Tag Archives: #SETX

Thoughts and Ramblings: SS Texaco Oklahoma; Gulf of Venezuela; Eagle Otome; Godspeed to Those Wanting to See the Eclipse

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Last week was the fifty-third anniversary of the SS Texaco Oklahoma sinking. Obviously, the Oklahoma was a Texaco tanker. It sunk off Cape Hatteras in high seas on its way from Port Arthur to Boston. I’ll leave a few links at the bottom of this blog. Many of the crew who perished were from Port Arthur and nearby communities. Thanks to Fr. Sinclair Oubre for keeping their stories alive and to the Port Arthur International Seafarers’ Center for being a lighthouse for mariners who are in port and want to go shopping and spend money locally. Unlike other independent taxi services, they transport the crews without charging hefty fees. Ten or fifteen dollars is a lot better than eighty or one hundred. What say you?

There is another anniversary coming up, and I know this because a few years ago, I was walking the grounds of Greenlawn Cemetery in Groves and came across a tribute memorial stone. (Apparently, I do this a lot. I can’t enter a cemetery and not find something that catches my eye.) The stone in question is for the Gulf Refining Company employees who lost their lives in the Gulf of Venezuela fire. This tanker was a Gulf ship docked in Port Arthur in 1926. On the morning of April 11, at about three in the morning, there was a bit of a problem.

Just before the explosion on the Venezuela Sunday morning, which cost the lives of 27, the last tank being filled overflowed on the deck, [as] established this afternoon in the testimony of L. W. Williams, night dock foreman at the Gulf refinery, and L. W. McFaddin, dockman, both on duty at the time.

I’ll leave some photos of the newspaper articles. This was certainly a tragedy on a big scale. It reminds me of what happened to the tugboat Chief in November 1936. My great-uncle was employed at the Magnolia Refinery as a fireman on that tugboat and was waiting at the Atreco docks (the Total docks nowadays) for a tanker to arrive to bring to Beaumont. The Chief was a wooden tug, probably built in 1893, so it was not equipped with the best 1936 technology. I guess it wouldn’t have mattered because someone turned on the gasoline hose and the fuel spewed onto the tug and spilled into the engine room where my uncle and the cook, Paul Harris, were.

In the end, my uncle drowned, so he must have got out of the engine room to jump in the water. I have all the newspaper articles about the incident and what happened later. I will not go through all the family stuff, but I will say that when I was inquiring about my uncle’s death certificate, I discovered that a client of mine owned the house he lived in back in 1936, and I’ve been working there occasionally for the past twenty years or so. I’ll leave a link about the tugboat Chief as well.

Since this has organically become a maritime blog, I want to make an observation on the tragedy that happened on March 26 in Maryland. To those not in the know, the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsed after the container ship MV Dali lost power and hit one of its piers. The bridge went down like a house of cards, leaving a major international port and four military ships trapped for who knows how long. My observation is as follows: Why in the hell didn’t they put concrete pilings (dolphins) next to the structure? At first glance, I didn’t even see the dolphins near the piers—because there aren’t any. Oh well, I’m in Texas.

The Martin Luther King Bridge as well as the Rainbow and Veterans Memorial Bridges have them. You would have to take them out strategically. I’m sure the Texas Department of Transportation is on the ball when it comes to the Houston ship channel (gasp).

Thanks to Sam Bronson Cooper, U.S. congressman and father of Willie Cooper Hobby, the Port of Beaumont is a thing and has grown into the fourth busiest port in the United States; it is also a military hub. Things happen, including the Eagle Otome in January 2010. It lost power and hit a barge just after sailing under the Martin Luther King Bridge. I especially remember this because I spent the next day working on Pleasure Island, smelling crude oil in the northerly winds after a cold front moved in. I will spare you of my time working for the Corp of Engineers.

To those ready to see the partial solar eclipse in this area and to those paying big money to have a great experience seeing it in central Texas: good luck and Godspeed. According to all the Aggie weather peeps, it will be raining. If it is raining, I have a few lunar eclipse photos. I always enjoy lunar eclipses, or maybe it’s just the Pink Floyd music! Also, if you’re in a location where you can see the partial eclipse but have no glasses, just look down at the ground. Whatever the shape of the sun, you can see it under a tree. The shadow of the leaves forms the shape of the eclipse. Prove me wrong!

Until next week, Live Long and Prosper!

Texaco Oklahoma:

Click to access texoklahoma.pdf

https://www.hartenergy.com/exclusives/ss-texaco-oklahoma-among-lessons-learned-maritime-safety-18234

Tugboat Chief:

Tugboat Chief

Eagle Otome photos:

https://flic.kr/s/aHsjpmys2t

Thoughts and Ramblings: Middle Passage Marker; 50th Anniversary Historic Homes Tour; So Said Susie on Easter Sunday

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There’s a new marker in Martin J. Popeye Holmes Park in front of the sub-courthouse. It was installed and dedicated last Saturday by the African American Cultural Society and the Middle Passage Ceremonies and Port Markers Project. The marker states that its purpose is to “Commemorating the Lives of African Ancestors Who Perished During the Middle Passage and Those Who Survived and Were Transported Through Sabine Pass, Texas” (1817–1837).

Seeing the wording of the marker makes more sense to me now because I heard in November that the organizations wanted to put up a marker in Port Arthur. It makes sense that it was a passage through Sabine Pass because, at that time, there was no Port Arthur, nor any other town or port existing on the northern banks of Lake Sabine. The township of Aurora came later, but it was wiped out by the hurricane of 1886.

To my knowledge, slave traders, such as Jean Lafitte, usually used the land where the city of Prairie View (Bridge City) would develop, and around Deweyville, on the Sabine River. For those not in the know, yes, Jean Lafitte was a slave trader. I guess that changes your search for his treasure—I digress. Note, I’m not a fan of anything French, especially if they’re running slave ships for the Spaniards—my twenty-four percent Spanish ancestry digresses as well.

According to their Facebook page, the Middle Passage Ceremonies and Port Markers Project was supposed to dedicate this marker on December 1, but I’m sure things happen, like markers not being ready at the foundry. I’m not in the know, but it’s up and in a good place to see it. I will add a link to the Port Arthur News article written by Mary Meaux. I also want to add this quote by Gail Pellum, president of the African American Culture Society: “You can’t let [history] go. If you don’t learn from it, you will repeat it and it will not be good on either side.”

As someone interested in many histories, this is the truest quote that you will hear. This is why it is important to remember all histories and learn from the past, as there are those who will try to repeat it.

The Galveston Historical Foundation finally released the addresses of this year’s 50th Historic Homes Tour. I, for one, am ecstatic to see a home on the tour that I volunteered at in 2018. It was the cover house that year, and according to the owner, it’s haunted, but don’t tell the GHF because they don’t like people talking about that—or so I was told a few years ago. It was also the house where the neighbor’s cat used to hang out on Sunday mornings in the nice Catholic church (which looks like a mosque) and then look for dinner. That year, he hung out in the front yard and dined on a bird that he’d caught. I can’t say it was much fun for the lines of people waiting to enter the house. I saw him the following year on the tour, as there was a house on the tour about a block away. He certainly got around and loved the attention.

All the houses look great, and I’m ready to tour these gems. I am also ready to volunteer! I will be at the 1871 Frederick and Minna Martini Cottage at 1217 Market Street on the first Sunday, so stop by! I hope to see you there. The Galveston Historical Foundation is always looking for volunteers, so if you think you might be interested in volunteering for this tour or other projects they have going on, I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog.

It’s Easter Sunday, and I hope you and your peeps are doing well. As a closer, I’ll let Susie Spindletop finish the blog, as she knows she has to carry me sometimes. Who does that better? Well, Susie, of course!

                                                   March 28, 1932

OLD-TIME Easter in Beaumont meant seeing Mrs. Messenger drive in from Rosedale with her buggy filled with dogwood, honeysuckle and palmettoes to trim St. Mark’s church. One year Mrs. Messenger created a sensation by managing to get a calla lilly to bloom in time for Easter.

Dr. Messenger was the rector who held the service here one Sunday and in Orange the next. He swelled his salary by raising fine fruit.

                                *                                       *                                    *

NOW, Della, did you ever hear of live chickens being party favors? I didn’t either until I learned that Elizabeth Tyrrell gave them away at her Easter party. Ann Page Carey named hers Susie. Thank you, Ann Page.

                               *                                        *                                    *

Did I tell you that I hear that Lois Cunningham has bought the C. F Graham senior house corner of McFaddin and Fifth? Ruth and I.D. Polk are living there now, but some day I predict Mrs. Cunningham and Lois will move in.

When I first came to Beaumont it was the A.L. Williams home.

                                          March 28, 1937

Easter gives us one diversion. Instead of arguing over which came first, the hen or the egg—we can switch off to the rabbit and the egg!

                                   *                            *                            *

Every Easter brings forth a different egg. Just a few years ago everybody speculated on what the minister’s wife was going to wear Sunday, or what tie Mr. Flapjacks would sport. Then came the day of movie stars and they do some strutting for they don’t have to depend on papa or hubby to open up diplomatic relations with the milliner and dress maker.

Take Constance Worth featured in “China passage” falls for sport effect with a little Juliet cap of bright colored raffia instead of sports hat with her simple silk, which is belted in braided Raffia.

Remembering the late news from Ethiopia with Ras this and Ras that we should change raffia to raf.

Della, I had to stop here to keep all these dress names from driving me to the tung nut house.

 *                         *                             *

Today, Easter will be exactly 12 hours and 23 minutes long. You spend 12 hours dolling up to show off 23 minutes.

SUSIE.

Port Arthur News: Middle Passage Marker

Middle Passage Marker in Port Arthur commemorates ancestors, provides history of local slave trade

Jean Lafitte:

https://www.battlefields.org/learn/biographies/jean-lafitte

50th Historic Homes Tour:

Galveston Historic Homes Tour

Galveston Historical Foundation Volunteer Opportunities:

GHF Volunteer Opportunities

Florence Stratton (Susie Spindletop):

Thoughts and Ramblings: Florence Stratton Was Related to SFA; Save Our Babies, Mystery Solved; Mr. Bossier Moved Part of the Windsor Hotel to Sabine Avenue in Port Arthur; Galveston Historic Homes Tour

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This Thursday was Florence Stratton’s birthday. She would have been—um, well, that’s not important (she would lie about her age anyway, so we will not spread the facts about her longevity). I will say that she was born in Brazoria County in 1881 to Asa and Lousia Waldman Stratton, and she was educated at Troy Normal College in Troy, Alabama, which is now Troy University. Another tidbit of information that is less known is that she was related, by marriage, to Stephen F. Austin (SFA). We’re kinda going to get into the “I’m My Own Grandpa” scenario, but it is true. Sarah Emily Stratton, the daughter of Florence’s grandfather Major Asa Stratton Sr., married Sam Bryon. Sam’s great-uncle was Stephen F. Austin. So, in a twisted sort of way, this made Florence related to SFA. Thank you, Willie Nelson, for the background music as I write this. Link at the bottom of the blog.

Speaking of Florence, another mystery has been solved thanks to fellow researcher Kate Hambright. Kate noticed that Genealogy Bank, a newspaper archive that most of us use, finally updated its access to the Beaumont Enterprise. The website was missing the years 1912–1919. Now that we can access these years, I’ll do a few searches I’ve meant to do for a long time. One will be on Florence Stratton. The second one will concern Mary Sandell being elected superintendent in 1918. With the third, I want to find more information on the Milk and Ice Fund, which began in 1915. We are certain that it was formed on June 26, 1915, because Kate found the original article stating this.

Organization of the “Save Our Babies” free ice and milk campaign inaugurated by The Journal was perfected this morning. Working in co-operation with the United Charities, The Journal has selected a committee of women, representative of all sections of the city, and it will be the duty of this committee to investigate all cases of suffering babies and children reported, arrange for the distribution of ice and milk by the dealers operating in those sections of the city, and make a report at the end of each month on the number of cases relieved and the exact amount expended for this relief. (Beaumont Enterprise, June 26, 1915)

On a side note, the Genealogy Bank access to these years from the Beaumont Journal has not been updated, but I do see a trip to the Tyrrell Historical Library in my future since I have the actual date of the organization’s formation, which I want to check out on their microfilms. The other charity Florence was involved in, the Empty Stocking Fund, which was formed in 1920, originated from this campaign. You could say the latter morphed into the former. United Charities was also there aiding this campaign. I doubt that Beaumont was the first city to have a milk and ice fund because I have seen relevant articles also in the San Antonio Light from 1915. It is possible that Florence brought the idea to our area as she had ties to San Antonio; she also had unlimited knowledge of and resources in the newspaper business, as well as ties to politicians.

A couple of weeks ago, while going through maps of early Sabine Pass, I rediscovered a photo of the Windsor Hotel that I had originally found in the Jefferson County Historical Commission archives. I also found a copy of a handwritten map and a note from the owner of a property in Port Arthur. Mr. Bossier, who owned a property on Sabine Avenue in Port Arthur, was relocating the wood from the hotel after its demolition to build a structure on his land. The house on Sabine Avenue was located between Gulfway Drive and Lewis Drive. I passed this property many times, and I always thought it was out of place. Now I know why it looked different—it was because of the round arches. Those I’ve spoken to have told me that it was a rental house for years, but now it has been demolished. I do have a photo of it.

For the past few weeks, my inbox has been full of emails about Galveston this week and Galveston that week. Things are afoot in Lafitte’s old hangout. I also noticed more traffic on my blog, Rediscovering SETX. I guess that when you write a post entitled “Visiting the Mansard House,” it gets the attention of other people, not your regulars. Thanks to the Cordrays, Save 1900, and the Mansard House for organizing last week’s event. I’ll be looking forward to their new episodes on Restoring Galveston. I can’t overstate that they did a wonderful job restoring the Mansard House.

More Galveston emails pertained to the 50th Annual Historic Homes Tour. I already have my marching orders—that is, I know which house I will be marching in front of with my clipboard and clicker. However, even though I will have a clipboard, I will not be in charge. Our leader is Bev, the Candy Lady, and she is the reason I volunteer. If you know her, then you know.

Like you, I am waiting for the house list of the tour, which is supposed to be released in mid-March. As I write this post on Florence’s birthday, I have not seen it updated. I know what house I will be at, but I will not spill the beans on the secrets of the Galveston Historical Foundation—not that I actually know any of their secret handshakes or stuff like that. Until they release the list, we will be in the dark. With that said, I already have my boots-on-the-ground plans for May 4, and the blog will be there on Sunday morning to send you in the right direction on Cinco de Mayo and the second weekend of the tour. We love both taking the Annual Historic Homes Tour and volunteering at it, and we will continue our coverage until Mama Theresa’s runs out of large pepperoni, hamburger, and mushroom with extra cheese pizzas for our dinner while we wait in line at the ferry to go home.

Until next week!

Thoughts and ramblings: U.S.S. Texas, Sam Bronson Cooper, Mansard House, International Women’s Day

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Photo Credit: Stephen Rivers Battleship Texas Foundation Group Facebook Page

On Tuesday, the USS. Texas was moved from her 18-month refit on a Gulf Copper dry dock in Galveston to a water dock at the same shipyard for interior and deck repairs. One of the most important restorations will be restoring the ship’s pine deck to its original historical specifications. They will also be renovating the interior, such as the restrooms, which would be a plus if you’re going to be a museum ship. I added a few videos of the move on Tuesday, which I was unable to attend because I have a job most of the time, but that morning, I was at the Relaxation Station at Central Mall—because when carpal tunnel and shoulder pain become allies, you need more than Tylenol.

One recurring fodder that the Battleship Texas Foundation keeps regurgitating is that, when the ship is finished, they’ll tell you where it is going to dock. I can tell you exactly where it will be moored. And here’s an overview photo of where it will be placed in all its glory! It will be next to the Elissa at Pier 21. I don’t know why they are doing this. It’s annoying, and it looks like they’re trying to hide something. As far as I know, they plan to reopen to the public in late summer 2025.  I’m going to make the call that it will be spring 2026 before a public opening is allowed. That’s okay with me. Just do things right, and come on, Texas!

Samuel Bronson Cooper was a prominent figure in the political landscape of both Texas and Washington during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Born on May 30, 1850, in Caldwell County, Kentucky, Cooper moved with his family to Woodville, Tyler County, Texas, that same year. By his early 20s, he was establishing himself as a respected lawyer. In 1871, at age 21, he was admitted to the bar, and in 1872, he began private practice. He served as prosecutor for Tyler County from 1876 to 1880, and in 1881, he was elected to the Texas Senate, where he served for four years.

As an aside, the story that interests me the most at this point is that Asa Stratton was also serving in the Texas Senate at the time. If that name rings a bell, as it should, Asa was the father of journalist Florence Stratton. I believe this was the crossroads where Florence and Samuel’s daughter Willie would eventually meet and become friends in their youth. Throw in W. P. Hobby’s living and growing up in Woodville, and we have a history in the making that I’ve spent many hours (years) researching!

In 1885, Cooper was appointed as the collector of internal revenue for the First District of Texas in Galveston by President Grover Cleveland, where he served for three years. He ran for Texas state district judge in 1888 but was unsuccessful. His political prowess wasn’t yet done. Samuel would go on to seek a higher calling.

 In 1893, Samuel B. Cooper was elected to the United States House of Representatives, representing Texas’s 2nd Congressional District as a Democrat. During his tenure in Congress, Cooper championed several issues important to Texas, including agriculture, land-use policies, and transportation infrastructure. He played a significant role in securing federal funding for projects such as railroad expansion and the improvement of navigable waterways, which were vital to the state’s economic development. His tenure would end in 1905, when he lost the election to Moses L. Broocks, but his absence was brief. He would be back in the US House of Representatives in 1907 and serve until 1909.  I will mention here that during this time, Sam Bronson Cooper is the reason Beaumont has a deep water port.

Cooper was nominated by President William Howard Taft for a seat on the Board of General Appraisers in May 1910. He was confirmed by the US Senate on May 24, 1910. His service was terminated by his death on August 21, 1918.

Well, those Cordray kids have done a thing and become hoteliers. If you have access to the Discovery App, then you may have seen their restoration of the Mansard House. I only mention this because the Mansard House will be open to the public for tours on March 16 and 17 from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. each day. The cost of the tour is $25 per person. All proceeds will be donated to Restoring Galveston Together—a nonprofit that funds home repairs for local families in need! I’ll be there—how out you!

Speaking of Galveston and families in need, I can’t forget my tour of the Sealy Mansion in 2013. Magnolia Sealy was the wife of George Sealy, an entrepreneur, and she opened up the Sealy mansion during the Great Storm of 1900. Magnolia opened her doors to 200 people, giving them food and shelter when those whose homes were still standing did not. And she let them stay for a few months, while other well-to-do individuals turned their backs on Galvestonians. I put her high on my list of SETX women who made a difference for good. You don’t hear this story very often, but it’s true and it happened.

Magnolia Willis Sealy is pictured. In 1875 Magnolia Willis Sealy married George Sealy. George and his brother John  Sealy were wealthy Galveston businessmen with extensive interests in cotton, banking, and  railroads. It is generally believed that the Magnolia Petroleum Company, owned by John’s son  John Hutchings Sealy, was named for his aunt Magnolia Willis Sealy. That company would later  merge into the Mobil Oil Corporation, and today it is Exxon-Mobil.

Magnolia’s story could have fit into my Friday blog for International Women’s Day, but truth be told, I wanted to go more international, and the stories I chose are actually my favorites. The Nachthexen were laughed at and dismissed by their male counterparts, yet they fought and died, achieving victory on two fronts—victory over the Wehrmacht and their Soviet male comrades.

The Trung sisters fought against Chinese tyranny. Trained by their father in military tactics, they taught peasants to fight with weapons and for their freedom. This is a unique story in the world of combat, witnessing two women instructing others to defend their land.

Boudica had no problem defending her land, especially after the Romans killed her husband. Again, the Romans dismissed her army as minimal, but they paid the ultimate price in the beginning. (Never diss this miss!)

I will also throw out the names of Jane Long (Mother of Texas) and Kate Dorman because there are no others that can size up to these Texans.

Until next week!

U.S.S. Texas—Enjoy!

Samuel Bronson Cooper:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_B._Cooper

Mansard House:

https://www.themansardhouse.com/

Jane Herbert Wilkinson Long:

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

International Women’s Day:

It’s International Women’s Day; Nachthexen; Boudica; The Trung Sisters; Jane Long; Catherine Magill Dorman

It’s International Women’s Day; Nachthexen; Boudica; The Trung Sisters; Jane Long; Catherine Magill Dorman

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It’s International Women’s Day, so I can cross borders with my regional blog. (I don’t make the rules!) Florence Stratton, the Beaumont newspaper journalist who wrote for both the Enterprise and the Journal, crossed borders in 1920 with her best friend Willie Cooper-Hobby and her husband, Texas Governor W. P. Hobby. They went to Mexico to see Álvaro Obregón Salido being sworn in as the country’s nuevo presidente. Florence had a knack for mingling, but it was done on Willie’s tab at first, or should I say on that of Sam Bronson Cooper, Willie’s father. He was a congressman, which is why his daughter Willie and her friend Florence went to Washington DC to do socialite things, such as going to a party at the White House in 1908. I should also state that thanks to Sam Cooper, Beaumont has a deep-water port. I’ll leave a link in Sunday’s blog.

Nachthexen

During World War II, the Night Witches emerged as a formidable force in the Soviet Union’s 588th Night Bomber Regiment. Made up entirely of women, this courageous regiment struck fear into the hearts of its Nazi adversaries. Operating obsolete biplanes under the cover of darkness, they executed daring bombing raids, relentlessly harassing German troops on the eastern front. Flying low to avoid detection, they faced constant danger from enemy fire. Despite the odds, the Night Witches displayed unparalleled bravery and resilience, and their stealthy, lethal attacks earned them their nickname. Their extraordinary feats continue to inspire awe and admiration, and they highlight the indomitable spirit of women in wartime. I will also add that Yevdokiya Yakovlevna Rachkevich traced the regiment’s path during the war and managed to locate the remains of some of the women who were listed as missing in action so that they could receive proper burials.

Boudica

Boudica, the Celtic warrior queen of the Iceni tribe, remains a symbol of rebellion and defiance against Roman oppression during the first century in Britain. After the brutal annexation of her kingdom and the mistreatment of her family, Boudica led a fierce uprising against Roman forces. With her rallying cry for freedom, she united various tribes in a formidable resistance, wreaking havoc on Roman settlements and armies. Despite facing overwhelming odds, Boudica struck fear into the hearts of her enemies with leadership and determination. Although her rebellion was eventually crushed, her legacy endures as a symbol of courage and resistance against tyranny. Don’t ever dis this miss!

The Trung Sisters

Trưng Trắc and Trưng Nhị are legendary figures in Vietnamese history. They are revered for their bravery and leadership during the first century. During the Chinese domination of their country, these sisters ignited a widespread rebellion and united Vietnamese clans against their oppressors. Fearless in battle, these charismatic leaders led their army to numerous victories, reclaiming territory and inspiring hope among their people. Even though they were eventually defeated, they are still remembered as symbols of Vietnamese independence and female empowerment. The Trung sisters’ unwavering spirit continues to inspire generations, reminding the world of the power of determination and unity in the face of adversity.

Jane Long

A pioneer and heroine of early Texas, Jane Long embodied resilience and courage during the tumultuous nineteenth century. Jane arrived in Texas in 1819 with her husband James Long, and she faced the challenges of frontier life with determination. Following her husband’s death and the outbreak of the Texas Revolution, Jane found herself a widow with children in a hostile land. However, she refused to succumb to despair, becoming a symbol of strength and self-reliance. Her ingenuity and resourcefulness—she delivered her own child in a difficult situation—epitomized the pioneer spirit. Jane Long’s legacy is integral to Texas history, and it showcases the indomitable spirit of its early settlers.

Catherine Magill Dorman

Kate arrived in Southeast Texas in 1851. Most historians believe that she lived in Sabine as early as 1847; however, the census records of her home state of Georgia show that both Kate and her husband, Arthur Magill, were still living there as late as 1850.

In 1852, Kate and her husband built the Catfish Hotel, a two-story dwelling located about three hundred yards from Fort Griffin. The hotel housed around two dozen permanent residents, along with the standard passing trade, which comprised merchants and seamen.

The Catfish had a wharf where steamers would dock regularly to indulge in the fare at the hotel’s popular eatery. During the Civil War, one patron, a certain William Berry Duncan (confederate officer, Liberty County sheriff, and cattleman), wrote that he made frequent visits to the hotel, sometimes leaving his post at Grigsby’s Bluff to dine and enjoy what he called “some tolerable good music.”

On November 2, 1859, tragedy struck. Arthur Magill, by then the chief engineer on the T. J. Smith, a Neches River mail packet, was killed when its boiler exploded. This left Kate alone to care for their two young daughters. Kate would later sue Captain H. C. Smith, the owner of the T. J. Smith, for her deceased husband’s wages. This would be one of many legal confrontations between the two.

H. C. Smith wasn’t the only thorn in Kate’s side. One day, a woman nicknamed Dutch Margaret entered the Catfish Hotel while Kate was serving meals. Dutch Margaret proceeded to vilify and yell obscenities at Kate in front of all the diners. Kate immediately retaliated with her own set of obscenities before resuming her duties. Unbeknownst to Kate, three of her friends met Dutch Margaret on the street and caned her with a parasol (an umbrella).

Dutch Margaret filed a lawsuit on the grounds that she had suffered a miscarriage from the caning. The plaintiff’s attorney, H. C. Pedigo, questioned the legality of a juror named Will J. Collins and the claim that he lived in Jefferson County. This resulted in the first survey of the West Jefferson County line. The case was postponed until Mr. Collins’s legitimacy as a county resident was verified, and it was eventually thrown out. Three months later, Dutch Margaret gave birth to a son.

In 1860, Kate married a widowed friend of her deceased husband. His name was Captain John Dorman, and he was the master of the Neches River cotton steamer Doctor Massie.

In July 1862, the yellow fever epidemic hit Sabine after a vessel ran the blockade put in place by the Federals. At least one thousand people fled the area afraid of what was known as yellow jack. The fever killed a hundred people in Sabine and Beaumont, forty of whom were Confederate soldiers.

With the tenants of the Catfish Hotel fleeing and nearly everyone else in Sabine escaping due to the dreaded disease, Kate stood strong. With no regard for her health, she, along with her two friends Sarah Vosburg and Sarah Ann King, turned the hotel into a makeshift hospital to care for the sick and the dying.

In October of that same year, fifty Federal troops came ashore in Sabine with a howitzer. They were on their way to burn the Confederate cavalry barracks. While marching through Sabine, they confiscated Captain Dorman’s horse and cart in order to mount the howitzer on it.

Witnessing this, Kate’s Irish temper boiled. Without thinking about the consequences, she began shaking her fist in the air and scolding the Federal invaders, telling them she hoped the Confederate boys would kill every last one of them. She added that if she had twenty-five men, she could take out the Federals and their cannon herself.

After the Federals burned down the Confederate barracks and stable, they marched through Sabine again. They returned Captain Dorman’s horse and cart with a word of warning—if he did not keep his “damn wife’s mouth shut,” they would hang him. Also, if she did not apologize to them, they would burn down the hotel. Kate replied that she would see them in hell first and that they could set fire to the building if they wanted to.

A week later, the Federals sent another patrol ashore. They burned a quarter of the town, including a sawmill and some residences, but they left the Catfish Hotel untouched.

All the stories above—some local, some international—show women’s will and determination to succeed.

Thoughts and Ramblings: Women’s History Month; the Struggle for Women’s Suffrage; Emmons B. Scott-Grogan; Ida Luvonia Graham; Ms. Mary Sandell; Catherina Jeanette Stengele; the GOAT: Babe

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March is Women’s History Month. No, I’m not going to give you a list of famous musicians, singers, Playboy bunnies, or whatever floats the boat of the Houston Chronicle concerning SETX history in 2016. I’ve done that before. Yes, I was kind of ticked off about an article that the newspaper wrote; I still am.  

Here at Rediscovering SETX, we try to bring you stories, or the history of those who were not in the limelight, so to speak. I mean, the McFaddins, the Starks, and the other fine, established museums do not need our input because they do a great job of telling the stories of the families in question (and we definitely promote them!). That is why we look for forgotten stories and the history of people who deserve to be remembered. I will add that even though they do a great job of telling the stories and the history of the house, we are sentimental about the Chambers House Museum. We love the property’s history, and let’s be honest, would your grandmother live in the Chambers House or the other one down the street that has a carriage house? Actually, my grandmother’s house didn’t even have a second story, but she lived near her church, which was something she couldn’t live without.

The struggle for women’s suffrage was a pivotal movement in the fight for gender equality and political representation in the United States. Spanning several decades, it was characterized by relentless activism, political lobbying, and grassroots organizing, all aimed at securing the right to vote for women.

The roots of the women’s suffrage movement can be traced back to the mid-19th century, with the Seneca Falls Convention of 1848 marking a significant milestone in the struggle. Organized by suffragists such as Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott, the convention demanded the right to vote for women, igniting a spark that would fuel the movement for decades to come.

Despite facing widespread opposition and discrimination, suffragists persisted in their efforts to challenge the status quo. They organized rallies, marches, and petitions, tirelessly advocating for their cause. However, progress was slow, and the road to suffrage was fraught with setbacks and obstacles.

One of the most significant difficulties was the deeply entrenched societal norms and beliefs about women’s roles. Many opponents of the movement argued that women were incapable of participating in politics or that it was against their nature to do so. Others feared that granting women the vote would disrupt the traditional family structure or lead to social disorder.

However, the suffragists remained undeterred, continuing to push for change with various means. They lobbied politicians, delivered speeches, and engaged in acts of civil disobedience. Their dedication and perseverance eventually began to produce results.

The tide began to turn in the early 20th century, with several states granting women the right to vote in local and state elections. This momentum culminated in the passage of the 19th Amendment to the US Constitution in 1920, which finally gave women the vote across the nation.

The struggle for women’s suffrage in the United States was a long and arduous journey, marked by resilience, courage, and determination. It paved the way for future generations of women to participate fully in the democratic process and helped advance the cause of gender equality in the country. Though the fight for equality continues, the achievements of the suffragists serve as a reminder of the power of collective action and the importance of never giving up in the face of adversity.

Teachers are role models and on the front lines when it comes to making a difference. We all had that one teacher who was tough on us, but they wanted us to better ourselves. Mrs. Emmons B. Scott-Grogan was certainly that one teacher who made an effort for her students. Respected by all in the education community, she was the first female and first African American principal in Beaumont. She taught and became principal at Charlton-Pollard High School in the 1920s. Her story is still being uncovered by Lynn and Caroline Simon, who are great sources of Beaumont history. I will update you about their journey to find out more concerning Mrs. Grogan.

Ida Luvonia Graham spent her life helping people in the African American community along with her husband, Charles Frank Luckett Nordman Graham. Whether it was helping people in need through the Christmas Tree Project (1920), organizing the first Black YMCA (1930), helping with the plans for a YWCA (1931), or improving race relations in Beaumont, Ida played a significant role.

Ms. Mary Sandell was elected the first female school superintendent in Jefferson County in 1918. She served in this position for 10 years. She was also a rural teacher and principal in Hamshire. At the time, there was a clear shift in the norms regarding women holding this type of office. The winds of change were coming.

Catherina Jeanette Stengele moved to Beaumont from Holland in the 1880s to start her millinery business. She was an entrepreneur who was also involved in the finance business. Known throughout the region, she made her fortune as a milliner, financier, and landowner. She even owned a three-story brick building on Pearl Street in 1899. Although she couldn’t vote as an immigrant and a woman, she was well respected in the business community of her day.

In my open letter to the Houston Chronicle article mentioned above, I also cited Babe. There is no disputing her inclusion on this list. Babe was in a class of her own, whether in terms of sports, self-determination, or the ability to succeed. Her accomplishments are many and should be honored. By the way, I’ll just say that she was born in Port Arthur—not Beaumont—because some of you get irritated when I mention this. I will also state that she is big enough for everyone to claim her as their own. She is the GOAT, and her greatness is well deserved throughout the world.

There are many other women whom I could mention, and I will, but so can you. There are many important stories to tell—whether they pertain to your grandma, teacher, or neighbor. These are stories about who you are.

Until next week.

Seneca Falls Convention 1948:

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

19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution: Women’s Right to Vote (1920):

https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/19th-amendment#:~:text=Passed%20by%20Congress%20June%204,decades%20of%20agitation%20and%20protest.

Babe Didrikson Zaharias:

https://www.museumofthegulfcoast.org/babe-zaharias

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

Thoughts and Ramblings: Hugo and James DeBretagne; Giving Bigfoot the Boot; Hacking into Radio; Sundays Were for Cajun Bandstand; Rest In Peace Stan Bowles #WeRQPR

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Last weekend, I went down a few rabbit holes linked to a couple of newspaper archives and Fold3, which is a military database offered by the website Ancestry. This is where I initially discovered the war diaries of the Marine Scout Bombing Squadron 931 (VSMB-931) dive-bomber squadron that trained in Jefferson County. My goal was to find a bit more information on Hugo DeBretagne, a Port Arthur marine who died in Tarawa in 1943. Since this week is the anniversary of Operation Detachment (the invasion of Iwo Jima), I wanted to search through what war diaries were available, if any. What I ended up finding were the diaries of the Second Marines concerning their part in Operation Galvanic (the siege of Betio Island in Tarawa), as well as a few more questions and scenarios.

In the pages of the Beaumont Journal and the Port Arthur News, I did find a few mentions of Hugo DeBretagne’s death and the fate of his brother, James, later in the war in Iwo Jima. I believe James was also in Tarawa, but I don’t know what unit he served in. The information regarding Hugo was inscribed on his memorial stone at Greenlawn Cemetery in Groves, Texas, so I could follow a bit of a paper trail for him, but not in James’s case. One thing I did find out in the newspaper archives was that James was wounded in Iwo Jima, but without knowing who he served with, I can’t find any answers.

Luckily, James DeBretagne survived the war. He spent time recovering in a Corpus Christi hospital from the wounds he suffered in Iwo Jima, for which he received the Purple Heart. That’s where the military history ends. I won’t get into other aspects of the family, but I will say that he lived a long life, and he passed in 1993 in Hardin County.

Before reading through the war diaries of the Second Marines, I had assumed that Hugo DeBretagne died on D-day 3—the third and last day of fighting on Betio. However, since there was little resistance that day, and given that he was buried at sea, I am beginning to think that he was wounded in the initial battle or on D-day 2. I doubt this question will ever be answered, but if I manage to do so, I will let you know. That’s the problem with research—when you think you have the right scenario, something changes it. But if the result is correcting our historical knowledge, that’s okay.

The last thing I will say about these brothers is that they were also on Guadalcanal, which would make a whole other major story. SETX gave a lot for the war, and it doesn’t matter what county you reside in; there are heroes in every hallowed ground of our area.

I’ve finally cut the cord, so to speak. Seven years ago, I was so fed up with the cable provider Spectrum that I switched to Dish (Latino). Oh, those World Cup memories! You could watch TV after a hurricane as long as you had a generator bringing the power to the TV and all the hookups. Now, the only thing you can watch on Dish that you can’t get anywhere else is the Dishscapes. Although nice, I will not pay $173 a month to see Bigfoot either boating or mowing the grass in his dapper Smokey Bear hat.

I remember that, back in the day, we had four channels: KJAC, KFDM, KBMT, and the Public Broadcasting Network (PBS) out of Houston (sponsored by the Getty Oil Company or the DuPont Foundation, of course). PBS had a big influence on me because of—yes—Sesame Street and The Electric Company. Later, in the ’80s, Soccer Made in Germany would put me on the weirdly inevitable path of becoming an English-football supporter and, even worse, a fan of Queens Park Rangers (QPR). The main reason was PBS’s coverage of the 1982 World Cup and the dreaded Football Association Cup final between QPR and Tottenham Hotspur. Probably the worst mistake I’ve made in my life, but “We R QPR,” and the pain continues.

 R.I.P. Stan Bowles (24 December 1948 – 24 February 2024)

Around that time, we also discovered that we could cross wires and antennae to actually broadcast over the air—so to speak. A walky-talky may have been used, and the Federal Communications Commission had no idea we did this, but in 1982, we started our own radio station. Truth be told, we could only broadcast over a couple of blocks in our neighborhood, but you could listen to it on any radio in that area. Ninety-nine point something was the frequency. Regarding content, Rush, AC/DC, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Ozzy Osbourne were played to no one. My cohost was worried that his mother may be listening because his house was a block away, but he was the one doing the things we shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, so there you go. It was fun, and I did see Ozzy Osbourne in Beaumont and lived to tell about it. I saw him a couple of times, but the one with Randy Rhoades at Fair Park was the best!

When we weren’t hacking into the airwaves, our radios would be tuned in to 104½ FM or 101 KLOL. I think I still have some cassette tapes of Linda Silk’s show on Saturday nights. Of course, Sunday mornings were strictly for KLVI 560’s show Cajun Bandstand, hosted by Johnny Janot. After Johnny passed, A. J. Judice stepped in front of the microphone for a couple of years. I miss Johnny. I know his dog gave him a hard time, but when you name your dog Sex, things usually don’t go smoothly in everyday life. (Story below!)

You know, everyone that has a dog either calls him Rover, or Boy, or Fido, or something.

Well, I call mine Sex. Sex is a very embarrassing name.

One day, I took Sex for a walk, and he ran away from me. I spent hours looking for that dog, and a cop came along and asked me what I was doing in this alley at four o’clock in the morning. I said I was looking for Sex. My case comes up next Thursday.

One day I went to city hall for a dog license for Sex, and the clerk asked me what I wanted, and I told him I wanted a license for Sex. And he said, “I’d like to have one too! “

But I said this is a dog, and he said, “ I don’t care how she looks.”

 Then I said you don’t understand. I’ve had Sex since I was two years old.

And he said, “Boy, you must have been a strong boy.”

Well, I decided to get married and told the minister I wanted to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding. I told him but Sex has played a big part in my life, and my whole lifestyle revolves around Sex. He said he didn’t want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church. I told him that everyone coming to the wedding would enjoy having Sex there. The next day, we were married by the Justice of the Peace, and my family are all barred from the church.

My wife and I took the dog along with us on our honeymoon, and when I checked into the motel I told the clerk I wanted a room for my wife and I, and a special room for Sex. The clerk said every room in the motel is for sex. Then I said, you don’t understand, Sex keeps me awake at night, and the clerk said, “Me too!”

One day I told my friend I had Sex on TV, and he said, “You show off.” I told him it was a contest. He said, “You should’ve sold tickets.”

Well, my wife and I separated and went to court to fight for custody of the dog, and I said your Honor, I’ve had Sex before I was married, and the judge said, “Me too!”

Now I’ve been thrown in jail, I’ve been married, I’ve been divorced, and had more damn trouble with that dog than I ever gambled for.

Why, just the other day, when I went for my first session with my psychiatrist, and she asked me what the problem was, I said, hell, Sex has died and left my life. It’s like losing a best friend, and it’s so lonely.

The doctor said, “Look, mister, you and I both know that sex isn’t man’s best friend.”

Go get yourself a dog!

 Johnny Janot

Until next week, We still R #QPR

Johnny Janot:

Stan Bowles:  https://www.bbc.com/sport/football/68394453

Thoughts and Ramblings: D. A. R. Talk; Ezerbet Says Hi; Three Millionaires Want to Build Mansions in a Swamp; Vuylsteke House

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Many thanks to the Captain William Sanders chapter of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution (NSDAR). I was again honored to be a speaker at their February meeting this week. More people showed up this year, but they weren’t there to listen to my ramblings. This chapter reaches out to the local high schools and asks the faculty who the outstanding students are, and the faculty and counselors give their shout-outs. The students receive one hundred dollars in cash, a certificate, and information on obtaining a scholarship through the NSDAR. I think this is an outstanding idea for local organizations, and they deserve to be mentioned whenever possible.

The talk went well, but the refreshments were better. I only had one heckler this year. My two-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter Ezerbet was in the audience and greeted everyone, repeatedly (“Hi!”). Thanks to the person who sent a bag of Fritos her way. She enjoyed them, along with anything that caught her eye and her stomach after the meeting. By the way, her name isn’t Ezerbet, but when I mention her in future blogs, I will refer to her like that just to irritate one of her parents.

One of the advantages of being part of the Jefferson County Historical Commission is being around people who know a lot more than you do about a subject or how to do certain things, such as presentations. Shout-out to Dr. Steven Lewis, who is a wiz at creating PowerPoint files and Excel spreadsheets. He is the only reason I can produce some of these things. I’m pretty savvy when it comes to technology, but not this type of stuff. I think that, deep down, I just hate Mister Softy (MSFT), a.k.a. Bill Gates.

Speaking of another Mr. Gates, part of my talk was about some of the old houses in Port Arthur, especially the few ones standing on Lakeshore Drive—the Vuylsteke House, the Pompeiian Villa, and Rose Hill Manor. One that is no longer there is the John W. Gates House. It was located one house down from the Pompeiian Villa. The John Gates House burned down in the 1960s, but the carriage house is still there, as is the Texas Historical Commission (THC) marker placed in 2001.

Here is the story of the original plan by a few millionaires who wanted to build some pretty nice homes in a swamp.

The Pompeiian Villa is a replica of a Pompeiian home from AD 79; it was built by Isaac Ellwood, the “Barbed Wire King,” in 1900. It was one of three structures to be built on the eight-acre stretch of lakefront property in Port Arthur. The second home was John Warner “Bet-a-Million” Gates’ twenty-room Georgian Revival mansion, a pre–Civil War Gone with the Wind-style home with a carriage house at the back. A third home was planned by an investor, Mr. James Hopkins (president of the Diamond Match Company, St. Louis, Missouri); sadly, Mr. Hopkins could not come up with an idea for a suitable structure, so the land between the two aforementioned homes was never built upon.

After the Pompeiian Villa was completed, Mr. Ellwood lived there for a year. In 1901, he sold it to Mr. Hopkins, who loved the house dearly, so much so that he sent for his wife in St. Louis to live with him in this great abode during the winter months. Mrs. Hopkins took the train down from St. Louis, expecting to see paradise. After the train ride, she boarded a carriage and was taken to her new winter home. When she arrived, she saw the great villa in all its glory—built in muddy marshlands next to a lake. She was not impressed. Without hesitation, she returned to the train station and traveled back to St. Louis without setting foot inside the villa.

I also mentioned the Vuylsteke House, which was built in 1905 by J. E. Alexander in the space of seventy-five days for Adrianus Jacobus Maria Vuylsteke. Mr. Vuylsteke immigrated to the US in 1893 and moved to Texas in 1894. After his marriage to Nettie Minerva White in 1898, they settled in Jefferson County. Mr. Vuylsteke was appointed to the Dutch consulate for Port Arthur in 1906.

In 1908, the Vuylsteke family sold the house to John Tryon, a manager at the Gulf refinery who would eventually become Port Arthur’s mayor between 1917 and 1921. After having multiple owners, the house was moved to its current location on Lakeshore Drive, renovated, and used as a rental property. Finally, after years of deterioration, it was bought by the Port Arthur College Foundation and restored in 1986.

I also showed a couple of pictures taken by Port Arthur News photographer Don Larson, which I purchased at an estate sale. To me, they are iconic because of who is in them. The first one is from the Babe Zaharias THC marker dedication in 1979. (Yes, Beaumont, the Babe was born in Port Arthur!) It shows Sydalise Fredeman holding her hat while Bum Phillips takes the cover off the marker and Bob Hope looks on. The second photo shows Bob Hope looking on again (I think he did that a lot) while a lady with a shovel breaks ground for the new Bob Hope School. And yes, that is Wayne Newton in the background! If anyone knows who the lady with the shovel is, please let me know.

Well, I’ll end this blog the same way I ended my PowerPoint—with a photo of my fat cats and a link to my website. By the way, Ezerbet says, “Hi!”

Danke schoen. Until next week!

Thoughts and Ramblings: A Sunday Drive through Port Arthur; What’s in Your DNA; the Only Time I’ve Ever Been Sorry for a Politician; Maggie’s Drawers; Galveston Historic Homes Tour; Rabbit Holes

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Two weekends ago, I took a drive through Port Arthur with a friend who hadn’t been here in many years. Many landmarks are gone, especially the hospitals. Park Place has been gone for years, and St. Mary’s has recently become a grassy field, but at least they left the flagpole. One thing that is left in this area, between Pioneer Park and the water tower, is a concrete circle that I assume was built to walk on. I don’t know why this circular cement path was constructed, but I remember the nuns from St. Mary’s walking on it. My friend Millie told me that there used to be a building in the center of it; I cannot confirm this.

During the drive, we argued playfully about where the restaurants used to be and whether the spirits burned down the nice house on Sixteenth Street (Gulfway Drive) because Madam Dora lived there. On a side note, I wonder if Madam Dora (Port Arthur) and Madam Pearl (Bridge City) knew each other. I guess it’s all in the cards.

Every once in a blue moon, I read through my DNA report, which seems to change yearly. What’s up with that Ancestry website? Am I not still 24 percent Spaniard? The whole world is 24 percent Spaniard, by the way. The dirty little—I digress. In my family history, years ago, someone wrote that my great-great-grandfather Etienne was from an island that doesn’t exist—Lil Decout in Italy. He was from Corsica, a French island that thinks it’s Italian, and that’s ok with me. His mother was Latvian, which may explain my obsession with the weather. Latvia, I believe, is the home of the European hurricane forecast-model group. I will add that Etienne came to this country in 1868, after you guys got your crap together! (This statement never goes down well when I talk to some groups, but the usual reply is “We still haven’t.”)

I’ve looked into family history, and it is about as messed up as my database, so that fits. I have a family member who is in the census 20 years after he passed. Of course, I’m going to mention some sort of vampire link, or even better, an “I’m from a long line of serial killers; I have no proof because they were good serial killers.” This is why I usually go down the rabbit holes of other families and research everyone else on Ancestry! Maybe this is why my account is so screwed up.

According to Ancestry, I’m related to everyone! I say this in jest, but two of my friends are really related to everyone, at least in Magnolia Cemetery. One, one half of the cemetery; the other, the other half. However, I don’t think they are related to each other. It’s true, but it is a pain being from older families in this area. I guess that’s the difference between knowing something about your history and having it laid out in front of you for everyone to see.

I remember that one of my uncles basically harassed Jack Brooks—a politician—because he was mad at the Veterans Administration (VA). I will ask the veterans reading this, “Who isn’t mad at the VA?” Yep, he went to Mr. Brooks’s office in Washington. Jack didn’t see him, though. I’m glad that my family wasn’t remarkable; this was the only time I felt sorry for a politician. I do have something that my uncle wrote about this event. I may put it out at some point.

My uncle also spoke of his time on the firing range. He frequently spoke of “Maggie’s drawers.” I guess this was because he kept missing his target. That’s all right, though, because he ended up on permanent KP duty. This is the reason he introduced us to SOS. His recipe was ground meat in cream gravy. During the Great War, this was called Save Our Souls or Same Old Slop; in the ’40s, though, they just called it what it was—S**t on a Shingle. I was told that the only people who knew about this delicacy were those in the military or in prison. Regardless of whether this is, I still think it is comfort food, and at my age, I’m thankful that I’m in neither of those sectors.

Well, the emails have started rolling in. Galveston’s 50th Annual Historic Homes Tour is currently looking for volunteers, and I’m already lined up with Bev, “the candy lady,” for Sunday on the first weekend. The house list hasn’t been released yet, but there is a rumor that something special is scheduled for this year. Stay tuned! If you are interested in volunteering for this event or want to learn about all things Galveston, you can click on this link: https://www.galvestonhistory.org/support/volunteer-opportunities.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been going down many rabbit holes. I want to put out most of this research in March, for Women’s History Month, but darn, if we hadn’t had to endure a Port Arthur/Hee Haw moment in a county school-superintendent election in 1930. I’ll add the newspaper clipping to the blog. The journey was a somewhat positive ride until politics showed its ugly head. Sorry Jack—at least you wore a cowboy hat!

Until next week. RIP Toby Keith. You know that your friend Wayman (Tisdale) has the stage set, and Barry (White) is in the audience. Time to sing it again. Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up. By the way, we’re not crying for you, we’re crying for us who liked your songs. See you on the other side, Superstar!

Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up:

Toby Keith – Cryin’ For Me (Wayman’s Song) ft. Arthur Thompson, Marcus Miller, Dave Koz

Maggies Drawers:

https://bulletin.accurateshooter.com/2017/06/maggies-drawers-at-camp-perry/#:~:text=Origin%20of%20’Maggie’s%20Drawers’%20Term&text=This%20term%20%E2%80%9Crefers%20to%20the,on%20long%2Drange%20rifle%20targets.

S.O.S Recipe:

S.O.S.

Thoughts and Ramblings: The Five People Who Have Positively Influenced Me During My Life.

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This week, I listened to a few oral histories I collected back in the day. I’m not a good interviewer, but these oral histories did bring out many insights into how people thought and acted in the 1930s and ’40s. The five people I interviewed have since passed, and I will say that they all positively influenced me during my life. The first two, for sure.

I mentioned Roy Temple and his impact on my life a few weeks ago. Roy was a product of the Depression and lived his life accordingly. He also lived the way he wanted—doing what he wanted to do and not bothering about anyone else. Roy may have come across as mean and ornery at times, but under that gruff demeanor, he had a heart of gold. Roy would help anyone who showed up on his doorstep, and there were many who showed up.

Roy was a carpenter by trade and a farmer by habit. He grew up in the 1920s and worked on his parents’ farm from a young age. He spent countless hours tending the fields and learning the art of agriculture (there is an art to it, as he explained to me one day). He also attended school, learning the basics—even some Latin. Later in life, he dropped out of school for a short time, but a teacher convinced him to go back, thus changing his life. Roy was no scholar, but he learned early in life that hard work and an education (in any field) could only help you succeed. And he did succeed—he worked in many fields during the more than 90 years he lived.

One thing I remember from our numerous talks was his involvement in the New Orleans shipyard during WWII. Roy helped build many a ship to the specifications of the naval fleet. “Everything had to be perfect, or they would make you do it again and again,” I remember him saying. I also remember him telling me of ships that had headed out to the Mississippi delta and to sea only to end up at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico courtesy of a German U-boat torpedo.

I’ve left a link to Roy’s story at the bottom of this blog.

Charles Irwin was a client-turned-friend of mine for 19 years. A true Texas historian, he was born in San Antonio and moved to this area in 1957. There was nothing about Texas history that he didn’t know, and he wrote three books about it: The Creed Taylor Story, Alamo Courier Benjamin Franklin Highsmith 1836, and Peerless Texas Empresarios. He even introduced me to the Republic of Texas Navy—I had no idea. (My second-grade teacher failed to mention this detail about Texas history, but we did look at the moon through a telescope on Woodrow Avenue in Port Arthur.) Yes, Texas had a navy, but it didn’t have any money. I’m sure hilarity ensued when the New Orleans shipyard needed payment to release one of their ships.

I remember our 2012 trip to the Chambers County Historical Commission in Anahuac, when we toured the T. J. Chambers House. In my files, I have many historic entries that Charles fed me. Sometimes I have to recheck who these people are and if they pertain to Texas history or SETX history.

We had other similar interests, including World War II aviation. Charles grew up in San Antonio, and he saw many planes from the war fly daily. He even attended the 50th D-day anniversary in Normandy, France. We were also both interested in English history. I will add that I believe this doesn’t connect to my Welshiness because Welsh history is different. Just ask a Welsh person—they’ll answer in Welsh and not care if you don’t understand. Because they’re Welsh!

Archie Wallace was a client of mine, but we would end up reminiscing about Port Arthur, the interurban, those rich people in Griffing Park, our mutual friend Roy Temple, and Port Arthur Mayor Bernis Sadler’s annexing quests. When asked how the city would pick up the offshore rig’s garbage, Bernis said, “Just leave it on the curb; we’ll pick it up.”

Archie was one of the few people I asked about their life during World War II. He was a child then, and the main thing he remembered was the sugar rationing; also, he had no idea where Pearl Harbor was. I’m sure those rich folks in Griffing Park had encyclopedias, but I digress. In his younger years, Archie worked on the streets in Griffing Park, so he knew the answer to my question of another road leading into Griffing Park. Back in 2015, I found a photo in the Beaumont Enterprise, taken where it is now, at the intersection between Thirty-Second Street and Twin City Highway. It was a then-and-now photo. The first one was taken in 1929, while the second was from 1959. It was nothing special, but it did show that looking south in 1929, you saw nothing, and the road curved to the right instead of making a 90-degree turn like it does today. In 1959, you could see the newly constructed auditorium and gymnasium in the background. There were no trees, and the road still curved to the right. If you stand at the traffic lights on Thirty-Second today, you don’t see the school, but if you glance to your right, you notice a street leading into Griffing Park that was blocked off by a barrier long ago. Since Thirty-Second Street runs west to east, and Twin City Highway runs north to south, you really couldn’t have a fifth road there. Hell, most drivers in Port Arthur can’t figure out a four-way stop.

Millie Rougeau was another person from my past who gave me the real deal when it came to stories of growing up in the ’40s during World War II. She even gave me her uncle’s ration book. I will leave a link about her at the bottom of this blog.

Another link I will add is for the interview I did with my uncle Roy to find out what life was like in Beauxart Gardens. I love these interviews for the history they contain, but the best thing in the cases of Charles Irwin, Millie Rougeau, and my uncle Roy is that I can still hear their voices. I have other interviews that I cherish, and I hope to bring them here fully in the future.

Until next week, reach out to a family member or friend to talk, and you may rediscover some good stories and history that you had forgotten. Do it!

Remembering Roy:

Remembering Roy

Life in Jefferson County During World War II:

Life in Jefferson County during World War II

Living in Beauxart Gardens in the 1930s:

Living in Beauxart Gardens in the 1930’s

Rediscovering Anahuac / Wallisville:

Rediscovering Anahuac / Wallisville