This week may be short and sweet because my granddaughter, Erzsébet, is running rampant in my office. I guess I should have nicknamed her Erwin, as in Erwin Rommel, instead of Erzsébet, because the blitzkrieg is strong with this two-and-a-half-year-old. I will also admit that her sword skills (with a plastic knife) have improved thanks to her father (a marine) and that her banzai charges have also gotten better (thanks to me) since her last visit—but I digress!
Yesterday, a few of us at the Jefferson County Historical Commission (JCHC) started a project that was a long time in the making. Before I get into our plans, I will tell you a little bit of the history of what I will call the Lincoln Rest Cemetery Project.
Back in 2012, when I joined the JCHC, I learned of an abandoned cemetery on Labelle Road. The then cemetery chair said in a meeting that she tried to enter the grounds, but the trees and the underbrush were too thick to penetrate. So here I go, a couple of weeks later, armed with a line trimmer, a hedge trimmer, and loppers. It took me two hours to make it to the first crypt, but it was the beginning of a twelve-year (and counting) journey. That day, I discovered that some of the crypts were broken. I found out later that a group of teenagers from Beaumont vandalized this cemetery in 1967. This was the first detail I learned of the cemetery, but why did it become abandoned?
Initially, we called this the Broussard Cemetery, but after doing some research, we realized that it was the Lincoln Rest Cemetery, a burial site for low-income people used between 1930 and 1950. It has been abandoned ever since. The county did a cleanup a few times through the years, but there is no overseer of this hallowed ground. The last cleanup was in 2015, and they did a great job clearing three acres of what is an eleven-acre cemetery. At the time, the public was watching. They saw a crew working in an old cemetery and blue tarps put down over the damaged and broken crypts. So, some of you called KBMT News, saying that there were people removing bodies. They weren’t, but KBMT came out and discovered the rub of the situation.
One great thing from this episode was that a man named Cleveland Dyer, a World War II navy veteran, saw the KBMT News broadcast and contacted the program because his dad was buried in the cemetery. He was ninety-seven years old at the time and had been trying to clean around his father’s crypt through the years. In 2015, he visited the cleared cemetery, pointed out his father’s crypt, and made sure we knew about it.
One problem we’ve had with identifying the crypts and graves is that we have a map of the cemetery but no names, and since this is an abandoned burial ground with no headstones, we have no information on its residents. We found one headstone in the three acres that were cleared, and it belonged to Uncle Ed Jones, who died in 1930. I would assume that one of the workers laid the stone on Mr. Dyer’s crypt during the cleanup, and yes, we thought that was where Mr. Jones was buried, but thanks to Cleveland Dyer, we now know that this is not the case. Also, we found the base of a headstone that is the perfect size for Mr. Jones’s tombstone, so that was also a win.
Since the 2015 cleanup, we’ve had floods, COVID-19, and many other issues that have meant this cemetery hasn’t been cared for as it should, but there is hope. A few individuals seem to want this hallowed ground cared for. Cleveland Dyer passed in 2018, and I have the recording of the oral-history interview we did with him the day he set foot in the cleared cemetery where his father is interred. When you hear his voice, you can feel his determination to keep his father’s resting place tidy.
We began cleaning the cemetery on Saturday; we mowed the trails to the crypts and got rid of some of the brush around them. We are not done—by any means—but it’s baby steps in a major project. If you would like to get involved and volunteer on this project, email me at rediscovingsetx@gmail.com
I hope everyone got a peek at the solar eclipse on Monday. It was cloudy here, so there was a filter effect, and you could actually get a photo or two from a regular camera. I took a few cell phone photos. I’m not that into photographing the sun. In contrast, I will go to great lengths to get a shot of a lunar eclipse. I have a few on my Flickr page. I’ll leave the link to it at the bottom of the blog.
For the past 12 months, I’ve been going through some things I’ve collected over the years, and I feel that some of this stuff needs a home now. Other things, such as the regional history books, need an exit plan—my exit plan, to be blunt. I have a considerable number of books on the history of Southeast Texas (SETX), and although most of them do not have monetary value, the references they contain are priceless for researchers, and they eventually will need homes.
My research on SETX history and my twelve years of researching Florence Stratton are in good hands. This data shouldn’t be lost because it is currently held by multiple people and a few organizations. History should be available to everyone; it should not be locked up! For the most part, this blog and its Facebook page have sought to uncover little-known SETX stories and facts. I’ve tried to show the glory of these stories because I think that they are as good as any well-promoted celebrity in our area who has a billboard dedicated to them stating “X lives in our museum.”
On a side note, I know a celebrity who doesn’t live in a museum, although part of her is in a genie lamp interred in one. That would be Scarlet O’Hara’s younger sister, and she is as awesome as the museum. I’ll leave the links at the bottom of the blog, and I will state that the Museum of the Gulf Coast is a top-notch museum, which you must visit!
Not to cause alarm, but those weather people are getting a bit giddy. No, not the ghost-hunting weather people in our area, which I wrote about in October, but those folks who think that weather forecasting should always be dramatic. Hell, they even name snowstorms now! Apparently, we are supposed to run out of names for tropical storms during this season. If that’s the case, then I hope they add phi, slama, and jama from the Latin alphabet (a couple of these characters may or may not be in the Latin alphabet). A friend at the University of Houston suggested that I recommend these names. Sometimes, I question her input concerning facts.
Honestly, I do believe that if I ever see Jim Cantore in my area, I will run like hell. He has a bit more cred than anyone at WeatherNation. I only know about this channel because I had Dish during Hurricane Laura, and they were reporting “from Lake Charles, Texas.” It’s not that I put the Weather Channel on a pedestal, but WeatherNation is its Dollar Tree version, if you see what I mean.
The 50th anniversary of the Galveston Historic Homes Tour is a few weeks away, and I acknowledge that I am a bit dizzy because of this tour. I kind of know where some of the ghosts are hiding, but they will not be on the tour, and as volunteers, we do not talk about such things. If you want to talk about such things, you can hit me up while I’m standing in the line on Saturday, May 4, as I will be taking the tour. Alternatively, you can ask the expert, Kathleen Maca, and take one of her tours. Whether it’s a Galveston cemetery tour or learning about ghosts on the strand, she is the best when it comes to Galveston history and those stories you can’t find anywhere else. I’ll leave a link to her tour schedule.
Today, I smelled summer, or at least I smelled May. The ligustrums are beginning to bloom, which is lovely for me but a death knell for those of you with allergies. I refuse to quote Lynyrd Skynyrd, but “Ooh, that smell!” Growing up, I loved the smell of ligustrums in the morning, at noon, and during the night. Unfortunately, one of my siblings is not too keen on this hedge, and she’s a step away from the ER if she goes near it. I’ll just state that I love ligustrums, but it’s bad when you invite people over for a garden party and the heads of half of your peeps explode.
Most people know that I don’t have garden parties, and if I did, I would have cetirizine as an appetizer.
Since it’s the 50th anniversary of the Galveston Historic Homes Tour, I will insert a few additions to this blog from the early days. Looking back, I’ve blogged, promoted, and taken the tour since 2012. I love the tour, and I treasure the Candy Lady, whom I volunteer with. I will also state that the homes are haunted. As far as the Galveston Historical Foundation goes, I’ll give them a positive nod and say that they have rid themselves of the parasites who used to run what was a dog-and-pony show. The tour is now a decent event to visit and volunteer for. I hope to see you on the tour on May 4 and at the 1871 Frederick and Minna Martini Cottage on 1217 Market Street on Cinco De Mayo!
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
Last week, a couple of people asked me about books written on Texaco, and I immediately thought of Elton Gish. Elton authored Texaco’s Port Arthur Works: A Legacy of Spindletop and Sour Lake. Elton worked for Texaco for decades, and he became interested in its history early when he noticed old photos hanging on the walls of its offices. One day, he asked if he could have an aerial photo of the refinery; eventually, he was given an 8 x 10 photo and was hooked on the company’s history ever since. I have an hour of audio of him speaking at one of the Jefferson County Historical Commission (JCHC)/Certified Local Government meetings in 2016. I’ll get into that briefly, but first I want to go down the Texaco books road.
I forgot the year, but I found another book on Texaco at an estate sale (another shout-out to Heather at Ready, Set, Sale). I found both the paperback and hardback versions. The book was The Texaco Story: The First Fifty Years 1902–1952 by Marquis James. The hardcover version had a letter attached to it, signed by the chairman of the board and the president of the Texas Company. I don’t translate scribble, and the names are not significant to me, so I will skip the who’s who of Texaco’s grand pooh-bahs. However, I do believe that the letter was important to both the receiver and the company at the time.
Both books have some great photos from long ago, and I will also throw in an awesome box set of postcards I have from 2001 from the Texaco Inc. historical collection (again, Heather rocks!). I could, and did, spend hours looking at these photos and postcards.
The Elton Gish audio file from 2016 brought back many memories. I had forgotten about his journey at Texaco, and the other speakers at the meeting were also fabulous. Sarah Bellian, a JCHC member and the then curator at the Museum of the Gulf Coast, definitely added some color to the history at the meeting. Sarah is currently the curator at the Pacific Fleet Submarine Museum in Honolulu, Hawaii (more on this later). Elton’s presentation at the meeting in question was nothing less than superb. He brought many Texaco product containers, cans, and boxes from throughout the company’s history. He even donned a Texaco uniform and hat! My only regret is that I didn’t make a video of the meeting because he had a PowerPoint presentation with his talk. I do have a few photos of it, which I will post.
I ran into a good friend at H-E-B this week. I won’t go all in—like Toodlum, a.k.a. Martha Ferguson, did in the ’90s about Adam Troy Rodriguez—but I will state that there is no one else I will stand next to in the cheese section in front of the meat aisle for over 30 minutes talking about Port Arthur history. The fajita potato at his restaurant, Mi Ranchito in Groves, Texas, was all I needed back then. (Pie Face’s jambalaya was also pretty good at the time.) I got to know his family, and I loved all of them. So, I guess I’m having a Toodlum moment. It may be controversial, but I will go ahead and say that Troy’s dirty rice is the best. I don’t care what your grandmother cooks (unless her name was Mrs. Domec and she made crab cakes when I was five years old—heaven!).
Last week, I asked if anyone would be interested in volunteering for a cleanup project. Thanks to those who responded. This project is in the works, so it may take some time to dot the i’s and cross the t’s, but I will keep you informed. When the ball gets rolling, we will do a piece on it here.
I have a few audio files from the past that I want to revisit next week. One includes my uncle. I did an oral history about when he lived in Beauxart Gardens in the ’30s. I also want to listen to my friend Millie’s oral history of when she lived in Port Arthur during World War II. I have many things to do, but not the time to do them, but I’ll try.
I mentioned earlier that Sarah is now in Hawaii, at the Pacific Fleet Submarine Museum. In April of 2020, while everyone was locked down and masked up, I received a message and two photos of a letter printed with the letterhead of the Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corporation. The second page contained a plethora of events that happened during the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. I will say that Sarah knew of my excessive interest in the movie Tora! Tora! Tora!, and that day she threw this old mediocre dog the most significant bone from his childhood. Courtesy of the Pacific Fleet Submarine Museum at Pearl Harbor (USS Bowfin)! Everyone knows I’m obsessed with this movie and World War II history. To have a crumb of insight into what was going on at the time and the film’s preparations was gold for me. There will be a day that I will go all Yukari Akiyama 秋山 優花里 in on a blog about this movie, along with the original Midway. Heck, Les Nessman (Richard Sanders) was in it before he made history by reporting on the infamous turkey drop on WKRP in Cincinnati. I will do a whole blog on this stuff and publish it as a Sunday Extra Edition, and no one will read it because it doesn’t mention Beaumont or Port Arthur, but I will not care because it’s Tora! Tora! Tora!.
Eighty-six years ago tonight, SETX lost a friend—Florence Stratton died at Touro Infirmary in New Orleans. I’ll post the tribute to her at 6:30 this evening, but I did want to get into a few things first. I’ve been doing this blog since May 2012. Along the way, I’ve learned many things and researched many people, but Florence is the one person I’ve continuously investigated. I’ve spent an enormous amount of time and money trying to bring her story to light. Yes, there are articles written about her, and their authors did a good job with what information they had at the time. In my work, I wanted to uncover her story, which is hard to find because she was always in the background. Despite all the Susie Spindletop Weekly Letters, she offered little insight into her life. The letters mostly promoted her friends and readers, as she knew people would be interested in them. This is why there were 200 people inside her small house at 1929 McFaddin Avenue for her funeral. It is also why the funeral procession to Magnolia Cemetery was a mile long.
Thirteen years of digging into her family’s and friends’ history has been a treat, and I will continue to dig. I’ve noticed that more people, especially women, are becoming interested in her story, and I’m glad to see this because she was there in 1918, in the background, doing her part to try to get women the right to vote. They succeeded, but to my knowledge, she never wrote about her role in this struggle in her weekly letters. (Her weekly letters began on February 28, 1926, so eight years later, but it was still a special achievement.) I just hope that I have allies so that when I’m gone, someone will continue digging into the life of Florence Stratton (a.k.a. Susie Spindletop). And I think I do. I hope I’ve given them a good starting point. Florence Vor! Full speed ahead!
Until next week, I hope we can put the life preservers away while driving to H-E-B. I’m about ready for a hot drought.
Farewell To A Valued Friend:
THE DEATH of Miss Florence Stratton brings genuine sorrow to a numerous company. It is with a feeling of the greatest personal loss that those of us who had been closely associated with her through the years in newspaper work mourn her passing. And all of us who knew her well feel quite certain that when she entered that corridor of eternal darkness she did so unafraid, her head held high and her spirit uncowed.
First as a public school teacher and then as a newspaper woman, her whole life from youth to death was busy and useful. She loved her work, found no diversion that equaled it in pleasure and satisfaction,and to it devoted her talents and energy to the full. On her last assignment when she suffered a slight stroke she stood by her guns until her chore was completed, then left the office never to return. Into her work she put the sympathy and sentiment that marked her character. She was always a womanly woman, concerned primarily with the interests of women, and always a gentlewoman in the broad and best sense of the word. In the course of her long and honorable service she made and kept innumerable friends, by all of whom she will be tenderly remembered, and the still larger circle who knew her through her work will not soon forget…
Good morning to everyone except Mr. Snow Miser. Here he comes now, the big ham. His icy crap and low temps suck. I prefer Mr. Heat Miser because he’s Mr. Green Christmas. He’s Mr. Sun. He’s Mr. Heat Blister and Mr. One Hundred and One. They call him Heat Miser because whatever he touches starts to melt in his clutch. He’s too much!
I hope you all survived this icy nonsense called mid-January. I blame all the folk participating in dry January. January is never dry, just frozen for the weekend, then we deal with rain and the Canadian thistle weeds, clover, and other growing stuff that appears in spring. Not to brag, but I am certified in afterlife heat-tolerance training. This does not matter in January, though. It basically means that I have a jacket on when the temperatures fall below 67 degrees.
This week, I have been focusing on the Port Arthur High School yearbooks that I acquired from a friend who texts me whenever he finds something from Port Arthur. Although I can’t take everything he suggests, he somehow finds a lot of interesting stuff at estate sales. I have five editions of The Seagull, the yearbook of the first years of Port Arthur High School. I have the ones from 1918, 1922, 1923, 1925, and 1927 thanks to Mr. Don Smart. All the years are digitized and can be viewed at the Portal to Texas History. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of the blog.
I’ve also been looking at my maps, and the city of Ronald stands out because it was, I believe, a place where the train stopped. I have a map of the city from a Texas and New Orleans Railroad Survey. I did find a “Ronald, Texas” stop on the Houston and Sabine Pass Railroad. It was just south of Fannett and northeast of Big Hill on an 1898 map that I purchased from the Spindletop Boomtown Museum over ten years ago. I will state that this map keeps on giving, whether it’s finding Catherina Stengele’s rice farm and land or Ronald McDonald touting that he and N. A. Gallagher founded a city (yep, that’s his name, and now I really want to look into the story). I will also give kudos to the Spindletop Boomtown Museum for selling this treasure.
On Friday, I attended the “Preserving the Legacy of W. T. Block Jr.” lecture. Bill Block, W. T.’s son, did a fantastic job of explaining why we need to preserve history and how to do it. His journey of reclaiming some of W. T.’s files and learning the ropes of self-publishing to bring his books back to print for a decent price is commendable because some of these online stores are ridiculous. In the end, though, will you pay for what they offer? Luckily, the reprints of his father’s books are accessible at a decent price. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of the blog.
This event really had a good turnout, and I hope to attend more of these gatherings at the Tyrrell Historical Library. My only regret was not knowing that the Listen Closely podcast hostess/“Old News” Facebook page creator was in the audience. If you haven’t checked out the podcast and the Facebook page, I have the links! If that’s okay with you, Mrs. Marble! I love your work.
A few weeks ago, a reader sent me down memory lane. I found out that someone in her family lived basically across the street from the house I lived in during the 1990s. Also, we had a mutual interest in one of our neighbors. I have many spirit animals that have influenced me (isn’t that what the kids say? Or is that the new-aging community?). Margaret Hamilton (Wizard of Oz), Bunny Rabbit (from Captain Kangaroo), Oscar the Grouch (from Sesame Street), and Yukari Akiyama 秋山 優花里 (Tank Enthusiast from Girls Und Panzer) have all had an influence on my life, but not as much as Roy Temple. My neighbor, who was a living being, had a major impact on me on many levels. He taught me a lot and told me stories of coming to Port Arthur from Leesville, Louisiana, in 1957. I did a tribute for him in 2012. I’ll leave a link.
I don’t know if I ever told this story here before (I could go back and look for it, but it’s cold and my search engine is sketchy). A friend—we’ll call him Doug—saved a few treasures from a garbage pile. Unfortunately, someone passed, and the nieces and nephews threw out many boxes of gems. (This happens all the time, so if you have something to pass on, you should know that your family members are the worst people to trust to pass it on. Make a plan.) These boxes contained oil stock certificates, abstracts, lawyer stuff, a map of Hardin County, and a World War I Red Cross armband. The stock certificates were never given to me. Although worthless, they were cool, so the finder decided to keep them. They gave me the other stuff. I contacted the Hardin County Historical Commission and agreed to give them the map and all the papers. I decided to keep the armband. Everything was good to go the day before. That evening, as I was photographing and digitizing as many papers as I could, I became ill—ill enough to recognize the sign that a treasure needs to be in a certain place. The next afternoon, I dropped off all the papers, along with the armband, because that is where I suspect Mr. Cruse wanted it to be—I digress.
Today, if you visit the Hardin County Museum, you will see the Red Cross armband in the case, among other historical relics. I don’t go there often, but I love this museum, and I hope it continues to grow.
Would you be interested if there was a volunteer day to help clean up an abandoned cemetery in Jefferson County in late January? If you think you might want to help, reach out to me so I can give you the details. I will definitely be talking about this in future posts; for now, we need to get the details in order.
Until next week, make sure your bananas are secure in your kitchen because Ratatouille paid the ultimate price for sneaking in under the oaks on Block’s Formosan Farm and trying to eat my bananas at 3:30 a.m. The bananas are safe now, but my Tanto short sword is chipped.
