Dear Della,

Susie died last night. That’s why her letter won’t be in its usual place in the Enterprise tomorrow morning. We thought you ought to know. Here at the office we’re all rather stunned. Susie belonged to both papers, you know. She gave about 35 years of her life to these papers, Susie did, and from the editor who read her copy to the boys upstairs who set it there’s a strange, hard reluctance to accept the fact that her desk over there in the corner is closed for good.

Susie was … well, call it a tradition. She had more sheer newspaper sense up in her little finger than we brash younger fry have in our collective brain. We used to ride her a lot. Kidding Susie was good fun­—because she was “old school.” Hers were standards of that first brave sortie of women into curt, intense business of journalism. And she clung to them to the last in spite of us. Underneath, we loved her for it. She knew that, thank goodness. Good old trail-blazer.

Della, just to look at Susie you’d never have guessed the enchanting glamour of her life, Quiet and self-effacing, Susie was, with a funny little habit of tidying her hair all the time. But she’d met presidents, interviewed princesses, attended the highest functions of Washington. Long-distance calls came to her from Harper’s Publishing company, from the New York Times, from senators. I never knew a woman could have so many contacts—important ones. I never knew a woman who could, even by virtue of long service to a specialized profession like journalism, find somebody she knew in every city of importance in the nation. I never went to Susie with a question and came away without an answer.

M.M.

Beaumont Journal January 29, 1938

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 soo forget…

                                       Bill Beaumont

Beaumont Journal January 29, 1938

Beaumont Enterprise January 31, 1938

Friends of Low and High Estate pay final respects to Miss Florence Stratton

-One, Only ‘Susie Spindletop’ Called Rare and Gracious Influence, Versatile Genius

Several hundred people, her friends in life, paid the last tribute yesterday afternoon to Susie Spindletop. Miss Florence Stratton, for more than 35 years a Beaumont newspaper woman, and one of the most beloved figures in the newspaper world of her Texas, was buried on a hillside in Magnolia cemetery following impressive services at her home on McFaddin avenue. Her grave was covered with flowers, great sprays of blossoms she dearly loved, and smaller offerings from friends representing every walk of life in her city.

Rev. George E. Cameron, rector of St. Mark’s Episcopal church, who conducted the rites at the residence and at the graveside, said of her that there was but one Susie Spindletop– one Florence Stratton, and that she was the exception to the rule that everyone’s place could be filled satisfactorily by someone else.

While he spoke there was hardly a dry eye. Every room on the lower floor was filled, while scores stood outside. Every old family of Beaumont was represented. In the throng were many of Beaumont’s most prominent figures in the world of business, its courts, and professions.

                                                             Associates Attended

Scattered among those attending, often in little groups with saddened, downcast faces, was almost every newspaper man and woman in the city, with many of the Fourth estate who had worked with her in years gone by.

During the services several red camellias lay on her stilled typewriter in the editorial room of the Enterprise, place there by some member of the staff.

Miss Stratton’s body lay in a gray casket in the quaint dining room of her home beneath the portrait of her beloved grandfather, the late Asa E. Stratton, Sr. The casket was covered with a gorgeous blanket of white carnations, the offering of The Enterprise company, to which Miss Stratton had been attached for about 18 years. Upon her breast was a small spray of lilies of the valley and violets, which were perhaps her favorite flowers.

                                                          Floral Memorials

The entire house –the one spot on earth she loved best –was filled with blossoms. They came from every section of Texas –Houston, San Antonio, Dallas –from New Orleans, Lake Charles and other cities of Louisiana, from Tulsa, from her beloved Brazoria County, her birthplace, and from as far away as Virginia. The floral offerings from distant points, however, were limited only by the fact that distant friends did not know of her sudden passing in New Orleans Friday night.

Near the casket stood an appealing floral piece made of Japanese magnolias, sent by Miss Stratton’s fellow workers of the Enterprise staff. There was another from the editorial staff of The Beaumont Journal and other employees of the newspaper, on which she was employed prior to that paper’s being taken over by The Enterprise in 1920.

There were also flowers from the typographical chapels of The Enterprise and Journal –the men who for years “set” the Sunday column known as “Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter,” and her garden features and others. Among the offerings were those from Mrs. Ruth Sergent of San Antonio, her close friend; Miss Matilda Gray of Lake Charles, and her nephew, Lieut. Ernest Stevens of the United States navy, stationed at Portsmouth, VA.

                                                          From Out of Town        

Among relatives and friends from out of the city were Mrs. Tom Stratton of Angleton, Mrs. Jessie Stratton of Angleton, Bryan Stratton of Houston, Mr. and Mrs. J. E. Burkhart, Jr., of Houston, Mrs. W. V. Ezell, her aunt, of Houston, and Miss Mary Masterson, Mrs. Edna Saunders, Underwood Nazro, Martin Miller and Jimmy Bonner of Houston.

There were several long-distance calls of condolence, as well as telegrams of those of her friends –and she numbered them from New York to San Francisco –in every part of the country.

Rev. Mr. Cameron opened the Episcopal service with a part of the 14th chapter of St. John –“Let not your heart be troubled.”

Then he spoke tenderly of Miss Stratton, telling of the unusual place she held in Beaumont and in Texas. He called special attention to her charities, all of which were little known to any save those who accidently found them out. He said that her spirit was as exquisite as old lace, and that “like old lace, she fitted into any environment.” He said that her heart had a tremendous capacity for affection.

                                                         “A Gracious Influence”                                          

His remarks follow:

“This hour is one of deepest bereavement. Standing here among these books, the old family heirlooms, these beautiful flowers and loyal friends, and in this little humble cottage, surrounded by green trees and shrubs each planted by their mistress with a yearning and searching heart we feel the gentle impact of the spirit of her who only a few hours ago, was such a lively gracious influence in our lives.

She was a genius as rare as she was versatile. She is an exception to the rule that everyone’s place can be filled satisfactorily by some other person. There was only one ‘Susie Spindletop.’ Our beloved was an extremely keen intellect that brought meaning out of every phase of human activity. Nothing escaped her notice, and with her imagination awakened her literary paragraphs ran on endlessly and interestingly because they were as broad and as deep as life, itself.

We wonder if these treasured symbols can speak to our hearts as they spoke to our beloved. Among these books there walked a veritable host of literary minds that provided a congenial fellowship; these fragrant blossoms were messengers of peace and refreshment that called to mind the shady lanes and quiet places of childhood and youth; this humble cottage was a friendly home where acquaintances could meet and exchange ideas, without fear of misunderstanding and without criticism, and every bush that bloomed and every bird that sang around this home brought messages from the mysterious spaces of life.”

                                                                 Her Charities                                              

“Her heart had a tremendous capacity for affection. Not only was she at home with and an inspiration to every accomplished scholar she met, but she loved without stint the poorest, lowest creature on earth. Suffering and injustices aroused her deepest emotions, and upon the helpless she spent herself in affection, bringing help, and relief to untold numbers among the poor of the city.

Her spirit was as exquisite as old lace, and like old lace she was adaptable and fitted pleasantly into any environment. Hence she never complained, and often we marveled at her patience. She was the embodiment of gentility and had absorbed into her personality the nectar of fragrance from the roses of her own garden.

Yet there was a wistful element in her nature. She saw so much to do, so many distressed people to be helped, so many important events still unwritten, so many books yet unborn, one was immediately impressed with her yearning to work and help. We commend her to our heavenly father the source of all intellect, the prime mover of every human impulse, the inspiration of every noble deed, with the belief that in his hand, under his guidance, her yearning for completeness and goodness will be fulfilled. May the Lord bless her and keep her, and make his face to shine upon her and be gracious unto her.”

                                                        Miss Kent Plays                                                                  

At the close of his talk, which brought tears to many, he offered a prayer, and Miss Alice Kent, a friend of Miss Stratton, played the violin.

Tenderly her body was taken from the home she loved by a group of her friends. Acting as pallbearers were Ashley Weaver, Alfred Jones, Terry Duff, Sam Lipscomb, Norval McKee, Bernard Deufser and Frank Godsey, of Beaumont and her friend Watson Neyland, of Liberty. Employees of The Enterprise and Journal were honorary pallbearers.

The procession of cars from the home to Magnolia cemetery, escorted by motorcycle police, was more than a mile long. Silently as they left her under the blankets of flowers her newspaper people wrote “30,” their farewell.

Florence Stratton  March 21, 1881- January 28, 1938

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Until next time!

Madeline Kahn Tired:

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

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

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

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

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

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned the ongoing search for the location of what was a train stop or a “township” in Hardin County named after journalist Florence Stratton. I received some excellent historical details from a couple of folks at the Museum of Hardin County on the article that a friend and fellow researcher found on the completion of the Beaumont, Sour Lake, and Western Railway in 1907. It was assumed that the train stop was most likely in Liberty County, so our next plan was to reach out to a few friends there to see if they knew anything about the history of the railroad and its stops in the area.

Last Sunday, I was about to veg out from my recliner on yet another session of YouTube videos on the Battle of Midway when a ping on my phone alerted me that I had an email with the subject line “Florence Stratton.” It was my friend. While doing research on another subject, she saw a mention of a camp located on the Frisco Railroad near Florence Switch. The term “switch” is railroad speak, so we both began doing a search for railroad maps of Hardin County. Come to think of it, I had already searched for this before but had found nothing. This time it was different. When you type in “Texas railroad maps from 1908,” you get a lot of stuff that isn’t from that period. Some are close, but it doesn’t do me any good if the map is from 20 years before the township was founded or after it went kaput. Luckily, this time there was a link to a 1912 map for sale on some website. I’m sure it is a fine map and worth every penny of the price, but I noticed that you could enlarge the image and move to the region you wanted. Screenshot, send to paint, and voilà, we can see that the train stop along the Beaumont, Sour Lake, and Western Railway was on the border between Hardin and Liberty Counties.

Mystery solved, thanks to multiple people working together. And I appreciate every one of them! I guess I’ll have to eat crow and give kudos to Eunice, but that is all right with me. For those that don’t know, Eunice Stephens was Florence’s niece; she passed in January 1982. In her later years, she was interviewed and stated that Florence had a town named after her. According to my research, Florence in Williamson County, north of Austin, Texas, was founded in 1858, so this wasn’t it. I thought that Eunice was misinformed, but reading the article from 1907, I learned that R. C. Duff, the president of the railroad, definitely named this stop/township/switch after Florence. It wasn’t there for long, nor did it have a post office, but it was a thing. In the end, Eunice and I want the same thing. We want Florence’s history to live on.

One thing I’ve come to appreciate is the contribution of different groups of people, whether in the Jefferson County Historical Commission, Hardin County Historical Commission, Liberty County Historical Commission, Chambers County Historical Commission, or any other commission, as well as the role of independent researchers. This is the era of helping out regular people trying to find information about their history. No one has all the answers, but some of us may have a grain of knowledge to help you out in your search. I’m truly thankful for those who have helped me during my journey, and I am ready to reciprocate if possible.

I passed the Brisket Room this week, as I usually do every other week. The Brisket Room was our go-to place for chipped beef sandwiches. For those not in the know, the restaurant is gone nowadays, but the building is still there and has the sign out. I think it is a rental for parties and such. Unlike the loss of Monceaux’s, Hartman’s, and Pie Face from my Port Arthur foodie history, I still have Billy Joe’s Bar-B-Q in Port Neches to bring an epic chipped beef sandwich. Truth be told, I’ve also been enjoying the sausage links for over 40 years. It’s almost the 50th anniversary of Billy Joe’s existence, and I will say that the sauce should be labeled as a food group, just like Aunt Meg’s gravy! And if you don’t know this reference, you might want to watch that epic movie called Twister. I still miss Bill Paxton’s weather reports. He was the Extreme! He was also related to Sam Houston “somehow” and played him in the miniseries Texas Rising in 2015. Not to nitpick, but there were definitely a lot of mountain paths in what was meant to be Baytown, Texas, in that film.

This is an odd question, but I will bring it up all the same: Did we ever use the term “mixed tape” in the ‘80s? I think not, but my better half was watching Stranger Things, and someone mentioned that they made a mixed tape. I have many recordings on cassette from that time, and most were filled with music from the radio, but we never called them “mixed tapes.” What we did in 1982–83 was find a way to manipulate a walky-talky and a radio to broadcast like a radio station. The signal was weak but could be heard within a five-block radius. Of course, the music you would have heard was Rush, ACDC, or Iron Maiden, although I did have a double promotional record from Warner Brothers that I bought for two dollars at Ted’s Record Shop in Jefferson City. The only group I remember was the Whitford St. Holmes Band, and I can’t recall a single song it made. But kids do what they do, and we broadcast for mostly no one to hear our shenanigans. Well, there were a few followers and one adult, but she dug the music. Looking back, “Whiskey Woman” was a damn good song! There you go. Whitford St. Holmes Band. Rock on!

But I digress.

Until next week, you can “Exit Stage Left,” “Ride On,” or “Run to the Hills,” but think back and ask yourselves: Did we say “mixed tape”?

Texas Rising:  https://youtu.be/tUVRoQYHVAo

Aunt Megs Gravy:  https://youtube.com/clip/Ugkx1iNOUuVPlnXUFL0qZYT3YfZu0DQQlOgp

Whitford St. Holmes Band:  https://youtu.be/v0f_F9ZeW5k

Saturday was the day, and we were ready for the lineups, requirements to wear booties, and technology fails along the way – those who have taken the tour or volunteered for it know the struggles. After an early arrival by ferry, I was giddy in the knowledge that this year I wouldn’t have to take the ferry home only to drive back on Sunday, thanks to a friend’s Airbnb. I was impressed not just by the home’s 600 square feet of greatness, but by its driveway and location just two blocks from the seawall. Driveways are worth big money in Galveston County, but I digress.

Our first stop was my volunteer house for the day, the 1901 James and Mary Prindiville House. James Prindiville was a New Orleans native and plaster contractor. The Prindiville’s original home built on this site in 1898 was destroyed by the storm of 1900, and this home was built to replace it. While small, it is quite beautiful. Its open concept and easy access certainly make it a must-see.

Our next stop was meant to be the house pictured on the cover, the 1890 McKinney-McDonald House, but oh, the lines! We decided to put this jewel off until after lunch. So, it was onto the 1905 Edmund and Lorena Toebelman House. While it also had a line, the docents did a good job of moving visitors through quickly. Some features of note were the home’s gas lamps at the doorway (not original), the interior light fixtures, and the many original windows. Wavy glass is always a plus.

The 1920 City National Bank Building was to be our grand finale, but we decided to visit it early since we were in the area. When it was put on the tour in 2017 it was one of the ongoing restorations. There were few lines because who wants to see a work in progress? Well I do, and I took some photos – see the link below. They did an excellent job of restoring the bank and I was anxious to find out what it would be used for. After hearing it would become a rental residence, I had many questions. Who? What? Why? Okay, to each his own. Stay in my Airbnb! It’s a bank! It has a table long enough to have Vlad Putin meet with his enemies! Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful property, but there are some things you just don’t do. However, I digress. I’ll move on.

And move on we did, to the 1890 Julius Lobenstein Tenant Cottage. If there was ever a property to rent on this tour, this is it! It’s known as a speakeasy because of the tiny door inserted on the front door to peek out and ask, mob fashion, what’s the password? If you visit this house and they ask you for the password, just say Jabberwalky. It is actually a rental, and the shiplap boards on the walls are many different colors. At this point on the tour, this was my favorite. See the link below for its rental information.

The 1899 Charles and Estelle Miller House and the 1905 Joseph and Frances Gengler House were also must-sees, along with the 1906 Nathan and Mary Spence House. The restorations are superb, and the lineups were not that bad because of the docents moving us through. But we still had three houses left, and I knew the lineups at the cover house would be long.

After lunch at Shrimp and Stuff, we set out to the 1892 George Bendixen Corner Store and Residence – or, as I call it, the Wednesday Adams winter home, because of its black exterior. This was my favorite of the tour and a must-see. It’s for sale – I’ll have to look through my change drawer, but I doubt I have enough to purchase this jewel for $1.1 million. However, one can dream.

This was the first tour I’ve been on, and I had not yet had to wear booties, but the ninth and tenth houses ended my winning streak. The 1928 Joseph and Edith Eiband House was a treat to tour, even with booties on, and so was the 1890 McKinney-McDonald House, but it had really long lines, and booties were also required. At the time I went through it, it was understaffed, but this was not the docents’ fault. If you volunteer at one of these properties then you need to show up! This is not the first time I’ve seen this problem and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Hopefully, the rest of the tours of this beautiful gem will be better. I first toured it in 2012 when it was a restoration in progress. I am glad to see that it has been returned to its true beauty.

If you are out and about today, I hope to see you at the 1901 James and Mary Prindiville House. I may have a clipboard, and I am not afraid to use it, but I’m pretty lenient when it comes to fellow shiplap lovers.

Until next week!

1890 Julius Lobenstein Tenant Cottage.

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/39031320?source_impression_id=p3_1683430391_y4ZdZBnAwhzQkh7N

1920 City National Bank Building: Restoration in Progress
https://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/albums/72157683834011025

Galveston Historic Homes Tour:

Tour Homes : Galveston Historic Homes Tour

On Tuesday, I had the privilege of speaking to the Captain William Sanders chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution at the Port Arthur Library. I enjoyed the event, especially the interactions with those who were familiar with some of the people and history I brought up. Since most of the audience grew up in Port Arthur, we connected well. The interurban, Vuylsteke House, Rose Hill Manor, and the Pompeiian Villa were some of the Port Arthur portions of my talk. This is actually the reason why I began my website RediscoveringSETX.com.

In 2012, I started my adventure exploring regional history because I couldn’t find any information to tour local historic homes in Port Arthur. Hell, I didn’t even know about the Vuylsteke House or how to tour the Pompeiian Villa. Luckily, I knew someone who volunteered at the Museum of the Gulf Coast, and they provided me with a phone number to talk to someone with the keys to these houses—there was no information online back then. Update: I still don’t think there is information on these houses. If I’m wrong, reach out to the Museum of the Gulf Coast and Lamar Port Arthur because they hold the keys. Good luck and Godspeed if you’re interested in Rose Hill Manor, but if you want to see photos of it, I have many (follow the link below).

My interests branched out to other places in Jefferson County and eventually to all of SETX history. Truth be told, my favorite house to tour in SETX is the Chambers House Museum in Beaumont because the story of the Chambers family and their two daughters is priceless. Also, the place looks like some of your grandmother could afford to live there. If you haven’t toured this gem, you’re missing out.

Other unknown gems to visit in SETX would be the Lutcher Memorial Building in Orange, the Museum of Hardin County, and the T. J. Chambers House in Anahuac. There are many more, and I have photos and information about them on my Flickr account. Sorry, but you have to click on the link to see them. I think you might like what you see, but I’m biased—I love SETX history.

February is when I usually get my regular agenda in order, and that agenda would be the places I volunteer at or intend to visit. My volunteering schedule includes the first weekend of May at the Galveston Historic Homes Tour, but I may be at the Tall Ships Galveston Festival on April 13–16. I love tall ships, but I also love the battleship that’s currently in dry dock. I’ll get into that in a little bit.

My main focus is the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour in October. We will have some of our regulars on tour, but we will also have some new faces and new stories. One thing about the tour that some people don’t realize is that it’s a self-guided tour. We have presenters at stations ready to talk about their subject. Most of the time, it is either a descendant or someone who has researched the person and is waiting to tell you their history. I’m still amazed that we had ten presenters last year. This is because of our great people who love history and offer that of their families on our tours.

At my talk on Tuesday, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the young men and women of the Port Arthur Memorial High School’s Navy Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps (NJROTC), who did a great job presenting the colors for the meeting. I was even more impressed when I heard that they came eighth out of 1,578 teams in the National Academic Exam. I’ll add that the sandwiches at our meeting were excellent, and the red velvet cake was scrumptious. One cadet noted that the cookies from Market Basket were divine and even mentioned who made them. So, kudos to you, Market Basket!

While doing my scheduled events, I have been seeing people touring the USS Texas at the dry dock in Galveston for several weeks. I found out that the tours will end in late April, so if you read this on Sunday morning, you will undoubtedly see a few photos of me with the old girl. More photos will follow.

Until next time, I love the Old Hoodoo.

Rose Hill Manor:

https://flic.kr/s/aHsjLDk5Vn

Lutcher Memorial Building:

https://flic.kr/s/aHsjSofXFv

Hardin County Museum:

https://flic.kr/s/aHsjHq1MLe

Dear Della,

Susie died last night. That’s why her letter won’t be in its usual place in the Enterprise tomorrow morning. We thought you ought to know. Here at the office we’re all rather stunned. Susie belonged to both papers, you know. She gave about 35 years of her life to these papers, Susie did, and from the editor who read her copy to the boys upstairs who set it there’s a strange, hard reluctance to accept the fact that her desk over there in the corner is closed for good.

Susie was … well, call it a tradition. She had more sheer newspaper sense up in her little finger than we brash younger fry have in our collective brain. We used to ride her a lot. Kidding Susie was good fun­—because she was “old school.” Hers were standards of that first brave sortie of women into curt, intense business of journalism. And she clung to them to the last in spite of us. Underneath, we loved her for it. She knew that, thank goodness. Good old trail-blazer.

Della, just to look at Susie you’d never have guessed the enchanting glamour of her life, Quiet and self-effacing, Susie was, with a funny little habit of tidying her hair all the time. But she’d met presidents, interviewed princesses, attended the highest functions of Washington. Long-distance calls came to her from Harper’s Publishing company, from the New York Times, from senators. I never knew a woman could have so many contacts—important ones. I never knew a woman who could, even by virtue of long service to a specialized profession like journalism, find somebody she knew in every city of importance in the nation. I never went to Susie with a question and came away without an answer.

Bill Beaumont

Beaumont Journal January 29, 1938

Beaumont Enterprise January 31, 1938

Friends of Low and High Estate pay final respects to Miss Florence Stratton

-One, Only ‘Susie Spindletop’ Called Rare and Gracious Influence, Versatile Genius

Several hundred people, her friends in life, paid the last tribute yesterday afternoon to Susie Spindletop. Miss Florence Stratton, for more than 35 years a Beaumont newspaper woman, and one of the most beloved figures in the newspaper world of her Texas, was buried on a hillside in Magnolia cemetery following impressive services at her home on McFaddin avenue. Her grave was covered with flowers, great sprays of blossoms she dearly loved, and smaller offerings from friends representing every walk of life in her city.

Rev. George E. Cameron, rector of St. Mark’s Episcopal church, who conducted the rites at the residence and at the graveside, said of her that there was but one Susie Spindletop– one Florence Stratton, and that she was the exception to the rule that everyone’s place could be filled satisfactorily by someone else.

While he spoke there was hardly a dry eye. Every room on the lower floor was filled, while scores stood outside. Every old family of Beaumont was represented. In the throng were many of Beaumont’s most prominent figures in the world of business, its courts, and professions.

                                                             Associates Attended

Scattered among those attending, often in little groups with saddened, downcast faces, was almost every newspaper man and woman in the city, with many of the Fourth estate who had worked with her in years gone by.

During the services several red camellias lay on her stilled typewriter in the editorial room of the Enterprise, place there by some member of the staff.

Miss Stratton’s body lay in a gray casket in the quaint dining room of her home beneath the portrait of her beloved grandfather, the late Asa E. Stratton, Sr. The casket was covered with a gorgeous blanket of white carnations, the offering of The Enterprise company, to which Miss Stratton had been attached for about 18 years. Upon her breast was a small spray of lilies of the valley and violets, which were perhaps her favorite flowers.

                                                          Floral Memorials

The entire house –the one spot on earth she loved best –was filled with blossoms. They came from every section of Texas –Houston, San Antonio, Dallas –from New Orleans, Lake Charles and other cities of Louisiana, from Tulsa, from her beloved Brazoria County, her birthplace, and from as far away as Virginia. The floral offerings from distant points, however, were limited only by the fact that distant friends did not know of her sudden passing in New Orleans Friday night.

Near the casket stood an appealing floral piece made of Japanese magnolias, sent by Miss Stratton’s fellow workers of the Enterprise staff. There was another from the editorial staff of The Beaumont Journal and other employees of the newspaper, on which she was employed prior to that paper’s being taken over by The Enterprise in 1920.

There were also flowers from the typographical chapels of The Enterprise and Journal –the men who for years “set” the Sunday column known as “Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter,” and her garden features and others. Among the offerings were those from Mrs. Ruth Sergent of San Antonio, her close friend; Miss Matilda Gray of Lake Charles, and her nephew, Lieut. Ernest Stevens of the United States navy, stationed at Portsmouth, VA.

                                                          From Out of Town         

Among relatives and friends from out of the city were Mrs. Tom Stratton of Angleton, Mrs. Jessie Stratton of Angleton, Bryan Stratton of Houston, Mr. and Mrs. J. E. Burkhart, Jr., of Houston, Mrs. W. V. Ezell, her aunt, of Houston, and Miss Mary Masterson, Mrs. Edna Saunders, Underwood Nazro, Martin Miller and Jimmy Bonner of Houston.

There were several long-distance calls of condolence, as well as telegrams of those of her friends –and she numbered them from New York to San Francisco –in every part of the country.

Rev. Mr. Cameron opened the Episcopal service with a part of the 14th chapter of St. John –“Let not your heart be troubled.”

Then he spoke tenderly of Miss Stratton, telling of the unusual place she held in Beaumont and in Texas. He called special attention to her charities, all of which were little known to any save those who accidently found them out. He said that her spirit was as exquisite as old lace, and that “like old lace, she fitted into any environment.” He said that her heart had a tremendous capacity for affection.

                                                         “A Gracious Influence”                                           

His remarks follow:

“This hour is one of deepest bereavement. Standing here among these books, the old family heirlooms, these beautiful flowers and loyal friends, and in this little humble cottage, surrounded by green trees and shrubs each planted by their mistress with a yearning and searching heart we feel the gentle impact of the spirit of her who only a few hours ago, was such a lively gracious influence in our lives.

She was a genius as rare as she was versatile. She is an exception to the rule that everyone’s place can be filled satisfactorily by some other person. There was only one ‘Susie Spindletop.’ Our beloved was an extremely keen intellect that brought meaning out of every phase of human activity. Nothing escaped her notice, and with her imagination awakened her literary paragraphs ran on endlessly and interestingly because they were as broad and as deep as life, itself.

We wonder if these treasured symbols can speak to our hearts as they spoke to our beloved. Among these books there walked a veritable host of literary minds that provided a congenial fellowship; these fragrant blossoms were messengers of peace and refreshment that called to mind the shady lanes and quiet places of childhood and youth; this humble cottage was a friendly home where acquaintances could meet and exchange ideas, without fear of misunderstanding and without criticism, and every bush that bloomed and every bird that sang around this home brought messages from the mysterious spaces of life.”

                                                                 Her Charities                                               

“Her heart had a tremendous capacity for affection. Not only was she at home with and an inspiration to every accomplished scholar she met, but she loved without stint the poorest, lowest creature on earth. Suffering and injustices aroused her deepest emotions, and upon the helpless she spent herself in affection, bringing help, and relief to untold numbers among the poor of the city.

Her spirit was as exquisite as old lace, and like old lace she was adaptable and fitted pleasantly into any environment. Hence she never complained, and often we marveled at her patience. She was the embodiment of gentility and had absorbed into her personality the nectar of fragrance from the roses of her own garden.

Yet there was a wistful element in her nature. She saw so much to do, so many distressed people to be helped, so many important events still unwritten, so many books yet unborn, one was immediately impressed with her yearning to work and help. We commend her to our heavenly father the source of all intellect, the prime mover of every human impulse, the inspiration of every noble deed, with the belief that in his hand, under his guidance, her yearning for completeness and goodness will be fulfilled. May the Lord bless her and keep her, and make his face to shine upon her and be gracious unto her.”

                                                        Miss Kent Plays                                                                   

At the close of his talk, which brought tears to many, he offered a prayer, and Miss Alice Kent, a friend of Miss Stratton, played the violin.

Tenderly her body was taken from the home she loved by a group of her friends. Acting as pallbearers were Ashley Weaver, Alfred Jones, Terry Duff, Sam Lipscomb, Norval McKee, Bernard Deufser and Frank Godsey, of Beaumont and her friend Watson Neyland, of Liberty. Employees of The Enterprise and Journal were honorary pallbearers.

The procession of cars from the home to Magnolia cemetery, escorted by motorcycle police, was more than a mile long. Silently as they left her under the blankets of flowers her newspaper people wrote “30,” their farewell.

Florence Stratton  March 21, 1881- January 28, 1938