Thoughts and Ramblings: A Look Back

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It has been a most intriguing year for me, to say the least. We found the “Elks Love Nest,” which was given away in a raffle in December 1926. The house still stands in 2023.

We also found Beaumont’s “daredevil,” Louis Sacker, eating horseshoes and nails in 1926 while doing other strongman stuff. Grrr! (These are the types of stories that appear when you search in old newspapers.)

Eunice Stephens, Florence Stratton’s niece, was proven right about the discovery of a town called Florence. Yes, I ate crow at dismissing this because Florence, Texas, was established in 1857 in Williamson County, but a fellow researcher (thanks Kate) found an article referring to a train stop called Florence Switch in Hardin County. The depot/stop had no post office but lasted until at least 1912. I nicked a 1912 train stop map from the internet as proof. Sometimes we can be a bit dodgy, but it was the original map and I just wanted proof of the location of Florence Switch. I’ll pay $150 for a signed book by Florence Stratton and $150 to walk around the U.S.S. Texas in drydock, but I do have my limits.

I was honored to speak to the Daughters of the American Revolution, Captain William Sanders Chapter, in Port Arthur in February. And, heads up, I will be doing the same this February.

In February, I also visited the U.S.S. Texas at Gulf Copper in Galveston. I was five minutes late but managed to drive from the ferry to the shipyard parking lot in those five minutes (you do the math and the wind speeds—sorry/not sorry). On my visit, I noticed that most people there were not from Beaumont, but they opined about Beaumont being a drive-thru city and that they would hate to see the ship moored there. I had assumed it would be moored in Galveston, but for some reason, they didn’t mention it after Beaumont and Baytown were taken off the list. However, it will be moored near the Elissa.

In March and April, I participated in a ground-penetrating radar (GPR) survey at the Sabine Pass Cemeteries. Our goal was to find the mass grave of yellow fever victims from the mid-1860s, but due to the clay soil and lack of permission to access the known site, our efforts didn’t yield much. This investigation is ongoing!

In April, I visited the Tallship Festival in Galveston. Touring the four ships, plus one modern ship, was fantastic, and I managed to do it in an hour and a half. My main love at this festival was the U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson. This modern National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) ship is a federally operated hydrographic vessel out of Norfolk, Virginia. It does ocean mapping and is a vital tool for scanning shipping areas after a hurricane or any other problem that could endanger the maritime sector. The ship is here to scan the waters and make sure they are clear of debris and hazards. It was here for Hurricane Delta in 2020, and it did its thing for Hurricane Maria in 2017.

This year was Port Arthur’s 125th anniversary, and there were many efforts to tell the story. My favorite was the online map of historical markers. Les McMahen did an excellent job on this!

The 49th Galveston Historic Homes Tour was one to remember for me, at least for me. As some of you know, I take the tour on the first day and then volunteer with the candy lady Bev from Liberty County on Sunday. I stayed at a friend’s Airbnb this year, so I didn’t have to drive from Jefferson County to Galveston via Winnie. Between waiting for the ferry and that drive, it usually drives you insane. Whatever the insanity, Mama Theresa’s Pizza is there, and this is my dinner waiting on the ferry! Hope to see you at the 50th in May. I hear there’s something exciting planned!

The drought hit us hard this year. It was worse than in 2011. If you remember, that was the year that many forest fires threatened Plantersville. There was a lot of damage between Houston and Austin that you can still see today. Well, this year was more of a look at how low the river has become “and is that a ship?” While we heard about a few incidents from the news media, many boats have sunk along the Neches. If you take the Ivy Bill Tour along the Neches, they’ll point them out to you! That crew is impressive!

In May, two veterans interred at Evergreen Cemetery received headstones. The new headstones were for Sergeant George Shaw, who died in France during the Great War (WWI), and Jerry Lloyd, a Buffalo soldier who fought in the Indian wars. The replacement headstone for George Shaw was necessary because the original one erroneously stated that he was a private. Thanks to the research conducted by a member of our Jefferson County Historical Commission, a headstone with the correct information was sent, as Sergeant Shaw deserves. The situation with Jerry Lloyd’s headstone was a bit different; as far as we know, he never received one. If there was a regular one marking his grave, it had disappeared. Research confirms that he was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, but we’re unaware of his specific location.

In September, fallen Deputy John E. Hutcheson received a headstone in a ceremony at Magnolia Cemetery. Thanks to Operation Blue Remembrance (OBR) for making this happen and paying for it. OBR is a nonprofit organization from Baytown, 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 the graves of fallen officers in Texas and a few other states. OBR’s motto is Nemo Oblitus, which is Latin for “No One Forgotten.” The organization stepped in because neither the family nor the county had purchased a headstone for Deputy Hutcheson when he was buried in Magnolia Cemetery.

The 3rd Annual Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour was well received, with record attendance this year. The Texas Historical Commission even included us in its Project Spotlight publication. This is basically their way of giving county historical commissions throughout the state a shout-out for what they are doing to preserve history. This is excellent because a lot of people involved in the tour work tirelessly to preserve various aspects of our county’s history. The stories from the tour usually stem from their own research, and they do a wonderful job. See you next year for the fourth annual tour!

So, what’s in store for 2024? I have no idea, but I’m sure it will be full of shenanigans, history, and anime references that no one gets, but that’s okay. I do know that no one here will be participating in “dry January.” Cheers!

Thoughts and Ramblings: I’m Madeline Kahn Tired; Zooming with Aggies; Tarawa80; Ras Landry

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Mari Lwyd

Thanks to Florence for stepping in last week. I may have to post some Yule tidings and New Year shenanigans of hers because she did talk smack about Della’s husband in 1931. I have no idea what was going on in her life at the time, but she really brought it in her weekly letter.

This will probably be the final “Thoughts and Ramblings” blog of 2023 because I’m tired. Yep, Madeline Kahn tired. Also, there are a few things I need to tend to in December. Entertaining the Mari Lwyd and Krampus is not on the list, but you never know. They are both determined.

During the rain, a few meetings and my yearly AggieFest day, which this year I call “zooming with aggies,” because AgriLife Jefferson County offered an online version of their CEU recertification training. Gig ’em, if they let us do this every year. Hook ’em if they don’t. And no, I didn’t play checkers and solitaire with a computer all day! Maybe half a day. Shout-out to Don Renchie, professor and extension specialist at the Texas A&M AgriLife Extension Service. He does make things entertaining. I always enjoy his sarcasm about certain Texas and Louisiana universities.

Tuesday marks the 80th anniversary of the Battle of Tarawa, and we remember Port Arthur boy Hugo DeBretagne, who lost his life on D-day 3 of Operation Galvanic. I couldn’t find any specific information on his death in the war diaries released in 2012. I know that nine marines were killed that day, compared to the 1,000 that perished in the first two days of fighting. This wasn’t the first battle Hugo had been in. I assume he was in the Guadalcanal Campaign with the Second Marines. I do know that his brother was. Thankfully, James DeBretagne made it out of WWII alive, and he received the Purple Heart for Iwo Jima. Hugo DeBretagne was buried at sea. A memorial stone is located in Greenlawn Cemetery.

We also remember Beaumont resident Murray Anderson, who did survive and lived to write a book about his experiences during the conflict. Murray Anderson was born in Whitney, Texas, and grew up on his family’s farm in Deport, near Paris (also Texas). On the Tyler Knows Everything podcast, Murray said that he “was doing a man’s work at the farm at age six.” Whether cutting or picking cotton, milking the cows each morning, or picking corn, it was a rough life during the Depression. In the spring of 1942, when he was 17, his father died, and the farm became financially unviable. So, he moved with his mother and his sisters to Dallas. He had six sisters (four got married and lived in Dallas).

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

Murray Anderson moved to Beaumont in 1958 and wrote a book about his time in the Marine Corps. The Unrelenting Test of War is an excellent account of what he and his fellow marines faced.

Those of you who attended the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour in October were treated to Mr. Donald Smart’s talk on Ras Landry. Don is passionate about getting things right in his research, and that’s why having him on the tour (or in any events he volunteers at) is a plus. I would put him on a pedestal, but he gets mad at me for singing his praises—he may be right, because I can’t really sing, at least that’s what my kids say, but they’re not into WWII marching songs.

Don is the real deal when it comes to research because he is determined to find the truth. And I’m happy to share with you Ras’s story thanks to Don’s research.

Ras Landry was born in Newton County and moved to Rosedale, Jefferson County, as a child with his aunt. He was educated in public schools and worked as a young man in the cattle and lumber businesses. Eventually, he became a public servant, came up through the ranks, and served as sheriff of Jefferson County from 1900 to 1908. He was also a prominent oil operator in 1901, owning property at Spindletop, Sour Lake, and Humble. He served in the 32nd legislature of the State of Texas from 1911 to 1913.

Don found articles stating that Ras Landry was the town’s most colorful western character. He was fearless, yet as a moderate, he didn’t set himself up as a dictator. And he did care about his prisoners as sheriff. One time, a group called the White Capers, who were basically the Ku Klux Clan, took a prisoner from his jail. After Ras found out about this, nobody heard from this “organization” again on his watch.

In 1902, there was a riot in what was then called Little Africa, south of Glady’s City. Some roughnecks thought that Black workers were taking their jobs because Blacks were paid less. When they showed up drunk and ready to shoot, they found Ras Landry in front of them. They shot and missed, then they were arrested—Ras didn’t take crap from anyone. This episode is hilarious because Ras Landry said that he didn’t shoot back because they were drunk and “couldn’t shoot straight anyway.” This a great story, and he deserves an historical marker! Time will tell.

 Until next time!

Madeline Kahn Tired:

Mari Lwyd:  https://youtu.be/nKClW5TcLcs?si=3Vtbir6C0kKnrpgl

Krampus:  https://youtu.be/tuSrajd9D8k?si=jE-4BT8OcOA-cw3B

Don Renchie:  https://youtu.be/Cloh5lSUQ4I?si=I8Xl876Q2uC7k3dq

Battle of Tarawa:  https://youtu.be/QbX6Uvn2vME?si=879mXicVVdzC8dwu

Tyler Knows Everything Podcast/ Murray Anderson: https://youtu.be/JN-z-QB9TOg?si=bca_ZqoRH3jX9YBs

Thoughts and Ramblings: Susie Spindletop Edition II

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It’s been a busy week here, Under the Oakes on Ye Olde Block Farm. So I’ll be back next week with more nonsense and shenanigans. In the meantime, Susie is here to guide you through some SETX life in 1931.

                              Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter Snipetts 1931

Dear Della:

Right at the start I want to express my appreciation for your being present at the opening of the fair. Your husband wasn’t much to look at but he counted as one and that’s something.

Your children were very attractive at the beginning but with lolly pops, taffy candy and the results of a bad cold all mixed in one they would hardly have added anything to the art exhibition an hour later. Be that as it may, you started right by coming early so you can decide on where to spend your time looking things over during the remaining days of the fair. I’ve heard that the old bachelors will be quartered in what was formerly the livestock pens.

 *           *           *

Della: I’ve got a camel’s hair coat.

Della’s husband: Where’d you kill the camel?

                                              *           *           *

Good thing Thanksgiving is coming soon for the yallerlegged chickens have disappeared from this section. The Methodists have been here a few days in conference about what I was not informed.

And as usual, I had to make a break. Our former resident Dr. Mills, was here, and I congratulated him on becoming a circuit rider.

“Excuse me, sister,” said he, “I’m presiding elder.”

“Pardon me, elder,” said I,”I didn’t know you were that old.”

He hasn’t seen me since because I always see him first.

                                           November 8, 1931

Just because I’m fondly anticipating the day when I will be 21, the stork left his perch with the first blast of winter and made me wrong again.

Last week, I told you Mr. and Mrs. Joe Broussard had 21 grandchildren. I’ll admit that I was a little careless in not counting them myself, but some women forget to even powder their nose.

Honestly, I have never done anything to excite the enmity of Ruth and I.D. Polk, but they are responsible for my predicament. A son was born to them October 29, making a grand total of 22. That’s where I get out. I said total of 21 and not grand total, which, of course, would be 22

                                                November 1, 1931

Believe it or not, Della, but I helped to organize the Col. George Moffett chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, here 25 years ago. Or rather, I was present when it happened.

About all I can remember about it is that it happened at the home of Mrs. Rush Norvell, located where the Woodhead place now is. The chapter’ll be celebrating its silver jubilee this week at Mrs. Norvell’s. I do remember something was the matter with Mrs. Norvell’s fireplace, so the meeting was held in the dining room. The Manse at Staunton, Virginia, where Woodrow Wilson lived in the museum known as the little White House. Here is a sideboard that belonged to Col. George Moffett. “Tis a replica of the one at Mount Vernon.”

                                                   *                  *                 *

In trouble again. Mr. E.D. Leach writes from Ceres, New York, to say, “You are all wrong, LaSalle’s bones are reposing in Forest Lawn Memorial Park. That can be easily established. Why would anybody want to be found dead at the Country club? That isn’t what it’s for?”

I don’t like to get into an argument but when I had the explorer buried at the Country club don’t feel like digging up his bones and interring them somewhere else.

I’m now notifying Mr. Leach that La Salle was never in New York. He has in mind Peter Stuyvesant, the fella who bought Manhattan Island for $25

                                                             October 4, 1931

Della:

I’m convinced that Joe Lederer is a hayseed pure and simple. Last year he was in Chicago, went out to the stock yards when they were feeding the cattle, and immediately took to his bed with hay fever.

This season, he remained in Beaumont but somehow got a waft of new mown hay and immediately began to sneeze. Joe says hay fever is nothing to sneeze at but he just can’t help it.

  *                *                 *

Then I know a milliner who says the handling of feathers gives her the hay fever. It seems to me that this would be feather fever.

                                                      *                  *                *

That may be the reason the judge pined so much when he saw Maude Miller raking the new mown hay. He had hay fever and didn’t know it. It might have been!

                                                    September 27, 1931

“Maud Muller” is a poem from 1856 written by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892)

Dear Della:

Now, I’m in trouble over a little mesquite steer which caused my friend, Mr. Patterson of Junction, the creator of mesquite animals, to get into a trinity of trouble. He, armed with a trusty Colts, the dog armed with a vicious growl and the steer armed with vicious horns clashed in the stillness of that delightfull west Texas atmosphere. Now I feel I can realize the cautious creep of a man who thinks his home has been invaded, is still being invaded, and powder liable to be burned at any time. But let him tell the story.

My Dear Susie:

I am returning you, under separate cover, the mesquite steer with the wide, white horns, which you so kindly presented to me some weeks ago, and which rested with my choicer curios beside a rosewood musicbox. I thank you for it most sincerely, my friend.

It would today still be in its place, save for an incident fraught with terror for me and mine. Say what you want, my friend, the black details of this incident shall remain with us, to haunt us through the night, for many a month. I hasten first, however, to say that you were innocent of any thought that the facts I am about to transcribe here would occur. How could you possibly know… So, of course, I hold you blameless, but nevertheless these things did occur.

My wife and I, she upon the divan and I in my great grandfather’s comfy chair, had been listening to late night offerings on the radio. The music was soft charming. The living room was darkened save for a low brass lamp reminiscent of our old homes in the kerosene days. Outside, in the utter darkness of the avenue, a cricket chirped, not unpleasingly, in the damp depths of the old ligustrum. The last not of a song faded and the light was switched off.

The first peculiar thing I noticed was a strange sharp bark, and a low trouble growl from my little dog, followed by a terrifying yelp, and then, strangest to us of all, a complete stillness on her part. Our room, you know lies removed by the den, hallway, and the dining room from the living room… I had been thinking of Jacob’s supernatural story of , “The Monkey’s Paw,” a terrifying tale. Suddenly without a wisp of warning, came the sound of a furious commotion from the living room. I set down the fact, unabashed, that I was frozen paralyzed. I make no attempt to fictionize these facts. More after the fashion of a steel robot than a man my hand found my Colts and, guided. I think now, more by instinct, than by my own faculties, I made my way—I hardly know how—to the front of the house. Or, rather, I got part way. In a strange, sort of orange, red light, I saw the little mesquite animal grown to enormous size. The red nostrils were aflame with wrath. The horns were lowered, though they rose above the tops of my chairs…And then, and, then he came at me…and I felt something grasp me tightly…Then in a shudder I saw it all. The rest of the night I refrained from sleeping on my back.

Foolish am I , perhaps, but a thing like this is deep seated, and I ask you kindly to take back your steer. J.P.W.

                                                           *                 *                 *

I can appreciate his feelings for once upon a time I had an alley cat take possession of the house, the roof,the yard and all streets, and alleys leading thereto. But I had to fire a scream instead of a bullet from a trusted revolver.

                                                           *                 *                *

Now I think just for that I’ll give Mr. Patterson another job. The city zoo has adopted two lion cubs or the cubs have adopted the city, only time will tell. Anyway I’m sending him a picture of them and see if there’re any mesquite branches that look like them, after the said mesquite branch has passed through his artistic fingers.

                                                          *                *                   *

The trouble is he may make a lion so realistic that it will roar in the early morning hours and the trusty Colts revolver will be brought into play.

                                                         *                *                   *

And I have another job for him which cannot be executed until I take a long vacation. I will send him a picture of your husband for reproduction and let some one say that he got the inspiration from Noah’s Ark. Must arrange it so things will blow over somewhat I return.

                                                 September 20, 1931

Della, you often hear people say they have gotten to the end of the road. Well that’s m Good-bye

                  Susie

                                                 September 13, 1931

A Brief History of Florence Stratton Part 1:

A brief History of Florence Stratton part1

A Brief History of Florence Stratton Part 2:

A brief History of Florence Stratton part2

Maud Muller:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maud_Muller#:~:text=Throughout%20the%20rest%20of%20their,%22

Thoughts and Ramblings: Making My List and Checking It Twice, Florence Stratton, Martha Mack, Jeanette Catherina Stengele, and Kate Dorman v. Dutch Margaret

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Martha Mack

When November starts, I make a list of research projects to conduct in the winter months, when I have more time to dedicate to my studies. I make my list, check it twice, and then I usually never stick to it because I have too many rabbit holes to go through. The Mari Lwyd and the Belsnickel keep knocking at my door and interrupting me. I’ll admit that I welcome when the Mari Lwyd brings it! But she usually wins because I don’t rap, and I have enough alcohol as well as apple and carrot cinnamon muffins to share. As far as the Belsnickel goes, I have no idea why he is around because there are no children here to use his switch on. Yes, I’ve probably been bad, but he has a tiny stick taken from a tree, and I have a Katana—four actually. At least Krampus and I get along. We respect each other, and we are both disgruntled with St. Nick. I’ll leave links at the bottom of this blog post for those not in the know.

Florence Stratton 1907

Florence Stratton

I’ve been researching Susie Spindletop since 2012, and I continue to discover new clues in her life, such as the location of the town/railroad stop that Eunice, her niece, said was named after her. Yes, Eunice, I’m still eating crow for this discovery, but I’m glad to have learned about its existence in Hardin County.

This winter I want to continue working on having a digital copy of every Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter. I have most of them, but some are illegible on microfilm. This is why I will be searching for all the ones I can get from the online newspaper archive. Concerning the rest, I will make a list and send it to the Sam Houston Regional Library and Research Center, where the original copies of the Beaumont Enterprise are held. After I have all the weekly letters, I will submit my research to the Tyrrell Historical Library.

All my research can be found at the Jefferson County Historical Commission, plus a few other places, in case I die after consuming too many Zummo sausages. My doctor is from New York, and she has a problem with Zummo sausages because they are not like the German sausages she grew up on, but she is not German. It’s okay, because I am also not German, and I have a problem with SETX kolaches. “How dare you call a pig in a blanket a kolache?” I say with my best Greta Thunberg voice and frown. (If you don’t know who Greta is, don’t worry. You’re not missing much, and I won’t have a link at the bottom of the blog.) Also, where are the pastries? When you know your food, then you know. I will add that the true kolaches, both meat or pastry, are made in Central Texas. Shout-out to Schulenburg and Fredericksburg.

Martha Mack

Last year, Martha Mack Cemetery was added to the Magnolia Cemetery Tour because its history overlaps with that of the Pipkin section of Magnolia. Here is its history.

For much of the 20th century, many African American Beaumonters began their education at Pipkin Elementary School on Pine Street. In 1911, when Millard Elementary School for Whites was assigned a new brick structure, its old two-story wooden building was moved to the Pipkin site on Pine Street. This building was also replaced by a brick structure in the 1920s. In 1974, the City of Beaumont acquired the school and its land and demolished the building in 1981. The property was sold to Magnolia Cemetery in 1999.

Pipkin Elementary School was named for Woodson Pipkin, who, along with Charles Pole Charlton, founded the first locally operated Black school in Beaumont. Pipkin was a former enslaved person who had received an education and realized the importance of literacy for the emancipation of African Americans. A Methodist minister, he cofounded an African Methodist Episcopal church, which also served as an education center. Pipkin also made his living as a teamster, clearing roads and hauling goods with his horse and mule teams. He lived in a two-story home on Main Street, near where the Beaumont police station is today. Woodson Pipkin died in 1918 and was buried in Martha Mack Cemetery.

We are still trying to find out if all those interred in Martha Mack Cemetery were moved. There are some documents that state that some of them were moved to Evergreen Cemetery, but we can’t confirm this. This must be addressed because the cemetery area needs to be cleaned up.

I haven’t even mentioned that Martha’s history is also a bit of a mystery. I talk about the veil thinning around this time, but boy was it thinning last year with the amount of information that came through on Martha. One thing I like is that her family is also researching her story, and we aim to share it. I put Martha in the same category as Florence Stratton and Catherina Stengele. They were all women who took no crap, but Martha’s path was harder, and I think that some sort of article and/or paper is necessary to tell her story. This will happen.

Jeanette Catherina Stengele

I need to get back to researching Catherina because there are still some unanswered questions about her life, her country of birth, and why it took until the 1980s for her twelve plots around the mausoleum to be tiled. The best line during the Magnolia Cemetery Tour came from the Jefferson County Historical Commission’s own Jerrilynn Miller, who played Catherina. Her explanation for having twelve plots all for herself was priceless: “Because a girl needs her space.”

I also want to go back and look at old research that I haven’t touched in years. One bit of history that I would like to find out more about is the Old Dutch Margaret v. Kate Dorman case. W. T. Block is my only source on this, and I would love to acquire more information concerning it. Apparently, Dutch Margaret was assaulted by someone with a parasol after she entered Kate’s restaurant talking trash. I’ll leave W. T.’s take on it in the links.

There are other things I would like to research. In the end, time will tell, and I have little time.

Until next week, Remember!

 Holloa, boys! holloa, boys! make the bells ring!
 Holloa, boys! holloa boys! God save the King!
 Hip, hip, hooor-r-r-ray!

Belsnickel: https://youtu.be/SfFXzkUV2ok?si=3_VlDU8TLyOk19yO

Mari Lwyd: https://youtu.be/VRRJC2ZaVX0?si=-fYKLe_McvIl-akt

Krampus explained: https://youtu.be/VbkGuCozc9M?si=xE1L6OU7Ee-gCwtE

Woodson Pipkin and Pipkin School: https://www.sfasu.edu/heritagecenter/9619.asp

Kate Dorman and Dutch Margaret: http://www.wtblock.com/wtblockjr/catherin.htm

Thoughts and Ramblings: Ground-Penetrating Radar Survey Results, Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour, Walking Tours in the Cemetery, and Gypsies

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The ground-penetrating radar (GPR) survey that I was part of in March and April at the Sabine Pass cemeteries has produced some results. Although known graves were detected, nothing was found in the yellow fever mass grave, which is where the survey initially sought bodies. The conclusion is as follows:

Although we were successful in getting adequate GPR penetration on the single grave transects, we were not able to locate any mass graves in grids 1, 2, or 3. Based on William Theodore Block’s information, we should try to obtain permission from the landowner to GPR the Jeanette LaBove tract.

I’m not in the know concerning this project, and I will delve into it more in the future. What I can say now is that the aerial photo marked as indicating William Theodore Block’s area (where the mass grave is) shows the exact land that the team must be given permission to survey. Yes, I assumed that the graves were where we did the GPR survey, but couldn’t we have asked for permission before doing a grid search of Port Arthur’s concrete landfill? This is ongoing!

Last week’s historic cemetery tour at Magnolia Cemetery was a success. More people showed up this year than in previous years. The event is growing thanks to you. I must also credit those behind the scenes and our growing number of passionate researchers and volunteers. The original tour began in 2014 when Judy Linsley and I did a walking tour for the docents of the McFaddin-Ward House Museum. Thanks to everyone involved!

I will throw out this question. Would you be interested in group walking tours throughout the year? I say this because walking tours have their own appeal. Certainly, you can add a lot more history to them, as we did last year on the Friday tour after the lecture at the McFaddin-Ward House Museum. Originally, there were supposed to be two cemetery walking tours held thirty minutes apart. Judy Linsley and I were to take twenty people on each tour and walk from the office to the hill. However, some emails got mixed up (people also just see what they want to see in emails…), so we were forced to do one tour. I will say that this was probably one of the best tours that I’ve been a part of. Since Judy knows the original family plots on the hill better than I do, she took her group up there and talked for thirty minutes, while I led my group around the lower part and presented those residents. It worked out well because if you want to know about the people buried on the hill, Judy is the person to listen to. I know the people and the stories around the office and the flagpole. We agreed that we would do a prisoner exchange at the thirty-minute mark in the middle of the tour area, at the Keith plot where Tom “the Tramp” is interred. It was my idea to transfer the people on the tour between the two of us. I thought that by listening to guides who know their subject matters, the visitors would have a better experience. It was also me who called it a “prisoner exchange.” This is how my mind works, so consider this if you want me to speak at your event.

Catherina Stengele Mausoleum

Mary Oxford Englander wrote a piece in the 1991 Texas Gulf Historical and Biographical Record that I find intriguing. I would have loved to know her sources. I say this because she notes “personal interviews” among her sources. Well, as far as I know, none of these were recorded oral histories. Now, we can’t research some of these claims because there is no one left to ask. This is why recorded oral histories are essential! The whole article looks like it was written by a local photojournalist who shows up and screws up the piece even though you gave them the facts and the actual book of facts. It is possible the interviewee provided her with good information, but the dates and the times are wrong. It is not too hard to go out to the cemetery and look at Jeanette Catherina Stengele’s mausoleum to check when she died. It was 1909, not 1904. However, I will give a pass to both on the subject of Stengele because she lied about her age, even in death. The birth year, which says she was born in 1866, should actually read 1856.

My main questions are for Billy King, who managed the cemetery for years; unfortunately, they won’t be answered because he’s dead. This is how historical preservation works, people! I do have a source at the cemetery who has been there for years, and every time he opens his mouth, I need to write down the nuggets of history he offers. I see an oral history in his future, like it or not, because people need to learn about his knowledge. I did find out where the gypsies or someone else did their juju magic in the cemetery. The article mentions gypsies visiting the site and pouring whiskey on the hallowed ground of a friend or family member. The cemetery told them to stop, but they kept doing it because they were gypsies. An unmarked above-ground vault near a sago palm was usually the location for the burned-out candles as the cemetery staff showed up for work in the morning. It has been years since this has happened, but it went on all the same. It is still a mystery why someone would frequently burn candles on that grave. I guess we will never know.

Concerning ghosts haunting the cemetery, I have one story from 2016 that I will tell. The day before one of our Heritage Society tours, I was out making sure that everything was set up. I started driving down the road left of section W when my better half saw a lady in period clothes walk across the road behind the truck. This kind of freaked her out, but since living under the oaks at Ye Olde Block Farm, she has grown to see different things here. We are used to the regular culprits, especially when we do restorations.

Until next week. Nos Galan Gaeaf, Happy Halloween, and Samhain blessings.

Thoughts and Ramblings: Wings over Houston; The Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour

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Don Smart presenting Ras Landry.

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.

Until then, Catherina was Dutch!

Tot volgende week!

Wings Over Houston 2023: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjAYykP

Lunar Eclipse 2019: https://flic.kr/s/aHskQS3gxh

Lunar Eclipse 2018: https://flic.kr/s/aHsmdpLbdY

Lunar Eclipse October 2014: https://flic.kr/s/aHsk4pnSod

Lunar Eclipse April 2014: https://flic.kr/s/aHsjX69oPV

Thoughts and Ramblings: Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour Lineup; Too Soon to Carve Turnips

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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

2013 https://flic.kr/s/aHsjLufFaP

2014  https://flic.kr/s/aHsk5BkJk1

Thoughts and Ramblings: Cemetery Tours, Ghost Tours, Reid Tevis, Wings over Houston, Texas Raiders Memorial, and the Legend of Bragg Road

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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.

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/16044144/reid-tevis

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.

Niitakayama nobore 新高山登る一二○八:

https://todayshistorylesson.wordpress.com/2010/12/02/climb-mount-niitaka/

Montgomery County Veterans Memorial (MCVM) Park:

https://www.facebook.com/honoredmission

Wings Over Houston 2022; Tora! Tora! Tora! WWII Demo:

Tora Tora Tora Airshows

https://toratoratora.com/

Thoughts and Ramblings: CavOILcade; John Gates; the Legend of Sarah Jane Road; Halloween on Nineteenth Street in Port Arthur

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CavOILcade Parade Date Unknown

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.

(See Legend of Kisselpoo.)

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2012/08/31/legend-of-kisselpoo/

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

By Judith Linsley:

https://www.sfasu.edu/heritagecenter/9328.asp

CavOILcade: https://cavoilcade.com/

John W. Gates:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Warne_Gates

Thoughts and Ramblings: October; Deputy Hutcheson; Research and Obsessions

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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.

Until next time.

12 News Now: 

https://www.12newsnow.com/article/news/local/jefferson-county-deputy-headstone-line-of-duty/502-62a9be17-70a9-45db-ba2c-1d14104b145e

Fox 4 Beaumont:

https://fox4beaumont.com/news/headstone-dedication-for-deputys-grave-nearly-a-century-after-line-of-duty-death