Tag Archives: #SETX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Danke schoen. Until next week!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up:

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

Maggies Drawers:

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

S.O.S Recipe:

S.O.S.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remembering Roy:

Remembering Roy

Life in Jefferson County During World War II:

Life in Jefferson County during World War II

Living in Beauxart Gardens in the 1930s:

Living in Beauxart Gardens in the 1930’s

Rediscovering Anahuac / Wallisville:

Rediscovering Anahuac / Wallisville

Thoughts and Ramblings: Texaco History with Elton Gish; Talking Port Arthur in H-E-B; Sarah Bringing Out My Tora (Triggered); a Few Words on Florence

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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…

                                       Bill Beaumont

Beaumont Journal January 29, 1938

Elton Gish—Texaco History:

https://www.texacohistory.com/

Martha ‘Toodlums’ Ferguson:

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/1498881_499869243458550_1847275268_o.jpg

U.S.S. Bowfin; https://www.bowfin.org

Tora! Tora! Tora! The Movie:

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066473/

Tribute to Florence Stratton:

Tribute to Florence Stratton

Thoughts and Ramblings: I Miss Mr. Heat Miser; The Seagull; Ronald, Texas; Preserving the Legacy of W. T. Block Jr; Remembering Roy; Red Cross Armband; Don’t Ever Mess With My Bananas!

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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.

Don’t ever mess with my bananas!

The Seagull -Port Arthur High School Yearbook 1918: 

https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth139825/

W.T. Block website

http://www.wtblock.com/

To Purchase His Books:

https://www.amazon.com/stores/W.-T.-Block/author/B001JS50ES?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Listen Closely Podcast:

https://www.facebook.com/HTTLISTENCLOSELY

Old News:  

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61555333351969

Tribute to Roy:  

https://www.rediscoveringsetx.com/2012/07/24/remembering-roy/

Museum of Hardin County:  

https://www.facebook.com/MuseumHardinCounty

Thoughts and Ramblings: New Year, New Plan

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The New Year is a time when some people try to change their lives for the better. Some try to get fit, while others focus on getting their life in order. Here, under the oaks on Ye Olde Block Formosan Farm, we think it’s time to revisit some of what we collected over the past twelve years. We also think that some of our treasures need a good home, so those items will be sent to a better place as we see fit. Stay tuned.

Last week, we sent a few Beaumont directories (1978–1984) to the Tyrrell Historical Library for safekeeping. This was a no-brainer, but I do have some small collections that may not fit on a larger scale. A few years back, I did a few estate sales. Shout-out to Ready, Set, Sell Estate Sales (thanks Heather!). We found a lot of interesting things that should be preserved in SETX history. One in particular was the Norma Davis World War II scrapbook. This is where I found out about Taro Kishi penning an article in the Beaumont Enterprise about wanting to serve his country. As he was Japanese American in the 1940s, there was definitely a problem with this for the powers that be, and he was denied the chance to serve. Eventually, the 442nd Regimental Combat Team was formed with Japanese Americans, but unfortunately without Taro, and it fought in the Italian campaign. They fought proud and true. Their motto was Go for Broke!, and they did!

I also learned about Kichimatsu Kishi, whom I put on the pedestal of those who had many successes and failures in life; he was the one with the most common sense. Kichimatsu and his family lived as American citizens, but after Pearl Harbor, he knew that anti-Japanese sentiment would peak. So, that Monday, he turned himself in to the FBI in Port Arthur. I guess that’s what you do when you have no idea what just happened, but you know how people will react. He spent two months in an internment camp but was released after his hearing because, according to his son Taro, he answered all the questions correctly.

One of the questions the authorities asked Kichimatsu was the following: “If the Emperor ordered you to bomb the oil refinery in Port Arthur, would you do it?”

Kichimatsu replied thus: “First, I am a farmer and businessman and know nothing about explosives. Suppose I was adopted into another family and my biological parent ordered me to harm my adopted family. I could not do so.”

He was a better man than me—I hate politicians at all levels—but he had no choice except to participate in their dog and pony show. It backfired, though, and it made way for the family to return to normality.

Another treasure I found at an estate sale was an almost complete collection of World War II Time Life Books. I have twenty-seven of the thirty-nine that were published. I think that was the total of the series.

Speaking of books, we have acquired many regional SETX history books over the years. I really don’t want to add up how much we spent on purchasing these treasures, but some of the money went to local museums. A few favorites we purchased locally were the Centennial History books from Port Arthur and Nederland, a few pictorial-history books from Hardin County, and some from Chambers County. There are many others that need to be cataloged and listed for their preservation.

Of course, we took the eBay route on a couple of occasions and visited a few bookstores. Some of these were local. All five Florence Stratton books were purchased online, along with the great find of the original edition of The White Plume in the Bunker’s Monthly magazine, published in 1928. I will also admit that an autographed Arthur Stilwell book was purchased by accident. You know the scenario. You were shopping online, and it was left in the cart, but then a month later you wanted to purchase Willie Cooper Hobby’s memorial book, which you had only seen at the LBJ library and in Woodville. Yes, the Arthur Stilwell book is autographed, but as most of you know, I’m not a fan of Mr. All Hat and No Cattle. Truth be told, I have a few other books written by him, and they are of little use to me in researching history.

My Beaumont books are many—the Walker sisters (Judy and Ellen), their father (John H. Walker), and a copy of the 1939 American Guide Series book for Beaumont. Thanks to a friend, I also have an American Guide Series book for Port Arthur from 1940. All these volumes offer a wealth of information, and they are an inspiration for me.

A couple of prized possessions from 1946 and 1947 are two phone books from Port Arthur, which were given to me by my late friend Jerry Burnett. Last week, on our Facebook page, there were many people who wanted to prank call their ancestors. Before you dial, just remember Yukon!

As I dig deeper into my collection, I see the Betty Maggio Port Arthur Collection (1979). It states “fine art for correspondence” on the stationary, and I believe this is magnificent art! I have a couple of buttons from the Amalgamated Association of Street and Electrical Railway Employees, Division 241 May 1918 and Division 1031 February 1936. I also have a Beaumont City bus token that was given to me by Beaumont History Bits. I’ll have to ask the mayor, Roy West, whether it is still valid.

I could go on and on about these treasures, and I will throughout the year. Today, though, I will end with one that was given to me by a family friend, Millie Rougeau, a few years back. She was the oral-history source for my article “Life in Jefferson County during World War II,” which was published in May 2013. Millie gave me her family’s World War II ration book, with stamps. I’ve posted a few photos of it through the years. She passed in 2023, and I thank her for trusting me with this treasure. I will find it a home.

Audio and video recordings of family and friends (oral histories) are a hell of a lot better than photos because you can still hear people’s voices.

Until next week.

Life in Jefferson County during World War II

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

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Martha Mack

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

Florence Stratton 1907

Florence Stratton

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

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

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

Martha Mack

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

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

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

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

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

Jeanette Catherina Stengele

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

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

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

Until next week, Remember!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catherina Stengele Mausoleum

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

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

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

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

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

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Don Smart presenting Ras Landry.

Overall, the show was good, but when I arrived at 10:50 a.m., I discovered that they had shut the gates 30 minutes early, and walking among the planes that participated in the show was no longer possible. There was no access to the bombers or the Tora planes. This year, the jump team got to jump, which was nice, but I would have rather had access to the planes. Around noon, the Big Ugly (a B-52 bomber) showed up to do its flyby. This was more or less when the solar eclipse was at its fullest. I didn’t get any photos of the solar eclipse for two reasons. First, I didn’t care; second, putting those glasses over a camera, or even a phone camera, was a chore I wasn’t willing to do. I have many photos of the lunar eclipse, which you can check out at the links below.  For a solar eclipse, you can try the following trick. Stand under a tree and behold all the crescent suns on the grass or the pavement. Through the tree’s filtered light, you will be able to see the eclipse without the pain of staring at the sky and going blind. Heads-up: there will be another solar eclipse in 2024.

The wind and the cool temperature were great for us sightseers, though not so much for the pilots. The Tora show went ahead without a hitch. They know what to do, and the Pyro Crew is always competent in creating an explosive side for the show. This is the reason I attend. The B-25 Mitchell bomber Yellow Rose flew as a B-17 trying to land during the Pearl Harbor attack. I thought that the B-17G Yankee Lady wasn’t going to fly in this fantastic reenactment, which kind of looks like a free-for-all of World War II planes gone wild. By the way, glad to see the P-40 showed up this year! Another treat was when the B-25 Mitchell bomber Doolittle Raiders flew after the Tora show. They added the story of the Doolittle Raiders taking off on the USS Hornet in early 1942 to bomb Tokyo.

The Yankee Lady did fly, along with the C-47 That’s All Brother and the B-25 Devil Dog. I’m glad that they just let the bombers fly by themselves and did not have another parade of smaller planes flying at the same time, as was the case last year. I’m no expert in aviation safety, but I do have the common sense to know that you shouldn’t put two shows on at once. Last year in Dallas we found out that doing so is a bad idea!

I have a few issues with the airshow, but I’ll keep them to an “If you were there to hear it.” Weekend warriors on their phones with no clue and locked gates in the parking lot—I digress. It’s all good. The FBI hasn’t reached out yet; I’m just saying. Next year I’ll show up at the break of dawn, so I won’t have to deal with petty BS.

The third annual Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour was this week, and I want to thank all who were involved in the planning and the research for it, as well as the grounds crew. You made this event a success and did an excellent job! For those of you who attended, I hope you had a great time. When you think back on your experience, you can thumb through the free program you received when you signed in. Kudos to those knowledgeable volunteers who actually put this together. Technology nerds rock!

Speaking of technology and someone who is a rock in the community, Lynn Simon was supposed to explain the history of Woodson Pipkin and the Pipkin School but was unable to attend on Saturday, so he made a mini documentary. He included not only Reverend Pipkin and the school but also a few people who are interred in the Pipkin area of the cemetery. A mini cemetery tour, if you will. Lynn is a wiz at this kind of thing and did a superb job in creating another way to get history out to the masses. Those who know Mr. Simon will agree that he has a wealth of knowledge and helps on serveral projects in the community.

JCHC member Bruce Hamilton manning the golf cart.

I continuously learn new things about Magnolia Cemetery as well as other cemeteries in Jefferson County and adjacent counties. I will not get into the spooky side of things this week, but I will say that I was told some stories and have found a few articles about hauntings, gypsies, and things going bump in the night when you least expect it. That’ll be for next week.

Until then, Catherina was Dutch!

Tot volgende week!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Photo Credit: Rivers Fulton, Fans of Wings Over Houston Airshow

Cemetery tours and ghost tours present pretty much the same thing, but they have different aspects. They both talk about history, which some ghost hunters hate, but you cannot separate the two. Without referring to history, you can’t talk about someone or something haunting your trailer in Deweyville, can you? The Blackshirts/weather people rely on SB-7 Spirit Boxes to communicate with the dead (not talking about anyone specific from this area—cough!). Do they work? I have no idea.

An SB-7 is supposed to work like a broken radio. You ask it questions while it turns the radio dial. Some say that you will hear answers from departed folk in the white noise. I have one, and it has never worked. I know a few people who think it works, and that’s okay, but the aggressiveness these people show when you call them out is hilarious. I’m not saying that you didn’t hear an Indian say “ugh” in a trailer in Deweyville, but the electronic voice phenomenon you put on your YouTube channel (which has since disappeared) was about as legit as that time when the Ghost Adventures show—I digress. Do what you want, just don’t charge people $50 to “educate” them on your BS.

As ridiculous as a broken radio thingy sounds, I can take it even further. This time, I can only chastise myself for this ridiculousness. Years ago, I downloaded an app on my phone called Ghost Radar. There is a free version and a paid version. I think I paid $4.99 for it. I don’t know how it is supposed to work, but here is the description:

“Ghost Radar® is the original application designed to detect paranormal activity. Ghost Radar® attempts to detect paranormal activity by making various readings on the device. Traditional paranormal equipment can be easily fooled when simple mundane bursts of normal energy occur. Ghost Radar® sets itself apart by analyzing the readings and giving indications only when interesting patterns in the readings have been made.”

Scientifically, this is impossible, but even a broken clock is correct twice daily. I’ve used it in my home, and when I go to the cemetery, I get nothing 90% of the time, but there is that 10% that I can’t explain. Like that time when I was on the hill at the cemetery, and the app began its usual spouting of words that do not make any sense together. I was alone and not really paying attention to the area in front of the cemetery. Then it started throwing out words such as “animals, front, danger.” Yes, that will get your attention. I poked my head out toward the front of the cemetery and saw nothing. I will also say that I was near Police Chief Reid Tevis’s headstone when this occurred. Was Reid still on watch that day? Probably not, but it did make sense to check my surroundings. Reid Tevis is yet another story on the hill during the cemetery tour—no ghost talk, just history and greatness. I’ll leave a link below.

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

Another episode took place when I was near Sheriff Thomas Langham’s grave. The app emitted just one word: “run.” I laughed then, and I still laugh today. Nothing was going on, but if Thomas Langham had a sense of humor, I might have experienced it. I have other stories, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell them. (Some people don’t like other people knowing that their house is haunted.) I’ll get back to you.

Next week, it’s time to Niitakayama nobore 新高山登る一二○八 (climb Mount Niitaka) at Wings over Houston at Ellington Field. Not seeing the Texas Raiders B-17 Flying Fortress will be rough. Her participation in the Tora show always added a special touch to the reenactment of the history of the Pearl Harbor attack. That big bomber flies in from the mainland, weaponless and out of fuel, and tries to land during a full-scale attack. The iconic movie Tora! Tora! Tora! which the show was born out of, is the longest continuously performing nonmilitary airshow act in the United States. Most of the planes flying in the reenactment were designed for and flew in that movie.

This blog comes out on Sunday, October 8. So, today, the Montgomery County Veterans Memorial (MCVM) Park will be hosting members of the Commemorative Air Force. They will honor the B-17 Texas Raiders that was lost last year; they will also unveil the MCVM Park’s newest monument. The events will be live streamed on the park’s Facebook page. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of this blog.

Last week, I added my most read blog of all time, “The Legend of Sarah Jane Road.” I believe my second most read blog needs love too. “The Legend of Bragg Road” was a paranormal investigation of sorts. It was the ’80s, and we didn’t have any fancy gadgets or black shirts. Common sense was the next best thing, together with a paperback edition of ESP, Hauntings and Poltergeists: A Parapsychologist’s Handbook by Loyd Auerbach.

Until next week.

Legend of Bragg Road

My last venture into the spooky realm might have been eerie, but Bragg Road has always been much more so, mainly because I have seen the light, so to speak. In the late 80s, a few friends and I frequented the sandy eight-mile road, which runs between Highways FM 787 and FM 1293 near the town of Saratoga.

Located in the heart of the Big Thicket, one could definitely lose oneself in the pitch blackness of the forest. Except for the single light that mysteriously shines on occasion. But what is this all about? Let’s delve into the history of this lonely road.

In 1902 the Santa Fe railroad cut a line through the dense thicket between Saratoga and Bragg. These tracks were needed for hauling oil from the Saratoga oilfields, along with logs and cattle. For a long time, just one trip per day to Beaumont and back seemed to be enough to progress this wilderness into civilization. However, perhaps inevitably, the wilderness won and the city of Bragg is all but forgotten.

In 1934, the tracks were removed leaving behind a sandy road, which was used mostly by hunters who inadvertently kept the thicket from reclaiming it. It was around this time that some began seeing a strange light. (Note: In the book Tales from the Big Thicket by Francis E. Abernethy, there was one sighting of the light even before the tracks were removed.)

So what is behind this strange light that has been seen for nearly 80-plus years? The foremost story is that a railroad man was decapitated in a train wreck, so now he holds a lantern high while he looks for his head.

Other explanations include the Mexican cemetery where a foreman, rather than pay his road crew, killed them and kept the money. They were swiftly buried. Now their restless spirits haunt the road.

Whatever the source, there is a light on that darkened stretch. Skeptics will tell you that it is a reflection from car lights, but that would not explain the earlier sightings when there were few cars traveling down or near the road. Furthermore the old Model T’s headlights wouldn’t have shined brightly enough.

Another possibility is swamp gas. I could entertain this theory because of an investigation I was a part of 25 years ago.

In the late 80s, I made numerous trips to Bragg Road. The first was a day trip, and my friends Bryan and Hector tagged along. I only mention this because, after unsuccessfully identifying the road, we stopped at a store in Saratoga where Hector asked a lady where Bragg Road was. She explained to him how to get there and asked why we were looking for it. Without pause Hector explained we were going to a friend’s house that was located on the road. The woman grinned and wished us well. We did find the road and traveled down all eight miles never seeing a house or any sign of life. We had a good laugh over this.

My second trip down Bragg Road was a night-time journey done solo, but I saw nothing, only the blackness of the thicket. Fortunately my next jaunt into the forest did pay off. A few friends and I did see the light. It looked like an oncoming train if you were standing on the tracks. Try as we may, we could never get close to it. The light would flicker and then disappear.

On one occasion Paul Newman and I (Note: Not the actor turned racecar driver turned salad-dressing king) did an investigation to find out just what the light was. We started by removing all evidence of tire tracks at the entrance to the sandy road, followed by all three turnarounds. We figured that if we saw a light then we would have some idea if it was from a vehicle traveling down the road or something else.

As the night progressed, we saw the light several times, but only one vehicle, other than ours, passed down the road. We checked each turnaround and found only one set of tracks. Our investigation ended without a clear answer as to the cause of the light, or if it was indeed paranormal. We did conclude however that the light, at the very least, was not from a vehicle.

Usually when I go down that road, I see the light, except on full moonlit nights. Although the light seems to be far off, I have talked to people who know people who have seen the light close up, but sadly I have never personally met anyone who has done so, nor have I been privileged to witness it in close proximity. So please take the last statement as is.

So if you’re ever along FM 787 or FM 1293 and want a thrill, just turn onto that dark sandy road. You may just see that ghostly train headlight coming toward you. And what a sight it will be.

Niitakayama nobore 新高山登る一二○八:

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

Montgomery County Veterans Memorial (MCVM) Park:

https://www.facebook.com/honoredmission

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

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