Bayou City History -- Houston

Moving history

2007-06-06T14:45:00.000-04:00

OK, here's the scoop. BCH has moved to chron.com.

Why? Well, head on over to the new BCH and find out!

Houston during the Civil War

2007-05-30T16:39:00.000-04:00

I've put a link to a file on my personal Web site that briefly summarizes how Houston fared during the Civil War.

The one-page document, which comes from a city directory published just after the war, doesn't go into much detail. In essence, it says the city was doing pretty well until the war started. Once fighting began, Houston didn't suffer as much as other Southern cities, but much of the city's growth was stunted. As the war came to a close, residents seemed eager to resume development.

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A few days back, BCH logged its 10,000th visit. Since I've returned to Houston, site visits have increased month after month. Not bad for a little blog detailing Houston's past! Thanks to everyone who keeps checking in. Your comments/suggestions are always welcome.

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In other news, expect some changes around here early next month. Watch this space.

A stop to street-spitting

2007-05-22T14:15:00.000-04:00

People who spit on the street kill more people than criminals who walk the streets, according to Dr. P. H. Scardino, Houston's health officer.

In a statement released Dec. 12, 1917, Scardino was concerned about tuberculosis, which is spread through the air from one person to another. According to the CDC, the bacteria are put into the air when a person with active TB disease of the lungs or throat coughs or sneezes. People nearby may breathe in these bacteria and become infected.

Scardino was particularly concerned about spreading the disease through spitting. He was especially critical of Houston police officers, as well.

"One thing that stands out strongly in the city of Houston is the promiscuous spitting on the sidewalks, and I say it to the shame of our police officers that I have often seen them do this themselves and absolutely make no effort to prevent others from doing so," Scardino said, as reported in the Houston Post.

Scardino even placed a priority on catching those who should spit on the sidewalks.

"I personally feel that it would be far better for the police officers to prevent people from spitting on sidewalks, street cars and in other public places than to catch a burglar or common criminal, for the man who spits on the sidewalks and in other public places eventually kills more people by the transmission of the disease than all the criminals of the world combined have ever killed," he said.

Scardino's said that because it was winter more people would likely suffer from colds and other ailments. Therefore, immediate care was recommended to prevent something like tuberculosis from becoming an epidemic.

Check your attic...again

2007-05-20T11:33:00.000-04:00

Sunday's Chronicle has a story about renovation work going on at the 1910 Harris County Courthouse. The $65 million restoration will take three years. The courthouse is slated to reopen Nov. 15, 2010 — 100 years after it first opened.

The county isn't sure what the interior looked like prior to the building's renovation in 1954. Anyone with photos or recollections of the interior prior to that year can contact Dan Reissig, special projects manager in the county's architectural and engineering division, at 713-755-5370 or dreissig@pid.hctx.net.

Houston History Mystery VI: The case of the missing trophy

2007-05-16T22:36:00.000-04:00

This is more of a Texas mystery, but this does have a small Houston connection.

In early May 1898, the Hernsheim Trophy went on display at Brown & Wolf on Main Street. The trophy pictured here was awarded to the 1897 Texas League pennant winners.

I contacted Bill O'Neal, noted author of a number of books on Texas and the West, including a book on the Texas League. He was unaware of the trophy and its whereabouts.

I'm not even sure who Hernsheim was.

I'm tempted to believe the trophy is lost.

Taking a tumble

2007-05-14T14:27:00.000-04:00

The April 25, 1850, edition of The Democratic Telegraph and Texas Register mentions a tumble Judge Wheeler took off the second story of "the old City Hotel."

(Newspapers back then were notorious for not publishing first names. This could be a reference to Texas Chief Justice Royal T. Wheeler, but I'm not so sure.)

On April 16, Wheeler was attending a meeting of the Sons of Temperance at their room on the hotel's third floor.

"On descending to the second story, he walked out upon the piazza, supposing he was on the sidewalk a story below, and there being no railing he inadvertently walked off, falling about ten feet upon the pavement."

Suffering only a few bruises, Wheeler was able to take a boat to return to his family in Galveston.

The paper noted it was the third such accident at the hotel, "owing to the culpable negligence of the owners of the building to construct a railing along the piazza."

Then came the punchline:

"It is perhaps fortunate that the Sons of Temperance occupy the upper room, for if the devotees of intemperance were accustomed to meet there, the accidents of this kind might have occurred much more frequently."

The paper went on to mention another man that fell while trying to get a drink at the hotel.

"Jumping up, he cast an angry glance...cursed the high steps, and coolly walked over to get his glass of bitters."

Opening night at the Alabama

2007-05-10T16:27:00.000-04:00

Since the Alabama Theater has been in the news lately, I figured now is a great time to take a look at when it opened. I did a similar write-up on the opening of the River Oaks Theater that you can check out here.

The Alabama Theater opened Nov. 2, 1939, to some fanfare that included fireworks, city leaders and the Elkadettes.

While River Oaks leaders touted their theater as being "Houston's safest neighborhood theatre," the Alabama was advertised as having free parking, ticket prices ranging from 10 to 25 cents, and a Popeye Club for kids on Saturday morning at 9 a.m.

The theater opened with the the 1939 film "Man About Town," starring Jack Benny and Dorothy Lamour.

"The brightly-clad Elkadettes, girls drum and bugle corps sponsored by the Elks Club, furnished music for the occasion and the fireworks and giant searchlights gave the festivities the atmosphere of a Hollywood premiere," the Houston Post wrote.

Mayor Oscar F. Holcombe and County Judge Roy Hofheinz attended opening ceremonies. Others on hand included representatives from the major motion picture studios of the time.

Among the theater's features:

Extra-wide seats cushioned in the new bubble-foam sponge rubber

Broadloom carpeting on the floors

An 86-foot neon sign

New developments on the River Oaks shopping center can be found over at Houstonist.

Check your attic

2007-05-09T02:30:00.000-04:00

Do you have any photos or memorabilia pertaining to Glenwood Cemetery?

If so, the Glenwood Cemetery Historic Preservation Foundation might want to have a word with you.

The foundation recently commissioned a book on the history of Houston's historic cemetery. An author has already been chosen and the book is expected to be published by fall 2008.

"We are seeking historic photographs, diaries, letters, programs, catalogues, deeds, maps, receipts, documents and ANY other memorabilia that depict or mention Glenwood Cemetery and its grounds, monuments and statuary, including sculptors, architects and landscape architects whose work is represented here," according to a foundation e-mail recently forwarded to me by Houston Arts and Media.

For more information, contact the cemetery at 713-864-7886.

A hanging in Waller County

2007-05-06T03:22:00.000-04:00

The May 1, 1897, edition of the Houston Post pieced together reports of a hanging that occurred in Waller County, just outside Sunny Side.

"Dangling from the limbs of a large oak tree are the bodies of six negroes, limp and lifeless," the Post reported. "The scene of this horrible picture is one mile north of Sunnyside and sixteen miles from here."

The article goes in detail to describe the location of the tree. Who knows if it still exists?

"The large tree is on the public road from Sunnyside to Pattison and for years to come this tree will be pointed by passersby as a tree with the records of having held at one and the same time the bodies of six men executed by popular fury, commonly called 'Judge Lynch.'"

Of the six that were hanged, four were brothers and three were teenagers.

They were:
Fayette Rhoan, 21
Will Gates, 35
Louis Thomas, 20
Aaron Thomas, 13
Jim Thomas, 14
Benny Thomas, 15

The six were suspected in the death of Henry Daniels, his stepdaughter Marie Daniels, and a 7-year-old child.

So what led up to the killings?

On April 28, Daniels' Waller County home was burglarized. "Marie Daniels and the 7-year-old child were ravished and old man Daniels clubbed to death, trying to protect those in his charge."

The Post said the child was thrown into a well. Authorities noted her skull had been smashed. The other two were left in a house that was set on fire.

Local authorities, with the help of "bloodhounds from Steele's plantation" helped in finding the Thomas brothers.

The brothers confessed, the article reported, and they implicated others that were believed to be involved in the crime. The men were being held to await an examining trial, but a mob surprised the officers and took the men to the oak tree. A seventh person, Willie Williams, was also taken by the mob, but his whereabouts were unknown.

"As far as can be learned, the mob was composed of white and black men, with the colored element largely predominating.

"Tonight, there is calm after the storm and public opinion is almost universal that if the right parties were apprehended no harm was done."

Apparently, the suspects had previously known Daniels; it did not appear to be a random crime.

The Post said that a Brenham man had been robbed months earlier of $65 (about $1518 in today's dollars). Of that, $30 ($700) was given to Henry Daniels.

"Daniels spent the money, and on Sunday evening last the four Thomas
boys, according to their confessions yesterday, decided to either collect their $30 or kill Daniels."

Word of what had happened in Waller County made its way to Houston by passenger train. Many of the passengers said there had been a great deal of commotion in Hempstead over the hanging.

The article concluded:

"The white citizens of Hempstead, it is said, are upholding the negroes who did the hanging."

Wild over wireless

2007-05-05T03:50:00.000-04:00

You'd think the above Houston Press headline is about the city's plan to install a city-wide Wi-Fi network, eh?

Ending out Radio Week here at BCH is a new blog on Houston radio history called, well, Houston Radio History. The last few entries have seen some interesting posts on the early days of radio from before WWII. Check it out when you get the chance.

A chat with an author

2007-05-01T02:26:00.000-04:00

Christopher Varela informs me that more copies of his book, "Kotton, Port, Rail Center: A History of Early Radio in Houston" is available for purchase.

Anyone wanting a copy can send $21 to:

Christopher Varela
P.O. Box 12810
Houston, TX 77217-2810

Copies are also available the city's visitors center inside City Hall for $16.95. For questions, contact Varela at cvarela2@juno.com.

"Kotton, Port, Rail Center" mostly covers Houston's broadcasting history from the prewar period of WWI to the formation of KPRC and KTRH and other AM stations. Much detail -- most of it available in a book for the first time -- is given to those early amateur radio enthusiasts who helped shape local broadcasting as we know it.

I recently posed some questions for Varela based on his book:

Q: How did you get the idea for a book on Houston's early radio history?

A: I got the idea for the book back in the mid-1990s when I had a conversation with a co-worker who is an amateur radio operator and a historian on radio broadcasting in Houston. I chose to condense my book to the "antique age" of broadcasting before 1930 because I felt that it would be a forgotten part of history and few historians would be interested in documenting it.

Q: What was the most surprising thing you discovered?

A: One of the things that surprised me was the distance these amateur radio operators and first broadcasting stations were reaching. Family legend has it that William John Uhalt of New Orleans, and who would later install station KTUE in Houston, was receiving the faint distress SOS signals from the Titanic as she was sinking some hundreds of miles away in April of 1912. Other Houston amateurs were reaching Europe and the Hawaiian Islands. Given good, atmospheric conditions, Houston's first broadcasting stations could be heard around the nation and into Latin America and Canada. No wonder broadcasting was viewed as an excellent attention getting gimmick at the time. I was also surprised how intimately related radio technology was to television. Without radio, there would be no television and some of pioneer radio broadcasters would go on to invent television. Radio stations KPRC, KTRH and KXYZ of Houston had some of the city's first television licenses. But only KPRC-TV (Channel 2) would realize this next evolutionary step of radio technology.

Q: Your book mentions Howard Hughes' involvement in amateur radio. Was he particularly instrumental to the history of radio in Houston?

A: Howard Hughes had little direct influence to Houston's broadcasting movement. But as an amateur radio operator during the late 1910s, he had the finest radio equipment with an ever-supporting father. Being the fact that he would go on to become a famed 20th century figure, the stories I have in my book of his amateur radio hobby in Houston just add more texture to the history. In 1920, Hughes' father would donate a radio set to the Rice University for its budding amateur radio activity. From this, Rice University's broadcasting station WRAA would briefly sign on in 1923.

Q: Local radio pioneers like Clifford Vick, Jimmie Autry and Will Horwitz have largely been forgotten when discussing Houston history. Is it safe to say Vick and Horwitz were local celebrities in their time?

A: Yes, these broadcasting pioneers were hailed as local heroes during the 1920s. Even as an amateur radio operator, Clifford Vick was recognized as a hero by the Houston Chronicle when he reported up-to-date information on a hurricane which struck the lower Texas gulf coast in 1919. These radiomen introduced an exciting new medium to the Houston public. I would equate their popularity to that of a star athlete or other prominent figure.

Q: I was surprised to learn how much the local business community became involved in radio just after WWI. There were licenses issued for the Houston Chronicle (WFAL), the Houston Post (WEAY) and the Levy Brothers Dry Goods company (WPAN). It sort of seems like the mid-1990s when every business tried to set up its own Web site.

A: Back in the early 1920s, the sole purpose one would establish a broadcasting station was to "advertise" an agenda, whether it be to sell radio sets, air an event from one's venue, or bring one's radio knowledge to light. As you have stated before, it is reminiscent of the World Wide Web craze we have now where one sets up a website to bring ideas to public domain.

Q: In general, how did Houstonians react to those early days of broadcasting?

A: Houstonians reacted to broadcasting with extreme acceptance. To have a radio receiving set in the 1920s would be like having the best HDTV today with a state-of-the-art stereo system connected. As you can see in my book, newspapers, the general public, musicians, public figures, entertainers and the hotel industry gravitated to broadcasting.

Q: Anything else you are working on?

A: I am currently not working on anything concrete. Just ideas that I am developing. Like you, I am looking for stories of Houston's past that have been forgotten or overlooked.

70 years ago

2007-04-30T02:27:00.000-04:00

This is the Houston Post radio guide from April 28, 1937.

Houston's safest neighborhood theatre

2007-04-25T02:35:00.000-04:00

With today's news that the city will move to designate the River Oaks Shopping Center, the River Oaks Theatre and the Alabama Bookstop as city landmarks, now would be a good time to roll out some information on when the theater opened.

The movie house opened on Nov. 28, 1939, with the Oscar-nominated "Bachelor Mother," starring David Niven, as the first film to be shown at the theater.

About half a page of ads in that day's Houston Post offered congratulations and best wishes to the theater and its operators. One business, Monarch Cleaners on Shepherd Drive, offered all-night service and allowed theater patrons to drop off or pick up their clothes anytime after the show.

The advertisement above described the River Oaks theater as "Houston's newest and safest neighborhood theatre."

The theater's operators promised:

"Pictures shown at the River Oaks will be carefully selected from the lists of all producers for good taste, high entertainment value, suitability for family audiences. Films to be shown at the River Oaks will be selected with your children in mind."

Opening ceremonies featured Houston Mayor Oscar F. Holcombe; Hugh Potter, president of the River Oaks Association; H.F. Pettigrew, of Pettigrew and Worley, who designed the theater; Buck Wynn Jr., who designed the interior; and Paul Scott, theater operator and manager.

A Post article touting the theater's opening mentioned a couple of architectural features:

"The seating arrangement provides wide spaces between the rows so that patrons will not be disturbed with the arrival or departure of others."

"Mr. Potter pointed out that the design of the theater has been conditioned to its location, in a grove of tall oak trees adjoining a residential neighborhood. The building is low so as to conform to a proposed adjoining structure which will contain additional store spaces and office facilities for the River Oaks Shopping Center."

The theater seated about 1,000 patrons.

The balcony stairway was lit with a continuous tube embedded in an aluminum hand rail. "The interior and exterior lighting reflect advancements presented for the first time this year at the New York and San Francisco fairs."

"Bas reliefs to the left and right of the stage are outstanding decorative features of the theater. Said to be the largest castings of their kind in the South, the bas reliefs portray the land and the sea. The work of Mr. Wynn, they have caused considerable favorable comment from artists and sculptors."

On Thursday

2007-04-23T12:41:00.000-04:00

Houston Arts and Media is holding its spring fundraiser Thursday from 6 - 9 p.m. at the Saint Arnold Brewery, 2522 Fairway Park Dr. At their Web site is a list of the dozens of items that will be up for auction that evening. Admission is $20.

Never heard of Houston Arts and Media? They're involved a number of projects related to Houston history. One is the Houston Neighborhood Series, which is a series of books that chronicles the history of specific areas of the city.

The other is an ongoing effort to get the oral histories of longtime Houstonians. The recordings collected are handed over to the Houston Public Library and the local universities for preservation.

"Live at Five" turns 30

2007-04-21T14:54:00.000-04:00

KTRK has the first broadcast of the 5 p.m. news show available for viewing. It originally aired on April 18, 1977.

http://abclocal.go.com/ktrk/story?section=stationinfo&id=5223619

Abandoned near Austin Street

2007-04-20T00:13:00.000-04:00

Tucked inside the Dec. 19, 1897, edition of the Houston Post was a story about an 11-month-old boy abandoned by his mother.

J.H. Wells, a hack driver, said that on Dec. 8, between 6 and 7 p.m., a "well-dressed woman got off the train and engaged his carriage."

While on Congress Avenue, between Austin and LaBranch, she stopped the carriage and asked the driver to go inside a nearby store to buy some ribbons.

When Wells returned, the woman was gone and the baby was left behind.

The Post reported that if the parents of the child could not be found, the State Superintendent of Homes for Homeless Children "will find a home for it in a Christian family."

New for 1897

2007-04-18T20:20:00.000-04:00

In 1897, the Houston Post published a series of sketches of buildings that were either under construction or slated for construction. The Frank Dunn store, located at Franklin and Milam, was one of them.

Looking right

2007-04-18T03:06:00.000-04:00

I added a couple of new items to the blog's right column. Under "File Cabinet," you'll see a link to a 1913 map of Houston.

Under the "Links Section" is a direct link to the Bob Bailey photo archive. In case you ever wanted to know what the inside of the old Yale Theater looked like, well, now you know!

Look! Up in the sky!

2007-04-14T00:57:00.000-04:00

It's a lighted airplane!

Well, at least that's what hundreds of Houstonians thought on March 13, 1918.

The Houston Post reported that someone said "lighted airplanes" were doing stunts over the city at about 11 p.m. that night.

"And as a result, hundreds of persons spent several foolish minutes looking at the stars, under the impression that they were lighted airships from Ellington Field," the paper reported.

(You know, I can't even begin to imagine an era when lighted airplanes gave cause to assemble and look toward the sky.)

Well, one person was certain the planes were doing loops.

"He explained that the sudden disappearance of the light was when the machine turned at the upper turn of the loop," according to the Post.

Most people believed that "until it began to dawn upon the minds of a few that the lights seen were stars and someone discovered that the clouds floating across the sky made these lights disappear and then appear again."

The article ended with a Prohibition reference:

"One disgusted star gazer gave it as his opinion that it was about time that the 10-mile zone law or a bone dry law should be passed right soon."

Skipping school

2007-04-12T13:30:00.000-04:00

The March 14, 1918, Houston Post had a small, funny little story tucked inside its pages about a group of students who decided to skip school and go swimming.

I can't say with any kind of certainty where they decided to hang out, but I have an idea. Don't hesitate to offer your own ideas, too.

"All of this happened in the bayou, near the Katy crossing on the North Side," the article stated.

Well, the Katy is known as the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Co. railroad. The Katy crossing could be where it cross the bayou -- "North Side" indicating it could be where the Missouri, Kansas, and Texas Co. railroad crossed White Oak Bayou.

If that's true, then we're talking about the area just east of Stude Park, on the other side of Studemont/Studewood.

Anyway, back to the story.

"The boys had their lunches -- intended to have been eaten at recess -- and -- well, who wanted a bathing suit anyway?"

So the boys swam, ate and eventually got thirsty.

"The boys decided that the few docile milch cows grazing along the side of the stream should furnish the 'drinks' for the banquet."

The cows didn't mind, but the same could not be said for the farmers.

"Then the trouble started," the article went on. "The North Side folks of the neighborhood do not object to boys swimming in the pool, but they certainly become irascible when someone milks their cows before dinner. A call for the police was phoned in."

Once police arrived, the boys fled, never to be found.

A different kind of red-light issue (2 of 3)

2007-04-08T03:45:00.000-04:00

(Catch up with part 1 here.)

So why was Houston's segregated vice district created?

According to a report by the city's ordinance committee, the city had received numerous complaints from residents of the First and Second wards and the school system.

"There exists at the present time in our city a most deplorable state of affairs with reference to these women," the 1908 report stated. "This unfortunate state of affairs has not existed in Houston until lately."

The committee's report hints at an unofficial vice district that previously existed in the city:

"During a great number of years, probably as many as 25 years, the majority of these women lived to the exclusion of other residents within a district or reservation which, while not declared by law or ordinance, existed in fact."

Actions by the courts and the state Legislature did away with that older vice district and caused many prostitutes to spread throughout the city, which eventually led to the complaints.

But in advocating the creation of the segregated vice district, the committee concluded that:

"The successful and permanent exclusion of prostitution from the limits of a city the size of Houston is impossible. It is a fact of general knowledge that the successful permanent exclusion of prostitution from any city of large size has never occurred in the history of the world...."

Kicking prostitutes out of the city limits would "form clusters on the outskirts of the city, most probably on the principal avenues and street car lines leading out of the city. Electric transit has carried a large portion of the residences of the people to the outskirts of the city. These citizens would have these offensive establishments brought in close contact to their homes and would have the lines of street car communication to their homes ruined by the presence of immoral men and women."

And what about those Fourth Ward residents living near the vice district?

"The district selected is considered from all points of view the best selection that could have been made. The property is of very little value and will be increased rather than diminished in value by the ordinance. No public school is situated in or near it, nor is there any occasion for school children to pass through it in going to school. It is not situated on any public thoroughfare in general use and largely the land is vacant and unoccupied by residents and is of little value, situated in the bends of the bayou and cut up by gullies."

Think about that the next time you drive down Allen Parkway near Eleanor Tinsley Park.

Actually, the whole idea of a segregated vice district wasn't exactly new to anyone. Chicago, New Orleans and Des Moines, Iowa, were a few of the cities to have their own districts. In Texas, "Guy Town" in Austin, "Frogtown" and "Boggy Bayou" in Dallas, the Utah Street reservation in El Paso, "Hell's Half Acre" in Fort Worth, the Post Office Street district in Galveston, the "District" in San Antonio, and "Two Street" in Waco were each of those town's vice districts, according to the Handbook of Texas.

Houston's was referred to as "Happy Hollow."

But as the city geared for war and as attention turned elsewhere, the city's vice district would come to a close in about 10 years. By that time, according to the Handbook of Texas, 60 percent of the women who led households of prostitutes in the vice reservation were Anglo, 35 percent black, and 5 percent Hispanic.

Streetcar shooting

2007-04-03T03:17:00.000-04:00

It happened somewhere near Tuam and Albany streets.

On March, 11, 1918, a person the Houston Post described as a "demented negro" reportedly shot two men during an altercation on a streetcar.

The suspect, W.H. Thompson, believed the car's conductor, R.N. Wells, was trying to sprinkle "hoodoo" powder on him.

The trouble started when the man tried to leave the streetcar before it came to a stop. When the conductor objected, the man replied, "You can't work no spells on me."

By this time, the streetcar was at Taft and Fairview, the Post reported.

A few blocks later, near Tuam and Albany, the man fired a gun at Wells, striking him in the shoulder.

Wells jumped from the streetcar. At the same time, an outbound streetcar also came to a stop at the intersection.

George Wilson, an engineer at the Home of the Good Shepherd, was a passenger on the outbound car. When he and all the other passengers learned what was going on, he chased Thompson. During that time, Thompson fired again, striking Wilson in the shoulder.

As a mob of passengers gave chase, Thompson was able to flee into a home on Whitney Street, where he called police and surrendered.

Hearing gunfire, many residents in the area came out armed with weapons as well.

Both Wells and Wilson were taken to St. Joseph's Infirmary and treated for minor injuries.

Thompson, who had been tried about a year earlier for attempting to assault a woman in the 200 block of Hathaway (now Westheimer), was arrested and charged with two counts of assault to murder.

August 19, 1965

2007-03-29T18:40:00.000-04:00

A different sort of red-light issue (1 of 3)

2007-03-28T11:12:00.000-04:00

On March, 30, 1908, Houston City Council passed an ordinance establishing a segregated vice district.

The Houston Post reported the move was in response to the petitions of several residents throughout the city that action needed to be done to "relieve their surroundings of the immoral element that has overflowed from the places formally understood to be set apart for them."

The City Council resolution states that "such houses are scattered throughout the city and in many cases in residence sections and in the neighborhood of public schools." It went on to conclude that prostitution was creating a "menace to public order and decency, to the sanctity of the home and to the moral welfare of the young."

So where was this segregated vice district?

Rather than list the convoluted boundaries City Council created, I've drawn it out on various maps. This is a Sanborn Fire Insurance map from 1907. Look familiar?

Of course, it's the Fourth Ward. Long before Buffalo Drive, which later became Allen Parkway. The area, made up of mostly scattered dwellings inhabited by blacks, later became San Felipe Courts and the Allen Parkway Village apartments.

Here's how the area looked in 1913:

Note that the district's boundaries changed somewhat between 1907 and 1913. By 1911, the district expanded slightly to include the intersection of Howard and Lamb streets.

As you'd likely guess, hardly any of the streets that made up the sex district exist today with the exception of Crosby, Lamb Street and Nash Street. Both Lamb and Nash barely exist as streets today, as this next image shows:

Once enacted, the ordinance made it illegal for anyone to rent, lease or hire any house, building or room to any female "notoriously abandoned to lewdness, or for immoral purposes" outside the district.

It also was illegal for prostitutes to stand on the sidewalks near the premises, to beckon any person walking by, to walk around the city indecently attired or "to behave in public as to occasion scandal or disturb or offend the peace and good morals of the people."

Hauled into court (part 2 of 2)

2007-03-26T12:57:00.000-04:00

So whatever happened to Paul Grosse?

Well, in the months following his arrest for allegedly violating the nation's espionage act, Grosse's case was to be referred to a federal grand jury when it met in mid-March 1918.

But all that likely changed when U.S. Judge William B. Sheppard heard details about the case against Charles Meitzen of Fayetteville.

Meitzen, indicted for violating the espionage act, went to trial in Sheppard's court.

Prosecutors accused Meitzen of:

* Making a false statement (and thereby promoting the success of the enemy) by saying that when Americans are drafted, they won't have to go overseas

* Causing disloyalty by saying, "Whoever volunteers is a ... "

* Obstructing recruitment efforts by advising men to not volunteer but wait for the draft

After testimony finished, Sheppard dismissed the jury and allowed federal prosecutors to explain why Sheppard warranted prosecution.

The Houston Post reported that Sheppard said Meitzen would have had to make his remarks directly at a soldier in order to try the case under the espionage act. The judge brought the jury back and instructed them to return a verdict of not guilty against Sheppard because the evidence failed the support the case.

Prosecutors first brought Meitzen's case to court because they believed it was the strongest among all the other espionage cases.

Seeing what he thought was his best case of espionage fall apart, District Attorney John Green Jr. wanted to have the charges withdrawn in all the other espionage cases pending before the court, the paper reported.

Grosse, whose case was headed to the grand jury, likely had his charges withdrawn, as well.

1913 Map of Houston

2007-03-25T13:23:00.000-04:00

I found this map over at the Texas State Library and Archives (via Houstorian). While you're over at Houstorian, check out the write-up on the history of Shepherd Drive.

More funny laws

2007-03-23T04:56:00.000-04:00

When put in perspective this law isn't really funny, but in today's world, it seems kind of amusing.

"Be it ordained by the Mayor, Aldermen and Inhabitants of the City of Houston, That from and after the 31st day of December, 1867, it shall not be lawful for the owners of hogs, sows, pigs, or goats to suffer or permit the same to go at large in the limits of the City."

Violating that ordinance could cause the animals to be destroyed "or disposed of by the City Marshal in any manner he may see fit."

The city marshal (sort of like a police chief) was "hereby ordered, from and after this ordinance shall have taken effect, to speedily kill or dispose of all hogs, sows, pigs or goats found going at large within the city limits."

In addition to losing your goat, you could be fined $5 ($66 in today's money) for each animal found loose.

Another law -- passed in 1905 -- had to do with ogling women.

"That hereafter any male person in the City of Houston who shall stare at, or make what is commonly called 'goo-goo eyes' at, or in any other manner look at or make remarks to or concerning, or cough or whistle at, or do any other act to attract the attention of any woman or female person upon or traveling along any of the sidewalks, streets, or public ways in the City of Houston, with the intent or in a manner calculated to annoy, or to attempt to flirt with any such woman or female person, shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor..."

A violation would bring a fine of not more than $100. What cost $100 in 1905 would cost $2164 in 2006.

The 'goo-goo eyes' law was on the books up through the 1950s.

Plug pulled on East End landmark

2007-03-20T02:45:00.000-04:00

(An uncropped version can be found at Wikipedia. Official license.)

According to today's Chronicle, the neon Maxwell House sign is no more. The plant was sold to another company. The sign wasn't part of the sale and is actually a trademark belonging to the previous owner, Kraft Foods.

The article states that Maxwell House moved to the Harrisburg site in 1947. Originally, the location was home to a Ford assembly plant.

Personally, I remember seeing it when I used to look out over Prairie Street from the Wortham Center. It certainly was a distinctive sign at night.

Alternate design

2007-03-16T13:03:00.000-04:00

I found this in the 1907-1908 edition of the Standard Blue Book of Texas Who's Who.

The image says the Chronicle building "will be one of the largest and handsomest newspaper and office buildings in the Southwest."

Of course, the building ended up looking like this:

Now, some may say that first image sure looks like the Rice Hotel. Well, construction on the Rice Hotel as it looks today wasn't complete until 1913. The third wing was added 13 years after that.

Plans change, I guess!

Hauled into court (Part 1 of 2)

2007-03-13T14:02:00.000-04:00

1918 wasn’t off to a good start for local businessman Paul Grosse.

On Jan. 4, he found himself before United States Commissioner Jackson for arraignment on a charge of violating the espionage act.

Passed by Congress in 1917, the measure made it a crime to interfere with the operation of U.S. armed forces or to promote the success of its enemies. A conviction could bring a maximum punishment of $10,000 and 20 years in prison.

The government asserted that Grosse, president of the Houston Grain Co., indulged in pro-German military talk.

One witness for the government, the Chronicle reported, said Grosse told him that he didn’t think John “Black Jack” Pershing had many men nor could he get many men to fight in Europe.

The witness said Grosse allegedly told him that he would like to see the Germans clean up the Allies before the U.S. got in.

Regarding the Halifax disaster a month earlier: “He said they may as well be killed that way as any other way.”

In his defense, Grosse, a German-born immigrant who had lived in Houston for many years, never said anything directly against the United States. Defense witnesses said Grosse was, in fact, a loyal American.

A statement he read (prepared by his attorneys) told of how he escaped German militarism and came to America.

“I have been faithful to my family and friends and the right, and any wrong has been unconsciously done,” he said.

C.W. Nugent, Grosse’s attorney, told the court:

“We know how vital it is to look out for everything that is for the welfare of the people and the principles involved. However, human minds are all the same and in moments of enthusiasm, zeal gets us at times.”

But the two-day hearing ended with Grosse’s case being referred to a federal grand jury, the Post reported. He was released on $8,000 (about $122,000) bail.

More to come…

Downtown, late 1920s

2007-03-10T01:02:00.000-05:00

Downtown, looking west toward Sam Houston Hall, late '20s. The Julia Ideson building can be seen left of center.

I found this Sloane Gallery picture while checking out Houstorian, a new blog on local history.

Galveston Causeway: Target of sabotage?

2007-03-08T17:08:00.001-05:00

On July 12, 1917, a watchman saw someone toss a lighted bomb from a northbound M.K. & T. train after it passed over the Galveston Causeway.

The Houston Chronicle reported that the man grabbed it and threw it into Galveston Bay. In doing so, he ended up burning his hand.

Maxwell Arentzen, a Philadelphia native who was enjoying a free ride on the freight train, was held on charges related to the attempted bombing. But he told authorities he was removed from the train before the bomb was to have been thrown. Investigators told the Chronicle his story appeared credible.

In its coverage, the Houston Press reported that had the bombing been successful, it "would suspend a flow of munitions for the allies through" Galveston.

Southern Pacific and federal officials combed the bay with hooks to find the explosive. No bomb was found in the days following the incident.

Woodland Heights Centennial Home Tour

2007-03-01T14:49:00.000-05:00

Now that I have a home Internet connection established, expect some new items late next week.

Until then, I wanted to let you know about the 2007 Woodland Heights Centennial Home Tour on Saturday, March 24 and Sunday, March 25. Seven homes from the early 1900s will be featured on the tour.

Advance tickets can be purchased through PayPal or at several Woodland Heights-area merchants. Tickets are $15.00 each.

For more information, check out the Woodland Heights Web site.

ALSO

The Chronicle had an interesting article today about a city plan to grant permanent tax exemptions to historic buildings. Residential structures would be excluded, though.

Still here

2007-02-18T00:18:00.000-05:00

I'm still here, and I'm back in Houston!

Thanks to those who inquired about my whereabouts. I'm in the process of unpacking and getting high-speed Internet set up again. As you can imagine, between that and getting settled at my new job, spending time at the library isn't on the to-do list at the moment.

But that should change in the next couple of weeks. You can expect some new BCH postings before the middle of March. Bookmark this site and check back regularly, will ya?

Thanks again!

What's going on here?

2007-01-17T13:09:00.000-05:00

Well, I knew I couldn't maintain a blog about Houston history from South Carolina forever.

What should I do, then?

Why, move to Houston, of course!

After six years of living away from my place of birth, I've taken a job that will bring me back to my hometown.

What does this mean for BCH?

In the short term, expect fewer postings. Yeah, I'll have to pack my belongings and settle in with family until I'm able to find a place of my own. No high-speed internet connection until then, either.

But when I finally get settled, I'll be back to posting regularly. The move couldn't have come at a better time because I was fast running out of things to write. My stack of information here in S.C. is only so large, and it became clear that I would soon run out.

That won't be a problem any longer. In the next month or so, I hope to continue providing details to little-known events in Houston's history.

For example, who was behind the plot to bomb the Galveston causeway? And whatever happened to the alleged German spy arrested in Houston?

That's always been the goal of BCH: to dust off little items of Houston's past that most people either never knew or forgot.

Stay tuned.

Last of the Ship Channel pics

2007-01-13T11:38:00.000-05:00

I thought I had posted all of them, but here is the last photo from the set of Ship Channel pics that I had.

Sam Houston's home

2007-01-08T10:43:00.000-05:00

The first photograph is of Sam Houston's old home off Caroline. I'm not sure where it exactly was, but I'm sure it's not there anymore!

The second is of a monument at the San Jacinto Battleground. Hmm...it sure has grown in the last 100 years.

Both photos are from the 1900s.

(Sorry for the lack of updates last week. I've got some things going on in the next few weeks that will indirectly impact BCH in a good way. More about it next week.)

The death of Anson Jones

2007-01-01T23:10:00.000-05:00

Anson Jones, the Republic of Texas’ last president, killed himself on Jan. 9, 1858. It was done at the Old Capitol Hotel, where the Rice Lofts sit today.

According to the Tri-Weekly Telegraph, Jones was found “lying across his bed…with a discharged pistol in his hand, and his brains blown out.”

A physician, the Massachusetts native bounced from Norwich, Conn., Philadelphia, and even spent some time in Venezuela for a couple of years.

Eventually, he landed in Texas just before it sought independence from Mexico. According to the Handbook of Texas, Jones didn’t actually figure on making his stay in Texas a long-term thing: He had engaged passage back to New Orleans when the citizens of Brazoria urged him to “give Texas a fair trial.”

He stayed, became involved in Texas’ fight for independence, got into politics and was eventually elected the young nation’s president in 1844.

I’m probably skipping over a lot of Jones’ contributions to Texas history and his efforts at annexation. For more on Jones, click here.

This entry is about his death. According to the Handbook of Texas, Jones became increasingly moody about losing a bid for the U.S. Senate. In 1857, Jones figured the legislature would send him to Washington as senator, but he received no votes.

Just a few days into 1858, friends said Jones came to Houston from his home in Washington County to find a place to live in the region, the Telegraph reported.

“He desired, he said, to spend the remainder of his days in more social life than was possible on his farm, and also to give his children the opportunities of a good education,” the paper reported.

He visited Galveston, returned to Houston and stayed at the hotel.

“He had apparently been drinking, perhaps more freely than was his wont; he was observed to be in low spirits,” according to the Telegraph.

Shortly after his arrival in Houston, Jones reportedly told his friend, W.D. Smith:

“I have been having some very serious thoughts today. My public career, you are aware, began in this house, and I have been thinking that perhaps it might close here.”

Smith, sensing alarm, turned the conversation away toward more light matters. The paper, quoting Smith, said Jones expressed “a satisfaction with his public career, and observing there was nothing in it he would desire to change.”

On Jan. 9, Jones appeared in good spirits. But as the day went on, he again became glum, making references to ending his public career in the place where it began.

A servant was called to Jones’ room at about midnight and again at 3 a.m., when Jones asked him for a glass of “spirits.” Jones dismissed the servant and sent him on his way after learning the servant was unable to get any.

Later that morning, Smith arrived at Jones’ room to find the door locked. After getting no response, Smith had the door broken open. Inside was Jones’ body. No one reported hearing the sound of gunfire that night.

The Telegraph noted that Jones was the latest Texas statesman to have committed suicide.

“Collinsworth, Birdsall, Grayson and Rusk, had gone that way, and Jones has now followed them. Peace to his ashes!”

(James Collinsworth, signer of the Texas Declaration of Independence, fell or jumped off a boat in Galveston Bay and drowned in 1838.

Birdsall could refer to John Birdsall, attorney general under the Republic of Texas, but he died of yellow fever in 1839.

Peter Wagener Grayson, attorney general for the Republic of Texas and naval agent to the United States, died in 1838 after he reluctantly agreed to be the Houston party candidate for president. According to the Handbook of Texas: On June 20, he left Galveston for Washington, D.C. July 8 found him in Bean’s Station, northeast of Knoxville. That evening, he wrote of the terrible mental “fiend that possessed me” and bemoaned his acceptance of the presidential nomination, which had led to falsified, bitter campaign charges against him. The next morning he fatally shot himself. Besides a history of mental illness and the terrible calumnies of the campaign, his suicide has been blamed on an alleged rebuff to his marriage proposal by a Louisville woman whom he had long courted.

Thomas Jefferson Rusk, chief justice of the republic’s Supreme Court and U.S. senator from Texas, died in 1857 after his wife died of tuberculosis. He also was ill from a tumor at the base of his neck.)

Jones is buried at Glenwood Cemetery.

Springtime at the Houston Ship Channel

2006-12-28T02:42:00.000-05:00

This aerial photograph was taken sometime around April 1923. To the left is the Turning Basin. Somewhere down the center of the photograph is where Loop 610 would be today.

92 posts, 5,000 visitors

2006-12-21T01:35:00.000-05:00

BCH has had 5,000 visitors since June. During that time, the site has had 12,100 page views. Not bad!

Because of the Christmas holiday, BCH will take a few days off and return next week. Actually, I'll be in Houston for a few days, at least. Other than a 45-minute layover at IAH this week, I haven't been home all year!

So, take care, and happy holidays, all!

Houston in 1924

2006-12-20T11:50:00.000-05:00

Population
212,000 (1924)
2,016,582 (2005)

Area
36 square miles (1924)
601.7 square miles (2006)

89 miles of streetcar tracks

362 miles of paved streets

Real estate transfers of $26,080,972

Monthly purchases of groceries of more than $2,000,000

Altitude
28 feet (1924)
43 feet (2006)

Mean temperature
69.1 (1924)
68.8 (Based on period from 1971 through 2000)

Summer mean temperature: 82.4

Winter mean temperature: 54.5

59 school buildings

Birthrate:
21.2 per thousand (1924)
18.6 (2003)

Death rate: 11.6 per thousand

(Source for 1924 information came from the Chronicle's guide to the city.)

The Sweeney Clock

2006-12-17T11:03:00.000-05:00

The clock that now sits at Capitol and Bagby was moved there in the mid-1970s. Originally, it was built in 1908 and placed in front of the Sweeney Jewelry store on 409 Main Street.

Three pictures from Galveston, circa 1907. St. Mary's Cathedral, Galveston Medical College and Sealy Hospital.

The explosion of the Farmer

2006-12-15T11:30:00.000-05:00

Two steamers, the Farmer and the Neptune, were racing from Galveston to Houston on March 23, 1853. During the race, the Farmer exploded, killing J.M. Reynolds.

A coroner's inquest into Reynolds' death was held at Galveston, the Houston Democratic Telegraph and Texas Register reported a few days later.

The jury decided that Reynolds died from injuries received when the Farmer exploded during the race.

Blame for the explosion was not placed on the owners or agents of the Farmer. In fact, the paper reported, "Gen E.B. Nichols is the principal, if not the sole, agent in this city of the line to which the Farmer belonged, and he informs us that he repeatedly charged Capt. Webb not to engage in racing with the Neptune or any other boat."

Turning basin, circa early 1920s

2006-12-13T11:38:00.000-05:00

Note bridge at top of photo.

Christmas at the Metropolitan

2006-12-11T11:15:00.000-05:00

It was a full day of entertainment when the $2 million Metropolitan Theatre opened on Dec. 25, 1926.

The main attraction was the silent film “Stranded in Paris” starring Dallas native Bebe Daniels.

“I know that the Metropolitan will establish itself instantaneously as one of the outstanding theatres of the Publix Chain,” she said, in a telegram published in the Chronicle.

Throughout the day, patrons also saw:

Helen Yorke and James Quinlan in the production of “The Inaugural Banquet,” produced by Paul Oscard. “The young producer was visibly impressed with the magnificence of the Metropolitan,…” the Chronicle reported.

Charlie Calvert, comedian and dancer

Mabel Hollis, singer

Irnamette, a dancing violinist with the ability to dance the Charleston and play her instrument at the same time

The Eight Leonara Steppers dance team

George Dayton, comedian

“Melodies of Southern States,” featuring the Metropolitan orchestra

“Organs I Have Played,” featuring the “internationally famous organist” George Latsch

Houston Ship Channel

2006-12-08T01:36:00.000-05:00

Two photos, circa 1923, of the Houston Ship Channel area. I have a few more I'll share over the next couple of weeks.

Grants

2006-12-06T00:55:00.000-05:00

I took this picture about six years ago, maybe five years ago when I still lived in Houston. This is somewhere near Market Square. I want to say this is at that parking lot on the north side of the Chronicle Building, but I can't remember. It's funny that whoever paved over the lot decided not to pave this part of the storefront.

I want to say this was where Grants dime store used to be, but I'm not sure. Does anyone remember a Grants downtown?

Stop! Thief!

2006-12-04T01:44:00.000-05:00

From the "Some things never change" department:

On Dec 8, 1876, the Houston Daily Telegraph asked rhetorically, "Why is not the vagrant law enforced?"

Apparently, the paper was somewhat upset at the thieves "at work in the city."

Among the recent thefts the paper reported:

A camp mattress at Macatee's Warehouse was stolen.
Someone cut off the pantaloons pocket of a Mr. D.B. Lynch and made off with $18. (What cost $18 in 1876 would cost $302.59 in 2005 dollars.)
Someone also pickpocketed $5 from a Mr. B. Stone. (Five dollars in 1876 would cost $84.05 in 2005.)

The newspaper reported the men had been visiting from Montgomery County.

Also noted that day...

The Iron Bridge had been repaired and opened for travel. Not much is said about the bridge itself, other than it crossed the bayou.

"Draymen, horsemen and the public generally will rejoice at this, for every one compelled to go to and fro across the bayou traveled not less than one hundred miles extra during the time it was closed up," the paper reported (emphasis mine).

99 years ago today

2006-12-01T11:38:00.000-05:00

The city block located where the Harris County Administration Building sits today was the scene of a large fire Dec. 1, 1907.

Fortunately, no one was killed in the blaze, but three people were injured by falling debris.

What caused the fire was a matter of speculation the following day, the Chronicle reported. Most witnesses at the time heard an explosion just before the fire started.

One such witnesses was H.J. Larson, deputy county clerk. He told the Chronicle in its Dec. 2 edition that while standing at Main and Congress, an explosion appeared to lift the roof of the Dunn Building "several feet and then settle back in place again." By the time firefighters arrived, the blaze spread to other buildings on the same block.

Among the items lost in the fire were federal court papers. The court was located on the top floor of the Houston Theatre Building which was destroyed.

"There was not a vault or safe provided for all of the valuable papers and decrees of the court and except for reports sent to Washington, the court will be without a paper or record to show the disposition of a single case which ever came before the court in this city," the Chronicle reported.

Other buildings destroyed and/or damaged were:

The Houston Theatre on Main Street
The Julia Sellers Building, Congress at Fannin
The Miller Building, Preston at Fannin
The Pillot Building, Main Street
Three saloons, including the Texas Bar
The Levy Brothers Building
The J.J. Sweeney Jewelry Company Building, Congress at Main

The Sweeney Company Building, aka the Sweeney, Coombs & Fredericks Building still exists.

In the end, damage was estimated at $477,500 ($9,800,005 in today's dollars).

Fire at the school

2006-11-29T11:25:00.000-05:00

Houston (Central) High School burned March 18, 1919. As firefighters worked to put out the blaze, scores of Houstonians gathered to watch them battle the blaze. Hours later, about 900 students gathered near the building to check out the damage.

"As a matter of fact, not many expressions of regret were heard," the Chronicle reported.

Losses were estimated at $167,000 ($2,053,979 in today's dollars). Ten thousand dollars worth of textbooks were also destroyed ($122,992 today).

The paper said electrical problems may have led to the blaze. The school had been considered a fire trap for years.

"About the time the fire department began arriving on the scene, gases in the building exploded and the southwest corner of the structure was blown out," the paper reported.

USS Houston

2006-11-26T01:33:00.000-05:00

Rather than retell the history of the WWII-era ships named after the city, I wanted to share some items from the ships' history.

First, there were two ships named Houston during WWII. One, a heavy cruiser, was sunk during the Battle of the Java Sea on Feb. 28, 1942. Of the original crew of 1,061, 368 survived. For its efforts, the ship was awarded a Presidential Unit Citation, a copy of which is available at my Web site in a PDF file.

A second USS Houston, a light cruiser, soon followed. This ship also saw considerable action in the Pacific, as seen by the picture below. Long after the war ended, she was scrapped.

43 years ago today

2006-11-22T01:21:00.000-05:00

I highly suggest checking out Grady McAllister's Houston Radio History Web site. Scroll down a bit on that page, and you'll find an MP3 of KILT's breaking news coverage of the Kennedy assassination. It's a fascinating peek into what Houstonians were listening to as news poured out of Dallas that day.

The MP3 is about 30 mins long.

Two photos, two cities

2006-11-20T02:41:00.000-05:00

Because I haven't mentioned churches that often, here are two from 1907. First Presbyterian, I believe, was located at Main and McKinney, but someone correct me if I'm wrong. Annunciation Catholic Church, across from Minute Maid Park, was built in 1871 and underwent expansion and reconstruction 13 years later.

I'm almost certain this is a picture looking west down Ball Street toward 21st Street in Galveston.

When Houston had six TV stations

2006-11-17T02:07:00.000-05:00

It's Friday and it's another look at what was on local TV in the days before cable television. This schedule is from Aug. 9, 1974.

Some items of interest:

"The New Price is Right" aired at 2 p.m. on KHOU. It was only 30 minutes long.

Houstonians had three chances to catch "Electric Company" on KUHT.

KRIV-26 was known as KVRL back then.

The 1958 film "Satan's Satellites" aired on KHOU at 12:30 a.m.

Here's a look at what was on local TV in 1964.

Suicide on Fulton Street

2006-11-15T02:05:00.000-05:00

"Mother, I've taken something -- goodbye."

"You haven't!" the mother replied.

"Yes -- I've taken poison."

That's what 24-year-old Charles Miller reportedly told his mother when she checked on him the morning of Nov. 19, 1915. He died before medical help could arrive.

The man, who was engaged to be married, took carbolic acid (phenol), according to the coroner. Even though relations with his fiancee were described as "cordial," the man occasionally threatened to kill himself, according to what relatives told the coroner. Family members thought the remarks were made in jest.

In the end, it appears no motive was ever determined in Miller's death.

This all-too-common story -- headlined "Charles Miller Kills Himself" -- shared the Chronicle's front page with the story of the Liberty Bell's late arrival into Houston.

The events unfolded at a house in the 1800 block of Fulton Street. The newspaper article mentions the exact address, and according to Google Maps, it appears a house is still on that property. The exact address isn't listed here because I would rather not call attention to a residence that might still exist.

Still, a front-page article about a suicide inside one's own home isn't something you'd find in most American newspapers today. It wasn't the first time the subject of suicide involving a Houstonian made the newspapers then.

Tardy bell

2006-11-13T14:14:00.000-05:00

Thousands of Houstonians crowded the Grand Central Depot at Washington Avenue the night of Nov. 18, 1915, to get a glimpse of the Liberty Bell, which was on tour at the time.

The bell was scheduled to arrive in Houston by 10 p.m. But larger-than-expected crowds in Dallas delayed the bell’s arrival in Houston by a few hours.

Apparently, the bell was carried on a rail car through Dallas streets. But one sharp curve was encountered and the car left the track, the Houston Chronicle reported. The bell was already late reaching Dallas, and that mishap increased the delay by another two hours.

So Houstonians waited. By midnight, the crowd began to disperse.

They didn’t stay away for long.

“It seemed as if hundreds had set alarm clocks to arouse them out of their slumber about 3 o’clock. Fifteen minutes later a veritable parade of automobiles and taxicabs, at times three blocks long, pulled up in front of the Grand Central Depot. The occupants made a dash for the gates and the crowds kept coming and going the whole time the bell was on exhibition,” the Chronicle reported.

Ceremonies to honor the bell’s arrival were scrapped. H.F. MacGregor, Texas delegate to the Republican National Convention, was to meet Pennsylvania U.S. Senator Boies Penrose, but the senator was sound asleep on the train carrying the Liberty Bell.

Muddy day in Houston

2006-11-10T19:27:00.000-05:00

Main Street, looking south from Franklin Avenue, circa 1907

(Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been on vacation this week!)

One picture, two buildings

2006-11-08T11:24:00.000-05:00

The Horne Sanatorium -- located in the Heights -- was named after Dr. J. Alvin Horne. It didn't last long under his management. The building, which later became the Texas Christian Sanitarium, apparently burned in 1915, according to this Web site.

Both pictures were taken around 1907. St. Agnes Academy was founded in 1905, so it wasn't around for very long in this picture. A brief history on St. Agnes Academy can be found on its Web site.

Tek Ram calls you!

2006-11-05T21:37:00.000-05:00

This 1899 advertisement appeared in the Houston Daily Post. Basically, a meeting was called to organize efforts to celebrate the first-ever No-Tsu-Oh carnival.

Resembling something like New Orleans’ Mardi Gras celebrations (without the nudity, I assume), the carnival was “designed to stimulate commerce by bringing people to the city,” according to the Handbook of Texas. Parades, balls and even a football game between UT and Texas A&M usually filled about a week’s worth of festivities in November.

By the first week of Nov. 1915, festivalgoers were treated to a game between Texas and Sewanee (University of the South).

But 1915 was also the last year of the festival. No clear definition of its demise was given other than to say WWI may have contributed.

Not helping matters was a Nov. 18, 1915, Houston Chronicle editorial titled, “Let it be our last ‘Carnival.’”

“It is high time that Houston, metropolis of the Southwest, railroad center for this great and growing section of the country, should offer something by way of an annual exhibition other than the tin-horn parades and garrulous horseplay,” the Chronicle opined.

“Houston is getting too big, and its machinery is too nicely regulated to the lives and necessities of its 150,000 inhabitants, to have such an upheaval planted periodically right in the midst of its commercial district without permanent benefit and with temporary feelings of disgust and disappointment on the part of both home folks and visitors.

“This is no longer the center of a small slow growing rural district where the privilege of throwing balls at an African dodger or spinning a wheel for cigars constitutes the acme of pleasure.”

The Chronicle called for an “appropriate annual celebration.”

“Above all else, we want sobriety, decency and respectability emphasized above other qualities because only in this way can the city’s higher purposes be expressed.”

Some photos on No-Tsu-Oh can be found here and here.

(On a somewhat similar note, the downtown hangout No Tsu Oh has reopened.)

Paulhan postscript

2006-11-01T03:59:00.000-05:00

Houston History Mystery V: The case of the missing portrait

2006-10-30T23:36:00.000-05:00

It’s Halloween, which gives me a good excuse to post this photoshopped picture I took of the old Jefferson Davis Hospital years ago.

Speaking of JDH, here’s another Houston History Mystery that needs solving.

On Dec. 2, 1924, members of the United Daughters of the Confederacy met with hospital, city and county officials to officially open the hospital.

It’s no coincidence that local leaders scheduled the hospital’s dedication ceremony at the same time UDC members were meeting in Houston.

The high point of the ceremony was the unveiling of a portrait of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. The UDC presented the portrait to hospital officials.

Judge Sam Streetman, president of the local hospital board, hoped the portrait would “stand as a constant reminder of the highest conception of honor and duty as expressed in the life of Jefferson Davis.”

A bronze tablet commemorating the Confederate veterans was to have been presented at the ceremony, too, but it was not ready.

Obviously, the tablet and the portrait were removed at some point. No one seems to know where the items are located. I seem to remember contacting the UDC about it years ago, but no one knew anything about it. With the current inclination to remove all things related to the Confederacy, it’s easy to believe that both the painting and tablet have been lost for good.

When aviation landed in Houston

2006-10-29T22:16:00.000-05:00

The Houston Post touted it as the opportunity to see the “greatest invention of present era.”

In fact, the Post co-sponsored the event, so naturally the newspaper would play up the spectacle.

In the end, Frenchman Louis Paulhan’s flight over South Houston was the first documented flight of a heavier-than-air flying machine in Texas.

By the time Paulhan arrived in Houston, he was an accomplished aviator and record holder. His two-day appearance here in Feb. 1910 was part of a tour that included stops in Los Angeles, Salt Lake City and New Orleans.

Some notes from his appearance in Houston:

*Paulhan flew a Farman biplane.

*Admission, which included a round-trip ride on the Galveston, Houston and Henderson railroad, cost $1.25 (about $26 today). Those arriving by automobile paid less.

*The first flight was delayed a few hours because his plane was not assembled early enough.

“When the mammoth dragonfly-looking machine left the earth, a murmur disturbed the previous silence, and within an instant, the retreating aviator received a welcome from 3,000 throats,” the Post reported in its Feb. 19, 1910 edition.

During that first flight, Paulhan flew south-southeast and circled back over the spectators. Once he landed, a “great many thought the flights for the day over and boarded waiting trains for Houston.”

Actually, Paulhan landed because of engine trouble, according to the Post. Once that was fixed, he flew three more times and stopped when it started to get dark.

Paulhan eventually returned to Europe, setting more aviation firsts. He flew in WWI and became a seaplane builder once the war ended.

Anyone interested in local aviation history should tour the 1940 Air Terminal Museum at Hobby Airport.

A historical marker about Paulhan’s Houston appearance is here.

Now showing...in 3-D!

2006-10-27T02:04:00.000-04:00

In March 1953, moviegoers at the Loew's were treated to two 3-D shorts: "The Black Swan" and "Royal River," which was basically a trip down the Thames River.

"Without the special glasses, the figures look a little blurred," the Chronicle reported in its March 7, 1953, edition. "With them, they almost stand out so you can almost see around them and figures in the background are sharp and clear."

"Rogue's March" also was showing at the Loew's during that time.

Showing at the Majestic was the Alfred Hitchcock film "I Confess." To promote it, Hitchcock and actress Anne Baxter appeared before the audience once the movie ended.

"Referring to his ample proportions, (Hitchcock) announced that he was 4-D," the article reported.

(Hitchcock's next picture, "Dial M for Murder" would be shot in 3-D.)

Roger Dann, a French actor who also starred in "I Confess," sang a few songs for the audience, too.

"But when he sang 'Deep in the Heart of Texas' in French, he brought the house down," according to the article.

Two pictures

2006-10-24T12:22:00.000-04:00

Texas Avenue looking west at Fannin Street, 1907. Note the Rice Hotel on the far left and the original Chronicle building between the two buildings in the foreground.

And for the Galveston folks...Market Street, 1907.

The Hanging Tree

2006-10-22T13:51:00.000-04:00

Apparently, Founders Cemetery is also home to the Hanging Tree or "Hangsman Grove."

One Web site says "the tree has seen an untold number of deaths and suffering" while another Web site says several blacks were hanged there.

Some references indicate the tree is located near the entrance to the cemetery. I'm not sure if a marker or plaque indicates the location of the tree.

In Dr. S.O. Young's 1913 book, "True Stories of Old Houston and Houstonians," he says, "The general idea is that many men were hanged out there, but as a matter of fact only three executions took place there."

According to Young, a man named Hyde was the first to be executed at the site.

"He had waylaid and murdered a man and had then left the state and gone to Louisiana or Mississippi....Proper papers were made out and Hyde was arrested and brought back. That was in 1853, and the hanging took place in what was afterwards known as Hangsman Grove just on the southeast corner of the old cemetery out of the San Felipe Road," Young wrote.

The next execution was in 1868 and involved a black man named Johnson. About two years later, another black man named Johnson was executed at that spot.

After that, Young says, executions took place at the jail or jail yard.

Respect for the dead

2006-10-20T01:57:00.000-04:00

It only lasted a few years, but the Houston Republic, a weekly publication, frequently pressed for better care of the “City Grave Yard.”

“The opinions expressed to us by many strangers and numerous inhabitants of Houston renders it absolutely necessary that we should, through the columns of our journal, call public attention to this grave subject….” (Emphasis NOT mine!)

The column, published Jan. 16, 1858, doesn’t say which graveyard needed fixing. Presumably, it could be Founders’ Cemetery off West Dallas outside downtown. “At Rest: A Historical Directory of Harris County, Texas, Cemeteries” by Trevia Wooster Beverly notes that early newspaper editorials brought attention to the condition of the cemetery but little was done about it.

“We have railroads centering here – we have others projecting, which will, in time, make us the recipients of the trade of various portions of the state – we have a stream open to navigation at all seasons – the price of our great staple is looking up, and ere long the effects of our temporary depression in trade will…have passed away, and now let us spare from our abundance a little to effect the object named….

“Let the new Board of Aldermen vote a portion of the city revenue – let the County Court make an appropriation, and then we think by the aid of our ladies who, no doubt, will lend a helping hand to so philanthropic an object, the grave yard will be enclosed,” the column concluded.

Last time I checked, the fence was still standing.

A big misunderstanding

2006-10-18T01:51:00.000-04:00

As President William McKinley – hit by assassin’s bullet – edged closer to death, anxious Houstonians kept up with the latest on his health.

“The bulletin boards of the city were constantly scanned by an army of anxious watchers, and telephone inquiries poured in on The Post from all parts of the city,” the Houston Daily Post reported in Sept. 1901. “For hours it appeared that almost the entire population of the city alternated between mingled hope and fear.”

But a misunderstanding and touchy nerves led to the arrest of a Katy man downtown.

The man, who was not named by the Post, came to Houston for some medical treatment. He joined a crowd of others outside The Post’s bulletin boards awaiting the latest news on McKinley.

As they waited, he said he canvassed for McKinley in Chicago in 1896 and voted for him in 1900. During the 1896 election, the man said he made an $80 bet that McKinley would be elected. After the bet was agreed to, another man said, “You are right in betting on McKinley; he will be elected twice and then he will be assassinated, and after this there will be a revolution.”

That created a commotion when the crowd misheard the man’s tale and thought he won $80 betting that McKinley would be assassinated.
An officer arrested him, but the man was quickly released once everyone realized it was a misunderstanding.

Two old photographs

2006-10-16T00:44:00.000-04:00

Main Street and Lamar Avenue, 1941. You don't have to look very hard to find similar photos of this theater district. In addition to the Loew's State and Metropolitan on the left, the Kirby is on the right. The neon sign on the far right belongs to a "feminine apparel" store. This picture was apparently taken before Woolworth's opened at McKinney Avenue and Main Street.

Travis Street and Capitol Avenue, 1913. Contrary to the note on the photograph, I think the photographer was looking north or northeast rather than east. Anyway, this picture was taken just before renovations began on the old Rice Hotel. Farther up Travis, we see the Southern Pacific Building under construction along with the Union National Bank Building just right of center.

(Photographs used with kind permission.)

The birth of the Chronicle

2006-10-13T01:56:00.000-04:00

The first edition of the Houston Chronicle -- published Oct. 14, 1901 -- didn’t go unnoticed by its competitor.

Reaction to that first issue came from, of all places, the Houston Daily Post.

“It is a cleanly printed, skillfully arranged, well written sheet -- in most essentials an up-to-date publication,” the Post noted in its Oct. 15 edition. “In the first issue the business department makes a flattering exhibit in the way of advertising patronage….”

The short paragraph heralding the paper’s debut appeared inside the newspaper.

In conclusion, the Post wrote:

“The paper promises to join vigorously into the campaign for industrial development already going on, and announces that it is independent of any political party or faction.”

The Post closed in 1995 when the Hearst Corporation, which operates the Chronicle, purchased the Post’s assets.

Houston's pandemic panic

2006-10-11T02:05:00.000-04:00

As we enter flu shot season, let’s look at how the Spanish Flu Pandemic affected Houston.

As early as July 1918, health officials in the east had sounded the alarm over the malady. Philadelphia and Boston were among the first cities to report a significant number of cases. In fact, according to a PBS documentary, 635 new cases of influenza were reported in Philadelphia in late September shortly after 200,000 gathered for a Liberty Loan drive.

In Houston, things were calm. By Sept. 27, 1918, there were about 25 cases in the city. Four cases were localized to the home of the Emma R. Newsboys Association and nine other cases were reported in Magnolia Park.

Lt. J.W. McDonald, a government official who had been handling the cases, advised against closing the schools or quarantining Camp Logan.

“I think the ‘Spanish’ should be left off the disease that has visited Houston,” he told the Houston Press in its Sept. 27 edition. “It is more like la grippe.”

Less than two weeks later, on Oct. 9, 1918, Houston City Council ordered a shutdown of all schools and public places.

“This includes schools, moving pictures, theaters, churches and in fact all manner of assemblages,” the Houston Press reported that day.

The WPA Guide to Houston says that between 600 and 700 cases of Spanish Flu were reported at Camp Logan. By Oct. 14, the deaths totaled 111 after just a few weeks.

(In 1920, Houston had a population of 138,276, according the Chronicle’s 1924 guide to the city. One hundred and eleven of 138,276 is about .08 percent.

According to the U.S. Census, Houston had a population of 2,016,582 in 2005. If a disease struck Houston and killed about .08 percent of the city’s population, about 1,600 residents would be dead. Imagine…1,600 Houstonians dead in a matter of weeks!)

City officials hoped everything would calm down in a few days and planned to lift the flu quarantine in a week.

Actually, it wasn’t lifted for another 16 days.

Hit hard by the shutdown were local theaters, which lost thousands of dollars during that period. The theaters reopened with such acts including Fred Bowers’ “Annual Song Review” and Jack Lingwood of Canada’s Princess Pat regiment.

Thinking of you

2006-10-10T14:45:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Technorati, I've added a search feature near the bottom of the rail at right. A lot of people were perusing past entries, and I wanted to make it easier for visitors in case they wanted to find posts about a particular topic.

New card stock has been added to the custom cards I'm offering for sale. I'll update my personal Web page with the information in a day or two. As a result, expect a reduction in the price of cards printed on regular card stock.

As always, thanks for visiting.

(From top to bottom: Montrose Boulevard, looking south; Courtlandt Boulevard; San Jacinto Street, looking north from Walker Avenue; Prairie Avenue, looking west from Caroline Street; Main Street, looking south from McGowan Avenue; Travis Street, looking north from Rusk Avenue. Source: Houston Chronicle 1924 Guide to Houston.)

Open arms, open doors

2006-10-08T19:45:00.000-04:00

This drawing appeared in Wednesday’s Sept. 19, 1900, edition of the Houston Daily Post.

Without such wide, open spaces like the Astrodome, evacuees from Galveston were spread around town.

The drawing shows where some evacuees were staying.

1205 Congress is currently a parking lot across the street from the Harris County Criminal Justice Center, or diagonal to the old county courthouse.

606 Main is across Texas Avenue from Rice Lofts.

212 Fannin is across the street from the Harris County District Attorney’s office.

211 Crawford is now a parking lot north of Minute Maid Park and Franklin.

Turner Hall belonged to the Houston Turnverein and was likely located on a city block bounded by Prairie, Caroline, Texas and Austin.

On Tuesday, four trains and two tug boats arrived in Houston with nearly 1,000 more evacuees from Galveston.

Aside from the places mentioned above, evacuees were also staying at the Lawlor Hotel, Hutchins House, Bristol Hotel (712 Travis), Capitol (Rice) Hotel, Monteflore Hall, Settegast Building (1016 Preston) and Camp Building.

In unrelated news that day, the body of 12-year-old Robert Opperman was pulled from Buffalo Bayou. He apparently had been swimming in the bayou with some friends on Monday when he went under near the water works facilities (sort of across the bayou from where Bayou Place is). Opperman’s body was found the next day and pulled from the bayou at Main Street.

What's on TV?

2006-10-06T01:22:00.000-04:00

It's Friday, March 20, 1964.

Someone staying in that night would have been left with few options on local television.

From 7:30-8:30 p.m., there was a Bob Hope special (in color!) showing on Channel 2. After that, "The Twilight Zone" appeared on Channel 11 at 8:30.

But, hey, why not stay up after the news and catch wrestling on Channel 13?

Some night owl might have caught the locally produced program "Midnight With Marietta" on Channel 2.

Whatever happened to Marietta Marich?

Apparently, she's still working in front of the camera. This month, she reprises the role of Luda Mae Hewitt in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning."

Who knew?

A night at the opera house

2006-10-04T02:30:00.000-04:00

In the late 19th century, the Sweeney and Coombs Opera House was the place for live theater.

Located in the 300 block of Fannin, the opera house was named after the Sweeney & Coombs jewelry company. (Not to be confused with the building of the same name that still exists on the north side of the block where the Harris County Administration Building is located.) Does Sweeney’s Jewelers sound familiar?

On Sept. 26, 1892, Irish comedian Herbert Cawthorn starred in “Little Nugget.”

Not much is known about that production. The same goes for “A Breezy Time,” though it made the rounds in other opera houses during the same period.

Anyway, the next day, Houstonians got a chance to see McCabe and Young’s Operatic Minstrels.

Billed as “The Only Legitimate Colored Attraction,” the duo of Billy Young and D.W. McCabe were among the few blacks who actually owned their minstrel company.

According to the Cyber Encyclopedia of Musical Theatre, TV and Film Web site, “Black performers still had to wear blackface makeup in order to look ‘dark enough,’ performing material that demeaned their own race. Despite such drawbacks, minstrelsy provided African American performers with their first professional stage outlet.”

A well-sourced Wikipedia entry on the subject says all-black troupes played up the idea that their ethnicity made them the only true representatives of black song and dance. That may help explain why McCabe and Young’s Operatic Minstrels were billed in such a manner.

According to Young’s entry in the University of Kentucky’s list of notable African-Americans, the duo had been working together since the 1870s and managed to tour the South and Cuba.

But it appeared relations were already tense by the time the two hit Houston in 1892. Later that year, McCabe left the company in Mexico, took off with the money and was not heard from again until 1894.

McCabe died in 1907. Young continued to perform until 1913 when he developed lung problems and died a few months later.

And whatever happened to Cawthorn?

Well, he appeared on Broadway periodically from 1899-1908. But in December 1903, Cawthorn found himself in Chicago as part of the cast of “Mr. Blue Beard Jr.” at the Iroquois Theater. Cawthorn, the production company and 1,900 people in attendance would end up being part of one of the worst single-building fires in American history.

During the matinee performance, a light set a curtain on fire. Overbooking, poor fire prevention measures and other factors led to the deaths of more than 600 people.

Cawthorn was able to help many of the stage girls escape the blaze.

Houston History Mystery IV: Braes, Bray's or Brays?

2006-10-02T02:13:00.000-04:00

A reader recently asked how Bray’s Bayou got its name.

In short, no one is certain.

We do know that Bray’s Bayou was likely named by the mid-to-early 1820s. John R. Harris set up Harrisburg near where the bayou empties into Buffalo Bayou in 1826. About two years earlier, he had received a land grant for that area.

Page 23 of the WPA Guide to Houston makes reference to Bray’s Bayou in a quote from the 1828 diary of Joseph Clopper:

"Harrisburg is laid out on the west side of (Buffalo Bayou) just below its junction with Bray's bayou..."

But, thanks to some research by the Harris County Flood Control District, Clopper and his brother Edward apparently couldn’t agree on a name.

On January 3, 1828, Edward N. Clopper referred to "the junction of Buffalo Bayou and Brays Bayou" in his journal. On January 4, he wrote "at the junction of Braes and Buffalo Bayou."

The name discrepancy endures 180 years later:

The WPA Guide to Houston calls it Bray’s and Brays on maps.
A 1953 Humble Oil street map and a 1964 Texaco street map call it Brays Bayou.
A 1939 chamber of commerce map calls it Bray’s Bayou.
My 41st edition Key Map calls it Brays Bayou.
The Handbook of Texas calls it Bray’s Bayou.
Finally, the plan to alleviate flooding along the bayou is called Project Brays.

Some have said the word “Braes” is derived from a Scottish place name in which “brae” means “hillside” or “slope.” Webster’s New World Dictionary defines it as “a sloping bank; hillside.”

Some local history aficionados on the Houston Architecture Info forum speculated the name could have come from Spanish explorer Alonso Álvarez de Pineda, but it doesn’t seem likely. Nothing in the Handbook of Texas seems to indicate any other Spanish or French explorer contributed to the naming of Bray’s Bayou.

Another member of that board said a man named James Bray, who settled in that area with others in 1822, may have been responsible for the name. That is being looked at.

Keep in mind though, that settlers were already living along the waterways when Harris moved into where he would set up Harrisburg. Therefore, it would seem likely that someone had named the bayou by that point.

Any ideas?

(Background information and research credit for this post also goes to the Houston Public Library.)

Censorship scores a KO

2006-09-28T02:38:00.000-04:00

A film showing the July 21, 1927, fight between Jack Dempsey and Jack Sharkey had been showing for two days at the Best Theatre, 212 Main, when it was ordered deleted by the Houston censor board.

Mrs. T.H. Eggart of the censor board said she thought the film showed some parts of the bout. When she learned the film showed the entire seven-round fight, she demanded the film be removed from exhibition.

Paul Barraco, the theater’s manager, told the Houston Chronicle for its Sept. 28, 1927, edition that Eggart was told the film was a “clean fight picture.”

At the time, it was against state law to show films of prize fights. The Sims Act of July 31, 1912, also made it a federal offense to transport boxing films from one state to another.

By the way, Dempsey knocked out Sharkey in the seventh round.

This wasn’t the first time Houston’s censor board judged what Houstonians should and should not see.

Pack your bags!

2006-09-26T12:57:00.000-04:00

These advertisements were published in the Sept. 14, 1901, edition of the Houston Daily Post.

According to an inflation calculator, what cost $45.00 in 1901 would cost $997.00 these days. A $1 round trip on the Santa Fe to and from Galveston would cost $22.16 in 2005 dollars.

I think I’ll take I-45 instead.

Yellow fever blues (Part 2 of 2)

2006-09-25T00:59:00.000-04:00

"The present generation can not appreciate the horrors of a yellow fever epidemic. One case would appear, then two or three, and then people would be taken down by the hundreds. In a week the death roll would begin to swell and everything like business, except at the drug stores, would be suspended."

The next time you want to read up on Houston's pre-oil boom days, check out Dr. S.O. Young's "True Stories of Old Houston and Houstonians." It's not available at any bookstore, or at Amazon.com, but it can be found at either the Harris County or Houston public libraries.

Young perhaps left us with some of the best descriptions of how Houstonians reacted to a yellow fever outbreak.

"For the first few days pandemonium broke loose, and then people settled down and waited, in grim desperation, for the inevitable, knowing full well that only a complete exhaustion of material or a frost could stop the ravages of the fever," he writes.

"For instance, every exposed place was inundated with lime and, at night, huge bonfires, composed largely of tar barrels and tar were burned at street crossings."

It's interesting to imagine these bonfires -- designed to keep the mosquitoes away -- burning in what we today consider downtown.

Young also mentions that rumors would spread of the dead coming back to life.

"Dr. Massie died and was laid out. All preparations were completed for burying him, when he came to life. He was placed in bed again and heroic efforts were made to save him, but all in vain. He lived 24 hours and died, the last time for good."

On Sept. 17, 1867, the Houston Daily Telegraph offered some advice for anyone who might begin to feel the effects of yellow fever:

"Have mustard, castor oil, orange leaves, or some other materials for making a sweating tea, on hand, ready at a moment's call."

And finally:

"Let nobody enter the room, from first to last, but the doctor and the nurse. Visitors and friends who come to see the patient and talk with him or her are messengers of death."

Hook, line and sinker (Part 2 of 2)

2006-09-22T01:18:00.000-04:00

Nearly two weeks after the truck-house of Hook and Ladder Company No. 1 burned to the ground, investigators scratched their heads trying to figure out why it went up in flames.

Equally disturbing was how the company's new fire truck managed to wind up destroyed in the blaze.

Also unsettling was that the blaze started while everyone was occupied with the bonfire going on in the First Ward.

An investigation led to a youth named Diggs. He was brought before a grand jury and implicated two fire fighters in the blaze.

According to information published April 12, 1883, in the Houston Daily Post, the driver of the fire truck wanted to burn down the truck-house "for the purpose of getting a new one built in its place."

Knowing that a bonfire would occur after midnight on April Fool's Day, the driver figured it would be a good time to put his plan into action.

An accomplice stashed some hay in the back of the truck-house and saturated it with coal oil. The driver and the youth stayed behind and set the building on fire while the truck driver went to look into the First Ward bonfire.

"Their plan was to save the truck and burn only the house, but the flames, when once started, spread so rapidly that they were unable to do anything toward saving the new truck," the paper reported.

Both the truck driver and his accomplice were arrested and indicted for their part in torching the truck-house. The youth was able to testify against the two, which led to their arrest.

The history of the Houston Fire Department can be found here.

Still on the subject of fires, this Web site has some pictures from past fires in Houston. For example, does anyone remember when the Borden's Ice Cream plant exploded in downtown in Dec. 1983?

Yellow fever blues (Part 1 of 2)

2006-09-20T01:49:00.000-04:00

Fever? Burning eyes? Back and neck pain?

If you had those ailments while living in Houston 139 years ago, you were in trouble.

September 1867 was a particularly nasty time as the town was hit with a yellow fever epidemic. This wasn’t the first time “yellow jack” or the “black vomit” made an appearance. In 1858, 175 Houstonians died of the disease (about 3.6 percent of Houston’s population at the time). The following year, 15 to 24 people were dying at its peak. Before then, yellow fever and cholera killed so many people in such a short amount of time that bodies were dumped into long trenches at the old city cemetery (on West Dallas) and covered without a funeral ceremony.

But in the midst of the 1867 outbreak, the alarm raised by the Houston Daily Telegraph was mitigated by reports that few were dying of the disease.

“The number of cases will doubtless exceed 700. The mortality when we consider the number of cases, is very light,” the newspaper reported on Sept. 15, 1867.

From Aug. 12 to Sept. 14, 105 people had already died of yellow fever. In all, 492 would die by the time the outbreak subsided.

(That number is nearly 6 percent of the town's population. In 1860, Houston had a population of 4,845, according to Census figures. Ten years later, the town had a population of 9,382. For this calculation, the population of Houston at 1867 was estimated at 8,700. To put that in perspective, Houston's population in 2005 was estimated at 2,016,582. Six percent of that is 120,994. It makes one wonder how people today would react if that many residents of one city were to die of a particular disease in the span of a few months. Math experts are more than welcome to correct me!)

Galveston took a harder hit as more that 720 people died there by early September, according to the Handbook of Texas.

Among the dead:

Dick Dowling – Born in Ireland, settled in Houston and became a successful businessman. Among his businesses were Shades (a saloon) and the Bank of Bacchus near the Harris County courthouse. He fought for the Confederacy at the Battle of Galveston and played a key role in its victory at the Battle of Sabine Pass. A statue erected in 1905 that once stood on the site of the old City Hall at Market Square now stands at the entrance of Hermann Park on North MacGregor.

J.F. Wallace – Harris County assessor and collector

M. Bawsell – Deputy postmaster

General Charles Griffin – Born in Ohio, Griffin graduated from West Point in 1847. He went on to fight in the Mexican-American War and led Union troops during the Civil War battles at Antietam and Bull Run. He was present when Robert E. Lee surrendered at Appomattox Court House.

In Texas, Griffin took command of the Freedmen’s Bureau and military district of Texas during Reconstruction. During that time, he became heavily involved in Reconstruction politics.

But as yellow fever began to take hold of Galveston, he was urged to move his headquarters to Houston and establish a military quarantine, the Houston Daily Telegraph reported.

“But, with the true spirit of a soldier, he refused, saying that he was at his post and there he intended to remain,” according to the paper.

Yellow fever claimed his only son during the epidemic. By mid-September, Griffin also was dead.

“All who visited him, whatever differences of opinion might exist between them, came away pleased with him. … He was a stranger among the people of Texas, had fought against them in the war and was their military ruler at the time of his death. … Nevertheless, they feel sad at his untimely death and deeply sympathize with his excellent lady,” the Daily Telegraph reported on Sept. 17.

Hook, line and sinker (Part 1 of 2)

2006-09-16T20:24:00.000-04:00

Sometime between midnight and 1 a.m., fire crews were notified of a blaze in the First Ward.

"The teams all turned out promptly, and on arrival at the Central Depot, found that some persons had built a big bonfire, evidently for the purpose of getting up an April Fool alarm," the Houston Daily Post reported on April 1, 1883.

But while firefighters showed up to put out that fire, another fire alarm sounded. This time, the blaze was in the Third Ward.

"This turned out to be the truck-house of Hook and Ladder Company No. 1, which had caught fire during the absence of the driver and team," the paper reported.

Uh-oh. Residents and fire crews rushed back to the old building, which had burned down pretty quickly. A new fire truck inside was ruined.

"This truck was $3,500 ($67,000 today) when purchased, and had an extension ladder that could be raised to the height of seventy-two feet," according to the paper. "It has as complete a rig as any truck in the state."

So why did the Hook and Ladder Company building burn down? Find out Friday.

Hillendahl (Blue Light) Cemetery (Part 3 of 3)

2006-09-16T20:08:00.000-04:00

This 1970s photo is far different from the Hillendahl cemetery of today. Some diseased trees at Bear Creek Park forced officials to remove dozens of trees in the area. The cemetery now sits on the edge of this clearing. Getting to the cemetery is a tad difficult since it's not visible from any roads inside the park.

If you do manage to find it, there isn't much to see. Well, when I went six years ago, there wasn't much to see. The small cemetery is enclosed in a high fence that's locked. Inside are a few plaques left by the Boy Scouts that identify some of the bodies buried there. There are no visible headstones.

Past posts on Hillendahl Cemetery are here and here.

Showtime at the auditorium!

2006-09-14T02:43:00.000-04:00

In Houston, auditoriums and concert halls come and go. The Astrodome will likely end up as some kind of entertainment complex, the Summit is now Lakewood Church, the Astrohall is gone and the Sam Houston Coliseum and Music Hall have been replaced by newer performance halls.

The building pictured above was home to the 1928 Democratic National Convention. According to Marguerite Johnston's "Houston: The Unknown City," Jesse H. Jones was largely responsible for bringing the convention to the city. Jones, who was the party's national finance director, put up $200,000 and the promise of a 25,000-seat coliseum if the Democratic National Committee chose Houston.

The DNC did, and a coliseum was built between January and mid-June of 1928.

Eventually, the building would be torn down, and by 1940, the Sam Houston Coliseum would go up in its place. The $2,000,000 building ($26,000,000 in today's dollars) seated about 18,000. The adjacent Music Hall seated another 2,200.

The Hobby Center for the Performing Arts now occupies the site.

But before all those structures, there was the old City Auditorium.

Located where Jones Hall is today, the old City Auditorium was home to everything from wrestling to the Houston Symphony. It opened in 1910 and was torn down in the early 1960s.

Going back further, there was another city auditorium located at Main and McGowen.

I don't have much information on this structure except that it was located at the streets mentioned above.

Many of Bob Bailey's pictures of Houston, including the City Auditorium, can be found here.

For those wanting a tangible piece of history, the city visitors' center at City Hall sells bricks from the old coliseum and Music Hall.

Houston History Mystery #3: Strange formations in east Houston

2006-09-12T01:54:00.000-04:00

Maybe this isn't so difficult to solve, but for weeks, members of the Houston Architecture Info Forum have been trying to figure out some odd-looking ovals located off Clinton Drive.

The above image is from a WWII-era map of Houston. Note the three circular shapes set inside a pill-shaped circle. Does anyone know what this once was?

The second image is from a 1950s map of Houston. As you can see, Tite and Mississippi street cut through the area. Part of the shape remains, but it appears that the original landmark no longer exists.

The last image is from Google maps. The landmark doesn't appear to exist at all anymore.

Some have speculated that it could have been a park though no one is completely sure. Can you solve this mystery?

Meanwhile, our previous Houston History Mysteries remain unsolved:
The case of the missing murals
The case of the missing flagstaff

Disaster relief

2006-09-11T02:20:00.000-04:00

It didn't take long for Houston to help its neighbor.

Remember when that happened? Just days earlier, a hurricane decimated a major American city on the Gulf Coast. Many were killed or left homeless.

In response, Houstonians organized relief agencies, rounded up supplies and collected donations.
You remember that, right?

Probably not.

It was 1900. On Sept. 10, local residents gathered at City Council chambers for a meeting to coordinate supplies for Galveston. The meeting, led by Judge Norman Kittrell, resulted in the formation of a citizens' committee to take charge in organizing the relief effort. Benjamin Riesner, a blacksmith, was named chairman of the committee. Mayor Samuel Brashear was also named to the committee.

During the meeting, Texas Gov. Joseph Sayers sent Brashear a telegram saying that he had "taken the liberty of directing that all supplies for food and clothing for Galveston be shipped to you."

Three messages were also read:

On Sept. 9, G.N. McElroy, an Arcola station agent for the International and Great Northern Railway, sent word to Brashear seeking assistance. "There are 25 or more people here who are in urgent need of relief, quite a number of whom are sick ladies and children. One lady died before being rescued and a little girl is dying from injuries. The sick and homeless people need to be carried to a place of shelter."
Houstonian Rosine Ryan offered to volunteer her time to help with the relief effort.
Finally, William Randolph Hearst's New York Journal might have been looking for a scoop. "Can you give the Journal an idea of the extent of the calamity as to loss of life and property, what relief measures in your opinion should be inaugurated?"

President McKinley sent a note to Gov. Sayers inquiring about the number of rations and tents Galveston would need.

In the end, Katrina wasn't the first time Houston mobilized to help a storm-ravaged town.

(The above proclamation was published in the Sept. 10, 1900, edition of the Houston Daily Post.)

Gone, and largely forgotten (Part 3 of 3)

2006-09-09T14:43:00.000-04:00

Howellville
Jeanetta
Lotus
Frost Town
Almeda: State Marker
Genoa
Kilkare
Todville
Golden Acres
Sunny Side
Busch Terrace
Wooster
Coady
Linus
McNair
Clover Leaf
Highlands
Barrett
Harmaston
Dyersdale
Kinwood
Woodsdale
North Houston
Rosslyn
Fairbanks
Brunner
Strang
Olcott

Here are parts 1 and 2.

While Galveston suffered...

2006-09-07T14:35:00.000-04:00

Houston also took a serious hit from the 1900 storm.

One of the first reported deaths from the hurricane was that of Henry C. Black, a hired driver for funeral director Sid Westheimer.

A Second Ward alderman was going home at about 1:30 a.m. Sept. 9 when he noticed a body lying in a gutter in front of the Wells Fargo Express Company building. A downed power line was lying across the body.

The body was taken to the Houston Daily Post offices and was quickly identified as Black. Officials said it appeared Black was electrocuted by the downed power line.

"There were burns on the hands and on one of the legs, the flesh was seared to the bone," the Post reported.

Black was taken to his home in the 2200 block of Center Street once the storms subsided.

Other damage reported in Houston:

The roof of the Post building was torn off, flooding the presses.
The windows at the police station were shattered and the roof of the "prison department" was blown off.
A house at Tuam and Fairview caught fire after it was blown off its pillars.
The roof of the dining room at the Capitol Hotel was blown off.
Windows at the Southern Pacific offices at Franklin and Main Street were blown out.
The Grand Central depot and its hotel also lost much of its roof.
"The roof of on one wing of the Lawler Hotel was blown off and many of the windows in the building were shattered. The guests became alarmed and the crying of the ladies and children increased the excitement."

Trouble beyond the horizon

2006-09-06T01:20:00.000-04:00

This appeared in the Sept. 7, 1900, edition of the Houston Daily Post.

On Sept. 6, Isaac Cline, the Weather Service official in charge at Galveston, wrote that he had seen scattered clouds and northerly winds that day. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

That afternoon, he received a note from Washington, D.C., saying the tropical storm was over southern Florida. He figured it would head out toward the Atlantic.

Life continued on the island. Trouble -- was just beyond the horizon.

Plenty has been written about the Galveston storm of 1900. The information provided above came from Erik Larson's excellent book, "Isaac's Storm."

In the coming days, I'll post how the storm affected Houston and how local residents managed in its aftermath.

Valentine's Day snowfall

2006-09-03T13:26:00.000-04:00

The worst recorded snowfall in Houston's history likely occurred on Feb. 14 -15, 1895. In all, the city received about 20 inches of snow. Measurable amounts of snow would not be recorded again in Houston until 1912.

Today's weather forecast is located here. For better or worse, there's no mention of snow.

Lost to demolition

2006-09-01T03:21:00.000-04:00

Page 10 of the July 14, 1926, edition of the Houston Chronicle carried a brief but nostalgic look back at the “Old Kidd Mansion” – one of the first homes in Houston installed with a modern bath.

The home, located in the 900 block of Lamar (Lamar and Travis) was built in 1871. It is believed the widow of Dick Dowling was responsible for its construction.

Some prominent Houstonians called the place home, including architect Michael DeChaumes and Jesse H. Jones.

When Captain J.C. Kidd “was owner of the place, it was the scene of much gaiety,” the Chronicle wrote. “Where now the Metropolitan Theatre (Main Street between McKinney and Lamar) is being erected, was Bremond Square, a beautiful park. Main Street and Rusk Avenue saw the most traffic in those days.”

The city had a population of about 17,000 in the late 19th century.

But by the 1920s, the house became so obsolete that it could not be rented or leased profitably. Seeing that there was no Greater Houston Preservation Alliance at the time, the landmark was soon demolished.

“No plans have been drawn for a new structure to be erected on the site,” the paper reported, attributing that to the owners.

The downtown Foley’s was built on that block decades later.

(More about Houston's opulent homes of yesteryear can be found in "Houston's Forgotten Heritage: Landscapes, Houses, Interiors, 1824-1914," likely available at most large bookstores.)

170 years young

2006-08-30T02:54:00.000-04:00

H-Town, Bayou City, Space City, Clutch City, Magnolia City -- no matter what others call it, I prefer to call it my hometown.

Today, my hometown turns 170.

Some may disagree on the date, but according to the Handbook of Texas, "The city began on August 30, 1836, when Augustus Chapman Allen and John Kirby Allen ran an advertisement in the Telegraph and Texas Register for the 'Town of Houston.' "

Among the townsite's amenities the Allens touted:

"Vessels from New Orleans or New York can sail without obstacle to this place, and steamboats of the largest class can run down to Galveston Island in 8 or 10 hours, in all seasons of weather."

"There is no place in Texas more healthy, having an abundance of excellent spring water, and enjoying the sea breeze in all its freshness."

"Nature appears to have designated this place for the future seat of Government. It is handsome and beautifully elevated, salubrious and well watered...."

At the time this was written, there wasn't much to the town. In fact, it barely existed at that point.

The "WPA Guide to Houston" notes that at the time, Mrs. Dilue Harris wrote:

"There was so much excitement about the city of Houston that some of the young men in our neighborhood, my brother among them, visited it. After being absent for some time they said it was hard work to find the city in the pine woods and that when they did, it consisted of one dugout canoe, a bottle gourd of whisky and a surveyor's chain and compass and was inhabited by four men with an ordinary camping outfit....

"We asked them at what hotel they had put up and whether they went to church and to the theater. They took our teasing in good part and said they were glad to get home alive. They said the mosquitoes were as large as grasshoppers...."

Some things never change, eh?

Gone, and largely forgotten (Part 2 of 3)

2006-08-28T03:37:00.000-04:00

Ten more towns/communities.

Myrtle Turf
Rose Hill
Lomax
Beaumont Place
Fauna
Moonshine Hill: State marker can be found here.
Kohrville: State marker can be found here.
Rosslyn
Satsuma
Addicks

Some fine-tuning

2006-08-27T00:58:00.000-04:00

As you may or may not have noticed, I've added a file cabinet section to the Web site. I'll put whatever file I've created and hosted over at right for easy access.

My personal Web page has been updated. Anyone wishing to know a little more about me can check that out.

While you're there, you can also check out the little (very little) shop I've set up. If you're interested in custom-made, blank cards printed with an antique Houston postcard on the cover, then that's the place for you!

September posts will include some old pics of Blue Light Cemetery, a continued list of old Houston communities, the next Houston History Mystery, and much more.

As always, thanks for reading.

When the Beatles invaded Houston

2006-08-25T01:33:00.000-04:00

They only played for 35 minutes. But during that time, they were pelted with paper, keys and jelly beans.

The Beatles put on two shows at the Sam Houston Coliseum on Aug. 19, 1965. Billed as KILT's "Sixth Annual Back-to-School Show," ticket prices were $5. Russ Knight -- The Weird Beard -- was master of ceremonies.

Much has been written about their stop in Houston. The Chronicle's coverage can be found here. Images of the tickets (and the newspaper ad seen here) can be found here.

I've provided an MP3 from the show. This file contains four minutes from a recording made from the Beatles' 3:30 p.m. show. The file fades out at the beginning of "Twist and Shout." What's important is the level of screaming inside the arena leading up to when they took the stage!

Some tidbits from the local media that covered the event:

John Lennon, speaking at a press conference at the Sheraton-Lincoln hotel:

"We haven't seen much of (Texas). We've only seen Dallas and here. We nearly got killed both times."

Some girls donned maids' uniforms to sneak into the hotel:

"We haven't hired any 14-year-olds here, though," a hotel spokesman said. "We stopped them all."

A gaggle of teenagers swarmed around the Beatles' chartered airplane after it landed at Houston International Airport. Some managed to walk on the wings and knock on the windows.

"They were scared to death," said Ira Sidelle, the Beatles' company manager. "They didn't want to go out unless they could have protection."

"Terrified," said Ringo Starr.

Bayou City bloodshed

2006-08-23T01:24:00.000-04:00

"We met an automobile with a white man in it. They stopped him and Sergeant (Vida) Henry told the white man to get out of the car, but he did not get out, and all the soldiers that was up in front shot the man. I judged that about 50 shots were fired at the man."

This was a sworn statement Leroy Pinkett, an Army private, gave to Houston police.

On this day in 1917, a group of soldiers assigned to Camp Logan marched down Washington Avenue, Shepherd Drive, continued along what is now West Dallas, past Montrose and stopped near Valentine Street, where Founders' Cemetery is located today. Along the way, Houston police officers fired on the troops and vice versa. A few Houstonians, curious about the commotion, were shot dead or bayoneted.

Although tensions between the soldiers and police officers had been strained since the soldiers' arrival earlier that summer, it was rumors over the treatment of an off-duty military policeman that sparked the riot. Rather than restate the specifics of what happened that evening, I've listed some other sites that go into more detail about the event below.

But let's not forget the end results.

Five Houston police officers were killed in the melee:

Rufus H. Daniels, mounted police officer
E.G. Meinke
Horace Moody
Ross Patton, mounted police officer
Ira D. Raney, mounted police officer

Four soldiers were killed:

Capt. J.W. Mattes
Sgt. Vida Henry
M.D. Everton
Bryant W.

Eight Houstonians were killed:

Eli Smith
"Senator" Satton, barber
E.M. Jones
Earl Finley, age 16
A.R. Carstens, painter
Manuel Garredo
Fred Winkler, age 19
C.W. Wright

Military tribunals indicted 118 enlisted soldiers for their part in the riot. Of those, 110 were found guilty. Nineteen mutinous soldiers were hanged, 63 received life sentences and one was judged not competent to stand trial. No white civilians were brought to trial, the Handbook of Texas reports.

Information on the riot can be found here, here, here, and here.
Information on the general who prosecuted the rioters is contained here.
Past Bayou City History posts leading up to the riot are here and here.

A list of HPD officers killed in the line of duty can be found here.

Gone, and largely forgotten (Part 1 of 3)

2006-08-22T02:04:00.000-04:00

The following communites/townships existed in Harris County at one time. Some still do, but most are likely memories at this point. More to come.

Bay Oaks
Barker: Here's a link to a state marker.
Bordersville
Riceville
New Washington
Hamilton: "The site competed temporarily with Harrisburg for location of the Harris County seat of government..."
Pierce Junction
Eureka Mills
Minnetex
Mykawa

On the eve of violence

2006-08-21T01:28:00.000-04:00

Relations between black soldiers stationed at Camp Logan and Houstonians (especially the police) were at a breaking point.

Earlier, two black soldiers were arrested for staying out past curfew. On Aug. 21, 1917, the Houston Press reported that a black soldier boarded a streetcar on Washington Avenue and seated himself in front of a white woman.

"When the conductor asked him to observe the Jim Crow law, he pulled a dagger," the paper reported.

The man was arrested by a deputy sheriff, according to the newspaper.

The paper also reported that 3,000 black soldiers would be stationed at Camp Logan. In light of the recent incident, Harris County District Attorney John Crooker allegedly "appealed to voters to rid the town of liquor before these negroes arrive."

Crooker was more than likely siding with the prohibition movement that was in full swing at the time. Numerous news articles were dedicated to the prohibition (pros) and anti-prohibition (antis) movements.

In that same edition of the Houston Press, an anti-prohibition band stirred up a little controversy during a performance at Main Street and Preston Avenue.

"Women with prohibition banners surrounded the musicians. The band quit playing and immediately retired to the Musicians' Club rooms," the paper reported.

But the band played on. A short time later, the band was seen playing on the balcony of the Rice Hotel.

"They gathered below the balcony...and had the band quit playing because it was calling attention to the good women with their banners," the paper continued.

And the band played on again.

"Still later, the women again discovered the band in front of the Rice and surrounded it. This time, the musicians took shelter in the Rice bar. The women picketed the place and the bandsmen left the saloon one at a time."

Stormy weather

2006-08-18T03:07:00.000-04:00

Does anyone remember what happened in Houston on this day 23 years ago?

How about 91 years ago?

On Aug. 17, 1915, Houstonians were just beginning to survey the damage left by a category 2-3 hurricane that made landfall 26 miles southwest of Galveston. The island city suffered serious damage, but, thanks to the newly constructed seawall, damage was not as severe as the 1900 storm.

Still, Houston suffered heavy losses.

"Hardly a structure in the city was left whole. What the wind did not wreck the rain ruined," the Houston Press wrote.

Among the damage:

* Windows were blown out at City Hall (located where Market Square is today), drenching offices and overturning furniture.

* A large, 50-year-old oak tree in front of the county jail was stripped of most of its limbs.

* Signs, billboards and plate glass windows along Main Street were destroyed.

* Water damaged Mayor Ben Campbell's home.

* Windows at the Ford motor plant were shattered.

* Fences, trees and buildings at Bismark Park (location?) were demolished.

The Handbook of Texas reports 275 deaths as a result of the storm. In 2004, the National Hurricane Center ranked the storm 29th among the costliest tropical cyclones to hit the United States. Adjusted for inflation, damage from the 1915 storm totaled nearly $2 billion.

More photos from the 1915 hurricane can be found here.

More on what happened 23 years ago today can be found here and here.

Saved from suicide

2006-08-17T02:08:00.000-04:00

No one knows her name or the reason behind her actions.

On Saturday, July 7, 1917, a 19-year-old walked inside Kipling's drugstore at Houston and Washington avenue, the Houston Press reported.

That night, the "pretty girl...asked for a bottle of strychnine, saying that she wanted it to kill a dog."

The clerk found a bottle and gave it to her. The woman took a seat at the fountain and asked the clerk for a soda. He fixed her a drink, and then he left her to tend to some other matters in the store.

"A few minutes later, he heard her groaning and found her unconscious near the soda fountain. She had placed the poison in the soda and drunk it," the paper reported.

The woman was taken by ambulance to a hospital and given antidotes.

"She was later taken to her home in Cottage Grove," the paper concluded.

Any ideas where Cottage Grove was located would be helpful.

Seven-day forecast

2006-08-14T01:04:00.000-04:00

It seems someone lost a diary, and the folks at the Houston Daily Times were eager to find its owner.

"Several memorandums in the diary give no light as to who is the owner, but the following daily entries of the owner's wife's temper during the last week may assist the proprietor in recovering his property," the paper published, on Jan. 16, 1869.

Monday: A thick fog; no seeing through it.

Tuesday: Gloomy and very chilly; unseasonable weather.

Wednesday: Frosty, at times sharp.

Thursday: Bitter cold in the morning, red sunset, with flying clouds portending hard weather.

Friday: Storm in the morning, with pearls of thunder; clear afterwards.

Saturday: Gleams of sunshine, with a partial thaw; frost again at night.

Sunday: A slight southwester in the morning; calm and pleasant at dinner time; hurricane and earthquake at night.