Under the Influence of Brownies

Some SETX history is permanently engraved in our minds, such as the discovery of oil at Spindletop and the Battle of Sabine Pass where Richard (Dick) Dowling and his band of 45 fellow Irishman overcame all odds and defeated a 5,000-strong Union flotilla. I would also put Arthur Stilwell’s “Dream City” down as another historic event that is regularly recognized, even though not too many people will know the whole story. It is nevertheless interesting to look back at the origins of Stilwell’s “hunch.” So let us examine Arthur’s role in SETX history.
Born in Rochester, New York, to Charles and Mary Stilwell, Arthur Edward was by some accounts a “sickly child,” although this is not mentioned frequently in respectable sources. Indeed, there is not much mention at all of his early childhood in any of the sources I’ve found—at least not until his 14th year. Only later, in his own writings, would Stilwell mention certain aspects of his early life. And in those writings we find a treasure trove of just who Arthur was and what would steer him on the path to prosperity.
“All my life, even when a child, I have received messages from the spirit world and they have greatly influenced my life,” he wrote in his book Live and Grow Young (1921). Arthur Stilwell was a Spiritualist and believed that he had contact with the spirit realm. Based on his English heritage, the Brownies, as he called them, were influential in his business dealings. These “nightly visitors” even foretold his marriage to Jennie Wood:

When I was 15 years of age my life’s companion was selected for me by this choir invisible, and I was told that I would marry her when I was 19 years old, which I did. The wisdom of their selection and my appreciation of it has been the paramount factor in strengthening my faith in these leadings.
Jennie and Arthur were married on June 10, 1879 in Iona, Virginia. That same year they moved to Kansas City where Arthur took a job at a friend’s print shop. After he had recovered from a bout of typhoid fever, they left Kansas City and moved to Chicago. During this time he began a new career selling insurance for the Travelers Insurance Company, a venture that proved to be very profitable. So profitable in fact that Arthur invented a new policy called a Coupon Annuity Endowment. This was the first type of life insurance policy that gave the holder a monthly income after they reached a certain age.
In 1886 the Stilwell’s moved back to Kansas City where Arthur founded the Real Estate Trust Company, but in 1889 the real estate market took a hit. Fortunately, all was not lost. In another endeavor, Arthur formed the Kansas City Terminal Construction Company after winning a contract with the Kansas City Suburban Belt Railway. And so went his entrance into the railway industry.
In the early 1890s Stilwell began forming, building, and acquiring other rail lines in an attempt to follow through with his nightly visitors’ plans of extending a railroad to the Gulf of Mexico.
From the plan and advice received in this way I have been able to build five western railroads, 2,500 miles all together- more than any other living man has constructed. By this means I have founded forty odd cities and villages with a combined population of 125,000. I was warned by my nightly advisers not to make Galveston the terminal of the Kansas City Southern Road because that city was destined to be destroyed by a tidal wave, which prediction was fulfilled, tragically, four years later. Thereupon, I constructed the City of Port Arthur, Texas, and built the Port Arthur Ship Canal and Harbor under the same guidance, not deviating from the plans revealed to me in any way.

Arthur’s nightly advisers were certainly “accurate” according to all the writings I have seen, but one must take into account that they were all written after the fact. So take that into consideration the next time a voice in the night tells you to construct a railroad.

Interestingly, an article dated August 2014 by Judith Linsley gives a different story about how Arthur Stilwell came to build Port Arthur. Two daughters of Mark Wiess were interviewed in a Port Arthur News article on Independence Day 1948, and both Octavia Wiess Andrus and Olga May Wiess Hoopes stated that their father was the one who had pointed out just where to build the city.
Mark Wiess’ part in choosing the Port Arthur townsite was also quoted in his obituary, which appeared in the July 2, 1910 Beaumont Journal. When Stilwell was considering Sabine Pass as a terminus for his new railroad, the landowners wanted too much for the right-of-way. At that time, Wiess suggested that Stilwell buy land nearby, owned by W.P.H. McFaddin, W.W. Kyle, Sr., and his brother Valentine, partners in the Beaumont Pasture Company. Stilwell did so, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Whether it was Mark Wiess or the Brownies who pinpointed the ultimate settlement, there were certainly more players in the founding and development of Port Arthur. One of these developers was John “Bet-a-Million” Gates who, in 1899, took over the Kansas City, Pittsburg, and Gulf Railroad after forcing it into bankruptcy. He then named the company the Kansas City and Southern Railroad, which we still know today.

Now that Arthur Stilwell had been ousted from his post atop the railroad company, he moved back to Kansas City in search of other ventures. It wasn’t long before he announced plans to build another railroad but this time connecting Kansas City to the Pacific Ocean. Unfortunately this too went bust, and investors lost millions. Where were his nightly visitors? This is not known for sure, but ultimately, Arthur took a hiatus from the railroad business.

Stilwell would go on to write books, plays, and poems, all credited to his advisers. I have copies of most of his books, and they are interesting to say the least. In the one that I’ve quoted from, Live and Grow Young, Arthur explains life’s problems as well as illness and death. He further reveals the secret of longevity, but unfortunately he would die of apoplexy just seven years later, on September 26, 1928.

An additional dismal event to conclude this story features Jennie, his wife of 49 years. Thirteen days after Arthur’s death, Jennie Ann Wood Stilwell walked/jumped out of an eight-story New York hotel window. This article in the New York Times dated October 10, 1928 fills in the details:

Mrs. Arthur Edward Stilwell, widow of the railroad builder who died just two weeks ago, ended her life yesterday morning by jumping from a twelfth floor window of her apartment at 305 West End Avenue. Notes addressed to her brother-in-law and sister-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Burton W. Robb of Buffalo, said the death of her husband left nothing in life for her and requested that they dispose of her property.

Mrs. Stilwell was to have gone to Buffalo last night to make her home with the Robbs in accordance with their plans. The tickets had been bought.

Because of her despondency since the death of her husband her relatives had been apprehensive that she might attempt to end her life. Consequently when Mr. Robb noticed a light burning in her room at 5:45 A.M. he looked through the door to assure himself that all was well. He found the bed empty and a window raised. A glance out confirmed his fears. Mrs. Stilwell’s body was on the roof of a four-story building at 303 West Seventy-fourth Street.

A note, evidently prepared the night before, announced her intention to end her life. She said life was empty without her “darling,” as she referred to her husband.

Mr. Stilwell had been retired from active business for eight years before his death. He and his wife had withdrawn from their friends. During his later years Mr. Stilwell was much interested in spiritualism, an interest which his wife did not share, according to relatives.

Mrs. Stilwell, who was Miss Jennie Wood, was born in Rochester in 1860. She was married to Mr. Stilwell in 1879. A sister, Mrs. Mary Ferris of Binghamton, survives.
In accordance with her wish, no funeral services will be held. Her body will be cremated as was her husband’s.
Did the Brownies guide Arthur to prosperity here in SETX? I have no clue, but what I do know is that this is the second draft of this story. The first draft disappeared from my computer without a trace. Strange but true. One thing I have learned from this whole episode is to NEVER EVER compare an English faerie to a Scottish brownie.

Monster of the Swamp: Bigfoot in SETX?

Port Arthur News 10.31.1984

 

A few weeks ago, I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts, Extreme Wildlife Radio. (For those who do not know what a podcast is, it’s basically a radio show that you can upload to your iPod or other listening devices.) Extreme Wildlife Radio is a local podcast hosted by journalist, author, and SETX wildlife expert Chester Moore, along with Terri Werner, Director of Operations at the Tiger Creek Wildlife Refuge in Tyler, Texas.

I will start off by saying that I love the content of the show. It is, as its name suggests, about wildlife. Whether it’s big cats, black bears, wolves, or our many species of fowl in SETX, the show does a great job of promoting and presenting historic facts about our wildlife. With that said, I also love the other side of wildlife that comes up from time to time. During the week in question, the topic was “Bigfoot: A Roundtable Discussion.”

Bigfoot? What do I know of this so-called primate that has eluded visual documentation for hundreds of years? Absolutely nothing! As a child growing up in the early 70s, I remember having dreams about this creature visiting and peeking in the window. I had always wondered why I thought this—until I came across another podcast talking about the Boggy Creek Monster. I found out the movie had been released around 1974. This would fit the timeframe of my childhood puzzle, and I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my older siblings (whom I shall blame only for convenience) saw the movie, and I had overheard her description of this frightful documentary. Other than this scenario, I have never really been interested in this thing called Sasquatch, Bigfoot, or Yeti.

Well, there was that TV episode of The Million Dollar Man that . . . On second thought, let’s skip that. Oak Bluff 1

Last year, one of our SETX residents was visiting Oak Bluff Cemetery in Port Neches. He claimed to have seen, and also photographed, two “primates,” which he called Bigfoots. Unfortunately, as always, the photos are blurry, and nothing in them is distinguishable. I frequent this part of Oak Bluff Cemetery, and I also have photos. Many clear photos, in fact, of the same area where our primate friends supposedly spent an afternoon skipping rocks. Honestly, I have never seen anything other than a beautiful sunset in this bayou, but to each his own.

Sabine LighthouseSo, is there an actual documented historical record of something in our area that fits the description of a hairy man who walks, undetected for the most part, through SETX swamps—besides possibly Boudreaux or Thibodeaux? Well no, not that I believe, at least in these times, but there is an article in the Port Arthur News dated October, 31, 1984, by staff writer Peggy Slasman. Slasman had interviewed a Port Arthur resident whose father was the Sabine lighthouse keeper in 1905.

The story began as the fog rolled over the marsh, and the lighthouse keeper’s 10-year-old daughter stepped out on the porch to enjoy her favorite time of day. Unfortunately, this morning was different. The silence of the early morning was broken by movement in the marsh. She peered out over the railings, wondering what could be lurking near, when suddenly, she saw something so terrible that she screamed and fainted.

Her parents later found and revived the child. Both dismissed their daughter’s story as a figment of her wild imagination, but they couldn’t help but notice her obsession with her tale.

A month later, the lighthouse keeper was hunting in the marsh when he heard movement in the reeds. He crouched down and stared in the direction of the sound. To his dismay, there stood an eight-foot hairy, dark, and ugly “thing” that scared the lighthouse keeper so much that he ran away toward the safety of the lighthouse, forgetting his loaded rifle in his haste.

The monster was seen by others 12 times that year, but it never harmed anyone. Most Sabine residents believed it to be a bear, and that is indeed quite possible, but one can only speculate. That same year, a storm flooded the marsh, and the beast was supposedly drowned or washed out to sea. However, according to Slasman’s article, there are those who say it still lurks in the marsh . . .

So, do I believe there is a hairy primate living amongst us here in Jefferson or the lower portion of Orange County? Probably not, but you never know what lurks in places like the Big Thicket. There are many different species of animals living undisturbed in our dark forests, so it may be quite possible. With that said, I will take this opportunity to reach out to the other amateur paranormal, cryptozoologist ghost hunters out there and recommend that they take photography classes. Blurry is bad!

Legend of Bragg Road (Saratoga Light)

Bragg Road

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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