Overall, the show was good, but when I arrived at 10:50 a.m., I discovered that they had shut the gates 30 minutes early, and walking among the planes that participated in the show was no longer possible. There was no access to the bombers or the Tora planes. This year, the jump team got to jump, which was nice, but I would have rather had access to the planes. Around noon, the Big Ugly (a B-52 bomber) showed up to do its flyby. This was more or less when the solar eclipse was at its fullest. I didn’t get any photos of the solar eclipse for two reasons. First, I didn’t care; second, putting those glasses over a camera, or even a phone camera, was a chore I wasn’t willing to do. I have many photos of the lunar eclipse, which you can check out at the links below. For a solar eclipse, you can try the following trick. Stand under a tree and behold all the crescent suns on the grass or the pavement. Through the tree’s filtered light, you will be able to see the eclipse without the pain of staring at the sky and going blind. Heads-up: there will be another solar eclipse in 2024.
The wind and the cool temperature were great for us sightseers, though not so much for the pilots. The Tora show went ahead without a hitch. They know what to do, and the Pyro Crew is always competent in creating an explosive side for the show. This is the reason I attend. The B-25 Mitchell bomber Yellow Rose flew as a B-17 trying to land during the Pearl Harbor attack. I thought that the B-17G Yankee Lady wasn’t going to fly in this fantastic reenactment, which kind of looks like a free-for-all of World War II planes gone wild. By the way, glad to see the P-40 showed up this year! Another treat was when the B-25 Mitchell bomber Doolittle Raiders flew after the Tora show. They added the story of the Doolittle Raiders taking off on the USS Hornet in early 1942 to bomb Tokyo.
The Yankee Lady did fly, along with the C-47 That’s All Brother and the B-25 Devil Dog. I’m glad that they just let the bombers fly by themselves and did not have another parade of smaller planes flying at the same time, as was the case last year. I’m no expert in aviation safety, but I do have the common sense to know that you shouldn’t put two shows on at once. Last year in Dallas we found out that doing so is a bad idea!
I have a few issues with the airshow, but I’ll keep them to an “If you were there to hear it.” Weekend warriors on their phones with no clue and locked gates in the parking lot—I digress. It’s all good. The FBI hasn’t reached out yet; I’m just saying. Next year I’ll show up at the break of dawn, so I won’t have to deal with petty BS.
The third annual Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour was this week, and I want to thank all who were involved in the planning and the research for it, as well as the grounds crew. You made this event a success and did an excellent job! For those of you who attended, I hope you had a great time. When you think back on your experience, you can thumb through the free program you received when you signed in. Kudos to those knowledgeable volunteers who actually put this together. Technology nerds rock!
Speaking of technology and someone who is a rock in the community, Lynn Simon was supposed to explain the history of Woodson Pipkin and the Pipkin School but was unable to attend on Saturday, so he made a mini documentary. He included not only Reverend Pipkin and the school but also a few people who are interred in the Pipkin area of the cemetery. A mini cemetery tour, if you will. Lynn is a wiz at this kind of thing and did a superb job in creating another way to get history out to the masses. Those who know Mr. Simon will agree that he has a wealth of knowledge and helps on serveral projects in the community.
JCHC member Bruce Hamilton manning the golf cart.
I continuously learn new things about Magnolia Cemetery as well as other cemeteries in Jefferson County and adjacent counties. I will not get into the spooky side of things this week, but I will say that I was told some stories and have found a few articles about hauntings, gypsies, and things going bump in the night when you least expect it. That’ll be for next week.
This week is our Third Annual Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour. The dates and times are Thursday, 4–6 PM, and Saturday, 10 AM to 2 PM. I wanted to put this out because something posted on social media says we have the tour from 10 PM to 2 PM. I don’t know about you, but there’s no chance in hell I’ll be out among the mosquitos for 16 hours. I guess we could ask the Black Shirt/Weather People to fill in, but that would be nonsense. I don’t think an SB-7 repels mosquitos. I digress.
Someone asked if the cemetery tour was the same on both days, and I responded with a yes-and-no answer. Yes, most of our new researchers are speaking on their subjects on both days, but some of our regulars and guests will be presenting on certain days. Remember, this is Museum Madness Weekend, and some presenters will be at their museums/historic homes on Saturday. Also, there’s a time limit on Thursday because it gets dark sooner, bringing out our buzzing, winged friends from the Bayou. So I wanted to put out the full schedule for you to see and decide if you want to attend both days or pick and choose. That’s your call.
History of Magnolia Cemetery
History of the Yount Mausoleum
McGreevy Plot
Sheriff Ras Landry
Photographer Frank Weber
Chambers Family Plot (Thursday only)
Original Cemetery on the Hill
Caroline Hinchee
Journalist Florence Stratton
Pipkin School and Reverand Woodson Pipkin (Saturday only)
Martha Mack Cemetery (Saturday only)
There may be a special guest up front on Thursday to introduce you to this year’s tour. All I know is she was a hatmaker, and she was prominent in Beaumont.
The tour is self-paced, with no start or finish per se. We sign you in at the front, give you a program, and you can choose where to go. There will be 9 presenters on Thursday and 10 on Saturday. Some of the names you’ll recognize from past tours, and some are new to the list. The new ones tend to be volunteers, and their research is either on family or interesting subjects in history. This is my favorite part of the tour because we have some excellent people who bring some amazing stories to light.
This year, I will be a rover. I won’t be stationed anywhere, but if any questions arise on the tour, I will gladly answer. If I can’t answer, I’ll go to my partner in crime, Judy Linsley. I remember my first year of being on the Historical Commission, in 2012, when we did a thing at the McFaddin–Ward House Museum. I was on the house’s porch, at a table, giving out Historical Marker information on Jefferson County, and my first question from someone was, “What is this Santa Anna townsite, and where is it?” Back then, I was kind of cocky, but that changed on this day because I had no idea of the history. Judy saved my backside that day, and there have been many days since when I’ve valued her input on history. And without her, this cemetery tour would never have begun. Also, thanks to the McFaddin–Ward House Museum docents for the walking tour in 2014.
I’d also like to thank the Liberty County Historical Commission for the inspiration to do a historic cemetery tour. I get why they don’t do it anymore. For my Halloween costume, I’ll dress as a cowboy pulling a wagon full of cats. Cat herding is tough.
In a little more than two weeks, it’ll be Samhain/Halloween. I would have bought my turnips already, but they don’t last more than a week when carved. I’m sure Stingy Jack would complain, but he’ll just have to wait for something to light his way through the eternal darkness. For those who don’t know the origins of Stingy Jack and turnip carving, I’ll leave a link to a video explaining why Jack is the way he is, but the origin of pumpkin carving for Halloween began in Ireland with the legend of Stingy Jack and the carving of turnips. 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. Watch the video. Film producer Gary Andrews created it, and it’s very well done.
Until next week, don’t let anyone tell you cat herding is not a thing, because it is. I should have used EDS!
EDS Cat herding Commercial:
Stingy Jack:
Liberty Historical Commission: Whispers From the Past
Photo Credit: Rivers Fulton, Fans of Wings Over Houston Airshow
Cemetery tours and ghost tours present pretty much the same thing, but they have different aspects. They both talk about history, which some ghost hunters hate, but you cannot separate the two. Without referring to history, you can’t talk about someone or something haunting your trailer in Deweyville, can you? The Blackshirts/weather people rely on SB-7 Spirit Boxes to communicate with the dead (not talking about anyone specific from this area—cough!). Do they work? I have no idea.
An SB-7 is supposed to work like a broken radio. You ask it questions while it turns the radio dial. Some say that you will hear answers from departed folk in the white noise. I have one, and it has never worked. I know a few people who think it works, and that’s okay, but the aggressiveness these people show when you call them out is hilarious. I’m not saying that you didn’t hear an Indian say “ugh” in a trailer in Deweyville, but the electronic voice phenomenon you put on your YouTube channel (which has since disappeared) was about as legit as that time when the Ghost Adventures show—I digress. Do what you want, just don’t charge people $50 to “educate” them on your BS.
As ridiculous as a broken radio thingy sounds, I can take it even further. This time, I can only chastise myself for this ridiculousness. Years ago, I downloaded an app on my phone called Ghost Radar. There is a free version and a paid version. I think I paid $4.99 for it. I don’t know how it is supposed to work, but here is the description:
“Ghost Radar® is the original application designed to detect paranormal activity. Ghost Radar® attempts to detect paranormal activity by making various readings on the device. Traditional paranormal equipment can be easily fooled when simple mundane bursts of normal energy occur. Ghost Radar® sets itself apart by analyzing the readings and giving indications only when interesting patterns in the readings have been made.”
Scientifically, this is impossible, but even a broken clock is correct twice daily. I’ve used it in my home, and when I go to the cemetery, I get nothing 90% of the time, but there is that 10% that I can’t explain. Like that time when I was on the hill at the cemetery, and the app began its usual spouting of words that do not make any sense together. I was alone and not really paying attention to the area in front of the cemetery. Then it started throwing out words such as “animals, front, danger.” Yes, that will get your attention. I poked my head out toward the front of the cemetery and saw nothing. I will also say that I was near Police Chief Reid Tevis’s headstone when this occurred. Was Reid still on watch that day? Probably not, but it did make sense to check my surroundings. Reid Tevis is yet another story on the hill during the cemetery tour—no ghost talk, just history and greatness. I’ll leave a link below.
Another episode took place when I was near Sheriff Thomas Langham’s grave. The app emitted just one word: “run.” I laughed then, and I still laugh today. Nothing was going on, but if Thomas Langham had a sense of humor, I might have experienced it. I have other stories, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell them. (Some people don’t like other people knowing that their house is haunted.) I’ll get back to you.
Next week, it’s time to Niitakayama nobore新高山登る一二○八 (climb Mount Niitaka) at Wings over Houston at Ellington Field. Not seeing the Texas Raiders B-17 Flying Fortress will be rough. Her participation in the Tora show always added a special touch to the reenactment of the history of the Pearl Harbor attack. That big bomber flies in from the mainland, weaponless and out of fuel, and tries to land during a full-scale attack. The iconic movie Tora! Tora! Tora! which the show was born out of, is the longest continuously performing nonmilitary airshow act in the United States. Most of the planes flying in the reenactment were designed for and flew in that movie.
This blog comes out on Sunday, October 8. So, today, the Montgomery County Veterans Memorial (MCVM) Park will be hosting members of the Commemorative Air Force. They will honor the B-17 Texas Raiders that was lost last year; they will also unveil the MCVM Park’s newest monument. The events will be live streamed on the park’s Facebook page. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog.
Last week, I added my most read blog of all time, “The Legend of Sarah Jane Road.” I believe my second most read blog needs love too. “The Legend of Bragg Road” was a paranormal investigation of sorts. It was the ’80s, and we didn’t have any fancy gadgets or black shirts. Common sense was the next best thing, together with a paperback edition of ESP, Hauntings and Poltergeists: A Parapsychologist’s Handbook by Loyd Auerbach.
Until next week.
Legend of Bragg Road
My last venture into the spooky realm might have been eerie, but Bragg Road has always been much more so, mainly because I have seen the light, so to speak. In the late 80s, a few friends and I frequented the sandy eight-mile road, which runs between Highways FM 787 and FM 1293 near the town of Saratoga.
Located in the heart of the Big Thicket, one could definitely lose oneself in the pitch blackness of the forest. Except for the single light that mysteriously shines on occasion. But what is this all about? Let’s delve into the history of this lonely road.
In 1902 the Santa Fe railroad cut a line through the dense thicket between Saratoga and Bragg. These tracks were needed for hauling oil from the Saratoga oilfields, along with logs and cattle. For a long time, just one trip per day to Beaumont and back seemed to be enough to progress this wilderness into civilization. However, perhaps inevitably, the wilderness won and the city of Bragg is all but forgotten.
In 1934, the tracks were removed leaving behind a sandy road, which was used mostly by hunters who inadvertently kept the thicket from reclaiming it. It was around this time that some began seeing a strange light. (Note: In the book Tales from the Big Thicket by Francis E. Abernethy, there was one sighting of the light even before the tracks were removed.)
So what is behind this strange light that has been seen for nearly 80-plus years? The foremost story is that a railroad man was decapitated in a train wreck, so now he holds a lantern high while he looks for his head.
Other explanations include the Mexican cemetery where a foreman, rather than pay his road crew, killed them and kept the money. They were swiftly buried. Now their restless spirits haunt the road.
Whatever the source, there is a light on that darkened stretch. Skeptics will tell you that it is a reflection from car lights, but that would not explain the earlier sightings when there were few cars traveling down or near the road. Furthermore the old Model T’s headlights wouldn’t have shined brightly enough.
Another possibility is swamp gas. I could entertain this theory because of an investigation I was a part of 25 years ago.
In the late 80s, I made numerous trips to Bragg Road. The first was a day trip, and my friends Bryan and Hector tagged along. I only mention this because, after unsuccessfully identifying the road, we stopped at a store in Saratoga where Hector asked a lady where Bragg Road was. She explained to him how to get there and asked why we were looking for it. Without pause Hector explained we were going to a friend’s house that was located on the road. The woman grinned and wished us well. We did find the road and traveled down all eight miles never seeing a house or any sign of life. We had a good laugh over this.
My second trip down Bragg Road was a night-time journey done solo, but I saw nothing, only the blackness of the thicket. Fortunately my next jaunt into the forest did pay off. A few friends and I did see the light. It looked like an oncoming train if you were standing on the tracks. Try as we may, we could never get close to it. The light would flicker and then disappear.
On one occasion Paul Newman and I (Note: Not the actor turned racecar driver turned salad-dressing king) did an investigation to find out just what the light was. We started by removing all evidence of tire tracks at the entrance to the sandy road, followed by all three turnarounds. We figured that if we saw a light then we would have some idea if it was from a vehicle traveling down the road or something else.
As the night progressed, we saw the light several times, but only one vehicle, other than ours, passed down the road. We checked each turnaround and found only one set of tracks. Our investigation ended without a clear answer as to the cause of the light, or if it was indeed paranormal. We did conclude however that the light, at the very least, was not from a vehicle.
Usually when I go down that road, I see the light, except on full moonlit nights. Although the light seems to be far off, I have talked to people who know people who have seen the light close up, but sadly I have never personally met anyone who has done so, nor have I been privileged to witness it in close proximity. So please take the last statement as is.
So if you’re ever along FM 787 or FM 1293 and want a thrill, just turn onto that dark sandy road. You may just see that ghostly train headlight coming toward you. And what a sight it will be.
The website is called Rediscoveringsetx, and my weekly blog is entitled Thoughts and Ramblings. The blog goes live at 12:15 a.m. central time, while the Facebook post is scheduled for 7 a.m. each Sunday. Everything has been relatively fine since I started blogging weekly eighteen months ago. So, I have no idea why my scheduled Facebook posts disappeared last week. It may have been a technical problem, but given that a lot of BS goes into scheduling a Facebook post, everything should work. If it doesn’t, what are the other options? A newsletter? Maybe, but I would have to find a mechanism not to show the email addresses of all subscribers. I subscribe to a few newsletters, but I don’t like the type of situation where someone can see all the emails and go rogue to promote their own agenda. Anyway, how many of you read your emails? Maybe 10 percent? Going forward, I will copy and paste the blog to this godforsaken network until it makes my unpaid job harder, then I’ll cease to exist. And that’s all right—but I digress.
Did I read the calendar right? Yes, I did! And the veil is thinning. I hope your trick or treat doesn’t involve Nineteenth Street in Port Arthur or the Church of Port Arthur, as I’ve already gone into the details of my childhood. Many churches give out candy and usually call it “trunk or treat.” I guess it’s better than getting candy from an unmarked van. But we did trick or treat along Nineteenth Street; we grabbed as much candy as possible, and no one worried about razor blades in the wrappers. Well, my dad did, but he ate the suspected candy nonetheless. We didn’t die, so I guess it was okay.
John W. Gates
I also remember October being CavOILcade month. In my days, the fair/festival part of it was held in Pioneer Park (near Saint Mary’s Hospital). I can’t talk about the parade part because I don’t do parades. Never have and never will. The early history of this event goes back further than what the CavOILcade website states. This celebration began on May 18, 1912, when it was known as Gate’s Day—that is, the birthday of John “Bet-a-million” Gates. Gates died in Paris, France, in August 1911, and the city made this a holiday out of respect for the family. If you know the history of how Port Arthur actually became a city, then you know that Mr. Gates kicked old Arthur “All-hat-and-no-cattle” Stilwell out of his own railroad company and funded most of this city’s beginnings. (Okay, I’ll give old Arthur kudos for hiring his brownies—the Wiess brothers—to show him where to build his port.) Nothing about this was paranormal. Just a shyster trying to outshyster the Kountze brothers. And yes, I spelled Wiess right! The link to this story is at the bottom of the blog.
Charles Gates, the family’s oldest son, chartered a train to Port Neches Park to host a free picnic for all the children in Port Arthur. Gate’s Day lasted for several years, peaking in 1918 when the Gates Memorial Library was dedicated. (The library opened on December 1, 1917.) The holiday was stopped in 1921 at the family’s request.
First Gates Day Memorial Celebration 1912
The first CavOILcade was held in 1953. If you check on the event’s website, its origins lie in the fiftieth anniversary of Port Arthur (1948). Many festivities followed, and a Port Arthur News editor asked, “Why can’t we do this every year?” So, a new festival was born for the city that “oiled the world.” Now it is a pageant. I have no idea what that involves, but there are tiaras at the end of the day. Congratulations!
In honor of the spooky season, I’ll begin with Mid County’s favorite legend. I wrote “The Legend of Sarah Jane Road” in 2012; since then, it has been my most viewed post every year. I think we all have stories from this dark, twisty road, and I would like to hear yours. What say you?
Until next week, here is the full blog and our trick-or-treating adventures on Nineteenth Street in Port Arthur.
Legend of Sarah Jane Road
Most people who have grown up in the mid and south Jefferson County have heard at least one version of the legend of Sarah Jane and the lowly road that it’s attached to. I remember riding the darkened road myself many times in the 1980s. I even fished from the bridge during a dark and foggy night. So, what did I see? (He paused to entice the reader before modestly stating that the author saw nothing of substance.) We will however delve into that a bit later.
So who was Sarah Jane, and what are the legends surrounding this ghost road? In one version, on a moonlit night, you may see her ghostly apparition searching the marsh and thicket for her baby who drowned in the murky waters of the Neches River.
Other versions include Sarah Jane as a lady pirate (or Lafitte’s girlfriend). In a further account, she was attacked by a group of bandits, so she placed her child in some weeds near the bridge. When it was safe, she returned for the child—but it was gone. It somehow got into the canal and disappeared.
The story I know is as follows: Sarah Jane was crossing the bridge of the canal when she accidently dropped her baby in the water. Try as she did, she could not save her child, and it drowned. Distraught about losing her child, Sarah Jane hung herself from a huge oak tree further up the road from the bridge.
There are many renditions of this story, but whichever version I read, I inevitably uncover a big problem with the historical accuracy. I am not saying that something isn’t afoot along the Neches—I just don’t think it was with Sarah Jane. Union soldiers were never in Grigsby’s Bluff (Port Neches), which another version implies. In this report, Sarah Jane hears there are Union soldiers making their way toward her cabin, so she puts her baby in a wicker basket under a wooden bridge before fleeing the area. Later, when she returns, the basket and the baby are gone. (Please note that this area, in the past, present, and future has been, is, and will be known to have alligators frequenting its waterways. To put anything remotely fleshy in a waterway is therefore not advisable.)
In an article by Carl Cunningham Jr. in the Mid County Chronicle dated October 28, 1998, the author asserts in an interview with W. T. Block (whose family owned a lot of the land in this area) that a reporter from the Port Arthur News made the connection to his mother’s name (Sarah Jane Block) and the dark spooky road, and so the legend began.
As I said, I spent many a night on both the road and the bridge but never saw anything of substance—except for one night. Three friends and I had decided to drive down Sarah Jane Road to see what we could see, or at least scare the hell out of the couple making out on the parked motorcycle we encountered while driving with the headlights off. (Thank you, Bryan, for warning them of our impending appearance with your rendition and re-enactment of the laugh from the movie “Gremlins.”)
Just before our encounter with the Harley lovebirds, I looked into the trees and noticed a faint ball of light shooting across the tree line. I immediately asked another friend Hector if he’d seen it.
“Uh yeah,” he had said nervously.
Replaying the scene in my mind, I do not think the light in question was of a paranormal nature. But I cannot figure out what it actually was. Possibly a type of swamp gas that most hauntings are blamed on. It could have been, but we did not investigate further. I will also add that there was no alcohol involved on this day on my part or any of the others.
In the following weeks, a few friends (including Hector) also took a ride to the bridge. This time, my friend Hector decided to be belligerent toward whatever could be lurking in the darkness. At about this same moment, the fog began to roll in swiftly. Disheartened and a touch spooked by the sudden appearance of the fog, Hector returned to the safety of the car, and they quickly retreated. As they drove away, the storyteller told me that the fog seemed to keep up with them. (Note: The storyteller had not partaken of any alcohol, but I can neither confirm nor deny Hector’s involvement with the beverage that night. I will say however that this was the last time Hector was aggressive toward a ghostly legend.)
For me, the question of whether or not Sarah Jane haunts the lowly road between Groves and Port Neches is still unanswered, but with this area’s history, there are other possible players in the saga. North of the road, there were six Indian burial mounds, all standing 20 ft high, 60 ft wide, and 100 yards long. (Note: All the mounds were destroyed by the year 1900 for various reasons.) Indians have a rich history in this area and their set of own legends to boot.
Therefore, in closing, if one ever finds oneself traveling down the dark and winding Sarah Jane Road, I would refrain from yelling out profanities because you never know who or what might be listening.
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.
Mark Wiess, Not Brownies, Told Stilwell Where to Build
October is almost here, but not quite here, so I can’t get into my rants on ghost hunters, weather people, and SB-7 ghost boxes. I’m counting the days, though. Do you know of an interesting paranormal happening in this area? I ask this because I stay one step ahead of the journalists who ask the historical commission for leads on spooky stories; the commission refers them to me. I know that some of you have stories to tell. The Rougarou? The light on Bragg Road? Your mother-in-law coming back to continue tormenting you? It’s all good. DM me or email me at rediscoveringsetx@gmail.com.
Last week, I mentioned Deputy John E. Hutcheson. On Wednesday, he finally received a headstone in a ceremony at Magnolia Cemetery. Thanks to Operation Blue Remembrance for making this happen and to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office for being present. I also credit fellow Jefferson County Historical Commission member Kate Hambright for the photos and her research on the history of some of the Beaumont Police Department officers who paid the ultimate price while protecting citizens. Finally, kudos to 12 News Now and Fox 4 Beaumont for attending. I’ll add their videos at the bottom of this blog.
Unfortunately, I could not attend the memorial service because I needed to go to a meeting that required a quorum. Since it wasn’t on the agenda, I couldn’t bring it up, but I would like to note that you can’t spell “quorum” without “rum,” and since Monday 19 was Talk Like a Pirate Day, we should maybe add refreshments to future meetings—perhaps more members would show up. I digress.
Afterward, I headed to Magnolia Cemetery for another meeting and to look for another fellow researcher’s person of interest buried there. I did find her, and the backstory is not good. When you start researching people, you never know what you’ll find. Sometimes, you become intrigued with the person, and you can get obsessed with finding the truth about them. I have my own obsessions, including Susie Spindletop, the Rowleys, Catherina Stengele, and Hugo DeBretagne. All these projects are ongoing, but I feel farther away from the Hugo DeBretagne one in terms of learning more about his life. Before I go any further, here is a description of what I know and how this journey began.
While walking through Greenlawn Cemetery in Groves one mid-August morning in 2015, I came across a monument erected by the American Legion Auxiliary. Surrounding the stone memorial, which carried the inscription “They gave their lives that freedom shall not perish,” were the graves of several veterans. Most of them survived the conflicts of World War I, World War II, Korea, and Vietnam, and they went on to lead healthy lives with their loved ones. However, there was one memorial that differed from the rest. Corporal Hugo J. DeBretagne, it seems, paid the ultimate price for his country and never returned. The inscription on his headstone reads:
In memory of Hugo J. DeBretagne, CO D 1st Bat. 2nd Marines. Killed at Tarawa. Buried at sea. Oct. 13, 1923–Nov. 23, 1943.
I now know that his mother was there in 1945 to dedicate this monument to the fallen. At the time, her name was Berthe Toch DeBretagne; she passed in 1985, and her headstone reads Berthe Toch Hay. As far as I know, she was born in Belgium and came to this country as a war bride (as some would say). Her husband was Hugo Stanislaus DeBretagne, a World War I veteran; they had three boys—Hugo J., James, and Bert (who died the same year of his birth).
Both James and Hugo J. fought in Guadalcanal, but there is little about their experiences. I know that James made it through the war and settled back in SETX. He died in 2008 and is buried in Hardin County. Hugo DeBretagne gave his life on D-day three of Operation Galvanic. It was the final day of the Battle of Tarawa, and only his comrades know what happened. I have all sorts of information about Hugo, including the ship he was on, maps, and war diaries, but nothing that his mom would want, except that he was buried at sea. I grab any photos pertaining to the Battle of Tarawa just in case some young kid with the last name DeBretagne is in them.
One day, I hope to learn Hugo Joseph DeBretagne’s story, but research takes a lot of time. As far as Susie Spindletop goes, I’ve done eleven years of research, and it comes in sections. In the end, I suspect that Florence adds to her story when something needs to be found; then, new information comes up regularly. The Rowleys will never be forgotten because there are so many wormholes to go down, and I think this family deserves to be recognized.
Good news on the state front (still waiting for national publicity, though): the Texas Historical Commission (THC) has added the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour to its Project Spotlight publication. It is good to know that the THC actually reads all the counties’ annual reports. The tour didn’t start out as a Jefferson County Historical Commission (JCHC) project, but some of our members went above and beyond the call of duty to make it happen. And they are still bringing the history. I’ll leave the dates and times at the end of this blog.
John E. Hutcheson
While at Magnolia Cemetery last week, I learned that Operation Blue Remembrance (OBR) will be hosting a memorial service for the fallen deputy John E. Hutcheson, whose end of watch was June 28, 1925. The OBR is a non-profit organization from Baytown that was approved by the state and the IRS as a 501(c)(3) organization on June 2, 2020. Its primary focus is “assisting the law enforcement community in any way” they can and visiting all the graves of fallen officers in Texas and a few other states. I’ll leave a link to their full story at the end of the blog.
The OBR’s motto is Nemo Oblitus, which is Latin for No One Forgotten. The reason the organization is coming here is that neither the family nor the county purchased a headstone for Deputy Hutcheson when he was buried in Magnolia Cemetery. The man was forgotten until the OBR went boots on the ground and discovered that he had no marker. Well, that will change on Wednesday, September 20 at 10:00 a.m., when they will set a brand-new headstone for the fallen deputy, paid for by the organization. Indeed, no one must be forgotten. Ever. Kudos to this group for doing this. Now that I know about them, I want to know about their next projects.
So, what happened to John E. Hutcheson? Here is what we know.
Deputy Hutcheson was shot and killed with his own revolver by an unruly prisoner in the county jail. The man was in jail for public drunkenness and was working off a $21 fine. At around 1000 hours, the prisoner threw a piece of metal at Deputy Hutcheson, grazing his head. The deputy reported the incident to the sheriff, who told him not to give the prisoner lunch without the assistance of the sheriff.
Deputy Hutcheson did not heed the warning and enlisted the help of two other prisoners to help serve lunch to the prisoner. As he entered the cell, the man hit him in the head with a pot and knocked him down. The prisoner then grabbed the deputy’s .45 caliber service revolver and shot him in the chest. The two other prisoners immediately attacked the prisoner and during the struggle, the suspect was shot in the head and fatally wounded.
The two prisoners who assisted Deputy Hutcheson were released from prison for their heroic actions.
Deputy Hutcheson was survived by his wife and four daughters. He was buried at Magnolia Cemetery in Beaumont, Texas.
A wife and four daughters usually don’t have the money for a headstone, especially if it’s 1925. I haven’t delved into the story here, but I want to learn more about it. The public is welcome to come out to the cemetery and attend the memorial service in remembrance of John E. Hutcheson, and the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office will be well represented on the occasion.
On Thursday, I attended a virtual presentation by the Friends of the Texas Historical Commission. It was called “The Legacy of the Buffalo Soldiers in the 20th Century.” Cale Carter II, director of exhibitions at the Buffalo Soldiers Museum in Houston, did a superb job. He enlightened me on a few things about the 24th and 25th Infantry units in the Pacific theater of World War II that I would like to research.
The buffalo soldiers’ history is new to me, and I’ve only begun to discover their past. Here in SETX, we can confidently say that we have a buffalo soldier buried in Beaumont’s Evergreen Cemetery. For years, people speculated that there was a soldier buried there, but the facts weren’t available. Then, a researcher named Kate Hambright, who is also on the JCHC, found the last piece of the puzzle, which identified him as a soldier who fought in the Indian Wars.
Jerry Lloyd is an actual buffalo soldier because the units that originated this term were from 1866–1898. There were some Black units who fought in the Civil War on the Union side, and there were a few who fought for the Confederacy. I won’t get into this because I am not knowledgeable about the Civil War except that my great-great-grandfather came to this country in 1868 from Italy when “y’all got your sh*t together!” Some say we still haven’t, but we’re trying. I believe this is true!
George Shaw, who is also buried in Evergreen Cemetery, died in France in the Great War in 1918, along with our recognized fallen. He wasn’t a buffalo soldier, and that’s all right, but he did receive a new headstone, at the same time as Jerry Lloyd. Shaw did have a headstone, but it stated that he was a private. George Shaw was a sergeant, and when you die in a war that you didn’t ask for but participated in, accuracy matters. Thanks again to Kate for also discovering this! I will leave a link to the full video of the presentation. Thank you, Kristy Peloquin, development manager at the Friends of the Texas Historical Commission.
Well, that’s about it for this week. Until next time, Nemo Oblitus. Ever!
The times and dates of the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour are as follows:
Someone wrote a book called 100 Things to Do in Beaumont Before You Die. My first thought was, “That’s nice,” but I can get this kind of information at most museums and attractions in our area. The Beaumont Conventions & Visitors Bureau has a website that offers this information for free. So, why the book? Who is the audience? And who wrote it?
I learned a lot about people’s thoughts about Beaumont from my covert operations regarding the USS Texas. At the time, they were looking at which city should host it. Everyone dismissed Beaumont as a drive-through city and wasn’t cordial about it. I have the audio! I believe 秋山 優花里 Akiyama Yukari would have been proud of me and my shenanigans, but I digress! We know many visitors frequent both the Museum of the Gulf Coast in Port Arthur and Spindletop Gladys City Boomtown Museum in Beaumont. Some of them are international. Not the numbers that the USS Texas needs to stay afloat, but the numbers are good (but not that good to vacation here unless you fish).
The book’s author is Lauren Monitz, a freelance journalist who has moved to Beaumont. She’s written other books like this one and has a travel blog called The Down Lo. Let’s just say that her travels are global, as is her following. Her Instagram rocks about 101,000 followers (and I didn’t even see one cat video). It’s obvious that she wrote the book because she saw a lot of good things in this area and wanted to spread the word. Kudos to her for this. I’ll leave a link to her blog below.
Regarding the USS Texas, there is no certainty that the foundation will moor it to Pier 21 in Galveston next to the Elissa. Is Tilman Fertitta getting cold feet? Probably not. The problem may be similar to that of Beaumont hosting it. There are restrictions in the waterways that may have to get Congress involved, and we already have too much incompetence in politics. I know the ship needs 250,000 paid visitors a year to break even, so the foundation wanted it in Galveston. If not Galveston, then where? Corpus Christi is not in the mix, and that is interesting because they know how to take care of museum ships. I’m sure it will end up somewhere on Galveston Island, but I wonder about the repairs needed in 30 years due to the salt water. The state of Texas has given the foundation 35 million dollars to go away. Hopefully, there will be some sort of GoFundMe page in 2053 to crowdfund the repairs.
Last Sunday, I took a drive down memory lane. I wanted to check Eddingston Court on Procter Street in Port Arthur. The site is privately owned now and fenced in, so I knew it would only be a drive-by. The structures haven’t changed much since the sale, but at least the grass is mowed, and Dionicio’s conch shell wall is intact behind a chain-link fence. This was a sight to see when it was built in 1929 by tugboat captain and businessman Ambrose Eddingston. One can only hope something will come of this property so that it can shine again.
I also noticed new construction next door at the old Pond Estate, at least along the road, but the land goes back to the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway. The Ponds owned Greenlawn Cemetery in Groves before selling it to the corporate entity known as Dignity Memorial, which is not question friendly unless you have your checkbook out. This is really sad because most of my family is buried there. Last year, as part of the Texas Historical Commission’s cemetery inventory project, I tried to get in touch with someone of substance at this Dignified Dog and Pony show. I needed to know if Johnson Cemetery is separate from Greenlawn. I know it used to be separate, but the goal of the inventory project was to answer questions about how many cemeteries were in a county. I still haven’t heard back from them. I will also add that the same company owns Forest Lawn in Beaumont. I asked them a similar question, and I did get an answer. The person on the other end of the phone wasn’t happy to talk to me, but at least I got an answer. I’ll just leave it there.
The old interurban office on Austin Avenue and the Adams Building were my next drive-bys down memory lane. I really hope they do this building proud! Kudos to Motiva!
Whenever I drive through Port Arthur, I am drawn to Ninth Avenue and the good memories of the area, but before reaching the memories, we stop at Saigon Market for sweet bread. Yes, I do miss Howard’s Grocery and JPOTS (Just Part of the Store), but I miss Alston’s Nursery even more. If you grew up in Port Arthur, and depending on how old you are, you will know this nursery by different names. Back in the day, it was Eagleson Nursery, then Norman Alston purchased it and spent many years selling the regular stuff, but you could always go in and purchase just one vegetable plant instead of a pack of six. Corporate Walmart failed in this case.
I had a good relationship with Norman. He was full of knowledge of the industry and had common sense. At the time, my neighbor Roy was also a frequent shopper at the nursery, and there was a certain rivalry between them concerning who could grow the biggest cabbage. Of course, Roy, who was born in Leesville, Louisiana, was to me the ultimate farmer. He educated me on many things, from growing red potatoes to changing all the gas lines in the house. Usually, they would compare produce, and the winner would usually be Norman. I did a write-up on Roy; I’ll leave the link at the bottom of this blog.
Of course, as I was surrounded by nurses during my life, I have to mention St. Mary’s Hospital. It’s now an empty lot, but the flagpole and a plaque memorializing its existence are still there. It’s sad for those who worked there and remember the place; the original building was mutilated by redevelopment and expansion. Even if they had wanted to, they could never have saved the original structure. I have a few photos of the front of the original building with the name on it.
Across the street from St. Mary’s Hospital, there was an apartment complex that was moved to the beach as rentals. The ’70s maybe? I have no idea if they are still standing. St. James Catholic Church and School was south of the hospital. I remember the five-story addition of the hospital being built in the ’70s. I also remember the cement circle where a few nuns would exercise by taking walks along it. Someone told me there was a building in the middle, but I didn’t follow up on this. And even after all this talk, penguins were not referenced.
I’ve previously mentioned on the blog why Ninth Avenue gets all curvy near the Bob Hope School, which was once the Hughen School. The interurban depot stood in the middle of two dead-end roads. After 1932, I guess people figured out that this spot would make a good shortcut over the tracks, or it’s possible that the shortcut began during the war in the ’40s because almost no one had a car in this area in the ’30s. I know that the interurban tracks were removed and used for the war effort.
I didn’t mention Calvery Cemetery, where I also have family, nor my frequent visits to TG&Y across the street from the cemetery. I also didn’t mention Ace Hobby Shop on Twenty-Fifth Street, where I usually purchased World War II carrier models, and Gerald Schnieder’s store. Good times.
Occasionally, I like to drive through the old neighborhood on Nineteenth and Twentieth Streets, but things have changed. Some of my old neighbors and friends have gone, including the Tremonts, Myers, Duhons, Domacs, Fontenots, Romeros, Belangers, Les, Trans, Garcias, Broussards, and Boones. All good people. Some have moved on; others have moved up. I’ll end it here, but I do want to say that five-year-old me ate the perfect crabcake thanks to Mrs. Domac.
Some of us received some needed rain on Sunday after temperatures reached record highs. However, unfortunately, the Spindletop-Gladys City Boomtown Museum was hit by straight-line winds; the saloon’s roof was ripped off, and a wooden tank from the original site of Spindletop was destroyed. Luckily, there was minimal damage to most of the other buildings, but some of the collections did get spoiled by water.
Although I don’t know many of the details, I do know the people there, and Lamar University has the best person for this kind of situation. Director Rayana Hoeft will fix it. Though she’s not from this area, she is passionate about preserving history and does it well. There is no better person to handle this problem.
Photo Credit: 12 News Now
Good news from Port Arthur. Motiva stated that they are going forward with renovating the Federal Building and the Adams Building in downtown Port Arthur for their offices. The project had been ongoing but was halted because of COVID. It is always a good thing when someone brings a city’s downtown back to life. I look forward to seeing the transformation. The Adams Building—or as some call it, the World Trade Building—has always stood out as a beautiful piece of architecture. I hope it shines again.
After this breaking news, my trip to H-E-B. Finding a new product wasn’t that special. On my daily visit, I noticed that they were pushing a new item. I’m good with new things, but some products at Mr. Butt’s grocery store are kind of dodgy. Lately, I’ve been seeing pallets of a new item from the Central Market branch of H-E-B (this means Austin stuff). Basically, it’s pallets of seaweed roasted with sea salt and other flavors. Yes, I get it, it’s supposed to be a healthy chip without corn or potatoes. Hey, the whole package is only 20 calories! I did purchase one and thought I’d give it a try. My review of the product is as follows. Remember when you were eight years old and you were playing in the surf at McFaddin Beach? Your mom or dad were making hotdogs, but the south wind blew and threw sand on your soon-to-be lunch. While playing with your obnoxious brother, sister, or cousin, you turned around, and a two-foot wave hit you in the face. Of course, you had your mouth open, which wasn’t a pleasant experience. This is what the Central Market seaweed product tastes like (without the tar ball flavor in the waves that we endured growing up on McFaddin Beach). I’ll give it two stars for nostalgia.
Magnolia Cemetery has many stories to tell, and the original plots are no exception. Here is a brief history of its origins.
Back in the 1840s, William McFaddin, Jefferson County pioneer and veteran of the Texas War for Independence, created a private graveyard on his land for his family and friends. The plot overlooked Brakes Bayou and was located on the highest knoll in Beaumont. The first recorded burial on the larger site was in 1847 when John D. Gilbert was laid to rest. The first recorded burial on the McFaddin family’s personal plot was William’s son John Andrew McFaddin, who was killed during the Civil War on September 29, 1863, at the Battle of Fordoche Bayou.
During the 1860s, another burial area, adjacent to the McFaddin’s, was marked for the Odd Fellows Lodge. William McFaddin then saw the need for even more space on the hill to give other Southeast Texans a place to bury their loved ones; so, in 1876, he deeded two and a quarter acres of land next to his private graveyard. Initially, the area was used primarily for Civil War veterans and their families, but many others rest on the hill, including another Texas War for Independence veteran, a Union soldier, a deputy marshal of Beaumont killed in the line of duty on September 25, 1881, and many victims of the 1918 influenza pandemic.
I want to delve deeper into the history and names of Magnolia Cemetery. First, I want to thank Judy Linsely for lending her talent and expertise on its history. She should know, as she is related to at least half the family names here in Magnolia. I also have another friend who is related to the other half, so I believe everyone is covered!
John D. Gilbert is thought to be the first burial, and I believe this to be true. But the first burial of the McFaddin plot might not have been John Andrew McFaddin, as he may not have been brought back from the Battle of Fordoche Bayou, where he died. Not to get too morbid, but putting a body on a wagon or horse and traveling for a couple of weeks wasn’t done back then for obvious reasons. I know that the miniseries Lonesome Dove did some sort of traveling with a body, but this didn’t happen in Louisiana. Heat and humidity are unbearable to the dead as well as the living. I’ll stop here because I don’t want to make a comparison with you returning from evacuating due to Hurricane Rita ten days later and cleaning out your refrigerator—but I digress. It’s quite possible that he was relocated here later, but no records show this, so we believe that his headstone is actually a memorial.
Many prominent family plots are here, and a walk on the hill will do you good. There are so many things to see besides the stories of lives lived. One truly awesome site is the Ogden tree. We know that this tree is not a Woodmen of the World monument; it is something to see. The huge structure stands in front of the Ogden plot with all the headstones in the back resembling cut logs. I assume the correct interpretation is that this is the Ogden tree, and those are its descendants.
Another mystery of sorts is the grave of Jorge Mireles, who rests behind William Patterson. Billy Patterson was the first Beaumont police officer killed in the line of duty. I will not say the name of his murderer because he is one of two people I don’t mention—ever (except if I’m at a cemetery tour in Magnolia, then I’m like a parrot. Let the bad-mouthing begin!). My research shows that Jorge’s family was from San Antonio, but they lived in Beaumont and were the owners of the Tampico Café. The headstone is in Spanish, and pieces of the rectangular plot have markings similar to Dionicio Rodríguez’s work. Dionicio was a sculptor who perfected the process of carving concrete so that it looked like wood. His works in this area include the benches in front of Christus St. Elizabeth Hospital and the Eddingston Court shell wall in Port Arthur. He did a lot more work at the Phelan Mansion, but as far as I know, the benches are the only surviving examples of it.
I doubt that Dionicio made the petrified wood sculptures at Jorge’s grave, but they are certainly copycats of his work. Both the Mireles and Dionicio had ties with San Antonio, so it is still a mystery if there is a connection.
Until next week, I think I’m done trying new H-E-B things. Sorry Charlie (Butt)! I will admit that your Sushiya chicken fried rice is decent, but you may need to add some petroleum oil to your seaweed chips in order to achieve that authentic taste here on the Texas coast.
Regarding non-SETX news that haunts my interests, the English Lionesses came up short in the Women’s FIFA World Cup Final. They fought to the end and did their country proud, unlike the men’s team, which is made up of wankers (I’ve already told my story of 40 years of pain for the Three Lions). The thing about the US teams is that here the tables are switched. The women’s team is supposed to be better than the men’s one because it won the World Cup in 2019, and it used to be this way, mostly because the female players are underpaid and hungry, but not this year. They looked like they didn’t care, even after multiple losses. Kudos to the men for attempting to be a team, but please send Pulisic to rot in Caney Head or in a part of hell where I will not meet him. OK, that’s now out of my system.
The current heat and severe drought have taken their toll on SETX, especially in terms of freshwater levels. But as a result of this misery, a piece of history was discovered on the Neches River in Jasper County. A local resident found a submerged wooden structure along the banks of the river. From the looks of it, the structure was some kind of boat or ship. A few known wrecks happened along the Neches and Sabine Rivers, and I hope they discover the story of this one. The Texas Historical Commission (THC) is now involved in searching for this vessel’s origin.
If you want to cruise the Neches and see and learn about some of the wrecks or sunken barges in Jefferson County and Orange County, you need to book a trip on the Ivory Bill at Neches River Adventures. The ride is excellent and is mostly informative. I’ve taken the tour a few times and written about it before. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog. The history lesson, as well as the wildlife, is something you must experience.
Speaking of the THC, the Friends of the Texas Historical Commission are offering free learning opportunities and webinars, and I will be taking advantage of some of these talks. They start at six in the evening, which is different from anything the THC usually does. Normally, their events start at noon on a weekday because they seem to think that everyone is either retired and has nothing to do or works at a university, where they can disappear and tell the powers that be that they were in a Zoom meeting. This is a problem for me because I don’t work at a computer all day, and I have to plan meetings. But I will be definitely attending the webinar on “The Legacy of the Buffalo Soldiers: Buffalo Soldiers and Their Service in the 20th Century.” I will leave a link to the webinars below.
I like this type of content because I don’t have to get off early, shower, and look presentable. I just want to hear the speakers. This worked well for me during COVID, and my continuing education classes with AgriLife and the Texas Department of Agriculture were good. The head guy at Jefferson County Extension told me, “Make sure you have pants on because we have had issues.” I didn’t ask about the issues; I just made sure I was dressed. I hoped they would keep doing this, but, sadly, I was at Ford Park in November the day of the McFaddin–Ward lecture and had to deal with the same talks, plus some jackass put the thermostat on 58, and I had no jacket. At least I had a good view of the traffic backed up all morning, and the 18-wheel tanker on fire in the afternoon, but I digress.
Like last week, I wanted to highlight another Magnolia Cemetery resident from past tours. Sculptor Herring Coe has always been a popular figure on the tour, and even though he is not focused on this year, it is worth your while to check out his carved headstones, which he made for himself, his parents, his siblings, and their spouses. The carvings on the blocks represent each person’s unique interests or talents. The stones are a fitting tribute to each life lived. Some of Herring’s other sculptures and carvings include the Dick Dowling monument on the battlefield in Sabine Pass, carvings on the Biology and Geology buildings at Lamar University in Beaumont, carvings on the 1931 Jefferson County Courthouse, and a memorial for the schoolchildren killed in an explosion in New London, Texas, in 1937.
The times and dates of the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour are as follows:
Thursday, October 19 from 4:00 to 6:00 p.m.
Saturday, October 21 from 10:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m.
Until next week, it’s never coming home, so I guess I’ll go cry in my bucket of Vindaloo! Nah Nah, Nah!
The Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour will soon be upon us, along with the usual reporter nudging us on and asking us where spooky stories can be found in SETX, given it’s October. I get it, and I also want to know, but our tour is history based. Most folks know this, except for a particular local tourist website that hasn’t updated its “Things to Do” page since 2017. No, we aren’t a ghost tour, but if you are inclined to delve into that realm, we can talk after the tour. Wink wink!
This will be the third annual tour since we brought it back after Hurricane Harvey screwed up everyone’s lives. One of the perks of the recent tours is having people speak who have personally researched their subjects and/or who are related to the individuals in question. I have done a lot of research on the residents of Magnolia Cemetery and have found many interesting stories as well as a significant amount of lost history concerning this area. I’m glad I’m not alone. Most of the presenters show their passion for talking about local history and the stories of lives once lived. I believe you will enjoy listening to our historical tour. And the best thing about it is that it’s free to attend! I’ll give the times and dates at the end of this blog.
This tour has gone from two people sharing stories with the docents of the McFaddin-Ward House to a few more speakers on a couple of Heritage Happy Hours with the Heritage Society (which went really well!) to an organized tour for Magnolia Cemetery. I want to thank the volunteers of the past two tours for rediscovering some forgotten stories that are relevant to our history. One story that I especially enjoyed was from the research collection of Don Smart. On the first tour (2021), he presented Oscar “Speedy” Eldridge. Here is Don’s blurb on Speedy:
Oscar Newell “Speedy” Eldridge was born in 1878 in Illinois. By 1900, Eldridge was living in Brenham, Texas, with his sister and brother-in-law, working as a carpenter.
In November 1900, he took a job with the Beaumont Fire Department at the central fire station, where he actually lived. Over the years that he worked for the fire department, his duties included, but were not limited to, driver (1903), driver of hook and ladder (1910–11), pipe man (1914), truckman (1916), and captain at fire station no. 5 (1924). He also served as a constable for a few terms. Eldridge served the Beaumont Fire Department from November 1900 to December 1944; that is, 44 years and one month.
Eldridge engaged in a pastime that many Beaumonters enjoy, which is often called “America’s favorite pastime.” He played baseball for the Beaumont Athletic Club in several leagues: Rice and Lumber League (1901), Sunset League (1902), and South Texas League (1903) to name a few. Eldridge earned his nickname “Speedy” not because of his running ability but because of his pitching.
“Speedy” Eldridge married Daisy Long in July 1918. They were married for 26 years, but the federal census never listed any children.
Oscar Newell “Speedy” Eldridge died in February 1945, just two months after retiring from the Beaumont Fire Department.
In addition to that awesome photo of Speedy galloping down a Beaumont street in a horse-drawn wagon, what I love about this story is that he was also a fireman and a baseball player. That hits close to home in a good way because my father was a fireman in the late 1950s and early ’60s in Port Arthur. While visiting the Museum of the Gulf Coast with my sister, we found his photo on display in one of the exhibits. He was also a pretty good baseball player for Lamar State College. To be fair to Speedy, though, my father never rode in a horse-drawn wagon looking that cool.
I have some stories from the Port Arthur Fire Department, but a few are not that good. The main one I remember concerns some firefighters who were training at an “abandoned” house. Back in the day, the fire department would set fire to abandoned houses and then put out the fire. They did this multiple times in a day, with the neighbors sometimes watching. Well, on that particular day, the owner of the house came home to find his property burned multiple times and ruined. The neighbors had said nothing; they had just watched the actions of the fire department all day. Based on this story, I’ll just say that your neighbors are not your friends. Never trust the *%^*%^.
I will end this blog early with this epiphany because the Third Annual Magnolia Cemetery Tour is being planned, not because the English Lionesses are in the FIFA World Cup Final. No one wakes up for that at five o’clock in the morning on their day off. No one! But it is coming home!
The Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour will be part of the Museum Madness Weekend. The times are as follows:
Thursday, October 19, 4:00–6:00 p.m.
Saturday, October 21, 10:00 a.m.–2:00 p.m.
Hope to see you there!
12 News Now Story on the Cemetery Tour from 2022 :
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