Tag Archives: #SETX

Thoughts and Ramblings: Thanks, Susie; An Old Building off Highway 90; T. J. Chambers’s House; The Intracoastal Waterway; Photographing the Moon and Being Spotlighted by the Coasties

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My shout-out to Susie for stepping in last week. Her Weekly Letter reigned from 1926 to 1938, and I intend to have her take my place every three months to explain what was going on during the times of her writings because her take on what was happening more than 100 years ago will make you think. It will also show you how nothing changes. The fact that my disappearance from the blog last week coincided with the UEFA Nations League Finals is just a coincidence because England or Wales weren’t playing. But I will give kudos to Croatia for hanging tough in the final with Spain, though they eventually lost, as well as for losing to everyone else except when they play England. Again, I digress.

Susie mentioned that they had broken ground on her new home on McFaddin Avenue. The house was constructed using some of the bricks from the old 1893 Jefferson County Courthouse, which was demolished around the same time to pave the way for the current 13-story structure that was finished in 1931. The fireplace bricks were from her grandfather’s Woodlawn Plantation, which he acquired in 1861 and his heirs sold in 1885. This land originally belonged to John McCroskey—actually, it belonged to Stephen F. Austin (SFA), but we may get into that at a later date because due to a marriage of a descendant to a nephew of the Bryan family, which is related to SFA, Florence is technically related to the latter (trust me, it’s an “I’m My Own Grandpa” scenario). Anyway, McCroskey’s log cabin, built in 1824, still stands today. It is the second oldest log cabin in Texas, and Susie talked about this regularly in her weekly letters. She even visited it occasionally because most of her family still resided in Brazoria County.

I need to get back to Brazoria County to do more research on the Stratton family. The help that the Brazoria County Historical Commission has given me has been fantastic.

Two weeks ago, we solved the mystery of where the Florence switch was located. Another mystery that has haunted a few of us is a building located on Highway 90 between Devers and Nome. If you’re driving west from Beaumont, it is just past the rice dryers along the highway. When you see them, look to the left for a building covered in vines. Historian Bill Quick once said that this was where they made munitions during World War I, but he has now passed, and I have found no one else who knows this story. At the time, this piece of information was not known because of the war, but the structure itself stands out, and I want to know more about it. I’ve asked a few people from Liberty County, but they knew nothing about it. Sometimes in these cases, time needs to simmer before we get an answer. So, I will keep watch.

One thing that requires no simmering is the Chambers House. It’s widely known that my favorite museum is the Chambers House Museum in Beaumont. However, back in 2012, I discovered another Chambers House by accident. I was working in Anahuac when I took a wrong turn and came upon T. J. Chambers’s house. The window enchanted me because it was different from other structures. I’ll leave a link to this house’s history and another one about T. J. Chambers’s story and fate.

This week, I was driving down Woodworth Boulevard in Port Arthur when I saw a scene that I’d witnessed many times before but had forgotten about. As I drove closer to Lakeshore Drive, I could see the little flags from a barge passing just over the levee. This is a regular sight if you live near the Intracoastal Waterway, but when you see a tanker passing by, it’s still awesome. Heck, in 2006, I even saw an aircraft carrier there, the Oriskany. A past director of the Museum of the Gulf Coast once told me the sight is one of the many perks of that job, and I believed him!

I wouldn’t say that this extraordinary maritime beauty is limited to the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway. That little ditch that Arthur Stilwell expanded from the pass when the people in Sabine Pass did some real estate-related price gouging is also lovely. Having worked in this area for many years, my favorite memory is that of a shrimp boat exiting a fog bank, but that was before I had a phone with a camera. I may or may not have been working on the land that the Coasties inhabit, but the scenery was beautiful, especially when looking at the Sabine lighthouse.

When I began my photography journey, I spent many hours practicing taking different types of photos. Shout-out to a few folks at the Beaumont Camera Club for teaching me the art of fireworks photography, but photographing the moon was different. I spent two years taking pictures of the full moon, whatever the weather. It is a good thing that I learned how to photograph fireworks because taking pictures of lunar eclipses is somewhat similar, and boy did we have a few of those between 2014 and 2019 (photo links at the bottom of the page).

These were interesting adventures, and a few were more memorable than others. At the time, I wanted to photograph the moon over the Cheniere LNG Terminal. I planned to park at the Keith Lake Cut Bridge, set up my tripod, and take a few photos before the mosquitoes sucked all the blood out of me. Before I could jump out of my truck and hurriedly set up the tripod, I was spotlighted by a Coast Guard boat. Unbeknownst to me, a car carrier ship had passed through at the same time that I drove up. In this area, car carriers mean military. I guess I was lucky not to arrive a few seconds earlier, or I might have had to explain why I was setting up a tripod in complete darkness while a car carrier was passing. Glad they weren’t trigger happy! I did get the photo though.

Until next week, Semper Paratus!

McCroskey-Stringfellow House:

https://www.hmdb.org/m.asp?m=173103

General Thomas Jefferson Chambers’ House:

http://www.anahuactexasindependence.com/house.htm

Rediscovering Anahuac / Wallisville:

Rediscovering Anahuac / Wallisville

USS Oriskany:

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

Museum of the Gulf Coast:

https://www.museumofthegulfcoast.org/

Mark Wiess, Not Brownies, Told Stilwell Where to Build (August 2014): https://www.sfasu.edu/heritagecenter/9328.asp

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

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

Semper Paratus:

Thoughts and Ramblings: Susie Spindletop Edition

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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 1929.

                              Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter Snipetts 1929

Dear Della:

   Rumor is telling it around that some doctors are going to build a clinic right alongside of Stratton’s flat in Magazine street. Della, if this is true I DO hope they won’t throw all amputated legs, arms, tonsils, adenoids and appendixes out of the back window into the front yard of the flat. You know I’m in debt for that flat. However, that mortgage I have plastered all over the place may keep this human debris out. Guess I had better ask Miss Pearl Brock—she is the yes-and-no man for the building company.

   So with a clinic next door, it looks like I will inherit the burden lifted from Mrs. Sol Elisha’s shoulders when the baseball park was moved. Mrs. Elisha had a tub full of baseballs which had fallen into her yard after inflicting damage to the roof of her home. Well, Della, I’ll promise you not to carry the burden that far. I’m not going to save things in my yard until I get a tubful.

                                                          May 19, 1929

                 *                                                      *                                           *

DELLA, the passing of the old homes of Beaumont brings many heartaches. But there are heart throbs along with the aches, for as in the case of the old Keith home on Willow street, recently sold, it awakened sweet memories… carries the mind and heart back to yesteryear.

   Mrs. Bucklin once kept a boarding house in the Keith home and I recall the days when Seawillow and Will Keith, Marjorie and “brother” boarded with Mrs. Bucklin. It was from there that Marjorie Bucklin Solinsky finished school.

   Eleanor Ives (now Eleanor Wiggins) was born in one of the big old rooms.

   No one thought then that the place where hospitality reigned supreme, where infants with their cooing songs were romping on the floor, where youth was spending its evenings in innocent merrymaking would one day give way to the pounding of the machinist’s hammer as he worked over automobiles, something almost unknown at that time.

                                                           July 7, 1929

   *                                                     *                                               *

DELLA, my boy friend, I mean one of them, left the Shawnee high and dry on the flood waters of the Neches river when he heard that about the only spirits he would find on the West Indies cruise would be those that might slip out of Davy Jones’ locker for a peep at what was going on on the surface. But there were a lot of fine fellows aboard who only thought of flowers, good wishes from their friends and the pleasures of a cruise among tropical islands.

  That reminds me that the dearest folks on earth are the thoughtful ones, the ones who think about the happiness of people who might otherwise be overlooked—maybe jump overboard in despair. Acting upon this impulse Sadie Wiess sent Jim Edwards a bouquet to take to his state room. Said she knew nobody else would send one.

SINCE the flood I am strong for short skirts and natural stockings. Really natural shoes would come in handy.

   Truth is, the Neches river and all of its little rivers up the country have been cutting up like a seashore party. Motor boats and airplanes have been about the only means of transportation in some sections but Beaumont is high and dry with the exception of a little water around the hem on a skirt.

  The Enterprise delivered papers by airplane and I expect you got my last letter that way. Carried yeast up the country too, saying that the people wanted to make some bread.

                                                June 9, 1929

*                                                    *                                                     *

SOMEHOW, my dear, we can’t get ahead. For geographic prominence we started out with Spindle Top which seemed to carry an impression that we had a mountain that looked like a spindle top until somebody discovered that there was a Spindle Top gulley because some boy lost his top there.

  Then Captain Plummer caught a whale down on the beach and somebody came along and wrote “Down to the Sea in Ships,” showing more whales somewhere else than the average person has advice when you have a bad cold. Then we produced our Big Hill which at least sounded big, but it hardly got on the map before Sour Lake came along and produced a crater.

  Just why they didn’t ask my advice about it I don’t know, but it promises to be constantly widening until it gets up where I can afford to give it a little attention.

                                              October 20, 1929

   *                                               *                                                      *

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

Here lyeth the body of WILLIAM STRATTON

buried May 18, 1734

Age 97

Who had by his first wife 28 children

By his second, 17

Own father to 45,

Grandfather to 86,

Great-grandfather to 97,

great great- grandfather to 23…in all 251

A gravestone in Yorkshire, England

                               June 16, 1929

*                                         *                                             *

LAST Sunday the printer made an error in the last paragraph of my letter. I was worried until a member of my family pulled this: “Why worry? Nobody ever reads to the last paragraph of your letter anyhow.”

  Yours for more and longer miles between relatives, SUSIE

                                     October 13, 1929

                       *                                      *                                              *

Must leave you now. The ground is broke for my new home and so am I

                                             September 29, 1929

                                  Florence Stratton, aka Susie Spindletop

Born in Brazoria County in 1881, Florence moved to Beaumont in 1903. She was a newspaper reporter for both the Beaumont Journal and the Beaumont Enterprise. She is credited with starting both the Milk and Ice Fund (1915) and the Empty Stocking Fund (1920), charities of the Beaumont Journal. Florence authored The Story of Beaumont, published in 1923, which was the most successful of her five books. In 1929 Florence built her home at 1929 McFaddin Avenue, using plans from a New England cottage and brick from the 1892 Jefferson County courthouse. She also wrote a weekly column for the Beaumont Enterprise under the pen name Susie Spindletop from 1926 until her death in January of 1938.

A Brief History of Florence Stratton Part 1:    

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2017/03/21/a-brief-history-of-florence-stratton-part1/

A Brief History of Florence Stratton Part 2:

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2017/03/28/a-brief-history-of-florence-stratton-part2/

Thoughts and Ramblings: ChatGPT Lies; Susie Spindletop Wasn’t Anthony Lucas’s Wife; Hooks Cemetery; the Mayumi Child

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After receiving many “I’m sorry” and “I apologize” from the ChatGPT bot/Terminator wannabe in reply to my questions, I think this technology is probably only ready to replace politicians. It is vague and just gives out nonsense. To be fair, I asked it to do a bio of myself and a few friends or to provide information about some Southeast Texans. I get it, most of us are not famous, and the internet is where it gets its content, but I did put in a few names of authors and academics that it should have recognized but didn’t. It kept apologizing and telling me it hadn’t been updated since September 2021. Even our technology has been neutered. So, the moral of this story is that I do not need to quit my day job and that AI chatbots lie! No, ChatGPT, Susie Spindletop wasn’t the wife of Anthony Lucas! I’m beginning to hate technology more and more. To all those in college: some professors would love to bring back oral tests because of this new technology. I can only imagine the terror that writing in cursive would bring to their students.

Last week, I forgot to mention that I visited Hooks Cemetery on my journey to Hardin County. I wanted to pay my respects to Bessie and Bruce Reid. Bessie coauthored When the Storm God Rides, a textbook on Native American tribes, with Florence Stratton. She also wrote Legend of Kisselpoo, which was published in the Port Arthur News in July 1923. It was a historical fiction article based on her research on Texas’s Indian tribes and their lore. Bessie was also an avid birder and naturalist.

I’ve written about the Kishi family of Orange County and their role in SETX history. They were not the only ones to farm in this area. Yoshio Mayumi, a prominent banker and landowner in Japan, purchased 1,700 acres near Taylor’s Bayou, where he began to grow rice and raise cattle. Like Kichimatsu from Orange County, Yoshio was not initially trusted by the locals. Still, in time, they got to know him and respect him.

Yoshio Mayumi

Yoshio eventually brought over his brother Yasuo to help manage the farm. In 1915, their father died, and Yoshio returned to Japan. Yasuo took over the farm and did well for a while, but mismanagement, dwindling crops, and a rice market crash after World War I made its future bleak. Finally, in 1924, Yasuo sold the farm to the Burrells and left for Japan. Unlike the Kishis, none of the Mayumi clan stayed behind—none of the living, that is.

If you walk among the rows of section X at Magnolia Cemetery in Beaumont, you may come upon a small cement slab with a headstone that reads Mayumi. In December 1917, Toshiko, Yasuo’s wife, bore her and Yasuo’s first child; unfortunately, the baby was born premature and lived only for one day. In a Beaumont Enterprise article, Gwendolyn Wingate wrote the following:

Yasuo Mayumi

“One evening in early December Mayumi rode horseback up to the Bailey Wingate home. For days it had been raining a cold drizzle, and the roads were under water.  Apologizing for what he said was an intrusion, Mayumi explained that his first child, a son, had been born, but after only one day of life, the baby was dead.  Mayumi needed help.

Wingate’s sturdy widowed mother, Artemise, who had borne nine children and had seen three buried, bundled up against the cold and rode back to the Mayumi place with the men. She found Mayumi’s wife with the dead child in her arms rocking back and forth in mute grief. She tried to comfort the woman who spoke no English and helped prepare the baby for burial.”

The Mayumi child was buried at Magnolia Cemetery, and Toshiko moved back to Japan, while Yasuo stayed behind. I’ll leave a link to the full article at the bottom of this blog.

Speaking of Magnolia Cemetery, October will soon be here, which means that the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour will take place again on Museum Madness weekend. The dates are Thursday, October 19, from 4:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m., and Saturday, October 21, from 10:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. We’ll have more information soon!

Until next week!

Southeast Texas Rice Beckoned Japanese:

https://hirasaki.net/Family_Stories/Mayumi/Mayumi.htm

History of the Kishi Colony:

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

History of the Mayumi Colony:

http://hirasaki.net/Family_Stories/Mayumi/Mayumi_History.htm

Thoughts and Ramblings: The Museum of Hardin County; Evergreen Cemetery; Memorial Day

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On Wednesday, I made a pleasant visit to the Museum of Hardin County. I’d been meaning to get up there for a while, but my work schedule and the museum’s hours didn’t match, so I had to put it off. My main reason for going was to find out all I could on the train stop/depot/newly erected township called “Florence” along the Beaumont, Sour Lake, and Western Railway. The Beaumont Enterprise article that refers to this new stop was published on July 19, 1907, after the railroad’s president R. C. Duff, W. H. P. McFaddin, and B. R. Norvell drove in the last spike to finish the railroad connecting Beaumont to Houston. I hope to get into more of this in the coming weeks, but there is more sleuthing to do.

The museum is top notch and full of content about different eras of our history. Whether it’s the sawmills, early Texas history, or an abundance of family histories spanning Hardin County, it is worth a visit. And I’ve been told that they have a new schedule.

New Museum Hours

Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays from 10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. or by appointment.

409-209-5377, 409-755-7313, 409-658-4712

It’s Memorial Day weekend, and this has different meanings for different people. For me, it’s about remembering those who fought and died serving their country. For some of you, it probably means getting in your Jeep and heading to the beach only to get arrested for DWI, PI, or just for being the idiot who doesn’t realize that Maria Maria La Policia doesn’t take any crap. Oh, sorry, that was last weekend, but I digress.

Memorial Day does have multiple origins and means different things to different people. Despite the nitpicking of most of these people (who have their own agenda), I see Memorial Day as a day to honor and remember those who gave all. And with war, there have been many. Race, creed, color, and religion don’t matter to me, and they shouldn’t matter to those looking at the headstone of someone who died serving their country. Now I’ll get off my high horse and look at this weekend’s services.

Memorial Day weekend in SETX is well attended, and there are memorial services in the cemeteries of every town. Beaumont had two on Saturday. One was at Magnolia Cemetery, and the other at Evergreen Cemetery, further up Pine Street. Both began at ten in the morning; I wish I could have gone to both, but there was a scheduling snafu. I was glad to attend the Evergreen one because of the newly placed headstones for two veterans. Shout-out to Magnolia Cemetery for receiving these military headstones and having their people set them for Evergreen Cemetery because Evergreen did not have the resources to do this.

The two new headstones were for Sargent George Shaw, who died in France during the Great War (WWI), and Jerry Lloyd, who fought in the Indian wars and was a Buffalo Soldier. The replacement headstone for George Shaw was necessary because the original one stated that he was a private. However, thanks to the research done by a member of our Jefferson County Historical Commission, they were able to send a headstone with the correct information, which Sargent Shaw deserves. The situation with Jerry Lloyd’s headstone was a bit different because, as far as we know, he never received one. If there had been a regular one marking his grave, then it had disappeared. Research has shown that he was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, but we are unaware of his location.

It was great to see how many people turned out to honor the veterans who have passed. It was quite a diverse group. Some came from as far away as Houston. Some placed flags on the graves, while others placed flowers. Many Beaumonteers showed up after seeing a Friday night report on 12 News Now; they felt compelled to be present and support the event in any way they could. They left with the knowledge of these two heroes and some other stories from this hallowed ground.

That’s it for this week. I would like to leave you with a poem written by Clare Harner.

Do not stand

By my grave, and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep—

I am the thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand

By my grave, and cry—

I am not there,

I did not die.

                                    The Origins of  Memorial Day

Memorial Day is a time to reflect on peace and honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of our country. The origins of this holiday go back to the Civil War, when it was known as Decoration Day.

The official National Decoration Day is said to have begun on May 5, 1868, when General John A. Logan declared the date would be observed as a national holiday. In the South, however, many local ceremonies had already begun in 1866. For example, I found one reference to a group of women from Columbus, Mississippi, who on April 25, 1866, visited a cemetery to honor and decorate the graves of the Confederate soldiers who had died at the Battle of Shiloh. When they saw the bare graves of the Union soldiers, these women decided to place flowers also upon them.

Through the years, people used this day to tend to their family’s plots. They would clean their area since most cemeteries back then were not cared for by staff. They had picnics and spent time remembering their loved ones, which is a tradition I love.

In 1966, Lyndon B. Johnson declared Waterloo, New York, as the birthplace of Memorial Day because on May 5, 1866, people there honored “local veterans who had fought and died in the Civil War.”

No matter when it started or who started it, we all know the meaning of this day: to honor those who fought and died for our freedom. Thanks to their sacrifice, we stand here today and celebrate them on the beaches, at BBQs, and in many other places. They are our family and our heroes, and we remember them now and forever.

https://www.12newsnow.com/article/news/local/two-black-fallen-soldiers-receiving-headstone-evergreen-cemetery/502-872d65aa-a1a9-4ec4-b621-529bf8d3d6de

Thoughts and Ramblings: Historic Homes Tour Is a Wrap; Archie Wallace; Griffing Park; the Company Store; Howard’s Grocery; The Oilers Blew it; Some Guy with Nice Hair Didn’t

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Edmund and Lorena Toebelman House

The 49th Annual Galveston Historic Homes Tour has wrapped up. Unfortunately, due to the inclement weather, we had to end it at three in the afternoon instead of at six, the usual time. I know there were a few disappointed souls out there, but when the streets flood, it may not be a good idea to let wet booties or bare feet walk through a house. Overall, the tour went well, but it did have its moments. As I wrote last week, I volunteered at the Edmund and Lorena Toebelman House. The morning was nice and cool, and we had a steady stream of people. I was a porch docent by choice. We didn’t have any issues other than the fact that the group had to wait a few minutes after I spoke because of the house’s layout. We didn’t want a traffic jam from the staircase to the living room. Everyone was fine with that, and the wait was worth it, in my opinion. It’s a beautiful house, and the woodwork is amazing.

Kudos to my fellow volunteers who, unlike me, usually volunteer on Mother’s Day. I have done so a couple of times, but the outside chairperson told me this was his 20th year. Generally, on Mother’s Day, it’s hard to get people to volunteer, and that’s why I did it and probably will do it next year. A little insight into the 50th anniversary: the Galveston Historical Foundation is planning something special, so follow them for updates as we get close. As far as I am concerned, despite the tiring drive, it is worth it. If you’re interested in volunteering, I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog post.

Unfortunately, I’ve lost another friend and fellow Jefferson County history lover. 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, he worked on the streets in Griffing Park, so he knew the answer to my question. Back in 2015, I found a photo in the Beaumont Enterprise, taken where it is now, 32nd Street and Twin City Highway. It was a then-and-now photo. The first 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 angle like it does today. In 1959, you could see the newly constructed auditorium and gymnasium in the background. Again, there were no trees, and the road curved to the right. If you stand at the stoplight on 32nd 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 32nd 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.

I will state that the roads in Griffing Park are different for a reason. Another client/history lover who has since passed told me they are the way they are because this area was a nursery and you can’t turn a wagon at a 90-degree angle. Mrs. Thibadeaux was full of information, and I loved our conversations. I haven’t been to Rose Hill Manor in a while, but the dolls on the second floor were hers. She was also a friend of my neighbor Roy Temple and his wife.

Archie also mentioned trips to the company store on Saturdays. Whether it was Texaco or Gulf, most people did this. I know my grandfather did. Unlike nowadays, it seems that Saturday morning was the day back  then—now I’m in HEB five days a week. I remember my father going to Howard’s Grocery every Saturday morning. Howard Hatfield made sure there was more stuff to buy in the 1970s than in the ‘30s, and we appreciated this. JPOTS (Just Part of the Store) was much better than Howard E. Butt’s flaming bird! I remember how excited we got in the ‘70s about the National Football League stickers on the loaves of bread. Unfortunately, it was usually a Seattle Seahawks or a Kansas City Chiefs sticker that no one cared about, but we still stuck it on our school books. The Houston Oiler sticker was nonexistent as far as I know—I never saw them. I guess the NFL dropped the ball on that one, but I was only a fan of Earl Campbell and could not care less about a disgruntled team that would eventually end up in Tennessee. Shout-out to Bum, though. He knocked on the door; then, the following year, he banged on it. He then broke his foot trying to kick the door in because the iron curtain took no crap from any team.

Now that I’ve ticked off all the Houston Oiler fans, I will add that I knew about Washington Huskies quarterback Warren Moon because he was QB with the Edmonton Eskimos in the Canadian Football League before he came to Houston when Hugh Campbell, the Eskimos coach, took the head coaching job for the Oilers and lasted one year. Warren stayed a bit longer, but they never really played forward in the end. I won’t even mention those Buffalo Bills people who had the audacity to come from behind and make it to a Superbowl, where they lost to some Port Arthur native coaching the Dallas Cowboys. I remember he had nice hair and a few rings. Shout-out to Don Beebe for never giving up. Sorry, Leon.

Until next week!

Galveston Historical Foundation:

Home
GHF Volunteer Opportunities

Bum Phillips Kick that SOB in/Higlights Houston Oilers Pep Rally 1980 :

“The Comeback” (Oilers vs. Bills 1992 AFC Wild Card) :

https://youtu.be/u1lgLXsO2Ag

Thoughts and Ramblings: Port Arthur’s Quasquicentennial and Its Birders; Florence Was a Town in Hardin County?

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Driving the Golden Spike 1907

Well, all the pirates have gone, but I see loads of shiplap in the coming weeks, and that’s a good thing! The Galveston Historic Homes Tour is two weeks away, and the excitement is building—at least for me. Who knows what plans Wanda has? Probably some meeting somewhere where someone painted their house a color considered unsuitable by the neighborhood’s district association. Who knows?

Port Arthur’s quasquicentennial is this year, and they even made an excellent website for the occasion. The quasquicentennial is undoubtedly a milestone and a mouthful of sorts. I remember Texas’s sesquicentennial, and I couldn’t even pronounce that, but one of my four-year-old cousins could, and I was impressed. I look forward to following the year’s festivities.

Speaking of Port Arthur, I saw that they’ve added a bird blind on Pleasure Island. Pleasure Island has been a bird sanctuary for decades, and if the powers that be were ever to name it, I would suggest none other than Mrs. Bessie Reid. She was the original Port Arthur birder. Yes, her legacy was in Native American culture and history, but she was into her feathered friends first, and they needed no other ally at the time.

In my research on Florence Stratton, I initially dismissed a statement by her niece, Eunice Stephens, made in a newspaper article, according to which the city of Florence, Texas, was named after her aunt. Early in my research, I proved this wrong because Florence, Texas, located in Williamson County, was founded in the 1850s. However, a newspaper article from 1907 revealed some details that didn’t make sense with what we see today. Apparently, there was another “town” named Florence between Sour Lake and the newly formed settlement of Hardin. The article mentioned a new sawmill near Florence, located in Hardin County, which is the only documented source we have of this “town.” The article states that the place was named after Florence Stratton. Currently, I have no idea why. The “town,” if you can call it that—there was no post office, nor did it end on any map that I’ve found—didn’t last. It probably was more of a train stop for the sawmill. As we know, many of those lumber towns were abandoned as people moved on to the next big thing at the time—oil.

R. C. Duff, president of the Beaumont, Sour Lake, and Western Railway, was the person who drove the last spike connecting the railroad from Beaumont to Houston. He was also the one to name the town after Florence Stratton. Why? I have no idea other than the fact that the Duff family was close to Florence. At her funeral in 1938, there was a Duff pallbearer. R. C. Duff, his wife, and two daughters made the trip to this special event, and thanks to this article, I know who the skinny giant with the anvil in the photo is. I will say that the photos I have of the driving of the golden spike make more sense now. One problem I have with this is that back in 2014, when I asked pretty much everyone in Hardin County about a town called Florence, they had never heard of it. This will definitely require more research.

One thing I would like to put out there is this: if you have ever heard of a town or a train stop called Florence in Hardin County, I want to hear from you! rediscoveringsetx@gmail.com

I guess this is where I should grovel and say sorry to Eunice for doubting her. Unlike past researchers, I will admit that I’m wrong. However, I will jab back that Eunice still got her aunt’s birth year wrong!

No, I am not Wanda, and history is what it is. We are all just trying to make sense of what happened before us. Eunice was a big part in solving some of the mysteries surrounding her aunt. Although we probably wouldn’t have gotten along, we were here for the same reason—to keep Florence Stratton’s memory alive for all to enjoy and learn about the history of our beloved Southeast Texas.

I’ve added a PDF link of this article to this post if anyone is interested (if that’s the case, you’re greatly appreciated).

https://www.genealogybank.com/doc/newspapers/image/v2%3A11FCD9F6C526DCD9%40GB3NEWS-167A1953F2577872%402417776-167A02BEF86FD633%402?clipid=hdgdmxpgzygmxqebjzbtrxnuqydshjkd_wma-gateway010_1682211389364

I will also post the article on the Facebook page later in the day.

Until next week!

Galveston Historic Homes Tour:  https://www.galvestonhistory.org/events/galveston-historic-homes-tour

Port Arthur 125th Anniversary:

home

Port Arthur Birding Site:

https://visitportarthurtx.com/things-to-do/attraction/pleasure-island-bird-blind/

Beaumont, Sour Lake, and Western Railway: https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/beaumont-sour-lake-and-western-railway

Thoughts and Ramblings: The Rowleys; No Word on the GPR Survey; Hoppy Easter; So Says Susie

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Johnny Horton with the Rowley Trio

The Rowleys are trending again. I don’t often check my stats, but when I do, it’s either “The Legend of Sarah Jane Road” or “The Legend of Bragg Road.” The people who share my articles are into ghost legends, growing up in Port Arthur, or the restaurants they would eat at. I guess it’s food for thought. But I usually also see interest in the Rowley family articles—to me, they are a part of history that needs to be told. Yes, most of the hits come from the family itself, but the historical aspect inspired me to search for answers in order to tell the correct story of what happened to each member of this family. I often think about Gene, Dido, Jerry, Rex Jr., and their father, Rex. I have a photo of the Rowley Trio with Johnny Horton in my office. I nicked it from a YouTube video; since then, I offered it to the interweb and the family. I’ll leave a link to the Rowley Trio and their amazing story below.

My first association with the Rowleys was at Greenlawn Cemetery in Groves while I was visiting the plot initially reserved for World War I veterans and their families. Walking through the rows, I noticed a headstone with a photo of a young girl and a poem under it. The poem was odd and depressing, so I wanted to know her story.

Virginia Lee Rowley

If I must die then die I must and when the coffin round me rusts my bones will go whence they came and all that’s left is my name. To shield that name I’ll do my best; that’s all that’s left when I’m at rest. I’ll do no harm and bring no shame upon my dad and mother’s name.

When I first saw the headstone, I immediately began to research its story. I found that someone from Port Arthur had made a twelve-minute movie about the girl’s presumed life. I won’t get into the crap that this jackass put out because he was wrong for doing this. Virginia “Gene” Rowley died in San Antonio in a car accident. She was there working as a radio operator at Kelly Field.

Her mother probably added the poem to the headstone because Gene was a poet and had won awards for her writing. She may have also been saddened by her father’s suicide in 1934. Rex was in the Great War, but I have no information on how and where he served. According to the newspaper articles, he was upset that he couldn’t find a job. Remember, this was during the Great Depression. Although our SETX area did not suffer as much as most of the country, some of its residents did. Both Rex and Gene are buried in the World War I plot. They are not side by side but giving their backs to each other. Although they are facing away from one another, I have a feeling they are looking at each other eye to eye. In the end, we can only guess how it is.

Jeanna Clare and Don Mahoney

There is a lot of tragedy here. Fortunately, a descendant sent me some information on Vera (Dido) and Jerry, who had a different life. The story of the Rowley Trio is amazing. They played with some big names at the time. One was Johnny Horton. They even played on the Louisiana Hayride radio show, which launched many careers during that era, including Elvis Presley, Hank Williams, Kitty Wells, and Jim Reeves. The Rowley Trio didn’t rise to that level of stardom, but Dido continued her career in show business. Some of you here and in Houston who grew up in the 1960s might remember the name of Don Mahoney if you watched KPRC on Saturdays. Don Mahoney had a local television show called Don Mahoney and Jeanna Clare and Their Kiddie Troupers. It was a talent show for kids, but the two hosts emulated Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. Yes, Dido was Jeanna Clare!

Between the tragedy and the triumph, there is a lot here that the family can be proud of. They are not the Kennedys, which is a positive thing, and I see their part in SETX history as a source of great inspiration. And yes, I wanted to tell their story correctly. They deserved as much. Well, Nederland, you have other celebrities in the world of entertainment. Move over, Tex Ritter, and let the Rowley Trio and Jeanna Clare join you on the pedestal of entertainers from Nederland, Texas. I know you would Welkom that because it’s on your Boston Avenue sign!

As I write, I still haven’t heard anything back from the ground-penetrating radar (GPR) survey. It may take a few weeks, but hopefully there will be something of substance that we can use as proof of where the yellow fever victims are buried. I’m crossing my fingers but not holding my breath. The GPR machine can penetrate concrete but has trouble with the clay soil of Sabine Pass. The more sand in the soil the better it works. Those thinking of using something like this tool should keep this issue in mind.

Well, it’s Easter Sunday, and I’m working because there is no rest for the wicked. So, I’ll bid you farewell and let Susie Spindletop take over for some Weekly Letter “hoppy” memories.

Dear Della:

I am like Tom Heflin, Easter makes me sick. The Alabama senator has been egged so often during his speaking tours that I hear he dodges every time any one mentions Easter to him.

Easter makes me sick, however, for an entirely different reason. According to my way of thinking Easter is divided into three classes:

Too cold for Easter hats.

Too wet for Easter hats.

No Easter hats.

I have never known any other kind of Easter Sunday. Therefore Easter makes me sick.

                                         *                         *                         *

It is intriguing to delve into the beginnings of a festival such as Easter, isn’t it? So many whimsical customs come to light which account for many of our modern observances of the day.

Frinstance, Della, where did the custom of the Easter bonnet originate? An old superstition to the effect that a new bonnet worn on Easter Sunday would insure love and happiness in the ensuing year is back of it.

                                          *                          *                         *

And how come the Easter egg? Many hundreds of years ago the egg stood as a symbol of a new life, I read, and played an important part in the religious ceremonies of the Egyptians, Persians, Greeks, Gauls, and Romans. Later, the Christians took an egg as an emblem of the resurrection.

                                         *                             *                       *

About egg rolling?

Well as far as I can find out, egg rolling had its inception in England.

It seems in ancient days it took a most astonishing form. People themselves were accustomed to roll down Greenwich Hill, supposedly for the purpose of expressing the ecstasy which the return of spring incited. This custom was abandoned and in its place came the charming practice of egg rolling.

It is related that in olden times, poor children would wander through the streets singing. For reward people would give them colored Easter eggs which they would take up to the same hill. Arrived at the hill they would roll their eggs down and the child who succeeded in rolling his so that they reached the bottom intact would be proclaimed the winner.

                                    *                             *                           *

Della, from England, too, I notice, came the quaint superstition that the sun danced on Easter morning—a superstition which to this day is solemnly believed and celebrated in parts of Ireland. In order to see the “sun dance” the people would arise at dawn and go forth in masses. I’ll take their word for it. How about you?

So wrote Susie,

Easter Sunday, March 31, 1929

Don Mahoney and Jeanna Clare with Their Kiddie Troupers | Segment (1970)

https://texasarchive.org/2016_04235

The Rowley Trio:

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2017/04/11/the-rowley-trio/

Virginia Lee Rowley:

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2015/12/29/tales-from-hallowed-ground-virginia-lee-rowley/

Louisiana Hayride: 

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

Dido Rowley And The Troupers – When The Chips Are Down (Enterprise GS-1206) [1957 country bopper]

Thoughts and Ramblings: Historic Homes Tour 2023; Gilham Park Had a Rocket Slide; South Texas State Fair; Back in Sabine Pass

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The rocket slide is on the right of the water tower

The Galveston Historical Foundation has released the list of this year’s Historic Homes Tour, and I’m excited to see that a restoration that has been in progress for a few years has been added to the list. Is it fully restored? We will see on May 6! I have also seen the house where I’ll be volunteering, and it is small, but they have recently finished restoring/updating it. I was getting kind of nervous because, based on the Google Maps photo from 2019, I thought I would have to bring my hedge trimmer and paintbrush to get it up to shape. Thankfully, someone did an excellent job restoring it, and it looks terrific.

1901 James and Mary Prindiville House

I always volunteer with the Candy Lady. Anyone who has taken the tour for several years or is from Liberty County or Galveston knows who this precious being is on the first week of the tour, and this year is no different. The only thing different is that this house is not the cover house. It is a smaller house and we will do the best we can to get you in as soon as possible, but there will be lines and possibly booties involved, so stay tuned. I am the gatekeeper, and I’ll have a clipboard; but don’t worry, I never wave it around and say that I’m in charge. I leave that to the paid employees of a historical foundation. I know your struggle, and it is my struggle.

I love being a gatekeeper, although I don’t know who is the key master, and I also don’t know who to call if someone in the line asks if the house is haunted because that’s not discussed on the tour. I’m the person who lets you through the gate. Depending on the size of the house, there is a limit to how many people can enter at a time. Last year, I sent 700 people into the cover house in five hours. That was a record for me, but I doubt it will be reached this year, and that’s okay. We will enjoy this tour. I wanted to discuss other known gatekeepers, such as dream expert Fredrick Von Krueger, but he never returned my calls. His loss.

Breaking news!

Well, at least for me. Someone researching rocket slides (who knew this was a thing) emailed me about a photo from Gilham Park from the 1960s, and I’ve been ecstatic ever since. No, it wasn’t Rose Hill Park; it was Port Arthur, and I know the kids around Gilham Circle enjoyed the hell out of this rocket slide. It’s an aerial view of the water tower, and you can see the rocket slide nearby. I’m sure I speak for those who grew up here when I say that we love this photo because we all know this was ours; that park witnessed many dreams and wishful plans to make our adult years great. Thank you to those in charge of the parks who brought a lot of happiness to us kids. Whether it was Rose Hill or Gilham, we are grateful to you.

Sometimes, I get random texts about SETX history, and this week was no different. I got a text about the name of the South Texas State Fair. Luckily, a friend of mine, who is a research genius, did a report on the fair, so I replied with her work because I’m not a genius and she is thorough in her research. Everything is flowers and unicorns currently, but this is something few people know: Why “South” and not “Southeast”? Well, according to my friend’s report, they had random small fairs in SETX until 1906 when the Beaumont Horse Show and Race Meet gave the area its first taste of carnival flair.

In the next two years, they would have the Jefferson County Trucker’s Fair in 1907 and the Southeast Texas Fair and Pure Food Show in 1908. Between 1909 and 1914, the latter was called Southeast Texas Fair. It wasn’t until 1915 that they changed the name to South Texas State Fair. It is still unknown why they went with “South” instead of “Southeast.” It could be just some random name that they thought was appropriate at the time.

We were back in Sabine Pass yesterday. That makes three straight Saturdays I was out in Sabine Pass Cemetery. Will there be a fourth? I have no idea. Two weeks ago, the saturated grounds hampered our efforts; hopefully, we will have better luck when the data comes back later this week. Fingers crossed, we’ll have positive results.

Until next week, enjoy your fried fair delicacies and eat a corndog for me because I’m not getting onto that mess known as I-10. For those who do, good luck and Godspeed.

Thoughts and Ramblings The Evening Edition: Sabine Pass Cemetery, Beaumont Municipal Airport Fly-In, I-10, and TxDOT is the Devil

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Page Cemetery

Yesterday, I returned to Sabine Pass Cemetery to visit ol’ Kate and get a few more photos of the bluebonnets engulfing Page Cemetery and a couple of other plots. The temperature was 74 degrees, and the weather was perfect, unlike last week, when temperatures topped out at 54 degrees and a cold wind and drizzle affected the survey. What a difference a week makes in SETX. I was also there to photograph the Page Cemetery stone to send to the Historical Commission to verify that it is “Page” and not “Pace,” as stated in the records. I guess Google needs to update its maps as well. It’s “Cemetery Road,” not “Pace Cemetery Road.”

Driving to Sabine Pass

Speaking of roads, I don’t think I’ve mentioned anything about the new road that heads to Sabine Pass. They built it further inland and away from the ship channel. While it’s very nice, I must say it has a few dips, and I was airborne a few times—but I digress.

After my trip to Sabine Pass, I high-tailed it to Beaumont for the Beaumont Municipal Airport Fly-In. I thought it was an excellent event and will certainly be back there for other events. A couple of things caught my eye. The first was the Vultee “Valiant” BT-13. There are few of these trainers left because most were sold for parts for crop dusters. It’s a beautiful plane, and the pilot/owner was a wealth of knowledge about the history of his Valiant. I’m glad he decided to fly in, as he said that he wasn’t really planning to be there but changed his mind when he saw his plane in the Fly-In advertisement. “I guess that if they make you Miss March on the cover, you ought to show up.” 

Another gem at the Fly-In was the Nanchang CJ-6A Chinese trainer. I’ve never seen anything like it. Sorry to geek out with World War II aviation talk, but it looked like someone took a fuselage from a Nakajima B5N2 “Kate” and the wings of a Vought F4U Corsair and put them on a three-wheel cart. It’s gorgeous, and the pilot/owner loves every minute of flying it. Another odd thing I had never seen before was the three pegs sticking out from the top of the wings and in front of the plane near the nose. These were used to tell the pilot and trainee that the wheels were down. In the air, when the wheels were retracted, the pegs slide into the wings and fuselage to show the crew that they were up.

There were a few other vintage planes and two helicopters at the show, but most planes were a hodgepodge of civilian aircraft enticed by the cheap fuel. Some of these could also be called vintage, or they at least looked the part. But the highlight, at least for me, was when the T-6 Texan landed. She is a beauty. As you may have figured out, I love planes of this era, and the Texan is high on my list because it was the last trainer for pilots. After you graduated from flying this gem, your options as a newly certified killer of the skies were endless—that is, until you come across some guy with a clipboard helping his buddies get the good planes, while leaving you in a lottery with all the other new pilots. I base this statement on Ken Thomas’s reflection of his time flying a P-47 Thunderbolt in World War II. His story is told on the Warrior Next Door podcast. If you want to hear a great oral history story, check out the link at the bottom.

Well, that’s about it for this extra edition. I believe that everyone was happy yesterday. Kate with her new bow, me looking at the vintage planes, pilots getting cheap fuel, and Beaumont Municipal Airport enjoying the turnout from the event. I assume that the only ones ticked off were the people on I-10 westbound, as when I passed them, they were backed up in Beaumont; however, when I talked to the Valiant pilot, he said he had flown over I-10, and it was backed up to the Anahuac bridge. I-10 and TxDOT are the devil.

The Warrior Next Door Podcast: https://www.thewarriornextdoor.com/ken-thomas

Thoughts and Ramblings: The Yellow Jack, Kate, and the Two Sarahs; Willie Nelson; the GPR Survey; Olveta Culp; Jackie Cochran; and the Nachthexen

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Last week, I talked about the mass grave of yellow fever victims from 1862; I’ve also mentioned the Yellow Jack before in connection to Kate Dorman lore. So, let’s get into what happened and the history of that time.

In July of 1862, the yellow fever epidemic hit Sabine Pass as a result of a vessel that ran the blockade by the Union navy. At least one thousand people deserted the area, afraid of what was then known as the Yellow Jack. The fever killed a hundred people in Sabine and Beaumont combined, forty of whom were Confederate soldiers. At the time, a woman named Kate Dorman, who owned the Catfish Hotel, saw her tenants fleeing like everyone else in Sabine Pass, but she stood strong. Seeing the sick and dying from the wretched disease, she turned her hotel into a makeshift hospital. With no regard for their health, Kate, Sarah Vosburg, and Sarah Ann King Court cared for the unwell.

Sarah Ann King Court

At this time, Union forces were in the area but were not permitted to take the town because of the yellow fever outbreak. It wasn’t until October that the federals decided to land in Sabine and take out a fort and the calvary barracks. They had a howitzer but needed a horse and a cart to transport it, so they took Kate’s. Only God and the Union navy know what wrath Kate unleashed upon them. After seizing Kate’s horse and cart, the soldier in command went to Kate’s husband and said that they would hang him if he didn’t shut up his wife because hanging a woman in 1862 would not look good for the federals. Also, legend has it that the commander assured Kate they would return both the horse and the cart. And they did. Even in war, ticking off a four-foot-eleven Irish woman is not good.

I don’t know if this is accurate, but according to Willie Nelson, “you can’t hang a man for killin’ a woman who’s tryin’ to steal your horse.” I assume it would be reversed if the woman owned the horse and some guy and his foreign military invader buddies were the thieves. So, I guess Kate would have had to shoot him and go to trial, but it was wartime, and Texas law did not matter when the state was invaded by a foreign power, so I have no idea. Maybe I thought about this too much. I guess I should post this on one of Wanda’s pages so that an argument would ensue. I’m certain that a few of her besties would be in Facebook jail after commenting.

Well, the ground penetrating radar (GPR) survey was not good. The results were not good because of the weather conditions and the ground’s saturation. The GPR only worked up to a meter down, which meant nothing was found. I assume we need to be out there in August’s hot, dry, and drought-like conditions. This is fine with me, and I’m sure the others will agree because it was cold! Currently, with notice, I have no problem volunteering for this project. One thing I wonder about is if it is in the marsh. I don’t know if the GPR is something that could be used. I’m sure there’s something out there, but there are many more intelligent people than me in the mix, so I’ll let them handle it going forward.

Jackie Cochran

Yes, it is Women’s History Month, and I want to bring up Olveta Culp, but I’m pro-Florence Stratton, so I’ll do it like this. William P. Hobby married Willie Cooper in New Orleans in 1915. Florence was best friends with Hobby and Willie, so much so that she lived in the Texas governor’s mansion. There is lore that when Willie died, Florence may have thought that W. P. would marry her, but he married Olveta instead in 1931. Hobby was fifty-three at the time, and Florence was forty-nine, but Olveta was twenty-six. Not knowing anything else other than that, I will leave you with this quote from Jackie Cochran, the head of the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP), on Olveta, “I will not serve under a woman who doesn’t know her ass from a propeller.”

Jackie with her WASP trainees

Jackie Cochran was a pilot and didn’t have time for political BS like Olveta. She also knew that her gals in WASP could ferry planes from the factories to their destination for the war effort, while their male counterparts were in combat roles. She was the first woman to fly a bomber across the Atlantic and volunteered for a time in England. So, she saw how female pilots were a great resource for the war effort. They were appreciated, unlike the WASP women here in the United States, or the Nachthexen who were flying real sorties against the Germans. I want to get into that in a bit.

It’s amazing how much crap oozes to the surface when people do things that tick off others. What did they do? They did a man’s job and probably did it better. Many men took offense for some damn reason that women were wearing the uniform and getting the job done. The crap that these women had to go through, including the sabotaging of their planes! Really! Some of the pilots died because of this. These jacklegs, who never saw combat, were ticked off because a woman could fly a plane. That is the lowest form of life, and I compare this to the Russians, or should I say the Soviets?

Nachthexen Night Witches

I mentioned the Nachthexen (Ночные ведьмы) earlier. These ladies did see combat and were equally ready to do their part. So much so, in fact, that they flew crop dusters at night on German targets. They had to turn their engines off and glide toward the target as soon as they reached their mark. They dealt with frostbite and carried out multiple bombing runs each night. Their clothes didn’t fit because they were given male uniforms, and they were not seen as proper soldiers. These were the women of the 588th Night Bomber Regiment, later known as the 46th Taman Guards Night Bomber Aviation Regiment, of the Soviet air force.

This is not really SETX history, but the Nachthexen (Night Witches) and Jackie Cochran hit a nerve with me, as much as old Kate did. Kate would have approved of Jackie Cochran, and if she had had twenty-five Night Witches, she would have dealt with the federals stealing her horse.

Until next week.

W.T. Block Yellow Fever:

http://www.wtblock.com/yellow_fever.htm

Redheaded Stranger:

Jackie Cochran:

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

Oveta Culp Hobby:

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

WASPs:

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

Night Witches:

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