings on Sunday mornings—as a tribute to her, because her Susie Spindletop Weekly Letter hit the pages of the Sunday Enterprise from February 28, 1926, to January 23, 1938. I’ve spent many hours (and dollars) researching her, and I can say that it’s been worth it for history on different fronts.
Another person who has intrigued me is Catherine Jeanette Stengele. I learned of her story from a friend while photographing headstones in Magnolia Cemetery. According to him, Catherina was a seamstress who saved all her money and who, upon her death, had paid for an impressive mausoleum as her final resting place. I found this story odd because a lowly seamstress would never make enough to afford a mausoleum that covers 12 plots. So, the research began.
Early Beaumont was home to an entrepreneur in the form of the Dutch-born youthful Miss Stengele. According to her naturalization form, she arrived in this country in 1884, spent a few years in Baltimore learning the millinery business, and then moved to Beaumont in the late 1880s. The form also shows that she was born on February 28, 1856, and not 1866, as stated on her mausoleum. (I suppose that some people need to hold on to their youth even in death.)
Miss Stengele was certainly competent in the world of business. As a single woman in the 1890s, she made a good living with her millinery business and other ventures in the financial and real estate sectors. She had the help of lawyers for living trust claims and property claims, which also seemed to work well for her. Miss Stengele was so successful in finance that she placed an ad in the Beaumont Journal in May 1899 stating that she was “Going to quit the business! I am going to quit the millinery business, and from the date will sell my entire stock at very low prices.”
Catherina Jeanette Stengele seemed to be a natural when it came to finance and the lending market. So much so that she quit her day job, so to speak. Her investments would even finance a return trip to Europe in 1901. See the article in the Beaumont Enterprise dated January 6, 1900.
You may notice the name Stengele Building highlighted in yellow above the article. Miss Stengele also owned a three-story brick building at 345 Pearl Street in Beaumont, which had housed her millinery shop as well as several of her tenants.
Although the records from 1900 until her death in 1909 tell the tale of a successful businesswoman, not every investment she made went according to plan. For instance, around 1905–1906, court proceedings show the bankruptcy of a rice farm in Langhorne in which she held a $20,000 stake.
In April 1909, Miss Stengele left Beaumont for Los Angeles because of an illness. An article from the Houston Post dated September 16, 1909, states that she “underwent two surgeries for appendicitis during the summer.” Unfortunately, Miss Catherina Jeanette Stengele passed away the day before the article was printed, on September 15, 1909.
I found a few articles from the Beaumont Journal that reviewed the highlights of her life and the aftermath of her death, but her will is undoubtedly of considerable interest. According to hearsay, she was at odds with one of her brothers and left him nothing, though technically that’s not true. Browsing through her will, I found that she did leave a detailed list of her heirs and her final wishes. Her wish for the St. Catherine of the Wheel statue was originally included in the first draft of her will in 1908, but the mausoleum was only added in May 1909. She had many family members, both locally and in Holland, to whom she bequeathed her wealth. Her assets were around $120,000. That’s the equivalent of $3.1 million today. Not too bad for a lowly seamstress—or should I say, a milliner?
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!
Watching the Kate Dorman Scenario video that I uploaded to YouTube from the 150th Anniversary of the Battle of Sabine Pass brought back many memories last week. I hadn’t watched it in ages. The year in question (2013) was special because of many people who planned the event behind the scenes. It was a big deal as most battles were recognized and promoted. At the time, I was learning photography and filming. I was not an expert, but I did what I could for those who would be interested in the future.
Ron Strybos and Darlene Mott Dick Dowling Days 2012
One thing I will say about reenactors is that if you want to know the reality and life of a period, you need to talk to a reenactor and not a historian. I know many reenactors, and I am blown away by how much research these men and women do. They also volunteer their time to teach us about interesting stuff.
A few weeks ago, I mentioned Earl Keith, who passed in September 2021. Ron Strybos, who portrayed Colonel Crocker in the video, was a great reenactor, actor, and all-around good guy. He also reenacted at the Battle of San Jacinto in April. This is one event that I wanted to see him in, but I couldn’t; either I was working or the grounds were flooded that year. Ron passed in June of 2021. I wasn’t close to these men, but dammit, it hurts when you lose two people who gave everything for historic preservation and education. Many other reenactors have left us over the past year, and we will miss them all.
The Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour Part Deux is in the works. I can’t help but recall the planning of a Cemetery Tour in 2017 that never happened because of Hurricane Harvey. Things were getting a little like Game of Thrones. He killed this guy by accident but was murdered 13 years later by his incompetent friend. Some of this research will be on display on our next tour, but I do want to say that our tour is educational; it is not a ghost tour, as the Beaumont CVB put it. I’m glad that the Beaumont CVB has since updated their website and does not mention us at all. I find things like this hilarious because I make zero dollars from this blog, but some of the people at these local websites have a salary and they haven’t updated the sites in four years. And now, with the rant done, I want to get into the weeds.
Orlo G. Greeves
Someone once asked me who these people were and how they could afford these big mausoleums. They were looking at the Greeves Mausoleum, not too far from Rush B. and Aurelia Norvell’s Mausoleum near the office. I have researched both Rush B.and his wife, Aurelia. In 2017, I looked into Orlo G. Greeves and found that this impressive mausoleum was erected after his death in December of 1920.
Orlo George Greeves was born in Orange County in 1887, but most of his early years were spent in Beaumont. He attended the Peacock Military Academy in San Antonio for a short time, then left the city to go to the Texas Agricultural and Mechanical College (Texas A&M).
In 1905, Greeves returned to Beaumont and entered the business world with a job at the Lumber Machine and Equipment Company. In his obituary, it was noted that the company “has grown until it is one of the largest of its kind in the South.” He was also a director of the Texas Bank & Trust Company and the former president and vice-president of the Beaumont Baseball Association, along with many other civic and business interests.
Unfortunately, Mr. Greeves met his end while hunting near Raywood, in Liberty County, with his friend Hubert B. Oxford, who was married to Sibbie Van Wormer’s daughter Sadie. As the story goes, both men were walking back from a hunt to a friend’s home one Sunday evening when Hubert’s shotgun accidentally discharged, killing Greeves instantly. Oxford managed to carry Greeves’s body for a few feet, then summoned friends from the house to help. The sheriff and the coroner were called, and an inquest was held. The death was ruled an accident.
I believe this was true, not because all of his descendants are lawyers, but because accidents happen—I guess. Unfortunately for Hubert, thirteen years later, he was at the beach and a friend who always needed money shot him in cold blood. All the facts are available in Beaumont Enterprise records. A hundred people got subpoenaed for that trial, even Florence Stratton.
Well, I got through this blog without any references to Star Wars. I’ll give it a rest for this week, but I think that my other interests, including Kaiju (Godzilla) and anime (Sword Art Online) for the gen z’s, will trickle in. Sayonara.
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.
This week I’ve had some fascinating conversations on a potpourri of Beaumont history; some are even printable. From a speakeasy across the street from the courthouse to the Dixie Hotel, which wasn’t the only, umm, working hotel downtown. Hopefully, this information will be shared on a Sunday rambling soon. Someone mentioned that we should do a podcast of our exciting discussions, and I agree, but with a face for radio and a voice for silent film, I don’t see it happening anytime soon. Southeast Texas had a few good podcasts, but it takes a lot of time and money to produce a quality program. Shout-out to Tyler Troutman for creating the Tyler Knows Everything podcast for a couple of years. Of course, the “Knows” was crossed out because he wanted to learn more. The content was excellent.
For those who have never heard of a podcast, it’s an on-demand radio show or video. I mostly listen to audio podcasts when working, but I also watch a few. Growing up, I listened to the radio constantly, whether it was music, sports, or the hunting/fishing programs. I will say that I don’t hunt and haven’t fished in 35 years, but I listened. I remember listening to KOLE 1340 AM sports on Friday nights or Saturday mornings. They would broadcast the Lincoln High School games. This was after Little Joe Washington showed us his greatness, then showed the world. In the 1990s, the team wasn’t doing well. I always counted on Trudy and Sharon to tell it like it was. Unfortunately, this Saturday morning wasn’t going well for the team, and the professional team within a 500-mile perimeter, named the West Orange-Stark Mustangs, was in town doing what those teams do—run up the score. They even went for two after their touchdown before the half to make it 50-0. The team lost 84-0, but Trudy and Sharon had different views on the game. Trudy was trying to make sense of what was going on and optimistically thought that at 21-0 in the first quarter they could come back, but Sharon always told it like it was. “Nope, they just don’t have their head in it.” I loved these two! This is why I listened. I don’t know where they are today, but they will always be my favorite sports commentators.
Gordon Baxter. Photo credit Portal to Texas
I also remember listening to Gordon Baxter’s radio show after an event that happened on what I think was a recorded segment on one of the local channels. It could have been live, and that would have made more sense in terms of the mistake they made. I can’t remember if it was on KJAC, KFDM, or KBMT, but one of the news sources reported on the Rainbow Family gathering up at the lakes. The reporter was interviewing a member of the family, showing them only from the chest up. But the cameraman forgot to notice the nudist guy in the background behind the reporter. I saw this live on the news, but hearing about it on Gordon’s show was priceless.
I’m finally making headway organizing and digitizing all those files that are destined for greatness someday. If I don’t, my family will probably throw them out because they’re not so gung-ho for history, and being a researcher involves a pack rat level of hoarding. We are a different breed. Just ask Beaumont History Bits, or Bitsy, as I refer to BHB.
We’ve presented some of the stories of Magnolia Cemetery many times, but I’ve never put to pen Sibbie Van Wormer Holmes Kelley Mills. She was born in 1869 to Jacob and Catherine Van Wormer. Compared to many other women of her time, Sibbie was strong-willed and independent.
In 1884, at the age of 15, Sibbie married John W. Holmes, who was 28. Together they had three children: Archie, Sadie, and Max. We don’t know what happened to Sibbie’s husband; I can’t find any record of his death. We do know that Sibbie was married to Samuel P. Kelley by 1910.
Sam P. Kelley
Samuel worked as a grain broker/buyer in Beaumont after moving here from Galveston. Later, he became head of the Standard Warehouse Company. Unfortunately, in February 1917, Samuel took his life with a shotgun. The obituary from the Beaumont Enterprise stated that he had been “feeling badly” before the incident, but no more details surfaced in the following days as to the possible reasons for the suicide.
As a mother, Sibbie seemed to be very protective of her children. According to one story from her descendant Mary Oxford Englander, which is found in the 1991 Texas Gulf Historical & Biographical Record, when Max joined the US Army, his first detail was along the Texas-Mexico border, “fighting Pancho Villa.” Of course, Sibbie did what any other mother would do—she “rented a room in a hotel at the border for the duration of the conflict.” I’ve found a few articles that mention a lady on the border feeding information to reporters covering the conflict, but helicopter moms will do what helicopter moms do.
With the United States’ involvement in World War I, Max was inevitably sent to France. Away from his mother’s protection, he became ill (possibly with Spanish flu) and died in St. Nazaire, France. His remains were brought back to Beaumont by his mother and laid to rest at Magnolia Cemetery.
Eventually, Sibbie married a third time to John B. Mills. He would die of a heart attack in 1931. He is also buried in the Kelley plot, along with Sibbie, who passed away in 1937.
Well, that’s it for this week. Until next time, if any of you know Trudy and Sharon, tell them they are appreciated. Ciao
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