Remembering Roy

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On July the 10th, I attended a workshop about preserving oral history. The workshop focused specifically on interviewing World War 2 veterans. I found this workshop both fascinating and helpful in respect of historical data gathering. I love history, and have spoken to some people in my life, who are no longer here, and from whom I believe we all could have learned a thing or two from. Their thoughts and comments are still recorded in my memory, but alas, I wish I would have been more apt to record their views, history, and ways of life.

One person, who was a major influence in my life, was a Louisiana-born resident (Leesville, La) named Roy. He was my neighbor when I lived in Port Arthur, Texas. Roy was a product of the Depression and lived his life accordingly. He also lived the way Roy wanted; doing what Roy wanted to do, and not bothering about anyone else.

Roy may have come across as mean and ornery at times, but under that gruff demeanor, he had a heart of gold. Roy would help anyone who showed up on his doorstep. And there were many who showed up.

Roy was a carpenter by trade, and a farmer by habit. He grew up in the 1920s and worked on his parents’ farm from a young age. He spent countless hours tending the fields and learning the art of agriculture. (And there is an art to it as he explained to me one day.)

He also attended school, learning the basics—even some Latin. Later in life, he had told me that he had dropped out of school for a short time, but a teacher convinced him to go back and thus changed his life. Roy was no scholar, but he learned early in life that hard work and an education (in whatever field you were working) could only help you succeed. And he did; working in numerous fields in his 90-odd year lifespan.

One thing that I remember from our numerous talks was his involvement at the New Orleans shipyard during WWII. Roy helped build many a ship to the particular specifications of the naval fleet.

“Everything had to be perfect or they would make you do it again and again,” I remember him saying. I also remember Roy telling of ships that had headed out the Mississippi delta and out to sea, only to end up at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico courtesy of a German U-boat torpedo.

In 1950, Roy and his wife moved to Port Arthur where he worked as a carpenter for many years. He was a member of the local union, but as I stated earlier, Roy did what Roy wanted, and that did not always sit well with others.

During a strike by the carpenters’ union, Roy decided to build his brother-in-law’s home across the street. To certain union members, this was somehow a violation of strike rules. Roy, defiantly, built the house anyway, with a gun on his hip just in case the union made good on their threats. Fortunately, those individuals never followed through, and left Roy alone to finish the house. (If I remember correctly, the total cost of the house was $750. No wonder the union was perturbed.)

Roy went on to work for a prominent home builder in the area, but then started his own business building homes. Many trusted Roy and knew that they were getting their money’s worth for his services.

Like I said earlier, he was a child of the Depression, and he threw nothing away. He had numerous tools, tractors, and other artifacts that would entice any picker. I can remember a Jefferson County extension agent one day arriving at Roy’s house and noticing the 60-plus-year-old Farmall tractor, still in use. It was as if the early memories of his childhood came flooding back to him. I knew he wanted that tractor, and even asked to buy it, but that was Roy’s pride and joy. He would never sell it.

Roy had many “play prettys” as he called them. The Farmall tractor, a Ford tractor, two forklifts, and a backhoe, all of which he used constantly. I remember I had bought a chainsaw that extended 15 feet out. It was great for standing on the ground and trimming branches 15 feet up, but Roy had a better idea. Since there were webworms in his pecan trees, he thought it would be a good idea to hoist me up on a forklift 23 feet in the air with saw in hand. This would be the only time. My tree-trimming days were over before they started.

Roy was an avid farmer; he grew corn, tomatoes, butter beans, squash, potatoes, etc. In the later years in which I knew him, this was his life. There was never a day gone by without seeing him on that red Farmall tractor, tilling up new ground for planting.

Roy also had a healthy obsession with bees. He taught me that, without bees, there would be no agriculture. Something had to pollinate all the crops, and with no bees, it would be impossible to maintain production. Whether it’s your own little plot or a commercially grown one, these little critters hold the key to our existence.

I knew Roy for a little under 20 years, and as I said before, he was a big influence in my life. He taught me much, and I will always remember those times. He wasn’t a scholar, he wasn’t a professor, but in his own way, he was my teacher. He taught me the old ways, and how things should be. I will never forget him.

Vuylsteke House

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Port Arthur, Texas, has a tendency to hide its precious gems solely on the pages of its numerous brochures and annual tourism publications. Most residents (and ex-residents) have no idea of the great places that the Port Arthur Historical Society has to offer. And, to me, that’s a shame.

In my earlier post, “Pompeiian Villa,” I gave you just a small taste of Port Arthur’s historical places. I uncovered Port Arthur’s next hidden treasure this past week amid torrential rainfall: it is an intriguing home that I believe we could all relate to.

On arrival at the Vuylsteke Home, I was happy, to say the least, that the week-long downpours had decided to take a short break. It gave me just enough time to squeeze in two short tours—the second of which will be discussed at a later date.

 

The Vuylsteke Home was built in 1905 by J.E. Alexander in the space of 75 days for Adrianus Jacobus Maria Vuylsteke. Mr. Vuylsteke had immigrated to the U.S. in 1893 and moved to Texas in 1894. After his marriage to Nettie Minerva White in 1898, they settled in Jefferson County (which was to become Port Arthur). Mr. Vuylsteke was appointed to the Dutch Consulate for Port Arthur in 1906.

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

While taking the tour, I found this house to be similar to the Galveston homes that I toured in May. It’s just a pleasant place to visit, and a house that I would love to have as my own residence. Enjoy the photos!

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/sets/72157630635215818/

  If you would like to make an appointment to tour this house, please call 409-984-6101. The Vuylsteke Home tour is free, and anyone who loves early SETX architecture won’t be disappointed.

 

The Destructive Side of History

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Southeast Texas has had its share of storms of the tropical nature throughout history. Many of our residents have suffered greatly at times, but for the most part, they have soldiered on and rebuilt time and time again. In recent history, we have seen firsthand the suffering of our residents and their enormous losses due to the viciousness of these monsters. Two hurricanes in particular, Rita in 2005 and Ike in 2008, brought devastation to our area in a span of three years. Both were catastrophic for very different reasons. Rita’s fury battered Southeast Texas with winds in excess of 120 mph, while Ike surged the waters of the Gulf of Mexico inland, ravaging many lives and properties from Galveston to Cameron Parish, Louisiana. Through both storms, Sabine Pass became part of the Gulf of Mexico for a short time under surges of ten feet (Rita) and twelve feet of water (Ike). The Bolivar Peninsula, untouched by Rita, was totally destroyed by Ike.

Before Hurricane Rita, there had been a 48-year absence of major storms hitting directly in my part of Southeast Texas (The Golden Triangle), but these years weren’t without incident. Hurricane Alicia battered Galveston with brutal force in 1983, although it did little damage to my area. You can also add both tropical storms named Allison into the mix. In 1989, tropical storm Allison dumped 25 inches of rain over Southeast Texas causing $560 million in damage. Twenty-two years later, tropical storm Allison would make her return to Southeast Texas, this time dumping 40 inches of rain on Houston in just a few days and causing $5.5 billion in damage. The year 2001 would be the last to see the name Allison used by the Hurricane Center.

Hurricane Carla, a major hurricane in 1961, hit Freeport head on, but it also devastated many on the upper Texas and Louisiana coastlines. Parts of the city of Groves were flooded by this malicious and deadly storm. I had always thought it to be from the storm surge, and I guess in a way it was, but I found it odd that Groves was flooded but the city of Port Arthur was not (before the levee was built). I found my answer this week while talking to an early resident of Port Arthur who now lives in Nederland. Like Hurricane Ike, the Gulf waters rose, but as the storm’s eye hit further down the coast, the surge wasn’t as bad here. What was bad was the torrential rain north of the coast. With the high tides and storm surge from the Gulf of Mexico acting as a damn for the run off of Carla’s tropical feeder bands, the water had nowhere to go but into the low-lying parts of the city of Groves, via the Neches River.

Other storms have made their mark as well: Audrey (1957),     the storm of 1915, which flooded most of downtown Port Arthur and the surrounding low lying areas, and of course no one could forget the worst natural disaster to hit our shores in the history of the United States—the Galveston Hurricane of 1900. A very good book by Erik Larson called Isaac’s Storm chronicles in detail the events leading up to landfall and the life of the chief meteorologist of Galveston at the time, Isaac Cline.

One year stands out in Texas’s history as well as our own—1886 was a year much like 2008 for Texas. During the season, four of the twelve storms made landfall along the Texas Gulf Coast, two of which affected Southeast Texas. The first made landfall at High Island on June 14. Looking through the records, I have found no accounts of the damage caused by this 100 mph, Category 2 (on the Saffir–Simpson scale) storm caused as it passed through the area.

Mother Nature’s next installment for the Texas coast then turned toward Matagorda Bay and the historic town of Indianola when a mammoth storm approached its shores. Indianola was no stranger to hurricanes; it had already experienced a Category 3 storm in 1875. The town was rebuilt in 1876 and again served as a port where German immigrants entered Texas. But on August 20, 1886, that all ended. The town was totally destroyed by a Category 4 hurricane with winds reaching in excess of 150 mph. The town was never rebuilt.

The third storm to hit Texas that year made landfall in Brownsville on September 23 as a moderate Category 1 hurricane but did not affect Southeast Texas.

Here in Southeast Texas, the trend of minor storms came to an end on October 12,1886, as a Category 3 hurricane ravaged our area. Winds reaching over 120 mph and a storm surge of over ten feet flattened all that stood in its way. The small township of Aurora (the predecessor of Port Arthur) was completely destroyed along with multiple sawmills and homes in the surrounding area.

In Southeast Texas hurricanes have visited us in the past and will surely visit us in the future, but one thing is for certain—the residents of Orange County to Galveston County will meet the challenges head on. Our feisty bunch of land owners are a breed apart, and they cherish their coastal living. Just ask a Bolivar Peninsula or a Sabine Pass resident, and you will hear the same defiance in their voices as those of the early settlers. We will rebuild!

To see more photos please click on the links below.

http://llelywynn.com/hurricane_rita.htm

http://llelywynn.com/hurrike.htm

Joseph Grigsby

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Certainly the  little town of Port Neches has seen its fair share of history: from being the habitat of two Indian tribes, to becoming the home of one of the founding pioneers in Southeast Texas history—all within a 1,500 year time span. The latter individual, Joseph Grigsby, who is the subject of this post, played a major role in the early development of Jefferson County.

Joseph was born in Loudoun County, Virginia, on September 24th, 1771, to Nathaniel and Elizabeth Grigsby. At the age of 15, his family moved onto a 1,000 acre land grant in Nelson County, Kentucky. It was there that he met Sarah (Sally) Mitchell Graham whom he married in June of 1798 in Bardstown, Kentucky. And it was in Bardstown that they started their family, which eventually included 13 children.

In 1817, the Grigsby family moved to Daviess County, Kentucky, where Joseph obtained 1,000 acres on the Green River from which he made a prosperous living growing cotton. In 1828, the family moved again. This time into the Mexican province of Texas, to Lorenzo de Zavala’s colony in Jasper County.

After the Texas Revolution, which ended in April 1836, Grigsby built a large cotton plantation together with a boat landing for trade on the Neches River in Jefferson County. This became a popular trading stop for flatboats. The community, which grew from this enterprise, became known as Grigsby’s Bluff (now Port Neches, Texas).

Grigsby’s prosperity continued. After acquiring 10,000 acres spanning from Mesquite Point, in Sabine Pass, to where modern-day Port Neches lies, he became the wealthiest man in Jefferson County. In 1837, he and three other prominent citizens gave a total of 200 acres of land to the state of Texas, which laid out the town site for Beaumont, Texas.

Grigsby was elected Land-Office Commissioner for Jefferson County, and was a representative in the Second, Third, and Fifth congresses of the Republic of Texas. He died in September of 1841, and was buried on his plantation at Grigsby’s Bluff.

Joseph Grigsby adds yet another piece to the vast puzzle of our heritage as we continue Rediscovering Southeast Texas.

Pompeiian Villa

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I recently took a tour of the Pompeiian Villa in Port Arthur, Texas. I must say, it is a most interesting place to visit. The tour guide was informative and a joy to listen to. But the experience got me thinking about the history of the place and the players who made the elegant structure what it is.

 

The Pompeiian Villa is an authentic replica of a 79 A.D. Pompeiian home, built by Isaac Ellwood (the “Barbed Wire King”) in 1900. It was one of three structures planned to be built on the eight-acre stretch of lakefront property in Port Arthur. The second home was John Warner “Bet-a-Million” Gates’ 20-room Georgian Revival mansion, a pre-civil war “Gone with the Wind”-style home with a carriage house at the back. A third home was planned by an investor, Mr. James Hopkins (president of the Diamond Match Company, St. Louis, Missouri), but sadly Mr. Hopkins could not come up with an idea for a suitable structure so the land between the two aforementioned homes was never built upon.

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

Mr. Hopkins never lived in the Villa but continued to own it for a further two years. During this time, he rented it out to a Mr. James Guffey, who was one of the financiers behind the successful second drilling attempt in the area, which we all know as Spindletop, or the Lucas Gusher. Mr. Guffey also constructed the first oil refinery in Port Arthur.

 

In 1903, Mr. Hopkins traded the Villa to Mr. George Craig in exchange for $10,000 worth of Texas Company stock, which represented 10 percent of the newly formed company. The Craig family lived in the Villa until 1946. During that time, the Craigs kept the Villa true to its original design and, aside from doing routine maintenance and painting, did not change a thing. The Craigs then sold it to Captain Arne Pederson , who occupied it for 19 years.

 

In 1965, the Villa’s future looked bleak. It had been on the market for twelve years, for five of which it had lain vacant, and there were no buyers. It had deteriorated much since its glory days and was even in danger of being torn down. Luckily, the demolition never happened thanks to the Port Arthur Historical Society’s purchase of the Villa for $25,000. Years of renovation followed, and the Villa was opened to the public in the early 70s.

As you tour the Villa, you notice that each room has a different theme. This adds to the rich history that Isaac Ellwood created so long ago in the marshlands of early Port Arthur. There are many pieces of art, relics, and furniture, which have been donated to the museum over the years. The Pompeiian Villa is the sole surviving beacon of Arthur Stilwell’s “Dream City,” and a definite treasure to our area.

For touring information see below:

1953 Lakeshore drive Port Arthur, Texas

Telephone # 409-983-5977

Hours: As of August 18, 2014, Pompeiian Villa hours will be Monday thru Friday 1pm – 5pm.

Please visit the Museum of the Gulf Coast’s website for special Saturday hours at the Villa

Group tours by reservation.

Admission: $2.00

 

There were Stalags in SETX?

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By 1943, the war and its effects had been felt by people throughout the world.  Here in Southeast Texas, our brave men and women were no exception. Without hesitation, they answered the call to duty on three levels, doing their part in both the Pacific and European theatres as well as on the manufacturing front. Sacrifice and conservation were given freely in support of the cause. Because of the need for wartime laborers, other sectors, such as the timber and agriculture industries, suffered.

At this same time, the number of  German and Italian prisoners of war was increasing, especially in North Africa.  The surrender of 150,000 prisoners from General Rommel’s AfrikaKorps resulted in their shipment to the United States where they remained incarcerated until the end of the war.

The Geneva Convention of 1929 required that prisoners of war be located in a similar climate to that in which they were captured. This made Texas the ideal place for the AfrikaKorps prisoners who had been captured in North Africa. In fact at the time, Texas had twice as many POW camps than any other state. In August 1943 there were 12 main camps, but by June 1944 there were 33. The need to house, feed, and care for these POW’s was massive, but Texas embraced the challenge.

In Southeast and East Texas, the arrival of (mostly German) POW’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Smaller camps were erected throughout the region to aid the timber and rice farmers. Three sites, the China Branch camp, the Tyrrell Park (Beaumont Camp), and in Orange County (off Womack Road) housed prisoners who worked on the rice farms under the Texas Extension Service, Texas Agriculture and Mechanical University.

Throughout the camps’ existence, there were escape attempts, especially those near the Mexican border, but for the most part the prisoners lived out their incarceration without incident in Southeast Texas.

I would like to thank the Jefferson County Historical Commission for educating me of this history. I had no idea there were stalag’s in Southeast Texas.

If you would like to find out more about, or become a member of the Jefferson County Historical Commission, click here:

   http://www.co.jefferson.tx.us/historical_commission/HISTCOMM.htm

Kate Magill Dorman

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kate dorman

Many interesting people have graced our Southeast Texas history, but few could ever match the fearlessness and sheer determination of a four-foot ten-inch Irishwoman named Kate Magill Dorman.

Kate arrived in Southeast Texas in the year 1851. Although most historians believe her to have lived in Sabine as early as 1847, census records in her home state of Georgia show both Kate and her husband, Arthur Magill, were still living there as late as 1850.

In 1852, Kate and her husband built the Catfish hotel. It was a two-story dwelling located about three hundred yards from Fort Griffin. The hotel housed around two dozen permanent residents, along with the standard passing trade comprising merchants and seamen.

The hotel had a wharf where steamers would dock regularly to indulge in the fare at the Catfish hotel’s well-known and popular eatery. During the civil war, one patron, a certain William Berry Duncan (Confederate Officer, Liberty County Sheriff, and cattleman) wrote that he made frequent visits to the hotel, sometimes leaving his post at Grigsby’s Bluff, to dine and enjoy what he called “some tolerable good music.”

On November 2, 1859 tragedy struck. Arthur Magill, by then the chief engineer on the T.J. Smith, a Neches River mail packet, was killed when its boiler exploded. This left Kate alone to care for their two young daughters. Kate would later sue the Captain H.C. Smith, the owner of the T.J.Smith, for her deceased husband’s wages. This would be one of many legal confrontations between the two.

H.C. Smith wasn’t the only thorn in Kate’s side. One day a woman nicknamed “Dutch Margaret” entered the Catfish Hotel while Kate was serving meals. Dutch Margaret proceeded to vilify and yell obscenities at Kate in front of all the diners. Kate immediately retaliated with her own set of obscenities before resuming her duties. Unbeknownst to Kate, three of her friends met Dutch Margaret on the street, and caned her with a parasol(Umbrella).

Dutch Margaret filed a lawsuit on the grounds she had suffered a miscarriage from the caning. The plantiff’s attorney H.C. Pedigo, questioned the legality of a juror named Will J. Collins, and the claim that he had actually lived in Jefferson County. This resulted in the first survey of West Jefferson County line. The case was postponed until Mr. Collins’ legitimacy as a county resident was verified, but it was eventually thrown out. Dutch Margaret gave birth to a son three months later.

In 1860 Kate married a widowed friend of her deceased husband. His name was Captain John Dorman, and he was the master of the Neches River cotton steamer Doctor Massie.

In July of 1862, the yellow fever epidemic hit Sabine thanks to a vessel which ran the blockade put in place by the Federals. At least one thousand people deserted the area afraid of what was known as the “Yellow Jack”. The fever killed a hundred people in Sabine and Beaumont combined forty of which were Confederate soldiers.

With the tenants of the Catfish Hotel fleeing and nearly everyone else in Sabine escaping the dreaded disease, Kate stood strong. With no regard for her own health, Kate, along with her two friends, Sarah Vosburg and Sarah Ann King, made the hotel into a makeshift hospital to care for the sick and dying.

In October of the same year, 50 Federal troops came ashore in Sabine with a howitzer. They were on their way to burn the Confederate cavalry barracks. While marching through Sabine, they confiscated Capt. Dorman’s horse and cart in order to mount the howitzer on it.

While witnessing this, Kate’s Irish temper boiled. Again, without regard for the consequences, she began shaking her fist in the air and scolding the Federal invaders, telling them she hoped the Confederate boys would kill every last one of them before they got back and, if she had 25 men, she could take out Federals and their cannon herself.

After the Federals had burned down the Confederate barracks and stable, they marched through Sabine again, this time however, returning Capt. Dorman’s horse and cart with a word of warning, that if he did not keep his “damn wife’s mouth shut,” they would hang him. Futhermore, if she did not apologize to them, they would burn the hotel. Kate declared she would see them in Hell first, and they could set fire to it if they so chose.

A week later, the Federals sent another patrol ashore. This time, they burned a quarter of the town, including a sawmill, and some residences, but left the Catfish Hotel untouched.

On September 8th, 1863, the Federals attempted another invasion of Sabine. The town and 47 Irish defenders station at Fort Griffin came under heavy shelling from the 18-gun armada. However, Kate and friend Sarah Vosburg, who had been preparing hot meals of meat, doughnuts, and coffee, braved the gunnery shells and loaded the same horse and cart that only a year before had been confiscated by the Federals and used against the Confederate troops. Kate and Sarah rode to the fort then unloaded their food, together with a gallon of whiskey to the Irish defenders.

Eventually, under the direction of  26 year-old Lt. Dick Dowling, the invasion was squashed courtesy of the cannoneers’ deadly accuracy. Three hundred prisoners were taken along with two gunboats. The casualties at Fort Griffin? Zero.

Not much is known about the feisty lady after her participation in the Battle of Sabine Pass. However, we do know that Kate and John Dorman lived out their lives in Sabine. The Captain died in 1886, three months before a major hurricane hit on October 12 and destroyed the whole town. Unsurprisingly, Kate survived the hurricane and lived until December 24, 1897. Both she and her captain are buried side by side in the Sabine Pass cemetery. A plaque was erected in her honor, at the head of her grave, acknowledging her part in our rich Southeast Texas history.

 

38th Galveston tour of homes

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On the opening day of the 38th Annual Galveston tour of Homes, the weather could not have been any better. It was a bit warm on this May spring day but the nice breeze made up for it. From Port Neches I made my way across the Bolivar Peninsula admiring all the newly constructed beach houses that have been replaced since Hurricane Ike devastated all of Southeast Texas September 13, 2008. I stand in awe of all the people of our little space on the planet and how they faced their devastation head on. Most here not only returned their life and property back to what it was before but enhanced and bettered their way of life. That goes out to those affected by that hideous storm.

I arrived at the ferry just after 9:40 am. Luck seemed to be on my side as I drove up and was motioned to board the vessel. The tour would start at 10am sharp and I didn’t want to be late because I knew it would be crowded on the first day. I wanted to see as much as I could because I didn’t know if I would be able to finish the tour the following week.

The ferry ride was swift. I disembarked and headed to the first home. While driving I realized I had the ticket, the receipt for the ticket, but I had no idea where the homes were, nor the addresses of any of them. Oops, luckily the android phone deemed itself worthy and I found the closest address to begin my tour.

Note that I will only be giving the historic names and not the addresses since all the properties are privately owned. If you want an in depth version please go to their website at: http://www.galveston.com/ghfhomestour/

At the beginning of the tour I found myself waiting in line for a short time, with no fault to the volunteers. There were plenty of anxious people ready for the tour and I admit I was one. I had taken the tour the year before and was utterly hooked into the history of what these precious dwellings had to offer. Of course this year’s tour was no exception.

The August J. Cottage was built in 1897 by its namesake. August was a real estate broker of German descent. I enjoyed the nice porch, the stained glass, and just a feeling of brightness the house emitted. The current owner has done a wonderful job of keeping this property grand and it was a joy to visit.

The next treasure on the list was the Josephine Drouet House, circa 1898. This house was built after the death of her husband Sebastian Drouet. Through the years it had been moved several times finally settling at its current location and having a total renovation in 2005.

Most of the houses on the tour had similar features. The longleaf pine floors, the glass window atop of doors (This always makes me think back to my time spent at St. James school, Port Arthur, Texas), the stained glass, and the brightness of the rooms. With every tour I found myself yearning to relocate or at least to have a second residence, one day, on the island. This unfortunately is a dream that will not be met in the near future but one can dream can’t one?

My next tour was through the Louis and Magaret Wenzel Cottage circa 1870, and the Robert and Carrie Palliser House, circa 1895. Both were a pleasure to walk through. I noticed on these tours that the first floor was usually referred to as the basement. Most of the residents made excellent modern hideaways out of their basements/ first floor to which I was envious.

As I waited in line for the next tour, I flipped through the Galveston Historic Homes Tour Guide. I learned about their Bike tour, their Tree Sculpture tour (Which I have never taken but have seen some of the sculptures and it would be a tour worth taking). I learned there would be Mint Julep’s at the Menard House on May 12th. At the end of the page there was small advertisement for the 1838 Menard House. Galveston’s oldest surviving residential home will offer ticket holders a Special $5 only on May 5th.

I have been trying to explore the Menard house for over a year and was determined to accomplish my goal, but first the Christian Wolfer Tenant Cottage, circa 1891 was to be explored.

As the line drew nearer I finally made it to the porch. The volunteer explained the history of this house and the recent devastation it sustained from Hurricane Ike. The house was moved 17 blocks to its current location and was completely restored in February 2010. This house is known as the Green Revival House. The guide stated that this house was the first historic building in the nation to be certified LEED for homes platinum. (LEED= Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design)

I was told before entering I needed to take my shoes off. The current owners didn’t want people walking through their abode with shoes. I do know some cultures do not allow the wearing of shoes in their homes, but in this case the volunteers all had shoes on.  The floors were the same as the others. There were no expensive rugs or anything that I saw that my shoes would be detrimental toward. All the same it was a short tour and found it odd to walk through a house with 9 other people shoeless. While writing this on Saturday the 12th I can only gather that the owners of this dwelling were having an anxiety attack with all the rain that has fallen on a tour day. That’s a bunch of wet feet.

As I put my shoes on and hurried to my truck I was truly excited for my next endeavor. The Menard House is the oldest house in Galveston and a dwelling rich Texas history. It was built in 1838 by Michel B. Menard, one of the founders of City of Galveston.  The house was used as his residence and office for real estate purchases. It is now rented out for public events and open to self-tour on certain occasions, such as days of lectures, or other events in the nearby Hall.

One of the pluses of this house was being a self-tour. Since it was off the beaten path and not part of the regular home tour there were no lines. I would pay an extra $5 extra for no lines. Another plus was how they have put some of the historical artifacts on display along with a description of the period.

To my knowledge there are no normal hours of operation for set tours. In all, this house for me was a joy that I intend to learn more about its history and attend their lecture series starting in June.

One thing I did find out on this tour was that as the old song goes 1 may be the loneliest number but it will get you to the head of the line on a tour. I was the 15th person back in line waiting to tour the John L. Darragh Tennant House, circa 1886, I heard one of the volunteers say there was room for one more on the current tour. She called out for anyone touring alone. Luckily I fit the bill and skipped ahead, saving me at least 30 minutes.

This was my second favorite house of the tour. There is also a gated park/garden accompanying this house. Here I found out the woes of a volunteer for this type of tour. I have volunteered a few times and do not have the knowledge of how things work yet. I do know business, and what happens when employees/ volunteers don’t show up. The whole scenario at this house was a bit tense. Volunteers, if I have gotten my facts straight, were to do 3 hour shifts. Let’s just say you have 6 volunteers at any time in the house. This would make 12 volunteers per house times 10. That would make the total of at least 120 volunteers. This is a huge task to put on and it makes me appreciate the planning, the volunteers, and the sheer determination of putting on a tour on this scale.

Upon leaving the Darragh Tennant House I looked at the map and noticed the next house was 2 and a half blocks away. I proceeded to walk to the next property, which was the Louis and Anita Runge House circa 1916. This house was a bit more elegant than the previous 8 that I viewed.

As I walked up the stone steps to the front door I noticed a volunteer becoming worried about one particular visitor for the next tour. This woman was making her way in line aided by a walker. He knew that she would have trouble maneuvering through the house and took it upon himself to find a solution to help her.

Note that this tour, although environmentally friendly really cannot possibly be made easily accessed for the handicapped. One must remember that these are private dwellings and built in a flood zone. Yes there are stairs and plenty of them.

The woman was on the next tour after me and she did see the house thanks to her will, determination, and the help of a caring volunteer who made it a point to help her up and down the many steps and stairs of this property to explore this amazing home.

After the tour I walked back through the neighborhood to my truck and headed for the final destination on my tour. The McKinney- McDonald House circa 1890 is a restoration in progress. The Galveston Historical Foundation purchased this house in January of 2011 to save it from being demolished because of major fire damage in 1993. It has been vacant and unattended since. It has been gutted, except for the spiral staircase that did not seem to be damaged in the fire, and ready for restoration. I hope to see this property after the restoration is complete.

This concluded my tour of historical Galveston. I felt touring 10 houses in 6 hours was pretty amazing feat. My only regret was that I could not do a pictorial tour and show all the amazing things that these owners have done with the properties, but I do respect their privacy on the matter and thank them for inviting us into their houses (Even if we were not a loud to wear shoes in a certain property.)

As I drove down Broadway, headed to Houston, something caught my eye. While passing Galveston’s historic cemetery I was stunned by all the brilliant color protruding out amongst the old graves. I quickly turned the truck around and headed straight for the cemetery. I don’t know who planted the wildflowers throughout the cemetery, but as you will see in my attached photos, it was nothing more than wonderful. What a way to end a great day of rediscovering some of Southeast Texas’ historical past.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/25032584@N05/sets/72157629616094300/

 

If you are interested in taking the tour or other tours the Galveston Historical Foundation has to offer please visit their website for details at:

http://www.galvestonhistory.org