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January 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
[Local information taken from longer article.]
Sitting here at my Corona when the years' memories give me blossoms, I have a feeling that the experiences of the past should be used in some way to smooth the path that is before me. Resolutions? Just things to be broken. Empty promises to one's self. Many a time at close of a year I have solemnly resolved to eschew tobacco, liquor, gambling, women, Oh, la, la! Along comes a smoker and hands out a cigar and I fall. Another fellow offers a gin cocktail and I gulp it down. I hear the hum of a roulette wheel and I shoot a chip. At sight of a beautiful woman, I, like St. Anthony, take a tumble. Away goes resolutions, so what's the use?
Starting the work of building the causeway between Palacios and Collegeport offers a chance for some man to have his name placed among the immortals. Who will it be? I don't know, but I am able to guess. I don't know how long the Palacios Chamber of Commerce will sit idly by gazing at the pavilion and seawall and allow the best trade-bringer the town every had go by default. They feel too smug with what has been done, but some day they will awaken and learn that the parade has passed. Who among them will have his name on a bronze tablet? The coming year presents great possibilities which if grasped easily will bring to the people of this county much more profit, comfort, advance than they have ever enjoyed. Who will lead? Maybe the son of Mrs. Taulbee, who is at this time making grand delivery. I am not concerned about national affairs for the Republicans will take care of that. I am not interested in state affairs, for the Democrats will meet and wrangle and warble and leave another dirty mess. It is Matagorda County that has my attention. The causeway and extensions of the road to Matagorda, the road to Portsmouth, some lateral roads to accommodate farmers, settling of our vacant lands with new people. We need two hundred thousand. I would like to see Palacios with 40,000 and Bay City with 41,000, just enough so she would not be too snooty. The man who undertakes to bring about these things will have his name not only in bronze, but inscribed in the memories of future folk. He will be an immortal in Matagorda County history. Just a few rambling thoughts as the year fades. It is time to go back and take another leap.
The Hugo Kundinger family received a Christmas gift in the presence of Mrs. Kundinger's sister, Mrs. C. A. Moore of Cumberland, Ohio. Mrs. Moore plans to stay until the flowers bloom on the banks of the Ohio.
Collegeport did have a tree Tuesday evening. It was a big tree, for Elliott Curtis selected it, and you know Elliott. Santa Claus was impersonated by the same Elliott, and therefore we had a big, husky Santa. Beautifully decorated and loaded with gifts, no wonder the kiddies were excited. A fine program in form of a pageant was given, much to the delight of the audience. It's a fine idea--this Christmas tree business.
Wednesday morning, as has been the custom for many years, the Hurds came with greetings and gifts, among them a big box filled with carrots, turnips, radishes, onions, all from the Hurd garden.
Us Homecrofters were liberally treated by Santa, perhaps much better then we deserved. The miserable wretch received 13 1/2 dozen clothespins, a very useful gift. Wednesday night we were the guests of the Hurd family for a radio concert and a few tanks of "good to the last drop." Tall candles fluttered and gleamed before a beautiful tree and the fireplace all a blaze with dancing flames sent welcoming shadows about the room.
"As the organ softly played at twilight Sitting before the dancing flames of fire, Our hearts were filled with delight, Our souls with passionate desire For the finer things of life.
"And the organ softly played at twilight And swells in grand crescendo Life seems to be more right And in the tones of soft diminuendo We find a new and glowing delight In the finer things of life.
"As the organ softly plays at twilight We hear the voice of olden friends, And see the love in faces bright, We pray to God that it never ends-- Friendship is the fine thing of life."
--Fragments From Hack.
Among the flowers left by those sweet burglars Thanksgiving Day was a can with the label Cocomalt. One day, thinking I would have a cup of Cocomalt, I opened the can and found it filled with salted pecan meats. This is a clue, and all I have to do is to find the tree which bore the nuts, then follow who picked the nuts and to whom sold and presto, I have the swell burglars. Many a crime has been solved by a slenderer clue, so I am hopeful. I bet the burglars read this column and watch my attempts to solve the riddle.
December 20th Leanna, our colored neighbor, brought us a nice lot of ripe tomatoes and enough green ones for a green tomato pie and picked that day fresh from the vines.
Judge and Mrs. F. H. Jones, with the two daughters, Marian and Charlotte, were here Tuesday calling on old time friends. Mrs. Jones will spend the winter in this balmy (but today chilly) Southland. The daughters return to their homes in San Diego and Cleveland.
I received perhaps one hundred Christmas cards from Maine to California, many of them would be interesting to the Tribune readers, but here is one written in the hand of the author that is worth reading for its sweetness:
"Dear Loved Ones: Here's an effort to send you what you are forever giving, unbounded love and best wishes, unsullied happiness and good cheer. When frankincense and myrrh were laid at the feet of the Christ child and the cost not recorded mankind received a pattern for manifesting love. As you pour your lives out for your friends and count not the cost, so also do we wish we might do as well by you."
After reading such a glorious Christmas message, how can a person hesitate to pour out love and joy to the writer? The many remembrances from our host of friends all over America have made this Christmas one of special happiness and we are content.
Here comes Rev. Paul Engle with gifts, including a basket of fruit. He tried to make it to our place for a Christmas Eucharist, but was delayed at the many other places.
Mrs. Burr DeWald (Fay Wood) spent the day with the Hugo Kundinger family. Dining with the Haisley family and her two small children, Mr. Haisley asked the blessing and forgot to add the "amen." The little four-year-old waited patiently and at last said, "Say amen if you are through."
Friday we were honored by the presence of Mr. and Mrs. James Louis Duffy and small daughter at dinner. The old oaken board around which for forty years many friends have assembled was graced with a beautiful vase of flowers guarded by tall red candles. Decorations in red and green, my favorite colors, and the service a la Homecroft was generous and satisfying. The same evening we in turn were honored with a dinner, en famile, in the sweet Hurd home on the bayshore. We regretted the absence of the master of the house. All who know the artistic touch of Mrs. Hurd know that table decorations and service were beautiful. Gleaming glass reflecting the light from numerous candles gave a soft and gentle light to the scene. I was especially interested in a generous tank of noodles, and, thanks to the hostess, I was liberally supplied with this succulent and nourishing dish, a dish that was first used by the gods. Dinner closed with a generous serving of glorious mince pie. With cigars, sitting by the big fireplace filled with big logs and listening to a splendid radio, I felt that it was a happy closing of a blissful week.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, January 2, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
What follows was reported to me by Miss Imogene Powell of the J. Walter Thompson Company, Chicago, Ill. It is of historical interest. Miss Powell was a leader in the reproduction of this episode during the 1935 Cheese week.
"One and one half inches of clearance between the White House gates, in other words," said the vice president of the J. Walter Thompson Co., "hinged the success or failure of the presentation of the mammoth cheese to the President of the United States. Exactly! and in consideration of the 1935 cheese week battle which was won on this slight differential and a number of seemingly trivial one penny nails, this story of the Washington scene is presented.
First of all, the presentation of 1250 pounds of cheese to the President was the climax, the crux, the big idea of the cheese week publicity plan for 1935. If it were won, all was won, if lost, all was lost. Enough to make even the brassiest press agent tremble in his boots. Like all major campaigns, it seemed a simple enough idea at first! It had the beginning during cheese week 1934, when, rambling around newspaper morgues in Washington, I noted clippings from Washington papers of 1802, telling the story of the first mammoth cheese ever made in America. That first mammoth, weighing 1250 pounds, was made in Massachusetts under the direction of a Baptist minister, John Leland, a devoted follower of Jefferson. The milk for the cheese was brought to an old cider mill by the members of Dr. Leland's congregation, and when the curd had been cut, and the cheese cured, a ceremony of dedication was held over it. Then, Dr. Leland, donning his frock coat, cocked hat and ulster, put the 1250 pound cheese onto a sleigh and himself drove it to Washington over 500 miles of snow fields. That was Christmas of 1801, in the days when there was snow in Washington at that season of the year. Six white horses were hitched to a sleigh, and they clattered briskly up to the White House steps, where Thomas Jefferson, long gray hair ruffling in the breeze, came out to receive the cheese from Dr. Leland. In behalf of the Republican ladies of Massachusetts (Republicans at that time being the Democrats of this, and vice-versa) the first mammoth cheese ever made in America was presented to Thomas Jefferson. That cheese was cut and served at a large New Year's reception, along with biscuits and American port, to all the members of the houses of Congress. Subsequently, it was served to the members of the Supreme Court, the members of the foreign delegation, to visiting ladies, to itinerant national committeemen, and even to the White House mouse. It was reputed that the Jeffersonian cheese despite all of the lavish entertainment of the Jeffersonian period, lasted Mr. Jefferson for two and a half years.
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It was this early ceremony of presentation, which, with some embellishments and some omissions, it was the press agent's dream to recreate the high point of activities of National Cheese Week, November 10 to 16. Fortune at first seemed to be playing in our hands. First of all that first presentation had been made, not to Abraham Lincoln, not to Theodore Roosevelt, but to Thomas Jefferson than whom in the bright lexicon of democracy there is none whomever? even to a progressive. This first obstacle in the path of bringing a mammoth cheese to the front door of the White House appeared to be that, following the arrival of too many cherry pies, artichoke salads, and unplucked turkeys at the White House, the executive order had gone forth that hence forward and forever, all food presented by admiring constituencies must go, not in at the front door, but around to the White House kitchen.
This was only such a hurdle as any press agent loves to clear. The matter was put before the White House by the National Democratic Committeeman from Wisconsin, in its true Jeffersonian light. After a few days, the reply came in "Yes." Next week some more cheese to nibble on. This being the first of a series describing an important event in the National Dairy industry. It is an interesting tale. Many difficult problems were solved and at last doors opened to success.
Two or three years ago, answering an advertisement in the Tribune, I wrote the firm inquiring about the goods offered. Did I receive a reply? Not. Last week the Tribune carried another advertisement by a local firm about goods I wished to buy. I wrote asking for information. No reply. I sent my order to a well known mail order house and in forty eight hours the goods were at my post office. Others have had the same experience. Some day Bay City merchants will awaken to the fact that here is something more in merchandising than wrapping up goods and taking the purchasers money. When that time arrives they will have an increased trade.
The Ramsey farm owned and operated by Mrs. Lutie Ramsey, enjoys a brisk business. Turkey selling at twenty cents per pound, eggs bringing the top price because of their unusual size, matched color and guaranteed freshness. The Ramsey farm is a going concern.
Nice to report that Louie Walter is making favorable recovery from his accident and also fine to report that Robert Murry is much better and his family feel that soon he will be back in his usual health.
Monday the Collegeport Woman's Club held its annual holiday party at the home of Mrs. Vernon Batchelder. Because of the messy roads, the attendance was small but the spirit of those present was high. Mrs. Vera, as all know, could not help but provide superb and gentle hospitality. Refreshments were as dainty as the sweet hostess and consisted of fruit salad smothered in whipped cream, angel food cake and coffee served in fragile cups. Those fortunate to be present passed a most delightful afternoon and enjoyed the program.
As has been the custom since 1910, Wednesday was the date for the annual community dinner. Since the date of the first dinner there has been no break. The tradition has been kept. In spite of weather and road conditions about one hundred were present. Reverend Janes offered thanks and after dinner was served, delivered a preachment. It was a time for visiting, mingling with old friends and discussing the early days of the community. Mr. and Mrs. Food were there with all their children, for I notice Chick Food, Turk Food, Sausage Food, Beef Food, Salad Food, Pie Food and other little members of the food family too numerous to mention. Someone sent in a plate of doughnuts and I made an organized raid and when Mrs. Nelson was not looking wrangled about six and had a good time dunking in my coffee. Vegetables galore graced the tables, pies, cakes, pickles, meats, breads, everything one might desire. It was evident that Collegeport had an abundance of food. Many were there whom I had not seen.
During a holiday week a big truck bearing the sign "Live Oak Farm" drove into our yard. It was loaded with wood and the Negro driver began to unload. I called to him and said, "boy you have made a mistake. I have ordered no wood from any person." In reply he said, "Is you Mr. Clapp?" On giving an affirmative reply, he said, "I don't know nothin' about this ceptin' a white man told me to take this wood to Mr. Clapp's house and here I be." The wood was unloaded and I had another Christmas gift, but to this date I do not know the identity of this special Santa Claus. Just another mystery which may be solved along side of the sweet burglar episode. Hope I'll solve both for I spend too much time trying to unravel the clues. Mighty nice and sweet anyway and I am thankful for the wood gift and the miserable wretch is grateful for the thirteen and half dozen clothes pins. Writing "miserable wretch" whom I sometimes call my wife, reminds me that the other day I received what might be called a dressing gown by one of friend wife's friends. This party regrets that I use the words referred to. Tells me it shows disrespect and is an insult to as fine a woman as is Mrs. Clapp. This person also reports that I have lost face with many readers and that they do not consider it at all humorous and trusted that I would heed the advice and discontinue its use. Well, old top, I'll just say that any woman who is tied up to a fellow as mean as I am, is most certainly a miserable wretch. I reported to her what this person had said and just to prove that she was miserable she said "go ahead and use it. I like it. Our friends don't believe it and for the others, who cares." So I look into those eyes that have shined my way through forty years of life and with a smile on my face and tender love in my heart, I say, "here's to you, you sweet miserable wretch."
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, January 9, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
"Then, all matters being started towards success from the White House angle, it remained to get the cheese! Like the recipe for preparing rabbit, it would seem that first get your rabbit might have been a better rule to follow. Cheese weighing 1250 pounds are a bit hard to come by, as several experts in the bulk cheese lines will be glad to testify. With the cooperation of several agencies, some wire pulling, by dent of disappointing a customer or two in the southwestern part of the United States, we procured a 1250 pound cheese so nearly like the mammoth cheese presented to Thomas Jefferson that even Mr. Jefferson might justifiably have groaned in his grave if from there he still watched the affairs of contemporary Democrats. Entree to the White House, and mammoth cheese procured, we must have a float to represent the Jeffersonian sleigh, six white horses, four girls from Wisconsin and a driver. The making of the sleigh float was placed in skillful hands in Chicago. A wire to New York with the simple request to get six white horses in Washington was answered by the simple but descriptive wire "My God I'll try!" and the matter of trying produced six of the most beautiful white horses available anywhere in the United States, one of the teams of the Chestnut Farms Dairy, whose beautiful horses have been famous in Maryland and Virginia for many years. Sending the initial story about the six white horses, the cheese presentation through wire service from several points simultaneously, your representative boarded a train for Washington, one week before the date of the White House event. A few hours wait at the White House brought an interview with the President's secretary, Colonel Marvin H. McIntyre and final arrangements were made for the formal presentation, the presence of the press and an audience following the cutting of the cheese arranged with the President. The business of writing stories, giving interviews, procuring four personable Wisconsin girls in Washington, finding costumes of the period of 1800 to fit them, and sundry details occupied some time. But over and beyond the confident note of the stories for the newspapers, was the underlying fear that the float, shipped some time vaguely by truck from Chicago, might not arrive in time. The float had to be set up, white horses and all, some time on Monday before the Thursday of the event in order to secure those advance pictures for printing in Wisconsin. No float on Friday, no float on Sunday at dawn. The float was to be assembled in Baltimore, where men and equipment, and facilities for trucking were available. Long distance wires hurried throughout a placid Sunday morning. And at nine o'clock, the float, boxed in dozens of separate pieces arrived in Baltimore. From Washington your representative hastened to the warehouse, where a huge truck body was waiting for its pictorial covering of canvas, wood, and much yellow and white crepe paper. From diagrams, it was possible to get the dashboard in place in front instead of the rear, and the sides seemed to fit nicely. One difficulty was that the float had been built to clear a low tongue whiffle tree or some such technicality. And not a low whiffle tree in the entire state of Maryland. The only answer was to cut through the high dashboard--build like Santa Claus' sleigh of old--to make a slit large enough for the tongue. This was done with a great crashing through of wood and canvas, to the imminent peril of the entire float. Once the high dashboard was secured, there was a platform for the cheese to be built atop the truck, sides to be secured, paper to be clipped, hammered, sawed. Along toward the end of the afternoon, considerable of the younger fry of Lee Street, Baltimore, had come to look and wonder. One youngster asked in solemn glee, "Hey, lady, is Santa Claus going to be in on this?" And, indeed, it seemed as though he must have been for the float began assuming the proportions of a sleigh. Finally, it was done and stood in the shed at Fruchoff in Baltimore, beautifully yellow and white, austerely large and handsome. LARGE, did I say! As we stood about, exhausted, but faintly proud, some one looked at the float with a critical eye, and said, "You know, I wonder if WE CAN GET THIS FLOAT THROUGH THE WHITE HOUSE GATES?" Followed a shuddering silence. At high midnight your representative, dirty, weary, manicureless, arrived back in Washington, hence over to the solemn purity of the White House--and THE WHITE HOUSE GATES! To the wonder and amazement of the occasional passerby and the sharp questioning of members of the secret service, we proceeded to step off the distance between those White House gates, hitching posts, iron grill-work and all. A feat difficult to perform with any accuracy in shoes that do not measure twelve inches in length! The cursory examination showed that it could not be done. It would be impossible to get the float through those narrow gates, built in ancient days exclusively for the Carriage Trade. If we could not get it through the gates, there could be no presentation, for the main and simple reason that if you do not do it at the White House front door, there is no news. It couldn't be done and meantime, editorial Washington was starting with news, part of it humorous, part of it serious, about the Big Cheese at the White House. Could it be done? It couldn't be done! All reason pointed to the impossibility of making it at all. And yet, here reason stopped! Unable to think at all, one could only wait until dawn! As I sit at my Corona looking through the window at the heavy fog that covers the earth, I, too ask "What of the dawn?" Will it ever come and when it does will it bring success or failure. Be patient until next week.
Last Tuesday little Miss Joanne Brimberry celebrated her fourth birthday. Among the things to make her happy was a big birthday cake and she sent a big slice to me. Wednesday the Rev. Paul Engle came to us with the Communion of our church. A fine, gentle, loving service which left us greatly refreshed and with renewed faith. From here he went to Blessing, then Palacios and then to the Sartwelle ranch. He is sure looking after the isolates.
Saturday Gus Franzen, who is always doing nice things, brought us a very beautiful bouquet which filled a bushel basket. The center piece was a big cabbage and around it was arranged swell carrots, turnips, onions and topped off with big heads of lettuce. Swell gift and we thank Gus for the thought that prompted the giving. All picked fresh from his garden and no wonder with the mercury standing at 90 at noon. Monday night the County Christian Endeavor met here. Delegates from Palacios, Bay City and Blessing. A half hour of social intercourse and then the business routine. A nice attendance and an enjoyable program.
Thursday the Woman's Club held its annual meeting, listened to reports, made plans for the coming year. Mrs. Hurd, the president, served doughnuts and coffee. Doughnuts. What dreams the word brings. Dreams of Gramma's doughnuts and golden, flaky, crispy cruellers. In my opinion, Mirth should announce himself as the Tribune's humorist. This, after reading about "I like pork." I like pork, also, and sympathize with Mirth, for, like him, the price is beyond me. The other day one of our merchants had a fresh ham on his block and when I tried to buy a slice he refused, informing me that under the AAA, he was forbidden to sell pork. Damn that triple A. He told me the only way I could obtain a slice would be to have him give it to me or for me to steal it. He refused to give it to me, and, well, to make a long tale short, we, meaning I and the miserable wretch, had pork for dinner. I still like pork and I would like to be paid for what I planned to eat but did not. We are having hot summer weather these days with plenty of big fat oysters.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, January 15, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
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The Ramsey farm had a most excellent holiday trade and soon sold all of the turkeys. Eggs are coming in from the hens, but not fast enough to supply the demand. Folks who know about the large size of these eggs, the uniform color and guarantee of infertility are willing to pay an extra price. I prophecy a continued brisk business for the Ramsey farm.
Sunday, Myrtle Duffy, who at one time was Myrtle Fulcher, drove her car into the yard with her mother, Mrs. Col. Tom Fulcher, two nurses, two kiddies, and much to our delight, Barbara Hale. Barbara has taken on an added sweetness and is a very pretty young woman. I trust she keeps out of the rain for rain melts sugar. Barbara has a good spirit which will greatly aid her in overcoming her physical trouble which as caused her fighting Irish blood to just rare up and keep the fight for recovery going. She patiently faces the job, keeps cheerful and I predict that she will win out. She is a mighty sweet child and always has been and from the time she was a little girl we have been more than fond of her. We congratulate Colonel Tom on his possession of such a fine daughter.
Mrs. Leola Cox Sides, County Home Agent, came here Tuesday and met with the local canning club. Including Mrs. Sides, only eight were present and only four were members. Anyway, Mrs. Sides gave a real talk on bedroom closets and with a small model, illustrated her points. I ought to join up and at least take the first degree for I am building a bedroom closet. Maybe Leola will some time call on me and give me a private lesson.
Thursday, the Kings Daughters met with Mrs. Anna D. Crane.
Friday night the High School gave a play at the Hendrick's home with an attendance of fifty-three. By putting the clock back on hour, the kids were out until one a. m. Mrs. Hendricks served lemonade and delicate cake and the kids report a red hot time with lots of fun.
Our oyster man is giving us real service and delivers to our door fine oysters at 35c per quart of 20c per pint. Large, fat fellows that often run eleven to the pint. We had a pint Saturday with eighteen, many of them four inches long.
Our seventeen days of summer came to an abrupt end Friday night with a norther and forty-mile gale and temperatures down to 24. Just a drop from the day before of, oh say, to be safe, about sixty degrees. We, meaning I and the miserable wretch, went to bed that night with our heaviest fur coats.
Plenty of ice Sunday morning in the "Sunny Southland." Some day the "Bix [Big?] Six" over in Palacios will awaken from their slumbers and realize that the causeway is not only a needed transportation agency, but a trade builder.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, January 23, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
The President laughed until his sides shook when he was told about the five-year-old colored boy who marched along with his more sophisticated white friends as we were getting the sleigh ready to go to the White House. He had apparently entered into some argument with the little white boys about our driver, who was splendid in his cocked hat, satin breeches, velvet coat and ruff and came to me with seeming authority. "Lady," his large eyes pleaded with me, "That is the real Santa Claus George Washington, ain't it?" It happened that the high point of Washington's Community Chest drive was on that same day, with a luncheon for 1000 Washington leaders, at the Willard Hotel. Our float, six white horses and all, proceeded with the bulk of the cheese, directly down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Willard Hotel, where it was, with some difficulty, transferred to a hand truck thence up to the Grand Ballroom, where it was placed on display before the group of Chest leaders. Colonel McIntyre, himself, came over to make a personal presentation on behalf of the President of the United States of the mammoth cheese for charity. His speech was broadcast amid much enthusiasm. After luncheon, the giant cheese was cut, to be sent to the Red Cross, Salvation Army, and other agencies, where it was used and deeply appreciated in many humbler homes than the White House. The event caused a genuine stir in Washington where a stir is rather a difficult thing to cause in these stirring days.
Within six days in Washington alone the newspapers carried stories totaling more than 5000 lines, many of these stories appearing on front pages, many cartoons dealing with the subject of the Big Cheese, many editorials and much column comment. These stories alone, printed in space which, of course, cannot be purchased for advertising, total more than $2,000 of value in advertising space rates. Outside of Washington the story of the presentation was carried to the nation in eight separate stories carried by the Associated Press, two wire photos from the same association, six United Press stories, one International Press story, and two International photos by special correspondents of more than 100 metropolitan dailies, one syndicated Scripps-Howard cartoon, several syndicated editorials, many nationally syndicated columns, including that of Walter Winchell. In addition to the National Cheese Week announcements heard on programs sponsored by members of the Cheese Industry, there were three national broadcasts which featured the cheese presentation, including that of Lowell Thomas. Two additional local broadcasts of Washington newspapers carried the story. The City of Washington engaged in conversation about cheese last week, to the exclusion of international policies, the Canadian reciprocity agreement, and even a local murder full of baffling details. And the success of all this program may be laid directly to that one and a half inches clearance of the White House gates, and to the fact, I conclude, that nobody in the United States has seen a white horse in years." Thus ends the tale of the big cheese given to Thomas Jefferson in 1802 and to Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1935. Some cheese and if it had been a Coon River cheese I would have asked that that float be driven through our gates. But never mind. I had a Coon Cured Cheese that weighed 12.5 pounds with whiskers six inches long--a crumbly, tangy taster that we treasure and only nibble so it will last. Give me cheese and a cold stein of good old beer and maybe a spare rib. Hey, Bill?
Just as an illustration of the advantage of advertising I cite this: The Al Lee Players of Palacios came over here last week and put on their show without any advertising. They took in thirteen frog skins. Had they advertised they would no double have taken at least thirty of the same sort of green hides, for our folk like shows. Advertising always spells the difference between and failure. Some one said, "If your business does not pay, advertise it for sale." The Players will come again this week and I hope that they will advertise and have a good crowd Friday night because the Woman's Club participates in the take.
The miserable wretch tells me right this moment to write to you folk who drive all over the country trying to get somewhere and not knowing about the good food always provided by the Collegeport' women better remember that the annual Washington Birthday Banquet will be held here either Friday night, February 21s, or Saturday night, the 22nd. Exact date to be announced.
Library opened Friday and let out fifty-two books with fifty guests. Good business.
We have enjoyed a week of summer, doors open, window up, fresh sweet breeze and just to illustrate will say that Saturday morning at five o'clock Jimmy expressed a desire for a pasaer and I let him out the back door and, clothed in my nightie, I went out on the gallery for ten minutes, while Jimmy hunted around for varmints. Warm summer morning and was sorry to have to climb back in the husks, but too dark for the morning milking.
Saturday the people of the county will vote on liquor or no liquor. If the county goes dry it will be deprived of some income and at the same time there will be plenty of booze as always before. If it votes wet, there will be no more liquor, perhaps not as much and the county exchequer will be sweetened with many a dollar of liquor tax money. I am, as everyone knows, a pro except when there be some gin, rum, wine or beer, but I am planning to vote. Oh, well, guess I'll wait until Saturday and see how the other booze hounds feel about it, but I will still be a strict pro. This idea of controlling appetite and passion is a will-'o-the-wisp. Never has been did, so let us be sensible and try to control. This box went two for one for repeal. Wonder what it will do for wet or dry.
We, meaning I and the miserable wretch, are sorry to learn of the illness of Almee Hall and hope she makes an early recovery.
When, and if we desire spare ribs, we just tell Louie Duffy about it and he takes his houn' dogs and goes into the brakes and hunts up a fat wild hog and presto, we soon have spare ribs. Louie did that last week and hung up a hog that dressed 3200 ounces. The spare ribs were glorious nestling amidst sauer kraut and spuds.
Friday we were honored with a visit by Mesdames George Harrison, Hugh Linder and Dorsey. All from Palacios and obliged to drive 32.6 miles as the causeway is not open for traffic. Mrs. Lena brought me three heads of head lettuce and a bog cabbage right fresh from her garden. Just now with the north wind blowing, I'd rather have a bouquet of lettuce and cabbage than flowers.
Hope the weather moderates before Saturday for if the norther continues, the wets will win out and I, being a strict pro, do not care for that. Hey! Why don't you bring in them there buckwheat cakes?
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, January 30, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
It's a long trail from way back in the sixties to this year of 1936, but all trails have an end and Robert Duncan Murry came to the end of the trail at the home of Henry Duffy Saturday morning at 4:45, aged 67 years, one month and seven days. He leaves a wife, two daughters and a son, four sisters and four brothers. Services were held from the Walker-Matchett Funeral Home and interment in the Bay City Cemetery. Active pallbearers were his old friends, the boys he used to talk things over with, the Messrs. Batchelder, Bowers, Ash, Fulcher, Ackerman and Nelson. Regardless of what any person thinks of this subject, it is my intention to pay a tribute to a remarkable character. I have known this man for some twenty-six years. When I came to this place, he was the first native to speak to me and ever since we have been good friends. Robert Murry was born in the cattle business and followed it to the last. In the early years he participated in the great drives to Dodge City, drives which required months of heaviest toil. He made the trips and knew all about the hardships. He had eyes that saw many things, ears that heard much, but God gave him a still tongue, so he spoke little. At times in a reminiscent mood, he would tell a tale that a writer might have expanded into romance3.
He was not known as a religious man, as he talked little, but on two occasions he told me of this faith, a faith built on "The Rock of Ages" and the twenty-third Psalm. This faith was to him sufficient, and it carried him through in silence. I wish many more might have enjoyed just this sort of faith. Such faith, such sufficient faith, is a wonderful thing for any man. It is an anchor that holds. Robert Murry was a kind man, a generous one, always helpful and willing. Many times he cared for the sick, arranged details for the dead. Never intrusive, but always ready to lend a helping hand. Many, many times he came to me and gave me aid with sick cattle and in this he was a genius. Never would he accept a penny, always saying, "glad to help you out." I feel a personal loss in the passing of this man and give this tribute to his worth as I knew him.
Love abode in his family. His children adored the father. Might be a good idea if other families would learn from the Murry family how to love each other. To his family I extend my sympathy and trust that in time the great Trail Driver in the Heavens above will soften the grief and bring them comfort.
"It's a long, long wonderful trail From way back there to here; At last he hears the Master's hail The coming of tomorrow's year. The end of the trail.
At last he came to the end of the trail It's a long road from here to there; It came as the sun began to pale As it brought a blush to the morning air. The end of the trail."
--Fragments From Hack.
Us poor sufferers down here on earth sure have endured a plenty this week for day after day it has been mud, rain, freeze. Cattlemen had much to worry about, but from all I have heard, losses have been slight. Temperatures down to 20 at times. Cutting wood and stoking the stoves kept me warm most of the time, but when exposed, icicles three feet long soon hung from my walrus mustache, or maybe it was my long silken beard, anyway, they hung. I broke them off and made the miserable wretch think they were candy sticks. My three hens cut down to one egg per day, but that was enough for me. My partner does not like eggs, thanks to the gods.
Saturday it was warmer, but a steady drizzle, but as it was the day for voting on "shall we have liquor or shall we not" thirty-three came out, with the result that twenty said we shall not and thirteen said "wish we had a drink." Outside of revenue, it makes not one particle of difference to the folk of this county which way we vote. There always has been, there always will be, plenty of liquor for those who desire it and it is easily and legally obtained. I have always been a strict pro with some exceptions. But in this election, I have felt just negative. I did not care which way the bull jumped. This idea of forcing all people to eat, drink, dance, enjoy life as I do or deprive them of things I do not enjoy, is the bunkiest bunk the Lord ever placed in the mind of a human. It has never worked and never will. I enjoy pigs' feet, but some of my best friends detest the sight of this delicacy. Shall I force them to consume pigs' feet? Just to digress, it is my opinion that a dish of pigs' feet with sauerkraut and a stein of cold beer is a luncheon and this desirable, sustaining and nourishing and I write this as a strict pro. Anyway, the people have chosen and I thank God there was no attempt to take from me those pigs' feet.
The Lee Players came over Friday night and put on the play "What Is Love?" Not necessary to play this theme, for believe me, I know what love is. I have enjoyed more than sixty years grazing in love's pasture and I know considerable about the legitimate and the illegitimate brands and they are all good. To love is to live, and when I lose the ability to love, I ask God to come down and take me home. The players took in nine depreciated dollars. Had they advertised, us Homecrofters would have contributed thirty cents, but we knew nothing about it until the next day.
Friday, Miss Carter of Reserve fame, spent the day making an attempt to boost the local reserves into attempting some constructive efforts. Tough deal, as most of them limit their ambition to bare legs, painted faces, frizzed hair, auto rides, rowdy actions and never a thought of community welfare. Oh, well, maybe as the years pass they will acquire some better idea of character values.
The clock on the mantel just struck one and I should be done, but my left brain flutters a bit and as it turns and twists, comes another thought. Saturday Burton Hurd honored me with the privilege of reading the field notes, applications to State Water Board, Highway Commission and Federal Army Engineers, and a sight of the maps and the plans of what appears to be the most gigantic development plan ever attempted in the Texas midcoast. It appears to be the most comprehensive far reaching development plan that will revolutionize conditions in this section. It will form a sportsman paradise for fishers and hunters; irrigate more than one hundred thousand acres; increase our population by ten thousand folk; impound the largest body of fresh water in the state; furnish freight for many trucks and rail transportation; develop a gigantic truck business; greatly increase rice production and incidentally revolutionize marketing systems; it will build two great dams, one of them between this place and Palacios, a mile long, the other about half that distance; it will provide us with a twenty-foot road way across the bay to the City By The Sea. A hearing will be held in Palacios February 18th, before army engineers, at which time all persons interested or not interested may come and speak their desires. I have read every word, examined all maps and plans and they look beautiful to me. At the same time, I must confess that as feeble a brain as I have and only half functioning, I am dazed, overcome, subjugated, and my left lobe freely quivers with amazement at the audacity of the man who had the vision to plan such a colossal, cyclopean marvel. I therefore doff my sombrero to Burton D. Hurd. If there be any person who desires to throw a wrench in this machinery for good work, let him be present the eighteenth and say his say; likewise, if there be those who have some vision and approve, let them also come and with helpful words, aid in the project or otherwise hold their peace.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, February 6, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
[Local information taken from longer article.]
I am told that the county voted wet by a majority of more than four hundred. It will now be the duty of the powers that be to fix the tax for a liquor store so high that the owner cannot make a living profit and thus enable the bootleggers to continue their profitable trade. This appears to be the rule in other places, so why expect more from our own powers? The solution is to make the tax very reasonable require prices to be also within reason, engage in a never-ending warfare on those who violate the liquor laws, send them to the pen and protect legitimate dealers. What we desire is temperance in the use of drinks, pigs feet, turnip greens and pot likker.
We have enjoyed a tempestuous week with roaring north gales, considerable rain, low temperatures. We all hug the stove and shiver. Don't talk to us about the balmy southland breezes that come capering across miles of tossing seas. These breezes come from the north pole and sweep down on us without warning and we have had enough, so beat it, north wind.
The Woman's Union was billed to meet with Mrs. Hattie Kundinger last Thursday and anticipated a good crowd. Hattie made thirty-six little cherry pies, topped with whipped cream and nestling on top a big red cherry. She had thin slices of white bread cut diamond shape, spread with caviar, one of Hugo's delectable cream cakes with pink frosting and delicious coffee. Not a soul was present. Even the officers stayed away. Rain, cold winds, mud, was just too much for the daughters to travel in. There was Hattie with all this elegant food so she passed it out to her hungry neighbors and we had two of the pies and they were just as glorious as glory could be. If Hattie will have another meeting and the same menu, I'll organize the King's Sons and we will be there.
School trucks fighting the continued storms, the mud and rain were a usual thing of late but at last the kiddies were assembled and study went on.
Monday I took the box of votes to Bay City and was surprised to learn that the county had decided that it wanted booze. Being a strict pro, I am unable to understand this for since 1907 the county has been legally bone dry, but illegally wringing wet.
Tuesday the 19th, a hearing will be held in Palacios that means much to this section. It is hoped that a number of our people will be present and speak their piece or keep their peace. This is no time to throw rocks. It may be, probably is, the last time we shall have a chance to dream of a causeway. The reason why this place and Palacios voted dry was because of the prospect of having a causeway and the voters thought there would be wet enough on both sides. Up to date no application has been made for a liquor store in Collegeport, but judging from the amount of liquor used, it might be a good business. One man said he would take out a permit, but he feared his family would raise hell.
This has been a poor week for news. Everyone staying about the stoves, hence no fights, wife beatings, and so forth.
A card from Raymond Hunt informs me that he is in the Canal Zone and will write me again from Ecuadore. He likes the ship life and enjoys fine health. Buster will make good. He is receiving a splendid education and is in line for advancement. We have reason to be proud of this lad.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, February 13, 1936 |
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Collegeport Home Demonstration Club
The Collegeport Home Demonstration Club met Tuesday, February 11, with seven members and four visitors present. Refinishing old furniture was demonstrated, hat and shoe racks were displayed and several finished articles were reported, including quilts, rugs, and work on the new model clothes closet, which was demonstrated by Mrs. Sides at our meeting held January 14, and was attended by eight members and four visitors.
Mrs. Crane, Reporter
Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, February 20, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
[Local information taken from longer article.]
St. Valentine treated me in royal style. I received three big red heart shaped boxes beautifully decorated and containing a pound of chocolates. Then my "Vice" remembered me and here comes a sweet valentine from Denver with verse placed to music. Several other remembrances and among our callers were Mrs. Patricia Martyn and Louise Sharp from Palacios. Unable to drive to our gate, they left their car four blocks away and walked in the mud that distance. I hope the Precinct Commissioner reads this. Thursday night Charles Heck with a party of four bogged down near our place and it took nearly an hour to extricate the car. I hope the Precinct Commissioner reads this. Friday night the High School gave a Valentine party at the home of the Dean Mercks. With their guests more than fifty were present. They enjoyed games and stunts suitable for the time and were served with delicious refreshments prepared by Mrs. Merck. Saturday several drove to Blessing to attend to a meeting of the District Board of the Girl Reserves. I am informed that an interesting program was enjoyed.
A brisk dry norther entertained us for a day and then followed some mild weather which suggested Spring. We are prepared to give it a welcome when, as and if. Library opened Friday as usual and about forty books placed in eager readers' hands. There be some who thoroughly appreciate the library and the work of the faithful women who operate it. Many are indifferent. Some never visit the building but it stands there a monument to the vision of a woman who dreamed twenty-five years ago.
It don't seem possible that the men of this place will stay away from the hearing in Palacios next Tuesday, but from all I am able to observe they are quite indifferent. One thing is plainly seen. The promoters of this great plan are trying to do something and it is much better to try and fail than to sit on one's haunches on the buzzard's roost and do nothing. Our burg is full up with do-nothings.
Mr. Ainsworth, our oyster man, was found unconscious in his boat the other day, the boat floating in the slough. He was taken to his home and the next day was out in his usual health. This man is rendering the community a valuable service.
The long period of rains will delay planting and should be a lesson to our farmers. Those who plowed and laid up their land last fall are sitting quite pretty for they are ready to plant soon as the season permits. The other fellows will no doubt blame the poor crops season on weather and cuss out the climate. They should read "Farm Notes by F. O. Montague. They might learn something about what is called practical farming.
I read in the Beacon that I have been placed in the "Honor List." I am very much pleased if it means I shall have the privilege of reading the Beacon each week. It is a bright, snappy sheet which Palacios should be proud of. It is eight pages filled with interesting matter. It enjoys fair advertising patronage but still not enough, for every merchant in the town should use space and thus encourage a healthy growth. It is the mouth piece of the town. It takes, to many people, the heart beats of Palacios and they read it eagerly.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, February 20, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
Tuesday I attended a hearing at Palacios. I was not in it. I was not a part of it. I was just a "has been" sitting on the observation car. Often have I traveled this country and sitting there watched the tracks receded, narrow, come together in a point, disappear in the distance. Tuesday I saw the same thing and I felt that arguments, protests will also vanish in the distance. I estimate that about one hundred men were present, nearly all provided with a little hatchet of protests. In spite of the fact that Colonel Marks, who had charge of the hearing, emphasized the point that the Army department was interested only in the subject of navigation at least ninety-five per cent of the protests covered such points as irrigation, land flooding, stoppage of drains. Only two real protests were made against the building of the dam across to Palacios, one by G. A. Salsbury, with thirty-five signatures, and I am informed that of that number only three were property owners and the other by Captain Howard Stapp, Sr. Captain Stapp's protest was practically eliminated because from his own testimony he used the upper Palacios Bay very few times for refuge from storms. Carlton Crawford representing the Crawford Packing Company, testified that they owned and controlled thirty-five boats and that they never used the upper bay for refuge as they considered Carancahua Bay a much safer harbor. Six protests were received as against the dam across Carancahua Bay; Port Lavaca 3, LaWard 1, Edna 1, and Palacios 1. These were of such a nature that they will be easily adjusted. Granting the request of Mr. Fletcher Colonel Marks adjourned the hearing for thirty days in order that Mr. Fletcher and others might have time to study the plan in detail. To this Mr. Burton Hurd readily gave his consent as he very much desires that all facts be known and none obscured. At the close of the hearing, Mr. Hurd made a brief statement. He spoke in a gentle, easy manner using language that reflected his great ambition to accomplish a work of great value to this section. From the stenographic report, I gave the following from Mr. Hurd's statement: "I am glad to have this opportunity to hear the opposition and to have a chance to meet those gentlemen and go over the plans for the development. I do not wish to take up the time of Colonel Marks in doing so and will be glad to go over the plans and discuss in detail the various phases of the proposition either individually or collectively with all interested parties at my office or any designated point whenever the opportunity presents itself by those in opposition. My idea of this development was entirely progressive. This will be clearly demonstrated when the proposition is understood by those who oppose it. That there has been no navigation in these waters of any consequence in the past twenty years is a well known fact. That there are mud flats at the entrance to both the Palacios River and Carancahua Creek that would not be negotiated by any craft drawing two feet of water is also known. Further that I will provide locks in the structure if and when, the possibility of navigation demands it." I have no boats and I have no cars, but I have two good legs and therefore I am interested in this construction as it plans for a twenty foot highway and enable anyone to cross the bay from this place to Palacios in about three minutes. I desire the privilege of walking across this causeway and I am for the project strong. After the hearing, I was invited to a luncheon at the pavilion. Fourteen were present, proponents and some opponents, but all sat at one table in friendly intercourse. Oyster cocktails, oysters raw, oysters stewed, oysters fried, oysters broiled, steaks, vegetables, hot rolls and coffee were enjoyed. Looking at Colonel Marks' plate I saw he was feeding on the elegant apple pie and so I had one and boy, it was no bake shop stuff, but red hot out of the oven, guilt with a generous pay streak and just as delicious as the gods could make. The Pavilion cafe is a sweet, clean place, all in light green with plenty of windows overlooking the bay, giving a view of it's sparkling, dancing water, except this day the water did not sparkle because under the influence of a norther, the tide was low and water flowed in a sluggish tired manner. However, one might look and at no extra cost. The service is all that one might demand and that means perfection. The food generous in quantity and gorgeous in quality. Palacios may well be proud of the Pavilion and its beautiful cafe and soon as that causeway is open for traffic, us Collegeports will walk over and claim part ownership. Any Palacios business man who fails to support this proposition passes by the greatest trade bringing possibility that has ever been offered. It will release and add to the present trade area more than two hundred square miles with something like sixteen hundred potential buyers. You merchants who are straddling the fence better get off on the cultivated side and prepare to join in the harvest. Before I close this string I wish to congratulate the City of Palacios on the membership of the Pavilion and sea wall commission. The men who gave their time freely, accepted abuse, aspersions, vituperation and smilingly bent to the work and saw it through to beautiful completion should have and do have the gratitude of the people they served.
Friday night we observed the annual banquet in honor of George Washington. Tables were laid with a beautiful service for one hundred, but for some unknown reason, only about seventy-five were present. At each plate was found a red hatchet and a bundle of faggots, the latter consisting of strips of candied orange peel in red, white and blue. The tables were beautifully decorated in national colors and on the platform was displayed a large colored picture of George Washington. Mrs. Burton D. Hurd acted as toaster, and in her usual happy manner introduced the speakers, the principal ones being Burton D. Hurd, H. A. Clapp and Vernon Hurd, each of whom consumed about ten minutes in statements appropriate to the occasion. Table service was without objection, it was so near perfect and the girls were all dressed in colonial costume. Elliott Curtis, dressed in knee breeches and a white wig, appeared to be the court jester, for he seemed to have much enjoyment making wise comments on any statement made by speakers. It was amusing to listen to the singing of The Star Spangled Banner. Everyone knows the first verse and so all joined in and sang lustily. Came the second verse and a few dropped out; came the third verse and more fell along the wayside; came the fourth and only about a half dozen staggered through the lines. It was one of the real funny events of the evening. In my opinion it is much better to sing one verse lustily, heartily, than to attempt to drag a few faltering ones through the entire book. It was an enjoyable evening and the affair was a credit to the faithful few on whose shoulders fell the work of preparation and administration. Every two years some of the Bay City folk are interested in us and make us a visit. They seek something we have to give and when, as and if, they find what they desire, they fade away and we seldom see any of them for two more years. This is what brought Mr. S. O. Eidman to our banquet. He is after votes and if he is elected or defeated, he, like all the rest of our Court House gang, will forget us for two years. He brought with him his charmingly sweet wife and I was delighted to meet her again. She looks like a young girl, so fresh is her face. If she stands for office I would enjoy voting for her. I was also much pleased to see Mr. Eidman again and am glad that he is back in Matagorda County. He is a well known business man and if he is chosen for the position he seeks, no doubt he will fill it with ability. Ruby Hawkins, R. A. Kleska, Oscar Barber, Rose Newman, Harris Milner, A. D. Hensley, stand up and explain your absence. You should have been present with your thirty-five cents and your little cards. And George Harrison, Ray Phillips, G. C. Lawson. I suppose you were all waiting for the causeway to open. All you political guys love us generously once in two years. Why can't you play love with us more often and several times each year come down and mix in. None of us have rabies. We are harmless. We might, if demanded, provide a throat cleaner.
Saturday we were favored with a visit from Mrs. George Duffy of El Campo and Mrs. Leo Duffy of the big Duffy cattle ranch south of town. Before they left, we were invited to go with Myrtle Tuesday to Midfield to visit Mrs. Duffy's father, who being a Tribune reader, expressed a desire to meet the writer of "Thoughts." Weather permitting, I'll be there and look forward to the engagement with eager anticipation. Results next week. Grasping a stout stick of wood, I announce that Tuesday was cold but brilliant. Wednesday and Thursday not quite so good, but Friday, Saturday and Sunday bright and resplendent sunshine, doors open and good bye fires, at least for a time, but I still hold fast to that stick of wood for safety sake.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, February 27, 1936 |
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By Harry Austin Clapp
The past week has been full of delight and transport. The bill opened on Sunday with a raid made by the Merck clan. The clan consists of sixteen sons and daughters, nine grandchildren and father and mother. I am glad that all are not voters, for we have enough democrats in this section without all this crowd of democratic prospects. I have many fine friends among the democrats and am sorry they are in such bad company. Well, anyway, when a big auto as long as a freight car rolled into our yard and began to disgorge I soon found we had Mr. Rowan McRee (Theora Merck) and two daughters, Zadie Z. and Sunshine from Hockley; Mr. Jack Martin (Elvie Merck) and two sons, Jack, Jr. and Jerry, from Houston; and the mother of the Merck clan, in the person of Sadie Merck. The latter slipped in unobserved and it was some time before I recognized this timid little person, but she was right there proud as could be with her fine brood. The time passed so happily and so quickly, and before we realized its passing the car had been loaded and away. Mr. and Mrs. Merck have sixteen children and children-in-laws, and nine grandchildren, and so with the parents they represent twenty-seven democrat votes. Terrible thing to contemplate. We have seen these kids grow up, marry and bring back their children and we have always enjoyed their visits. Each year they come in twos and threes or bunches and make us a visit and they are all delightful occasions.
"Love came to me at twilight Softened by "Sunshine" bright, I cannot choose between Zadie Z And Sunshine demure and wee, So guess I'll hold them in heart's embrace And see who will win this lover's race."
The Merck's have Gerald, John, Dean, Jessie, Viola, Theora, Elvie, Bessie, all happily married and all have children except Bessie and Jessie. Nice bunch of kids and no wonder little Miss Sadie is a proud mother.
Well it took all day Monday to recover from this joyful visit and then on Tuesday came Mrs. George Duffy, of El Campo, and Mrs. Leo Duffy (Myrtle Fulcher) and took us to spend the day at the Juanita Ranch as guests of Mr. and Mrs. F. Cornelius, Sr. Mr. Cornelius is eighty-six years of age, the father of seventeen children, of which thirteen are living. He came here from Germany at the age of eighteen, without any knowledge of English and two empty hands, but with a willingness to work. From that early time he was employed at any work that came to him, learned the language, saved his money, accumulated property, raised a large family, and started them all on life's way and now living at ease and in plenty on his home ranch. He is erect, straight as an arrow, looks about sixty or less, active, full of interesting tales of the old time cattle trails, a business he has followed with success all these many years. A well-read man who takes an active interest in life. He teaches a Sunday School class, reads extensively, votes the democratic ticket and with that exception is a first class good old scout. The Juanita ranch is a hospitable place and we passed a most happy day and turned back home with regret. The ranch house is surrounded with great live oak trees, from which hangs long streamers of Spanish moss. He keeps about one hundred and fifty sheep just for recreation. The garden contains a liberal planting of cabbage, lettuce, carrots, turnips, potatoes, onions and not only supplies the family table, but as gifts to the many guests, as we well know. In the smoke house hangs great coils of sausage and other meats, all the handiwork of this man and his splendid wife. Splendid wife? Well you will agree if you had the pleasure of sitting at their table. We had the best smoked spare ribs, sausage, sweet and Irish potatoes, salads, cakes, pies, coffee, etcetera, that any table or any queen might serve. A radio furnished news of the day and swell music and no wonder that Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius enjoy life. This visit was made at his request, for the thought of the writer, but I thought, and desired to meet the writer of this column. I don't know what he thought of the writer, but I thought, as I looked at him and listened to his words that I was in the presence of one of the men who have made this section what it is this day. Mrs. Cornelius looks to be about thirty. She speaks three languages, is an extensive reader of good books, she is active, alert, clear sighted, keen-eyed, and an interesting talker. She is a fit companion for the head of the Cornelius clan. As a home keeper she is in the number one class. We have been privileged to spend a profitable day at the Juanita ranch and we hope that some day these fine folk may sit at our oaken board and partake of our humble fare. I talked little, for with the miserable wretch present, I had little use for my tongue, so I was content to listen.
A day of rest and then accepting the courtesy of the Cherry family, we journeyed to Palacios as guests of the Palacios Chamber of Commerce. The annual banquet was held in the beautiful new pavilion. This building is not only beautiful, but lovely, charming, beauteous, and no wonder the local folk are proud of it. Soon as the causeway is in operation we intend to cut in and claim it as our own. Decorations were in harmony with the structure. Music, extra fine, as given by Heart's Delight Millers. This was a string orchestra and is the first time I have heard strings in many years. I am a lover of the violin and bass viol and enjoyed every number. I am surfeited, cloyed, overfed with the blaring saxophone. Music, " I am voice of the Universe, Priestess of Earth, Life's Lyric of Love, and I. Song of the angels in the house of good, the snare and delusion of hell." And so I enjoyed the music even if I did not draw a bag of flour. Tables for four, arranged in rows across the spacious floor seated about two hundred and fifty guests. Service superb. Menu consisted of chicken a la king, diced potatoes, corn, fruit salad, hot rolls, apple pie and coffee. Program was opened by President Koerber who gave a report of the Chamber's operations during the year with an exhibit of what he hopes for the future. It was a clean-cut statement of worthy ambitions. George Orrison, as toastmaster, took over the program and apologized for the enforced absence of General Hulen and Roy Miller and then introduced a gallery of extras who satisfied all present with their sensible talks. Among them were James Sartwelle of the Port City Packing Plant; George D. Wilson, chairman of the Centennial Executive Committee of the Houston Chamber of Commerce; Hagood Ashburn, manager Houston Chamber of Commerce Roads Department; Dave Quickley, of Port Lavaca; E. O. Taulbee, president Bay City Chamber of Commerce and headliner of the Gulf Coast Development Association. Keep your eye on Mrs. Taulbee's boy Eddie.
I had the pleasure of meeting many aspirants for county offices, among them that charming young lady, Mrs. Eidman. S. O. Eidman is a wise old boy taking her along on these trips Rose Langham Newman wants to continue in the treasurer's office and so she was there looking like a rose. The miserable wretch was in her element and had many dancing partners, so she had a happy time, but glad to get back to her old man, when the curtain fell on the last act. Mr. and Mrs. Farwell with dancing feet, Mr. and Mrs. de St. Aubin, Good old Doc Wagner, as frisky as ever, having a fine time in the absence of friend wife. My old friend Mrs. Dismukes, of Beacon fame, and I hope all read the Beacon this week with that fine column about the proposed dam and causeway. Good stuff and should jar Palacios business men into activity to secure something of great value to that burg. The building of this dam means that Palacios will emerge from the village class into a sure enough city and still be by the sea. My old time friend, Duncan Ruthven and wife, Aimee Hall, Patricia Martyn, Eleanor Harper, Tom Hale, skipping about as active as a young boy. Many of the stay-at-home court house crowd are losing out by failure to mix in. If they want votes, they simply must mix in and hug and kiss the babes. Now take me, for example, I am not standing for any office, but I did hug a few babies and managed to kiss several and it made no difference whether their hair was like spun candy or black as a raven's wing. It's the spirit that counts with me. Collegeport was represented by Mr. and Mrs. Cherry, Mr. and Mrs. Vern Batchelder, Burton D. Hurd, Vernon K. Hurd and Mr. and Mrs. Harry Austin Clapp. As a summing up, I give this selection, "The thing that marks one community finer than another does not lie in its soil, its climate, its commerce, its public building, or any other material thing. It lies in the spirit of its citizens. Their willingness to give of their intelligence, their courage, their leisures and their effort, in order that each may do his share of the social overhead, and make his real contribution to the public welfare, is the measure of civic quality." It is the spirit that counts.
The Matagorda County Tribune, March 5, 1936
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By Harry Austin Clapp Thoughts come from the somewhere and go out to the everywhere. To record my thoughts I use my Corona, but his week Corona is in the shop. It needs adjusting, aligning, cleaning, oiling, compensating, atoning. Hope you will get the idea. I write this scrib with faultering pen and one eye because I do not wish to miss a week after years of being present and, of course, the publisher has no desire to lose so valuable a contribution. Corona will return soon and then more Thoughts. Thank you all, good readers, for your patience during my impatience. I do not know how I shall compensate the Corona expert for compensating my Corona, but it will require about seven green frog skins. However, I should not worry for does not the twenty-third Psalm say, "I shall not want?" But to get back we have the work "boost." A good word. It means "to lift or push from behind, as one who is endeavoring to climb; to push up; hence, to assist in overcoming obstacles, or making advancement." By boosting the plan for this dam proposition we have the opportunity to aid in providing a much needed traffic facility or in plain words a causeway. We should work with and on all who oppose. For this, let us for one time stand together. Oil well still working. Pulling pipe. May shoot. If a success a flowing well, if not, may abandon or move derrick and begin a new hole. Nothing more known by the outsiders. Some leasing. Hope this keeps the space until Corona comes home. The Daily Tribune,
Thursday, March 12, 1936 |
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Collegeport Home Demonstration Club met at the Community House Tuesday, March 10, at 2 p. m. Seven members present. Our president and reporter were absent on account of sickness.
Miss Sides met with us and gave a demonstration on cooking mild flavored vegetables. All enjoyed the meeting.
Mrs. Roy Nelson, Vice-President
Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, March 19, 1936
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By Harry Austin Clapp
"What! No Corona?" I asked our venerable postmaster, and he sadly shook his head, his long gray tobacco stained beard waving in the spring breeze. Therefore again I am forced to the last good quill.
Last week my two hens laid two eggs, each one inch long and half inch in diameter. Swell eggs and we are very proud of such elegant eggs.
Officer Ainsworth, our new constable and oyster provider, has some queer customers. One man, not satisfied with ten to the pint, demanded larger oysters. He was supplied with two oysters that filled a pint jar. I have the shell. It is nine inches long, four inches wide, and the oyster weighed three-fourths of a pound.
Well the long expected Hill baby arrived last Monday, the 9th. Six and a half pounds, named Nina Le Verle. We congratulate the proud parents.
We expect our causeway to be open for traffic in about twelve months.
Oil well closed down, only one man on duty. Rumor says the derrick will be moved about 200 feet and a new hole put down.
Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, March 19, 1936
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By Harry Austin Clapp
[Local information taken from longer article.]
Mrs. Robert Kundinger, with her son and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Russel Kundinger and Master Robert Kundinger, all from Chicago, and kin of our beloved Hugo, spent a week here in blissful enjoyment. Mrs. Kundinger will be remembered as the lady who on a previous visit caught a shark and tamed it so it followed her to Chicago, where it sports in the blue of Lake Michigan, but it is unhappy for a shark can only spit in salt water and hence is denied this pleasure.
I was given the pleasure of an invitation to the King's Daughters at the Liggett home. Never saw such a crowd, nearly forty-five being present, all attracted by the odor of the generous and delicious foods provided. The meeting was honored by the presence of Mesdames Hensley and Jones. Mrs. Jones at one time was a resident of this burg and we enjoyed delightful retrospection as we gabbled about olden days.
Thursday the Mopac Foundation held its first annual meeting the fiscal year closing March 31st. Hugo Kundinger's term as trustee expired, but because of his faithful handling of the funds, was reelected for a term of five years. Next year the writer's head will be on the block and perhaps it will be wise to sharpen the axe and give him the chop-chop where he wears that red necktie. Fearing that, his head wags feebly for the next twelve months. Reports of the secretary and treasurer shows that receipts were $85.60 and payments on vouchers $64.20, leaving a balance of $21.31. Payments made on the piano $50.00 leaving a balance due of $25.00. The building is sadly in need of paint and the gods only now how, when and where. The floor needs treatment so it may have a hard, smooth surface for dancing feet.
For picking peaches I doff my hat to Clifford Franzen. Two or three years ago he brought a load of that fruit from Port Arthur, and so far as he allowed, I enjoyed the chance offered to me. This week he brings another load, one of them being a very delicious specimen from the Magee orchard. From the sparkle on the third finger, it appears that Clifford has cast his loop on this peach so I had to keep hands off. This one is known as the Odessa Magee peach and the other one is a Louise Bogel peach from the orchard of Mr. Bogel. Both what I call delicious fruit and I fell so hard for them that Clifford took a chance and perhaps spoiled two films, one of them showing the writer standing between two beautiful peaches. I hope this film turns out swell. Well, anyway, the girl who takes Clifford will be a lucky gal for he is one fine young man. Gus was so proud of the exhibit that he squandered a big appreciated nickel and presented me with a White Owl. The foursome from Port Arthur was completed with Mr. Frank Maxwell. They return Sunday and along in June time, when the sun shines bright and warm, when flowers bloom, when the air is filled with sweet perfume, when love calls and will no longer be denied an answer, bells will ring for it will be peach time in the Magee orchard.
"Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; Do lovely things, not dream them, all day long; And to make Life and Death, and that Forever, One Grand Sweet Song." --Kipling
Wednesday night a home wedding with Reverent George Gillespie reading the service. Ruth Boeker was united in marriage to Mr. F. R. Spate of Houston. Those present were the parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carl Boeker, two brothers, Mr. and Mrs. Hubert Boeker of Bay City, Mr. and Mrs. Frank King, Mr. and Mrs. Ben R. Mowery and the grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Boeker. The young couple left that night for Seadrift, where the groom is employed by the Continental Oil Company. The good wishes of the community go with them. Ruth was brought up in this place and by her sweetness has endeared herself to all who now her. I wish them a joyous trip with smooth seas, gentle sloping beaches, fragrant breezes, dancing, flowing tides.
We count ourselves as among the fortunate for we have been feeding on as delicious bacon as ever graced our table. Bacon from a wild hog caught by Louie Duffy, cured and smoked by his master hand. A streak of lean and a streak of fat, a golden, sparkling brown and a flavor all its own, from a formula known by only Louie. That was a delicate and generous compliment given George Harrison by the Tribune in a recent issue. I quote a few lines: "It has been said of George Harrison that he knows and is known favorably by more state officials and others in authority than any County Commissioner in Texas, and very, very naturally, because of such broad acquaintanship, can get more attention than the general run of county officials."
Not long ago I had the pleasure of meeting a well known and very prominent man and during our conversation he said, "Mr. Clapp, I know every member of all the county courts in the counties bordering on the gulf from the Sabine to the Rio Grande. I have done business with them all, I know all the court members of the next tier of counties and I'll tell you, that in my opinion, George Harrison is the best commissioner in Texas and he can do more for the coast counties than any man in the territory, name and beyond that, he goes far in securing good things for his own county." And yet there are those who would deprive us in precinct three and in Matagorda County, of the services of such a man. I wonder if the voters of this box and others on the east side of the bay will listen to the foul tales being told and take from us a proved, tried, and capable servant, and in his place give us some one without contacts, without experience, without ability to ever in a life time make such valuable contacts. Those who are making charges that border on the criminal better look up the law of libel and be sure of proof before they go farther. Well, anyway, I have not decided how I will cast my two votes. I need a ditch cleaned, the road from my gate to the postoffice put in order and a few loads of gravel hauled into my roadway and as Jed Prutz would say, "I hain't never seen nothin' in doing nothin' for them what hain't never done nothin' fur me."
Just at this point comes Andy Jones with a six pound red fish, so I have made up my mind to vote for Andy Jones for Precinct Commissioner. Any feller who brings in fish can have my votes.
Mrs. Lutie Ramsey, manager of the Ramsey Poultry Farm, took some eggs to market the other day in sufficient quantity to break the market from 12c to 11c. Fine for the consumer, but hell on the producer. Guess it's all right for it appears that the old U. S. A. is not much more than a dish of scrambled eggs.
Oil well still marking time but rumor tells that plans are made for a new hole.
Looks as though we would at last have a causeway to Palacios for the plans are rocking along quite nicely, thank you.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, April 2, 1936 |
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When I write about the dreams of Jimmy, I do not mean Jimmy Gartrell, but Jimmy the pooch. Just at this point a friend comes in for a chat and after lighting up a cigar he inquired what I was writing about for this week’s Tribune and I replied “Thoughts When Jimmy Dreams.” “Say” said he “why not write a word about wolves?” “A word about wolves” I asked, “well what about them?” In reply he said “don’t you know that wolves never way their tails.” So my thoughts go off on a tangent, from dreams to tail wagging. I have met many wolves in my trail rides and I can say that I never saw a wolf wag his tail. One time after a week’s camping in four feet of snow, 100 miles from Cripple Creek, I told the men to load the wagon with camp outfit and return to Cripple while I took my horse and went cross country alone. I carried no rifle, but I did carry a fine wire cutter and I cut several wire fences on that trip. During that afternoon a lobo appeared on the trail perhaps twenty rods ahead, sitting peacefully, watching me with his bright, evil eyes. As I approached, he started on an easy lope. As I increased my speed, he did the same and as I slowed up, he put on the brakes and when I stopped my horse he stopped and resumed his big bushy squat. But he never wagged a single wag, always carrying his big bushy tail hanging down. We kept this game up for perhaps a half hour, maybe more, he playing with me and I with him. He was a big boy, standing at least twenty four inches and perhaps forty inches or more long and I was thankful that he left his family at home. At last I pulled my automatic and took a shot and he quickly bounded into the thicket and silently passed from view, but he never wagged a tail. I have met them in Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico and more than several in Old Mexico and more than once have walked, sat or loped along in front of my horse, but never did one of them wag a tail. I am of the opinion that although they belong to the same family as the dog, that one thing they do not have in common and that is tail wagging. Our dogs use the tail for their flag of friendship, and with it they give welcome to those they love. In my trail journeys, I have met up with lions. Several at different times and they also appeared playful, but no expressive tail. Twice I had a similar experience with brown bears, one of them a female with two cubs and yet the dog only waves his flag. Jimmy, my diminutive Fox Terrier, wags his stubby tail in joyous endeavor to tell me of his joy as I approach and at times he comes mighty near speaking English for he is a great talker and I understand his language and his mine, we have many a long discussion. Jimmy jumps on the couch, curls into a little black ball and soon is sound asleep and from him comes huge snores of sleepy content and after a while his trip into dreamland finds him in pursuit of a rabbit or perhaps a opossum or it might be a rat or cat, but from him comes the cry of the pursuit and the air rings with barks, whines, and shrieks of victory as he downs his dreamland prey, if awakened he wags his little tail as if ashamed of the exhibition but a word from me and he curls up and is soon back in dreamland. I am glad that Jimmy wags his tail and that wolves do not. Jimmy is my fast and loyal friend and he loves me and I love him. When the red wagon of the White House Feed store comes here, I have to watch Jimmy, for that wagon man has fallen hard for Jimmy and would like to do a dog napping job so I watch that there red wagon. Jimmy is so accustomed to eating at the family table that when we place his food in his dish in the kitchen, he brings it into the dining room and insists on eating right by the feet of the miserable wretch. This only shows his artistic breeding and proves that he is a real gentleman. I have owned many dogs, loved them all and they all wagged their tails, but none dreamed as Jimmy dreams and none came so near using good English. No wonder we have a real affection for Jimmy. Jimmy wears a black harness studded with brass studs and he is proud of his dress and actually begs for me to put it on him. He feels dressed up when wearing his harness.
Dog lovers will read with pleasure. Others are at liberty to skip it as unworthy of a place in a religious journal. What care I? I adore my Jimmy dog and he gives me idolization, love and hallowed reverence. He will follow me to riches, to rags, to the banquet table and to the scraps in equal joy for Jimmy loves me. Friends may desert me, property may depart, food may be scarce, winter’s cold may be severe, summer’s heat may blister, but Jimmy will still wag his tail in contentment, happy in adulation for his man. That is why I prefer Jimmy to any of my wolf friends.
Hangin’ aroun’ and listenin’ a feller hears lots of things and so for some time I have been hearing a lot about some of our folk being taxed to pay for the Palacios sea wall. Of course we never voted on any bond issue and sure looks strange that we should be called upon to pay any part of such an obligation. It is a case of taxation without representation as my informant states. Well I knew nothing about it so entered into no argument. I have looked the mater up and here is the explanation. Recognizing the necessity of some protection against erosion on both sides of the bay, the State Legislature by special act, donated 8-9s of the State ad valorem tax for a period of thirty years. The State ad valorem was merely diverted to the seawall commission to pay for this construction and the tax receipts now, instead of showing so much State ad valorem tax, shows the same amount under seawall tax. It is merely a diversion and not a new tax. When the Tax Collector ceased paying this ad valorem tax to the State and does pay it to the depository for the seawall commission, he stamps the account so paid on the tax receipt which is correct. An examination of the tax receipt will reveal that only 1-9 of the ad valorem tax is now collected for the state. If it were not for this donation of 8-9s all of the ad valorem would be entered on the tax receipt and collected and paid over to the State. Any person who desires to become acquainted with this situation may easily find out the truth and he will at once become aware of the fact that he is not paying one penny of new tax. Every day is at some time brightened with visits from friends and so March 31st was flowered with the presence of James Gartrell. We like Jimmy and are glad to have him remember us. He always smiles and sheds joy wherever he goes. Our home is brighter after Jimmy has visited with us.
John B. Heisey has a real strawberry patch which is yielding him such a delicious income that he is no longer interested in the Townsend plan. The berries are large, clean, fine color and well smothered in Holstein cream, provide delectation and joyous transport. He has an income from $1.20 to $2.00 per day at twenty cents per generous quart.
Friends of Mrs. Tom Fulcher are delighted with the news that she is making rapid and satisfactory recovery from a second operation and the promise that she will return to her home during the next ten days.
Well, Saturday we held an election for school trustees. With a voting strength of around 125, only twenty five appeared to exercise their franchise. The vote was as follows Mrs. L. E. Liggett 23; Mr. Frank King 24; Mrs. George Davis 18; Mr. Blackwell 2; Mr. Penland 4; Mr. Bungy; Mr. Harvey 1. For county trustee at large William Cash received 25 votes and for trustee for Precinct 3 John Evans received 22 and Lauderback 3. According to the principal arguments of seekers after office, William Cash has had he office long enough and should allow some other person to have a chance. No matter how long and satisfactorily a man has served, he should be turned out and allow the other fellow a chance. This is the argument nearly all the office seekers give me. Poor argument and does not go far with me.
As a member of the election board, I had the pleasure of receiving Hutchins King’s first vote. Hutchins is a clean cut, upstanding young man and his parents have reason to be proud of him. I suggest that he study the Republican primer and vote that ticket this fall. One of the County meet stunts was held at Gulf Saturday and among those present were Mr. Elliott Curtis, principal of the local school, Mrs. L. E. Liggett, Roberta Liggett and Milford Liggett. They returned just in time to see the polls close. Friday the barometer made a sudden change and popped up thirty points and stood seventeen above normal and now indicates “rain.” Of course if we get rain as we need it and as we want it, there will be no necessity of building the dam across the bay but unfortunately we get rain in gobs and everything is flooded and then comes long periods of moisture. The dam will impound necessary water and allow it to flow out over thirsty land whenever the farmer desires more moisture. The dam is going to be a machine which will lead many a farmer from a continued struggle trying to grow his crop to as near a certainty as farming may be. Many who have never been active in any civic work except on the negative, appear to be busy tossing chunks of iron into the cogs of the machine, in an attempt to frustrate the proposition to build and operate a plant that will not only employ hundreds of men for a long period, give us a passage across the bay which of itself will prove a tempting route. A drive across the bay a mile long will be the attraction no tourist can resist. Besides attracting many tourists, this dam will take most of the gamble from farming. The mosquitoes arguments are mostly bunk. We have the pests in abundance and a plenty of them breed right in back yards in the water collected in empty cans and other rejected receptacles. Mosquitoes do not fly far. If those who detest mosquitoes would begin cleaning up their close by yards of cans, tall grass and weeds, the mosquito pests would rapidly disappear. It does not appear possible to lay this all upon this dam. I have no land to irrigate, so have no personal interest in the impounding of water but I do want a causeway across the bay, have yelled for it for twenty five years. We, meaning I and the miserable wretch, wish to walk across and attend service at St. John’s Chapel. The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, April 9, 1936 |
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Collegeport High School is looking forward with pleasure to the play, “Here Comes Charlie,” given by the faculty of Collegeport School, Friday, April 17, at 8 p. m. Admission is 10c and 25c. The Valedictorian of the Senior class of 1936 is Miss Irwan Blackwell, Aaron Penland is Salutatorian. The Girl Reserves are looking forward to Play Day at Bay City. After Play Day they are planning to give the Seniors a banquet. The school was almost in tears Monday because our superintendent, Mr. John H. Cherry, has gone. Bay City is gaining what Collegeport has lost. We’ll see him as “Uncle Alec Twiggs” in the faculty play, Friday night. We are very pleased with our new English teacher, Mrs. Eleanor Lloyd. We hope we’re not too much for her. The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, April16, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] Reading in the Tribune about the work of the Boy Scouts caused me to remember that the first Scout troop ever formed in this County was here in Collegeport. My first commission as Scout Master was issued in November 1912, a temporary commission, and the permanent one was issued in July 1913. I wanted to take the troops on a hike to Bay City and came on the court house grounds but there were so many objections that the plan was given up. Took them to Palacios one day on a boat trip and Palacios boys tried to gang them and insulted and derided them as a bunch of sissies. Took them to Galveston by water when the Intracoastal Canal was opened. Camped on Galvez Hotel grounds. Received many honors including a call by the Governor of Texas. At the night parade the Troop was led with the Scout Master and Roy Miller at the head. My two commissions are brittle with age, dark brown in color but good scouts. This chilly weather brought to us by a belated norther is what my father use to call “Damned late in the fall.” I am ready for spring and twice ready when I see the miserable wretch shivering around. This weather is just a bit too much and I charge it all on Ben R. Mowery who has charge of our local weather service. He sure has neglected his barometer. Reverend Paul Engle of St. Mark’s Bay City here Tuesday morning for seven o’clock communion service. We had Mrs. Lutie Ramsey as our guest and the service was greatly enjoyed and refreshing. Not many pastors would drive thirty miles on a blustering morning just to give a church service to two “isolates.” June 16th, 1936, communicants and others who may be interested are supposed to make a pilgrimage to Christ Church Matagorda. This is the first Protestant church to organize in the state of Texas, and this is the one hundredth anniversary and really a part of the Texas Centennial plan. While the plans call for a barbecue with plenty of coffee, bread, pickles, visitors are requested to bring their baskets of digestible eatables, enough for themselves and a bite for another fellow. If all will do this there will be plenty of food for the big gang. Inasmuch as it is expected that at least two thousand will make this pilgrimage, it is evident that those in charge will not be able to supply all the food required, hence this suggestion that each one bring along a basket and throw the contents into the big basket so that the multitude may be fed. We expect every communicant in Matagorda County to be present, also that every parish in this diocese will be represented and that every diocese in the state will be there. This is a milestone in Church affairs and remembering that it is really a part of Texas’ great Centennial Celebration the roads to Matagorda should be filled with eager traffic. What a grand thing it would be if the causeway was open for traffic and the road extended into Matagorda. Ask Ed Baker about that. I notice that the County Health Committee will celebrate the death of Jesus with a dance Good Friday night. There being only 365 nights in the year, I wonder why select such a sacred night. Hanging on the Cross brought no health to Jesus, but maybe this dance will bring health to those for whom it is sponsored. O, well, the world must move. Andy Jones, my candidate for precinct commissioner, has decided to withdraw from the race. He tells me that he met Mr. George Harrison the other day and finds that he is a fine looking man, a splendid personality, that he believes him to be an honest servant of the people and therefore he does not think it right to stay in the race and perhaps aid in defeating Mr. Harrison. Of course, I am disappointed for I would like to see Andy Jones elected and then every one on this side would get their ditches dug out, their drives graded, the roads in front of the their farms graded and put in shape and holes in their yards filled up. In such jobs as these Mr. Harrison has failed as can be proven by the many complainers. When so many complain that their ditch needs cleaning, there must be truth in the stories that Mr. Harrison is neglecting his duty as a servant of the people. With the elimination of Andy Jones I can see my dreams of improving the road from my gate to the P. O. vanish as well as other much desired improvements. In my opinion the first duty of a commissioner is to always give the people what they ask for. This should be done regardless of expense or whereinthehell will the cash come from. Any commissioner who fails to grant every request is a complete dud. Mr. Harrison in defense tells us that he is limited by the lack of money but may the Lord forgive him for this statement. We all know that all he is required to do is to report to one of the cubicles in Washington that $2,350,005.10 is required for work in precinct 3 and in a whisker’s wink the cash would be in the bank. When he fails to ask for this money he flops on his constituents. Maybe I can get Jed Prutz to run, for we sure need a man who will get the cash and giveeverysonofagun what he desires. If Jed Prutz refuses to stand, I’ll give my two votes to Harrison for looking over the three candidates. I believe that Uncle Archibald will do more for us in real service than both the other two in combined efforts. And further if the two opponents live to be 96 years old and wave whiskers four feet long, I don’t believe that in all that time they would ever hear the Governor of the State of Texas address them as Grover or Ray. This is nothing against them personally for both are nice boys, but they just don’t know the howtomix game and George Harrison knows it and all its mystic maze and from his visits into that mystic land he more than often brings to us contacts of much value. Well, anyway, I hope Andy Jones will not be sore and still bring me some fish. The Woman’s Club met Thursday in the library with a good attendance. Mrs. Cherry had charge of the program each number being of unusual interest. Mrs. Liggett read a paper on Folk Songs of Texas; Mrs. Heisey read about the Kansas capital and illustrated it with a beautiful fotograph of the capital in winter; Mrs. Clapp delivered an address on Music and Art. Miss Charlie May Carter, representing the Girl Reserves, gave an interesting explanation of the budget plan for handling Reserve funds. Because of an epidemic of children diseases, the library will be closed for a few weeks. The next meeting of the club will be a luncheon for the Girl Reserves and their mothers to be held at Mopac House. S. O. Eidman here Friday, and said, “I am just mopping up.” He told us that he had made personal visits to more than eighty percent of the homes in Matagorda County and would now devote his time to Palacios and Bay City. He has made a good impression in this place and also votes. He had brought his wife along it is possible to have captured this box. Mrs. Patricia Martyn was here Thursday with Mr. L. H. Dennis of Chicago. Mr. Dennis is an expert on foot correction and wished to talk with the pupils of the school, but was refused permission. No harm would have been done had the children been taught the virtue of washing their feet. Saturday came Ruth and Naomi Harrison having a short vacation from the University. The girls are making good grades and Ruth has recently been highly honored by her teachers. With them can Katherine Mallett and Lawson Meadows both University students. Katherine is a good sized girl, but Lawson stands about 6 feet 6 inches and built along generous lines. Just a pre-Easter visit and greatly appreciated. Woman’s Union held a bake sale Saturday and served coffee and doughnuts etc. and did a splendid business. At the primary on the 25th they will have another sale and provide lunch. Received many Easter cards, some candy, basket of eggs, letters and one Tribune reader sent a check for two depreciated dollars. “So you’ll remember me on Sunday.” Well we had a fine Easter day even if we were “isolated.” I am still waiting for those fotographs of the Port Arthur peaches and writing about peaches, what about Frances King home from San Marcos. Have not seen her, but don’t have to for in my mind’s mirror I see her with her golden hair, bright eyes, charming face a symphony in delicate creams and pinks. With her came Rosalie Nelson, also on vacation, and it is marvelous what a year away from home does will do for a girl. Rosalie has grown in poise and charm and has developed a sweetness and graciousness that is very becoming. Two fine girls both products of the old home burg. A beautiful Ester card reminds me that my only “vice” is still alive. I was beginning to worry for when a man has only one “vice” he dislikes to lose that sweet remembrance. I trust she will continue to be true to me in memory of our happy past. Hey?
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, April
16, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article about T.
O. Walton, Roy Miller Now that Andy Jones has [with]drawn from the race and Jed Prutz refuses to stand simply because his old woman told him to cut out politics, there is nothing for me to do, but cast my two votes for Harrison and I hope he will be elected, for maybe he will clean out my ditch, but if he does the work will have to be done this week for I know that after election not a damn stroke of work will be done for two years. I still hope Andy Jones will bring me some fish. Had Mr. and Mrs. George Harrison and Mrs. Lutie Ramsey as guests Thursday for dinner. The piece de resistance was a six inch middle cut from that wonderful Swift’s premium ham and when placed on the table all golden and rosy with the trimmings and topped with slices of pineapple, was a picture worthy of an advertisement in the Saturday Evening Post or any other old paper. I cooked it in what is known as a la Homecroft. The recipe may be had by cutting out the coupon to be found in this day’s Tribune and sending it to Mirth’s Kute Kitchen Korner. Mirth will do the rest. George Harrison spent the day fixing up some political fences, adding new wires, as to keep the ponies in. Us Homecrofters had a very happy red letter day and are still living in memories. The grandest thing in the world is the possession of loving friends. Just received a new riddle, “consistency is the watchword of patience.” Our Justice of the Peace will not stand for election again giving as his reason his impaired hearing. I have been asked to become the Justice, but have declined because I have impaired sight. If they would elect Seth with his good eyesight and me for my good hearing, the people would have a fine Justice team. Ruby is an economical girl. Sent me a postal card with just five printed lines informing me that
(a) “I shall not be able to make a personal call; That’s all good stuff, but I still think it would do Ruby no harm if she would get down in the brush and tall grass and visit out with the good folk and eat a snack with us. A postal card is only a card, but a good talkover is something else. Okehdokey. The local school put on an entertainment called The Faculty Show. I did not attend simply because one of the springs and screws in my wooden leg was out of order and I took it off for repairs. I am informed that the house was packed and the S. R. O. sign was hung to the door. The show was so entertaining and there were so many recalls that it was midnight when the curtain dropped on the last act. As a result, the school must be wallowing in cash. During wet weather the road to the cemetery is at times almost impassable. The King’s Daughters are asking the precinct Commissioner to do the grading. This is such a necessary work that I expect some ___ lumber will go up there this ____. The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, April 23, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] Here is some local oil news. Mrs. Boeker, who operates the Ruth Café at the oil well east of this place, has been requested by the Continental Co. to be ready to open at a moment’s notice and she informs us that much equipment is being made ready to move from Seadrift to Collegeport. I also have information from a well known oil operator that a high official of the Continental Company said that funds had been voted and ear marked for drilling a new hole close by the present derrick and that the company was satisfied that provided they met no trouble in drilling, that a big producer would result. You folks who live outside the state and own property here, may read this with belief or not, as you choose, but it is the last news I have. The White Man’s Union Primary is a thing of the past for the year. Many of the positions were fiercely contested for, but as a rule the campaign was decently conducted. In Precinct three great interest centered on the race for commissioner. The present officer has many bitter enemies, but he has more loving friends. The vote was as follows: Harrison 578; Lawson 382; Phillips 140. This gives Harrison a majority of 57 and a lead over Lawson by 197. It was a great victory for those who stand for continued progress along well defined plans. The Harrison house was opened for the entertainment of congratulating friends and about 200 called. Friends drove from Bay City, Wharton, Freeport, Blessing, Houston, Matagorda, to present their congratulations. Telephone calls from Austin, San Antonio, Dallas, Ft. Worth, Houston, Freeport and other points, and one from distant New York. It was a happy joyous crowd and the home was filled with laughter, until two in the morning. Being present I had the pleasure of meeting many of my old time friends and for that reason I had a very happy time. The Harrison home is a hospitable place where guests easily and comfortably fit into the home life. Here in Collegeport, George Harrison received his usual vote of confidence, having a lead of 26. The results prove that those who are interested in a comprehensive plan for development are still determined that there shall be no change at least until certain works are completed. Well, any way, “The Ten Thousand Dollar Beauty stays.”Election night was a gala night at the Pavilion, where more than two hundred danced the hours away to the titillating rhythm of Pete Gardner’s musical tooters. I am happy to report that Jack Barnett looks in fine physical condition and if it be true that he is the “King of Palacios” the people of that burg should be glad to have such a well preserved king. Most of our local kiddies with their mothers journeyed to Bay City to attend the Girl Reserve round-up so the town had a deserted appearance. Two trucks carried most of them and many cars the balance. We, meaning I and the miserable wretch, hit the hay at two in the morning, but that night we hunted the shucks at seven and enjoyed shut eye until six the next morning.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, April
30, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] Collegeport Day falls on Monday May 25, and for this reason it is suggested that the town’s birthday be celebrated on Tuesday. Monday is not a convenient day for manifest reasons. It is suggested that the usual get together community dinner be served; that we have an address by some speaker in the after dinner hour; that the Girl Reserves have a meeting in the early evening; that Mopac House be opened for a dance from nine until twelve. This program is being carried out partially and more complete information will be given next week. June 16th, will occur the great trek or pilgrimage to Christ Church, Matagorda. Every one is invited to participate in this Matagorda County Centennial feature. In as much as it is impossible for the committee to feed the multitude that will be present, it is suggested that each group bring a basket of food which will be amalgamated with the other baskets and with the twelve yearlings, the several tons of ice, the six carloads of bread, the twelve barrels of pickles, the three hundred pounds of coffee, the ten barrels of sugar and the fifty gallons of rich cream, it is felt that hunger will be just unknown. A splendid program is being arranged and a regular gala day for all parts of Texas. This is a celebrated anniversary of the establishment of the first protestant church in Texas. Take a day off and remember that you will also on that day celebrate the seventy fourth birthday of the writer of “Thoughts.” It is with sorrow that I write of the passing of two persons who for many years were identified with the community life. Mrs. D. H. Morris died Sunday, April 26th in Houston, age 68 years. She was our neighbor for many years and here her children were born and grew up. D. H. Morris operated a store next place east of the present Boeker store. Left to mourn the passing of the mother is Adolph, Albert, John, Fanny May and Lizzie Will, all married and among them five grandchildren. The same day chronicled the passage of one of the most substantial characters. P. A. Richman was born in Des Moines, Iowa, March 10th, 1856, and was therefore more than four score years of age. The funeral was held from the Taylor Brothers Funeral Home, Palacios, at 4 p. m., April 28th. The long line of autos bearing several hundred folks to the cemetery testified the place Mr. Richman held in the affections of the people of this section. Left here to mourn his passing are Mrs. Richman, two sons and a daughter. Mr. Richman has for years been a successful farmer of rice and has been identified with agricultural development in a practical way. We sent to the bereaved ones in both these families our sympathy and good wishes for the years left to them. Under date of April 19th, and mailed at Opelousas, Clifford and Odessa [Franzen] invite me to “come up and see us some time.” And now I understand that Clifford raided the Magee peach orchard and carried the delicious peach to Houston where he was married to her Sunday the 26th. The entire Franzen family went up to witness the ceremony. Clifford is a splendid young man and Odessa has secured a good husband. In Odessa, Clifford has gained a sweet, dainty, cultured young woman, who unless I am no longer a judge, will meet the married situations and care for them in a practical way ad be a home keeper and loyal pard. Still, at the same time I am feeling a bit sore, for have not received that foto of me between two peaches. Looking over the figures for the voting at the White Man’s Union Primary I wondered at the huge vote and it appears to me that every one who had slipped his diddie or was not nailed up in his coffin was allowed to vote. Along about 1911 I took a contract from a Kansas Homeseeker to supply 10,000 trifoliata trees. I bought the seed and drilled it and soon had what looked like a billion plants. My party planned to bud these young plants with Satsuma buds and after planting twenty acres for himself place balance on the market. Before delivery was made my contract died and his estate refused to carry on so I was left with my billion trees. One day along came a bunch of snoopers of the Federal Department of Agriculture and looked over my trees and ordered them destroyed. This was a kindly act and I thanked them. I hardly knew how to clean them out. The other day came a big car with the insignia of the Federal Department emblazoned on the door and two fine young men alighted and introduced themselves as W. K. Klore of Rio Hondo and Wallace Red of Houston, representing the Federal Department and informed me that because of my history, they thought I might still have some trifoliate and sure enough they found ten thrifty plants but none diseased. They promised to have them destroyed and I hope they will for it will save me doing it. They are working under the U. S. Department of Agriculture employees relief labor in Matagorda County and through them I was supplied with the following information by Henry W. Bond, headquarters in Bay City and supervisor of the project in Matagorda County. The U. S. Department of Agriculture has employed 25 relief laborers in Matagorda County to eradicate citrus canker. Additional men will be employed next week. Citrus canker is the most dreaded disease of citrus trees and approximately $5,000,000 has been spent on the work. The disease has been eradicated in all of the United States except the Gulf Coast area of Texas and Louisiana where it is rapidly being stamped out. This work is being done as a protection to our great citrus industry in the Rio Grande Valley and should receive the co-operation of all citizens. In order to eradicate this disease, the infected tree must be destroyed. Citrus trifoliate is very susceptible to the disease and as they are of no commercial value they are being destroyed by relief labor as a preventative measure against another outbreak of the disease. I shall willingly give my co-operation in this necessary work. Thursday us Homecrofters were entertained by a dinner party at the Ramsey poultry farm. It is not necessary to state that the principle article on the ancient mahogany was from the poultry pens of this celebrated farm. Dumplings, light as an Angel’s kiss floated in delicious golden gravy (O, gravy) cream spuds whipped in feathery lightness. Grand dewberry pie, coffee from Rio or some other good coffee place, Holstein cream. O, boy, I am telling you that it was a grand event and we are thankful that we were favored. Mr. Ainsworth brought us a mess of new spuds of the red variety. I am fond of red so that made the spuds extra fine. Also a sack of snap beans all from his wonderful garden down by the bay shore. We have received an invitation to attend the Sixtieth Annual Commencement at College Station May 28th, 29th and 30th. The Baccalaureate Sermon will be delivered by the Right Reverend William Theodotus Capers D. D. Episcopal Bishop of West Texas. Address by Colonel Ousley, journalist of Ft. Worth. Conferring the degrees, Honorable F. M. Law, President Board of Directors. The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, May 7, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.]
“Jes want to lay in the sun and snore
To see my cork a bobbin’ in the slough
Jes now a cat grabs onto my worm
Go away cat! Go away trout and let me sleep
The flowers close their eyes, the day is through --Fragments from Hack. When my “Vice” got through with her wonderful poem, she felt relieved, so I now know all about the feeling. Just had this jingle in my head and now it’s gone and I feel relief. After weeks of negotiating, I have succeeded in acquiring all the stock of the celebrated Ramsey farm. Added to my poultry pens I now have quite a bunch of extra fine hens. The stock I secured from the Ramsey farm consists of very heavy, producing hens. Maybe some day I will have an egg and then us Homecrofters will eat once more. For two days we have enjoyed (?) a stiff thirty-five mile gale which is not as pleasant as might be. High tide, big waves dashing against the sea wall, barometer normal, expecting it will end in rain. I am informed that the school board has employed Elliott Curtis as superintendent, Miss Ross, Mrs. Hensley and the fourth teacher from Wharton. Also North Cable retained as janitor. No sooner did the men return and begin work on the oil well than orders came to cease operations and begin to take down and move all buildings, equipment of all kinds and take down the derrick and that is now going on and yet my friends inform me that the Conoco still plan on starting another hole in the near future. Hope so, but no one knows although many act wise and make a guess. How many know the meaning of “cul de sac.?” It is a place where one is unable to go farther and a splendid example of “cul de sac” is this burg of Collegeport. We live at the end of the road and in a “cul de sac.” The only expectation of relief rests in the construction of the proposed dam (some spell it damn) across the bay. When that is completed we will be able to live by the road and watch the race of men go by. We have received an invitation to be present at the A. & M celebration of “Mother’s and Dad’s” day lasting all day Saturday and Sunday. An elaborate program completely filling both days has been arranged and music will have large part in the event. I am glad they recognize the “old man.” What could we do without Daddy? Collegeport has been honored by the selection of Mr. W. H. Boeker as a delegate to the State Democratic Convention. No democratic convention can be a success without plenty of whiskey and there being oceans of it so we trust Mr. Boeker keeping faith with the home folks will remember that we are strict pros. While Democrats are lovers of 100 per cent proof, us Republicans adore the more refined drinks of gin and rum and so our convention ship will be launched in a tub of these delicious stimulants. And by the way, I hope that before June 6th, that some one will drink enough gin to feel wicked enough to give the G. O. P. elephant a swift kick just below the caudle appendage. Saturday night, en route to the dance at Palacios, came Vernon Hurd and Mrs. Valers Blackwell for an almost midnight call. Came about 9:30 and stayed an hour. A very pleasant visit was enjoyed and we hope we will again be honored.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, May
14, 1936 |
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The past week has been one of a well filled program. Five young people finished the high school course and honoring them each day has been one of program, banquets, luncheons, picnics. Some of them, no doubt, consider that they are through. Others feel that they are just beginning. To me these youths have finished the first lap in the race of life and have reached the fork of the roads. One leads on to the gratification of new ambition for increased education. The other fork leads back to a rather uneventful life with perhaps some material success, but withholding a broader and more satisfactory existence. As they stand here at the forks, trembling, hesitating. I wish I might be by their side and give them a leaf from my own life. Each must choose. It is of course quite tempting when an offer is made of a position, of farming, or some other business, for then such person looks mostly to quick present returns in coin. I am inclined to believe that the one who acquires additional education, will be the one who goes farthest and wins the race. It is a critical time in the life of youth, this coming to the fork of the road and we trust that the wise choice will be made. My great grandfather used to tell me the story of the barber who placed a sign outside his shop reading, “What do you think? I’ll shave you for nothing and give you a drink.” While doing the shaving act, his partner would go out and change the punctuation so it read “What! Do you think I’ll shave you for nothing and give you a drink?” Our local barber gave me a swell hair cut the other day, refused pay, and as I was ready to leave handed me a drink. That’s the sort of service our local tonsorial artist gives and that’s the reason he keeps his trade. I am rejoicing because for the first time I know exactly where to find my “vice.” After galloping all about the country, she has been caught and is in the Huntsville pen. She reports that they feed her well and that all is well. From what I learn, she must be employed in the wagon shop. It is just where she belongs and I am glad that at last she has been apprehended. Now when I wish to see her I just know where she may be found. This gal has caused me much grief and worry, but from this hour I shall be calm. Warden, please allow me to see number 71,444. The Baccalaureate sermon for the class of 1936 was delivered Tuesday night by Reverend Geo. Gillespie of Palacios. The auditorium was well filled and this, in spite of the rains and poor road conditions. Reverend Gillespie has rendered a similar service on previous occasions and always delivers a message of faith in the future. His words do not fail to send youth away with new impressions of the problems of life. The room was profusely decorated with wild and cultivated flowers in pots and masses. A pilgrim is a fellow who visits a holy place or a shrine and a Pilgrimage is the act of walking or using an auto for the purpose of visiting the holy place. June 16th, the holy place and shrine will be Christ Church, Matagorda, and it is expected that several hundred pilgrims will be present that day to honor the early boys who started the first Protestant church in Texas. According to latest advices there will be foodlets in abundance with plenty to drink and a delightful musical and speaking program is being arranged. It will be a gala day, a day to meet old friends, renew old contacts and glorify Matagorda’s part in Texas’ Great Centennial of which it is a part. One hundred years ago the settlers made the journey. Nancy Sutton lives one and half miles from the school truck. She has walked this three miles every day since school began last fall and never missed a day and has never been tardy. We doff our hat to Nancy Sutton with her red blazed head. Wednesday night, in spite of the muddy roads and heavy rain, a goodly audience gathered at the Church house to honor the five young folk who finished the high school grades. Decorations from the night before with beautiful additions made the auditorium a bower of beauty. The following program was rendered:
Invocation – Burton D. Hurd Because of decreased scholastic population, this will be the last high school commencement until and when we can secure an increase in scholastic population and much to our regret it becomes necessary to send our high school pupils to another school. Blessing, Palacios, Markham and Bay City are bidding for the business. Most of our folk prefer Palacios, but the final decision rests with the board. The board was organized with Mrs. Frank King as President and M. S. Holsworth as Secretary. It is hoped that arrangements can be made for the collection of delinquent taxes and thus provide the funds needed for the coming session. Thursday night the Girl Reserves tendered a banquet in Mopac House in honor of the graduates. Tables were laid for fifty services. Streamers in the national colors depended from the ceiling to the tables and the tables were covered with white linen and the red, white and blue prominent. Flowers, both wild and cultivated, in profusion. The menu consisted of a salad, pressed meat loaf, string beans, scalloped potatoes, hot buns, butter, little cups filled with candy mints, ice cream and Angel food cake. All very beautiful and the service rendered by the pretty girl reserves was all that might be asked for. Mrs. Eleanor Chapman Lloyd acted as toastmistress and she handled the job to perfection in a very graceful and gracious manner. She is a sweet young woman and many of us regret that she will now leave us. The program was as follows:
Invocation – Harry Austin Clapp The auditorium was brilliant with the electric light and with the colorful decorations the scene was one of beauty, in other words it was a swell banquet and reflected great credit on the Girl Reserves. But back there in the kitchen was found the girls behind the guns, in the person of Mesdames Liggett, Gutger, Jones, Nelson, Lashbrook. Upon these faithful souls was the work of hundreds of dishes, glasses, silver and they did it as they always do. How could we ever do without these faithful, sweet, willing, wonderful women. Guess the machine would stop ticking. Sitting here I can see no one to take their places. Place cards were big red stars entwined with a scroll bearing the numerals 1936 and name of the guest. We give honor to this Centennial Class and pray that where ever the life line leads that God will go with them and richly bless them. Friday noon the Woman’s Club, sponsors to the Girl Reserves, tendered a luncheon to the Girl Reserves and their mothers. Mrs. Burton D. Hurd, President of the Club, presided. Mrs. Hurd delivered a splendid message to the Reserves and Mrs. L. E. Liggett gave an interesting report of the Mother’s banquet she attended in Bay City. Each person present gave a tribute to mother or daughter, or both. This affair was given out as a “bastemente” but it proved to be a Royal Repast which would have honored a King. Friday night two bus loads went to Bay City to attend the County graduation exercises from seventh to eighth grade. Saturday, accompanied by several teachers, two bus loads drove to Hurd’s Landing and enjoyed a real picnic under the beautiful oaks and by the side of the Palacios River. Thus ended the festivities of the week. Saturday we had the pleasure of a call from Melvin Spoor and we were pleased to see him and to know that he thought of us. He was here for the purpose of taking Mrs. Spoor back to Sandy Point. She taught here the past two years and by her work in the community has endeared herself to our folk. Monday being the 25th of May our people will hold their annual Collegeport Birthday party and have a community dinner to which all are invited. Might be a good time for some of the Court House crowd to make us a visit. This has been an annual event for twenty-seven years. There may and there may not be a dance that night in Mopac House. There will be if we can arrange for music and sufficient interest is shown. No orchestra desires to play unless they are properly paid. If the young folk of this place wish to dance that night it might be well for them to indicate their wishes to the manager of Mopac House. Every day the climate program calls for an electric storm with much rain. This has been going on for weeks and many farmers are quite disgusted. Mopac changes time Sunday the 17th and our mail beginning Monday will leave the post office at ten a. m., instead of two p. m. and arrive at noon instead of 3:30.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, May
21, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] I am asking God to spare my life so that June 16th I reach my seventy-fourth birthday, the day when several hundred will join me at Matagorda. It is a great Centennial event and God willing, I’ll be there and meet Ed Baker and Mrs. George Culver. It appears to me impossible to make a closer contact with God than during the Eucharist service. Then prayer brings a freshness, a cleanliness, a satisfying, a relief from sin. Man leaves this service another being. Well now that I have relieved myself of a few thoughts about prayer, suppose we pray. “O living Christ, make us conscious now [of] Thy healing nearness. Touch our eyes that we may see Thee; open our ears that we may hear Thy voice; enter our hearts that we may know Thy love. Overshadow our souls and bodies with Thy presence that we may partake of Thy strength, Thy love and Thy healing life. Amen.” --Forward. Here I give some facts not generally known. When our present commissioner took the office, precinct three did not own one penny worth of equipment. When it needed tools, they were borrowed from the county’s general tool chest. Today precinct three owns for its sole use tools to the value of $20,000. Up until a few years ago the largest sum at the disposal of the commissioner was $7,000. Last year he spent on his precinct about $27,000. It seems to be true that the “proof of the pudding is in the eating.” Every other day the Chronicle carries a short skit “Pull Up A Chair.” The other day it told the story of a meeting of ladies who played a game which required each of them to wear something that suggested the name of a book. One elderly lady displayed across her breast a picture of the Dionne quints and underneath the words, “It can’t happen here.” This referred to Sinclair’s book by the same name. As I laugh at that tale, My thoughts went back to 1900 in Cripple Creek to a similar meeting of ladies. Displayed on a table were various articles, each suggesting the name of some Colorado town. Among those articles was a safety pin. All guessed and failed, except the one bright eyed little lady who looking it over said “Aspen.” Who do you suppose that lady was? She was the one you folks know as the miserable wretch. You bet I was proud of my lady. The new Missouri Pacific schedule effective Sunday the 17th is as follows so far as we are interested.
South Bound
North Bound Numbers 15 and 16 will not stop at El Maton except to discharge passengers holding tickets issued by a division point or a connecting line. The local mail leaves the postoffice at 10 a. m. and arrives as 12:05 p. m. Thursday the King’s Daughters held their regular monthly meeting in the Church House with good attendance. The usual feast of good eatables and the interesting religious program filled the hours. Taking advantage of their presence, the Reserve Sponsors decided who of the Reserves would attend the camp this year as a result Misses Roberta Liggett and Irwon Blackwell were designated. These girls will have about two weeks of camp life and should learn many new ideas about the reserve work. The library was open Friday, but because of the closed school, few books were placed out. The library will be open in June, but closed during July and August. These two months are busy ones for those in charge for during this period, books are repaired, out books called in and a general house cleaning is indulged in. The time for the Great Pilgrimage to Christ Church Matagorda is nearer and on June 16th, several hundred people will be present to honor those who one hundred years ago established the church. All the Bishops of Texas will be present and many Priests of the Church. The program will include Baptismal and Confirmation service and the Holy Eucharist. Several addresses and many fine songs will round out a program of interest. O, by the way, we must not forget the barbecue, for that means a well filled tummy and with that most any man is ready for praise or song. Put in plenty of lube, water and gas, and don’t forget to blow up the tires and then roll on rubber over Matagorda’s swell pavements. The fathers made the trip with ox teams or horseback over poor trails. For twenty four hours, beginning Saturday, we have enjoyed a downpour of rain that is estimated to have been twelve inches. Everything is flooded—bar pits overflowing, roads a sea, Pilkington slough overflowed its banks and formed a huge lake that extended from the bay way beyond the Collegeport store. Floods cover the fields and many acres of crops are in ruins. Farmer who have not planted will be unable to do so for many days if at all. In 1909 on May 25th we had a similar rain. It came at night after the festivities of Collegeport’s first birthday. Us Homecrofters were ready to go back to Chicago, but were assured by G. M. Magill that it was only a shower so accepting his word, we stayed and have since been several such showers. If fish follow up into our present lake, some of them may be caught when the water goes out and perhaps we will have fish for dinner. At this moment it looks bad for a successful Collegeport Day on the morrow, but some two will be there and the day observed. A letter from Lutie Ramsey announces her safe arrival at Springfield. Hope she enjoys the visit, and that this fall we may have her back on the Ramsey farm. Our commissioner, George Harrison, here Friday looking over the road conditions and planning considerable new work. Machinery being moved from the oil well, but rumor persists that a new hole will be drilled. One of the major companies here with two big trucks, one marked “Explosives” and the men have put down many test holes covering the town site. Hope they have good results for we all need some oil. It is reported that the final approval of the dam project has been received and now engineers are at work making plans and specifications and it is reported unofficially that work will begin sometime in July. When the dam is completed and the road bed provided, there is a chance for this burg to put on its party clothes. The Palacios Chamber of Commerce is distributing some beautiful road maps which are a credit to the Chamber. They neglected to put Collegeport on the map and as I observed the neglect felt pretty sore. It was not a fine thing to do. They should have been more thoughtful. Guess we will get out a folder and leave off “The City By The Sea.” They also left off College Station. I wonder howinthehell any one can find College Station with this imperfect map. College Station polls 680 votes and could feed the entire Palacios population at one time in the mess hall and do it in twenty minutes. It has a population of more than five thousand and its post office does more business in a day than Palacios does in a week and yet it has no place on the map. O well, some day those boys will wake up and realize that shrimp fishing is not the only thing in life. The business men of Palacios showed how small they are, when they refused to publish congratulations to the new Arnold store. It was a time for showing of a spirit of good fellowship but they failed to respond. No wonder the Beacon solicitor feels a bit azure. I have used the hammer freely, but guess no harm has been done. Just passing along advice that if any of you readers plan to visit Texas this year and wish to see the greatest Agricultural College in the world and “Big Little Collegeport” do not use a Palacios road map. Use a Missouri Pacific folder which locates both these important places. Missed a little bantam the other day. Barn cat looked extra well fed. Decided cat had killed and eaten hen so put her to trial and she was convicted and sentenced to execution. Just before the shot was fired, found the hen in a hidden nest on more eggs than she could cover and draped around her much like a fur boa about a lady’s neck was Mrs. Cat purring away and trying to help make the hatch. Pardon issued. Cat is full of kittens and not of chickens. When hatch is completed, which will be the mama the hen or the cat? The Matagorda “Treasure” Rose Langham Newman, sent me a sweet birthday card just thirty days in advance, but I hereby give thanks for the beautiful remembrance. Great to have remembering friends. Hope Rose will meet me at Matagorda June 16th.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, May
28, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] He was weary in body, but strong in spirit. His saddle bore all he owned and the luggage consisted of his vestments, a few clothes and priceless communion vessels. This traveler was the Reverend Caleb Ives intent on carrying the work of Jesus to the new settlement. Arriving, he was given hearty welcome and finding eleven souls, he at once organized Christ Church Parish, the first to be organized in this new land. This then is the first Church and the First Parish to be given life in what is now Texas. To honor these pioneer folk, June 16, a new caravan will make the journey, but it will roll along on rubber, over splendid cement pavements and what required days in the old time, will this trip be covered in minutes. This is Matagorda’s great part in the Centennial celebration about which all Texas is concerned. It is an interesting historical fact, that the first celebration of the Holy Communion in the Republic of Texas took place in Matagorda, as did the first Episcopal Convention of the clergy at that time numbering three men. The Diocese of Texas was organized in Matagorda January 1, 1849. The program for the day will begin at 10 a. m. with a sermon by the Right Reverend Harry Moore, Bishop of Dallas. Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Communion. At 12:30 p. m. a barbecue luncheon will be served to all registered guests. At 2 p. m. visits will be made to places of historical interest in and around Matagorda. At 8 p. m. a brief meeting of the Southwest Convocation will be held. Everyone, regardless of religious or political faith is invited to join this celebration, so join the caravan and make the pilgrimage to Matagorda June 16, 1936, letting Reverend Paul E. Engle of Bay City, know of your intention to be present. Short talks by visiting Bishops, the Clergy, Reverend DuBoise, Murphy, Roy Miller and Eugene Wilson will delight the caravaners. Bring along your lunch basket, so you may participate in the community dinner. You are therefore cordially invited to attend the Centennial Pilgrimage to Christ Church, Matagorda, Texas, “Mother Parish” of the State of Texas, June 16, 1936. Sincerely yours,
The Rt. Rev. Clinton S. Quinn, D. D. P. S.—Reverend Paul Engle, Bay City, wants to know “effen youall goes or not.” School is out and so Elliott Curtis, desiring activity, employs himself as an onion picker and when tired of that, breaks wild horses. Because of his weight, something like three hundred pounds, the horse soon gets tired of his attempts to throw the rider and settles down to a staid old hoss. Proves that even a teacher is good for other purposes. Well, May 25, Collegeport’s Birthday, dawned as usual with heavy threatening clouds, heavy mud roads and the usual rain so I did not expect much of a crowd. At 11:30 put on rubber boots, a raincoat, grabbed my basket of digestibles and plowed through the mud to the Community House, where I arrived about noon. No one there, so waited until 12:30 p. m. and no one appearing, the program opened with Invocation, the singing the Doxology and Nearer My God to Thee. My lunch bag contained seven boiled eggs, six four-inch latticed dewberry pies, six sandwiches, head lettuce, young onions, six cup custards, sweet pickles. After luncheon was a waiting period, but as one o’clock approached and I was still solo, I gave the Benediction and closed the exercises. When I arrived at the postoffice about 1:15 found the Corporon Klan consisting of Percy, Gaines and Richard with their families and lunch baskets, but when informed that the affair was over, they returned to their homes. At 1:45 came the Reverend and Mrs. Paul Engle, the former all ready to give an address so they too, turned about then took the cement trail to Bay City. Well anyway, the string that attaches us to that day in May 1909 was not broken and so the day passed with the usual downpour of water which was not needed. Some days ago the local postoffice was flooded with notices from the San Antonio office that first class mail was held for postage due in the sum of one and one-half cents. I guess all of us hastened to send the required postage and secure the letter. In a few days along came a beautiful flowered card giving notice of the arrival of Mary Ann Waters on May 15th, 1936, and weighing six pounds and one ounce. Don’t forget that ounce for it adds sweetness to the Angel girl that God gave to Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Waters. When I read the name Mary Ann I thought of the time of one ring circuses and singing clowns and one that all clowns sang about Mary Ann.
“My Mary Ann is a teacher Now who knows but that this little Mary Ann will grow up and become as accomplished a teacher as her mamma was. Her mamma was half French and half Austrian, sturdy stock, but the mamma was born in America. Louise Walter was raised in Collegeport, became a teacher in the local school and by her sweet intelligence and charm was endeared to all who knew her. Swell girl was and is Louise. I hope that after while Mary Ann will have a brother. Grandpa and Grandma are so proud that they hesitate to associate with people who have no grandchildren. You see, had the parents used a printed card and enclosed it in an unsealed envelope one and one-half cents would have carried it but they wrote in the name, date and weight and it became first class matter and required three cents. Cost me five cents to find out what it was all about and glad was I to learn that Raymond and Louise had at last made the grade and here I give hearty good wishes and the development of a lovely daughter into a useful woman. Wednesday we were delighted to have a visit from Frances Mayfield, one time our County Health Nurse. Frances drove all the way from Corpus Christi, in about two and half hours and then hung up on the culvert in front of Homecroft. There her car stuck until half after five when, with the help of Andy Jones, we got the Ford V-8 into the yard. Frances has made good recovery from the terrible accident which required many months before she was able to resume her work. We had a joyous twenty-four hours and watched her leave with regret. Frances King and Rosalie Nelson home from San Marcos. These girls are making good and soon Texas will have two more accomplished teachers. Have not seen Rosalie, but Frances looks like a fine full blown yellow rose. If I had a brother, I would see that he met Frances. Saturday and Sunday were perfect days and we soon forgot the long rain period. That is the way with us humans. Warm sun riding high in azure blue. Birds singing happily as they seek desirable places for nesting. Flowers look up with shining faces all adrip with diamond sparkles. Grass looking fresh and green and gently waving in the cool breeze. The tide softly purrs along the shore of Pilkington slough. Little wavelets, with musical notes spray along the seawall. Fish give joyous leaps. Dogs bark a new note. Hens are busy singing their song. Children are laughing. Crawfish casting up their protection levees. Well it looks as though “God is high in His Heavens. All is well with the world.”
The Matagorda County Tribune, June 4, 1936 |
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June 16th is a historic date, for on that date two wonderful characters first saw the light. I refer to Gustave V of Sweden, the great King who invaded Germany and carried to a successful conclusion that great war for the preservation of his religion. Successful even though it cost his life, and it is also the birth date of that other character known as the writer of Thoughts. On that day he will reach four years of life beyond the three score and ten. Isn’t that a very wonderful thing? The writer of this column never engaged in war, but he has taken much from life. He has seen the wheel go round and round. He has witnessed the development of a new civilization. The telegraph, telephone, autoe, airplane, radio, streamline trains, air condition, making ice by boiling water, hard surfaced roads, television and many other things that to the present generation appear common. He is well pleased with life and so on this day he accepts the temptation to write one more word about the great day on June 16th, when the great caravan will start for Matagorda. If one will sit by the side of the road on next Tuesday, one may see the race of men go by. One covered wagon will follow another, until a vast congregation will gather at the mouth of St. Mary’s Bayou and there participate in Matagorda County’s part in Texas’ great Centennial celebration. This then is a fine invitation for all readers of this column to go to Matagorda June 16th, and meet the writer of Thoughts. It will be a gala day filled with pleasant home coming thoughts and the privilege of coming close to God, for who can participate in the Communion of that day and not feel the near presence? Not only will there be plenty of food for hungry souls, but barbecues and lunch baskets will satisfy the cravings of the human tummy. Friends will meet and exchange merry greetings. Visits will be made to historic places. Places until this day unknown to most of the visitors. We have been so busy with the daily problems of life that most of us have forgotten what happened in Matagorda one hundred years ago, but when the shades of night are drawn on that day all of us will remember. Religious freedom and history was written in indelible characters that day when Father Ives founded the first Episcopal Parish in Texas. So then, come on down June 16th, and “Meet Us Face to Face.” This is the last shot. Say, these here lin-o-type fellers are strange critters. Listen: not long ago giving the arrival of trains at El Maton my copy read “Train 11 arrives at 11:33 A. M.” The types made it “1-33 P. M. Tough on the boy who wanted to use that train. I wrote about the “Angel Child of Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Waters. The type man made it an “Angle” Child and what that is I do not know. Writing about the celebration at Matagorda, I wrote “Reverend Paul Engle wants to know ‘effen youall goes or no.” When I wrote that I turned to the MW and said “I’ll bet it when set will appear with a “t” on the no.” She refused the bet and sure enough it appears “effen youall goes or not.” Such errors with copy often spoils the thought that the writer wished to convey. Wish the feller who purrs over those keys would just follow copy sometimes. If one places a slice of bread on the breast of a river, one need not expect it will return, but if the bread is cast on the bosom of a tidal sea where the tides ebb and flow, it is sure to return and so when I received the following I knew my bread had returned. This is the bread “I want to thank you for the nice gift. It is such remembrances as yours that makes graduation a happy time.—Abel King.” A postal signed “Your Vice informs me that she has escaped from the Huntsville Pen and is hiding some place in the Palo Duro State Park.” In the foto is a tall column of rock structure and on top of it I can see a speck which I assume is this criminal. I shall send it to the proper authorities so that they may catch this person and put her in shackles. Saturday morning came Frances Mayfield for a week end visit and so we once more enjoyed her presence in our home. Monday morning early she hit the road on her business of Supervisor of Local Health Nurses. This week will be short for the past week has been a week of difficult living for I have been in a health condition I may describe as about 49 ½ percent. This copy is written with difficulty. Next week may be better and for that I hope. Great thing this “Hope.” What would be world become without “Hope.” It is the Star in the East that guides our ship into heaven. The Woman’s Union met the past week with Mrs. Liggett. Mrs. Anna D. Crane, accompanied with her daughter Mrs. Richard Corporon and son, left Friday for a month’s visit with relatives in Wisconsin. The Girl Reserve delegates to the camp are off for a two week’s stay. Farmers are elated because the anti Montague movement has subsided and he is to be retained. Mrs. Thomas Fulcher has returned home and is making a fine recovery much to the delight of her many friends. Andy Jones caught a ten pound drum the other day after quite a tussle. Us Homecrofters care little for a drum. Jimmy has been chasing around with wild women and was away from home for twenty four hours. He is now on leash which he does not enjoy. Well the cat and the hen hatched out ten cute little bantam chicks and all doing well. The cat appears to be very proud of her part in the hatch and mothered the chicks until we took them into the house. Believe it or not, but the cat helped to make the hatch.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June
11, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] The school board made a very generous and gallant gesture when they elected Frances King to a place on the faculty. Frances has been studying to be a teacher and I congratulate her on her first success. Thursday the Woman’s Club met and appointed Mrs. Clapp delegate, and Mrs. Slone, alternate, to the meeting of the County Federation. Because of illness in her family, Mrs. Clapp was unable to go so the report was read by Mrs. Slone in such a splendid manner that she becomes good timber for the delegacy next meeting. A freak wind tore down on us the other night, out of a clear sky with stars shining brightly. At times the gale reached a velocity of fifty miles. Lasted about an hour and then went back from whence it came. Since then a dull north breeze has brought dust in so that the atmosphere is all a haze and the sky takes on a coppery appearance. Hope for Good Gulf Breeze. Saturday I was suddenly stricken with a severe illness from which I have not recovered and this copy is written under compulsion for it is hard to make the left brain operate, so take it or leave it for I am unable to make the physical effort required.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June
18, 1936 |
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When a man reaches and safely passes the seventy-fourth milestone, he may be forgiven if he stops a moment and gives thanks to God for all the mercies, pleasures, joys, muffled sorrow, luxury, food, clothes, shelter, friends, that He has given so generously. I have received much from life. In a financial way I have made much more than many other men and I have spent it, I have lost it in foolish investments, I have lost it by listening to the urging of friends in distress, but after all I am the gainer for I have had the privilege of taking from life many things that may not be reckoned in cash. Things that are lasting and so long as I live bring after day happy memories. Life has been good. I have lived in the finest hotels from New York to San Francisco. I have traveled on the finest trains. I have visited 42 of the 48 states and have crossed this nation from ocean to ocean and from the Canadian border to way south of the southern line many times. I have slept on hundreds of miles of trail in Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, Sonora and Sinaloa. I have been a welcomed guest in the native villages of Mexico and have made good friends among the Yaqui Indians and remember some with special regard, Eduaro and Sanatana and Ecinor. With these men, I have traveled the trails of Mexico sleeping at night by their side and always receiving loyal service. I have enjoyed contact with these people. It has added to the fullness and richness of life this contact with a simple, honest people. I have met scores of college men, engineers, men skilled in great works, men of wide world travel, men of highest education, scholars, the intelligence of the new world that came to me forty years ago. I have met sweet beautiful women old and young. Many of them fascinating and terrible when one tried to resist allurements of sex. I have met three presidents, Grant, McKinley and Roosevelt and have sat at meat and drink with a Comptroller of the Currency and also visited with a member of the Supreme Court. Yes I have met many great men and I have, in mining camps, met the scum of the earth, men who for ten cents would slit a throat. Among them I have found friends. I have met and found good things in dance hall girls. I have met and found friendship among the great and successful and in this state I have found some wonderful friends, sweet friends greatly prized because of their always giving me more than I gave them. Selfish? Not at all, for is it not true that he who gives receives ten fold? Well, let that pass. June 16th, was the anniversary of my birth and so on that day I journeyed to Matagorda where 1500 people came to meet me or maybe I was there to meet 1500 people. It was the Great Pilgrimage to Christ Church and glad I was that I was permitted to make the trip. There I met at least two score of friends, many of whom I had not seen for twenty years. My friend, Dick Zieske andwife, from the Bellville Times. They, being fine church folks, drove all that distance to be present at this Centennial program. Mrs. Doctor Sloan and Doctor Percy Sloan, Leone Yerxa and too many to name in this space. We were generously and sweetly entertained at the Morgan Smith home and the contact was most charming. Had a cold bottle of beer at the ice plant and on my refusing a second, Dick Zieske said “You can’t stand on one leg,” so I had to take on a second leg which was not at all difficult. The Hoods, Burks, Farwells, St. Aubins from Palacios, scores from Bay City and then my good friend, Ed Baker, brought us home. A very wonderful birthday and I thought of my sweet mother and how tenderly she loved me. Passed these forty-eight years and every day missed. That evening I sat in my easy chair and as the smoke from my old pipe floated in the air my gaze rested on a peaceful scene. The green grass stretch away to the horizon. The rabbits played in the yard. A mother quail with perhaps a dozen little chicks rambled across my vision. A mockingbird perched on the chimney top and sang his song. A dozen blackbirds fluttered in the willow tree and whistled their clear sparkling notes. Flowers nodded in the gentle breeze. Jimmy barked in joy. My little bantam rooster crowed a good night. A peaceful scene, the end of a very wonderful day. The end of seventy-four years. Who would fail to return thanks for all that God gave during that life time? I know that I did. While I was ill last week, my good and cherished Colored friend, Leanna, came to see me and she said “I’m havin’ Andy (her husband) go down to the slough and catch you some of them sweet little fishes you loves to well.” Who knows but that Jesus used the same kind of sweet little fishes when he fed the multitudes. If Andy makes a good catch, they will be sweet little fishes because Leanna thought of me. This from way up north just in time for my birthday “I do enjoy your Thoughts and I remember quite a number of the names and it keeps me in touch with you and the things you do.” Here is another received from East Texas on my birthday, “These birthdays remind us of milestones along the road and while you have had an imposing number they have also been ear-marked with records of your constructive deeds and be studded with the gems of thought from your brilliant mind and bedecked with the flowers of your gentle soul. I thank God for the inspiration they have been to me and may the line stretch on our’s into a future rich in joys for you and yours and inspiration to your friends.” Also came a letter from E. O. Taulbee, president of the Gulf Coast Development Association announcing that he had sent me one of the first copies of the press of the new booklet describing the beauties and advantages of the Gulf Coast. The book is printed on beautiful stock, is from the Tribune shop and is a fine specimen of the craftsman’s art. Well illustrated and written in a terse, concise statement of concrete facts it is certain to receive attention from those fortunate enough to receive a copy. No excess of optimism, not a line of pessimism, just plain easily understandable facts. It is a credit to the writer of the copy and I give my congratulations to the organization that sponsored this charming gesture of invitation to the world to visit the Gulf Coast. Forty thousand copies are ready for distribution at the Centennial Exposition. By same mail came a copy of the Tyler Journal from Henry Edwards its publisher and creator. I have enjoyed the privilege of knowing Henry Edwards well and have admiration for him. The Tyler Journal with its 73 pages, is filled with interesting matter about the Journal’s territory, Tyler, Smith County. Written in Henry’s inimitable style the reader is seduced from page to page as the story of the section involved is revealed. It is beautifully printed as is everything that comes from the Journal press for Henry is a stickler for perfection. I give him my hearty congratulations and wish him continued success in the wonderful work he is doing to elevate and promote the lives of those engaged in agriculture. Henry, I am glad that I have enjoyed the privilege of knowing you and trust that the coming years will allow me further joys in the contact. Well, after all the things that interest the folks of this community, is the marriage in Houston of Vernon King Hurd to Mrs. Valerie Blakeway of Matagorda. A surprise to many especially because of the suddenness with which all plans were carried out. They will be away about three weeks on a trip as far north as Chicago and on return will live in Palacios where the groom is interested in the building of a damn and causeway across the bay. Roberta Liggett and Irwon Blackwell have returned from the Girl Reserve camp and report something a bit more than glorious. Hope they learned and brought home something useful to those members who are obliged to remain at home. Dry weather continues and adds to the hazards of crop growing. A good rain would be welcome and mean the germination of much seed now resting in the ground. The library is closed for the summer, but those in charge will have plenty of work, repairing books, putting them in order and getting this splendid collection ready for the coming season. Frank Carr, a son of our old time friend, Bert, is a husky fellow of about six feet of good feeling youth, was here Friday inducing our folk to buy refrigerators. The way he put up his prospects the necessity of a purchase made it difficult to resist. The last time I remember seeing him he was just a kid running about Bay City and asking Bert for a nickel. Glance over him today. He says that the monthly payments are so small that one will not know one is paying them. Isn’t that nice? A letter from a business man in Palacios resents my comment on the failure to print congratulatory advertisements regarding the beautiful Arnold store. He says no grocery man has solicited and even had they been, none could have paid the bill and then it would have been of no value except to the Beacon. Guess he knows what he wrote about, but I still think the Arnold store, the sweetest thing in Matagorda County. Saturday night, in time for Dad’s Day, we went to El Maton where we met the ten P. M, bus and met our grand girl, Mary Louise, home for a two week’s vacation. Gosh, boys, but she sure looked swell to me. Head up, eyes bright, face aglow with happiness it once more seeing her parents. We have her safe in her own home for fourteen days we shall revel in family joys. One of the pleasures of Tuesday was again meeting Mr. and Mrs. F. Cornelius of the Juanita ranch and writing about them must with reluctance record that Mr. and Mrs. James Louis Duffy moved to Beeville where Louie has located on a ranch of 2700 acres and will breed high bred Herefords. We shall miss these fine young folks and their frequent visits to our home.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June
25, 1936 |
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“For over ten years we have needed a door to my clothes closet, and not until I became bedroom demonstrator did I get a new door for my closet,” said Emma Franzen, bedroom demonstrator for the Collegeport 4-H Club, and first place winner of the county bedroom contest, as she talked to the county judges. Mesdames Eugene Wilson, Norman Barclay and Walcott Rugeley. In addition Emma has had four new shelves and an iron pipe added to the closet. Other improvements made by the demonstrator was refinishing the woodwork and five pieces of furniture. The bed has a new tufted bedspread of gold and blue. She also has gold curtains. Willie Socha of Sargent, second place winner of the contest, is fortunate in having a new bedroom suit for her freshly painted room of buff and ivory, with curtains of cream, green and rust. Beatrice Holub scored third with her newly papered room in green and woodwork refinished in ivory. She also has a new desk made by her brother out of an old incubator. Beatrice plans later to add all new furniture to her room. Betty Mack, bedroom demonstrator for the Pledger 4-H Club, and Dorris Dodd, bedroom demonstrator for the Van Vleck 4-H Club, will soon have their room complete. Doris is getting a new closet and new bathroom all freshly papered. Betty is the proud possessor of a new closet, dressing table made by her father. All of her woodwork and walls are being painted and the furniture is being refinished.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, July
2, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] Accepting the hospitality of Mrs. Merle Groves, we, meaning I, the miserable wretch and the wonder child, drove to Palacios on Wednesday. The town looked dead. One customer in the bank, none in Duncan Ruthven’s, four in Herman Ledke’s and two of them from the east end of the causeway all drinking good, cool, beer. Two in the Peterson store, none in the Muriel’s Shoppe, two in Nestor’s, brothers Gillespie and Lipscomb. Bowden’s locked up. Did not go to Doc Wagner’s, for it always costs me one of them depressed dollars to call on that boy. No one in the P. O. buying stamps. The little peanut store below the bank thrown into spasms of delight as I bought two bits worth of those fine nuts. The bright handsome Arnold store was the scene of activity for several customers were buying from that attractive stock. They were so glad to see me that they made me a gift of a dozen donuts. Calling at the Harrison home found Mrs. Harrison busy canning peaches raised on her own tree. That Harrison family gallivanting around Democratic conventions would starve to death if Mrs. Lena did not stay at home and put up fruit and vegetables. Eleanor Harper busy tinting her finger [nails?] and combing her golden locks. Ever see a dead duck floating in a pool? That was Palacios on Wednesday. The burg wakes up for the BYPU, goes to sleep to wake up again for the army camp and then proceeds to another nap. Until and when that causeway is opened, Palacios will slumber. The old man who sells fish hooks near the Beacon told me that when George Harrison leaves town things slow up, but said he, “George will be back soon and will start something which, while it may not suit everyone will make the ball roll.” I criticized the Palacios C. of C. booklet because it did not locate Collegeport and College Station. The same criticism is now directed to the booklet issued by the Gulf Cost Development Association and in addition if one desires to locate Palacios must go fishin’ in Pass Caballo. Look! Look! Look at the man and see. Every word as written is true as may be. In these southern towns built around court house squares, merchants delight to huddle so it was a bold thing Carl Bachman did when he built his new store a full block outside the holy ground. This new store, a beauty, is going to change trade areas in Bay City. The stream will flow in another current. The store is two stories, the upper used for offices and the lower will be filled with the finest brands of superior eatables. Everyone knows that what one buys at Bachman’s is high grade and backed by a strict guarantee by a concern that has catered to the country trade for thirty years. Peaches are coming from Palacios. They are not as large as a football, neither are they as small as an ant’s eye, but fair size, exquisite flavor and priced so that all who have not had their liver ground into mush with excessive taxes, may enjoy the fruit. Our livers are still intact. A very delightful social event was the observance of the birth of Mrs. W. H. Boeker. I do not know how many years have passed for her, but on Wednesday a score or more of her friends gathered at the Boeker home in her honor and bringing with them the fruits of the garden and field they enjoyed a very generous luncheon service and testified to their respect for the honoree. I was too ill to attend much to my regret. I enjoy such affairs, this getting together of neighbors. Thursday we received a card from our Houston friends the Goodmans, informing us “if weather permits we will be down for week end.” Friday, came a moderate gulf storm with heavy rain, much needed, high gales and trembling people. I said to the MW, “weather will not permit.” Along about noon Saturday came a big black, long car and there we found our good friends. They left Houston under blue skies and not until they reached Bay City did they run into rain. This shows that our storm was of local character. Well we had a most delightful week end and they left Sunday P. M. for their home. Many of the older inhabitants will remember when the Goodmans lived here in the Smith bungalow in Central Street. Friday night Andy brought us some of “ten sweet little fishes” and so had a treat. Week’s end with me a feeling much improved for which I give thanks.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, July
2, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] All this week we listened to the falling rain and therefore our wanderings were limited until Saturday and then we went to the City by the Sea or I might better say the City of Flowers, for Palacios was all a bloom with fragrant flowers. It was a fine day and we had a grand week end at the hospitable Harrison home. Father, mother, children all home, except Billy and so it all added to the joy. That night Mary Louise and the Harrison daughters all had what they call “dates” for the big dance and I was interested in the coming of the young men for the girls. Price Barnett, dressed in snowy white, a fine upstanding young man. One fine boy from El Campo appeared with a mysterious package and as Miss Marion appeared, he rose and taking off the wrapper handed her a corsage and said he, “here is your corsage and I hope you like it” He appeared nervous as the young lady adjusted the beautiful flowers to her dress. It was a splendid old time gesture of the old day gallant. It was such a sweet attention that it brought joy to our hearts and we hope to see him again. I am told that more than 580 tickets were sold and that the crowd was simply an outpouring of folk looking for and finding pleasure. It was an all night affair and so the members of our group began to return to the home nest dribbling in from all hours. At the dinner hour sixteen sat at the board and happiness reined. Sitting on the gallery I could hear laughter and speaking over at the de St. Aubin home and was tempted to be a “BI” and go over for they seemed to be having a joyous party. Sorry now that I did not make the trip. Called at the Linder home to see Gilbert Illbury. This boy worked with his grandfather in building the Mopac House and was a strong husky youth, but has since suffered from paralysis of the limbs. He looks like an athlete, brown as toasted coffee and is taking baths each day in the healing waters of the bay. If Gilbert keeps his nerve and his faith in God, he is bound to have permanent relief from his present affliction. His family are giving him rare tenderness and Gilbert is enjoying life as he finds it. Mr. Huey Linder is building a boat for the State. It is a huge ship 48 feet six inches long, wide of beam, deep, roomy and will be a proud ship when she floats on the briny deep. Saw many friends and my part of the celebration was a very happy one. Home Sunday night about two bells and believe it or not we hit the hay before sundown and staid until sunup. Oscar and Ora Chapin, from San Antonio, here for the week end. Fine young people always coming back to the old home burg. Ruth Mowery, “Mrs. Watson Barker,” here for a visit with her parents and with her two sweet kiddies. Burton Hurd returned from his long trip North looking in fine health. Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Hurd at the Army Camp near San Antonio and will be back in two weeks. Sunday our daughter girl started back to Bryan and as we saw the bus leave, we felt that it was taking away the joy of our lives. We had a wonderful two weeks and now with anticipation we look forward to the return of our girl with her laugh and whistle. Jimmy was wild to see us and capered and jumped and talked and told us how lonesome he had been and it was a half hour before he settled down and realized that his folks were home again. Happy week’s end.
The Matagorda County Tribune,
Thursday, July , 1936 |
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The other day Andy Jones—you all know Andy Jones—he is the man I nominated for precinct commissioner and I still believe Andy would have made us a good commissioner. Well, Andy had poor luck fishin’ and he asked me to get him one of them new fangled fish hooks, when I saw the man who sells fish hooks at the corner on the west of that damn causeway—I mean causeway dam. Excuse the error. Well I met the fish hook man right on the corner and I bought one of them there double acting fish hooks, which gets ‘em both ways, one hook going into the lower jaw and the other into upper and pretty soon Mr. Cat finds himself on the banks of the slough. After the purchase, the fish hook man said, “What do you think of red likker?” “Now” said I, “if you confine your question to what is known as red likker, I can give you an immediate reply.” I don’t think anything of it and had I the power I would wipe its manufacture, sale and use from the face of the earth and from the memory of man. Its use has brought more misery, hunger, neglect, crime, mad sexual actions, wife and child beating, bare foot children, neglected education, political chicanery, business failures, loss of morals, slackening of Christian efforts than any influence I know of. For all this, I would had I the power, abolish it. Now do not think that I am a prohibitionist. I am not for in my opinion so long as we have this drink and have always had it and that all efforts to prohibit its use have failed and will always fail, the next best thing is strict control and the stricter the better. No law can be too drastic. I just do not like red likker. That is no credit to me. All my life I have been rather indulgent in the use of things I like and if I had liked to drink whiskey, no doubt I would have used it to excess, but I simply do not like its odor or taste, so I do not use it. Now wine is something else and I enjoy a glass of wine and would like to have one each day at dinner time. To me the juice of the grape is something worthwhile and as Omar writes:
“Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And David’s lips are lockt; but in divine And there is rum. According to my old friend, Judge Holman, I get my taste of rum from my piratical ancestors. According to the Judge, my ancestors after capturing a ship and causing the undesirable to walk the plank, broke out a cask of rum and the crew quaffed huge beakers but maybe it was schooners such as “Schmidt on the Banks of the Wabash” used to supply. Anyway, Judge Holman knows more about my pirate ancestors than I so the reader is referred to him. While his ancestors were quaffing moonshine, mine were drinking sweet rum. Gin as another thing and used in a temperate way makes a delicious and satisfying drink and I like a gin ricky or a cocktail and so when, as and if, I can obtain a snort of good gin, I enjoy it, whiskey may go its way so far as I am concerned. I am disgusted when I see folk unable to attend dances without a flask of whiskey handy. I am unable to understand why a person must become intoxicated in order to have pleasure. We as a nation are now undertaking another social experiment. I hope it succeeds and maybe it will, but when the state liquor commission issues a license for the sale of beer to one person and for whiskey to another, both dispensarys located within fifty feet there is something wrong. Might as well issue both to the same person. Well any way, old top you know what I think of red likker. “This was sometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof.”—Shakespeare. Some time ago the boys who occupy the Washington crucibles made an attempt to control potato production and failed. The growers would not stand hitcher. Now comes Maw Nature and growers I read are receiving as much as five cents per pound at the field and packing their pocketbooks with depressed dollars. I paid six cents the other day for three spuds. No dictator, not theorist, can possibly control nature or the law of supply and demand and yet they continue to attempt it. Maybe Mirth, when he reads this, will think I have become a preacher. My good friend Kisser Taulbee will be obliged to print another forty thousand the way the first issue has been received. A. D. Jackson writes me that the Writers Conference has been called off because the hospital is being remodeled and therefore no place to bed down to writers, “but” writes he, “come if you wish and you may sleep in the shavings on the hospital floor, but as there are no toilet facilities it will be just like camping.” I am glad that he provides plenty of shavings. From my front door I can see what I know to be trees, but to my dim sight I see a three mast ship with full sail. I can see the man at the wheel, the Master pacing his deck and the crew about their work. I can see the spray sparkle in the sun as she hits the billows. I never tire of watching my ship and maybe some day I’ll ship on her for the unknown seas. I know of no more thrilling or beautiful sight than a sailing vessel at sea. One time I was a passenger on the Pacific mail steamship Curacoa, on the Pacific and we caught up with and passed a sailing ship. She flew the Stars and Stripes and it was a majestic sight and caused my heart to skip a beat, which is nothing new these days for I have skips every day, but then it was different. I had an attack of nostalgia and had a quite sob or three. Those who have never seen a ship at sea have just missed a great thrill and I advise they go down to the sea. When the beautiful Arnold store in Palacios was opened only one first used space in the Beacon to offer congratulations. Friday the new, sweet, Bachman’s store opened in Bay City and the Tribune ran an eight sheeter to accommodate the desire for congratulation space. Every concern almost in Bay City joined and some had a full page, others half page, and quarters, but it must have run into about six rods of space. That’s one reason why Bay City is running away from it growing clothes. Fishing appears to be good in the canal for V. S. Merck caught a cat weighing thirty-two pounds. Several weighing from fifteen up. Mamma Barker dressed in red looks sweet and her two kiddies all also sweet babies. The O’Leary-Groves family have rented an apartment in Houston and will move there first of next month. Mrs. Joe O’Leary and her daughter, Mrs. Merle Groves, and grandson, Frank Groves, have been guests at the Hurd home for a short time. Wonder who the girl with green pajamas is. Some say its Ethel Nelson. The King’s Daughters met Monday, the 13th, with Mrs. Della Braden in Blessing. I was invited, but was unable to join the daughters. Mr. and Mrs. Vernon King Hurd will return in about ten days and will soon be established in their Palacios home so a bird tells me. Plenty bathing parties each evening. Soon as the dam is built, we will indulge in fresh water bathing on one side and salt water on the other. Come on dam and causeway.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, July
16. 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] Well, anyway, this had nothing to do with the birthday party honoring Colonel Tom Fulcher. Just the family, three fine girls and their sweet papas and the near neighbors. They thought of me and Mr. Hendricks brought a plate of barbecue chicken, sandwiches, cake and a cold bottle. Mighty fine and appreciated on a day when I was paddling along on a flat. I have no idea how many years the Colonel has passed, but I recall that when I was a boy of four he used to hold me in his lap and say “patty cake! patty cake! baker’s man.” Tom Fulcher must be around ninety-six according to his tale I have related. He is a tender hearted man. If his good wife takes an axe and starts for the woodpile, he hides behind the house for he cannot bear to see his wife chop wood. Different with me for I like to see the miserable wretch chop wood, pick chicken, cook and in fact do many useful things thus saving me labor. Mrs. Dean Merck, Ethel Nelson and Ella Guyer were the Collegeport delegates to the Farmers Short Course this year. It is expected that about six thousand will be present and I bet my money that 99 ½ per cent will know that Ethel is on the campus. The Penland family consists of father, mother and eight children and they now have as guests Mr. Penland’s brother with ten children, so the Penland farm is now being enjoyed by about twenty-one. That’s good so long as those delicious pickles hold out. Those who have not eaten Mrs. Penland’s pickles have a treat to think about. She gave me a bottle so I know. Emma Franzen won the bedroom contest and was awarded a trip to Dallas along with Maude Lashbrook, who the sponsors named by her interest in the work. We are proud of these girls because of their ambition to accomplish. Maude Lashbrook brought me a bouquet of beautiful flowers and she stated that she won second in garden culture. Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Waters (Louise Walter) are here with their little daughter for a week’s visit with parents.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, July
23, 1936 |
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A card received by the Tribune from Mrs. Clapp informs us that Mr. H. A. Clapp is improving slowly. This hopeful piece of news will be gladly received by the many Bay City friends of the family.
Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, October
15, 1936 |
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The Collegeport 4-H club met with their sponsor, Mrs. Dean Merck at the school house Monday morning, October 18. The following officers were elected: Nancy Sutton, president; Ella Guyer, vice-president; Ethel Nelson, secretary-treasurer and song leader; Maud Lashbrook, reporter; Marie Shows, program committee chairman. Mrs. Leola Cox Sides, our county demonstration agent, gave us an inspiring talk on “Charm.” Maud Lashbrook, Reporter.
Matagorda County Tribune, October 15, 1936 |
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The fall meeting of the Board of Directors of the Galveston-Houston District Y. W. C. A. will be held at the Collegeport Community House, Saturday, October, 31, with members of the Board, delegation from Y. M. C. A. Councils in the Galveston-Houston area, and representatives from Galveston Y. W. C. A. and Houston Y. W. C. A. attending. Mrs. J. S. Caldwell of Freeport, president of the District Association will preside at the business session. Worship service will be led by Mrs. J. Coleman of Bay City. Miss Grace Walker of Blessing will act as discussion leader of the Round Table, “Program Planning in Y. W. C. A. Councils” which has been planned as one of a series of leadership training courses in connection with the District Board meetings. One of the outstanding features of the day’s program will be the talk on the Consumers’ Cooperative Movement and as Chairman of the Education Department of the Houston Y. W. C. A. has recently acted as leader of a Consumers’ Cooperative Study Group in Houston. Miss Virginia Hightower of New Gulf, who spent the summer as a student at the University of Madrid and has recently returned from Spain will be the guest speaker at the Board luncheon and will talk on “Conditions in Spain.” Extensive preparations are being made by the Collegeport Y. W. C. A. Council for the entertainment of their guests. Acting as hostesses for the District meeting are the following: Mrs. Burton Hurd, Mrs. L. E. Liggett, Mrs. Carrie Nelson, Mrs. Vern Batchelder, Mrs. H. A. Clapp, Mrs. Frank King, Mrs. Rena Wright, Mrs. Helen Holsworth, Mrs. Anna Crane, Mrs. Luella Heisey, Mrs. Dean Merck, Mrs. Harold Lloyd, Mrs. Kundinger, Mrs. Henry Cueyrt [Guyer]. Arrangements for the Palacios delegation attending the meeting are being made.
Palacios Beacon, October 29, 1936 |
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Without any thought of egotism this copy is unavoidably filled with personalities. Those who are disgusted or distressed by the use of the personal pronoun or personalities are advised to read Bachman’s display or Piggly Wiggly or perhaps the classified column. There they will find restful interest. Reading the Bible I find this: “And he took him by the right hand and lifted him up; and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength. And he leaping up stood, and walked, and entered with them into the temple, walking, and leaping, and praising God.”—Acts III:7-8. And that is what God did to me. He took me by the right hand and lifted me up. Not content he sent to me an angel, she most of you know as the Miserable Wretch. And then he sent that gentle, capable, miracle worker Doctor J. R. Wagner. Came also that godly man, the Reverend Paul Engle of St. Mark’s and with him not only once but each week, the Holy Eucharist. This physician, with the angel and priest and God working over and through them brought me from death’s door so I walk and praise God. For many months I had been on the decline, but the progress was so slow that I was not conscious of it except the decrease in weight from 162 to 124 told the story. May 22nd for the first time I realized by condition. June 16th was my 74th birthday and although ill, I determined to celebrate by taking the Pilgrimage to Christ Church, Matagorda. I was too ill to go but was determined. I enjoyed the fine hospitality of the Morgan Smith home. Took communion with six or seven hundred others and did so remembering I stood on holy ground where for more than one hundred years others had partaken of the same service. I met the Bishops, Priests and Deacons and many old friends, many of whom I will never see again. I enjoyed the barbecue, thanks to the solicitous attention of Mrs. Dr. Hood who kept my plate filled. In the afternoon went with my friend Dick Zieske of the Bellville Times to the ice house and had a bottle of cold beer. On my refusal of a second, Dick said, “no man can stand on one leg.” So I took the second leg and it was also good. Here I met Morgan Smith who told me that his father was at the Battle of San Jacinto and was in the group when Sam Houston received the surrender of Santa Anna. I was thrilled. My good friend Ed Baker usually known as Mrs. Baker’s husband, brought us home. That night I milked my cow for the last time, for the next day I was in bed where I stayed for four months. About the last of August the crisis came and I was not conscious for eleven hours. When I came out I realized that several were about my bed, but recognized none of them. I wanted to die, prayed to be taken. The passing would have been easy, gentle, pleasant, but the door was closed in my face. God for some reason had something for me to do in the way of service. I know not what but there must be some good reason why I was brought back. I had no fear or terror. I wanted to call it the end of the road and pass away. I began to mend, slowly at first, but each day strength came back. At least one hundred and fifty people wrote me letters or sent cards and most of them added they prayed for my recovery. Several little children wrote they prayed each night. One prayer I shall always remember. It was by my colored friend Leeanna, and this is what she said: “I prayed my God to give you the strength so as you could walk past my door as I’ve seen you so many times.” What a prayer! God heard it and answered. The Rector of a church in Indiana instituted a series of prayers for my recovery. Yes it is true. God listens and answers prayer. There is no reason for my “Coming back.” Scores of folk came to see me. How kind and gentle they were. How anxious! How they prayed. They brought me fruits, steaks, chickens, vegetables, flowers, but having no appetite, eating no food I was slowly starving in the midst of plenty. I weighed about 115 pounds and was down to a bundle of bones. The angel took care of me, preparing tempting dishes which I spurned, bathing me, giving me the medicines ordered by Dr. Wagner, and slowly I started to normalcy. Few men have gone so near death and returned. I realized that now that I am on the way back. Convalescent, sitting in a big chair, bolstered with pillows, wrapped in blankets. I gaze out of the open door and see strange sights. Way off in the distance I see a three mast ship with set sails, the latter swinging idly in the breeze; the ship turning with the tide. I imagine the ship is waiting to take me over the sea of life. One day I look, and lo, the sails are furled. The ship still swings with the changing tide, but the Master is no where to be seen. The ship no longer waits for me so I know that I am on the way out. Just three trees with denuded foliage. On two occasions I saw a pillar of fire and the cloud of smoke. Both promise of a lead to recovery. The pillar of fire was to lead and guard me at night and the cloud of smoke by day. Both very real, but I know the pillars of fire was a large beautiful cloud with the setting sun showering it with tints of peal and gold. A beautiful vision and brought me rejoicing for it told me that I had returned from death’s door. One day while in bed, I heard many blackbirds on the roof. They scampered and played and then the sweet piercing whistle of that bird and from the willow tree came the answer from their fellows. A mockingbird on the fire place chimney turned in its melody in sweet song. I heard my little bantam rooster crow and how lustily was his crow. I saw beautiful daisies nodding their heads to me, the grasses waving in the breeze, pasture flowers in bloom. I heard the rippling of the tide along the sea wall. A dog barks! Children laugh as they passed for school. Life! God over all! My little dog Pard puts his paw on my arm and lays his head on my knees. He loves me and I love him. He never deserts me. Well, any way I am dressed, walk about the house, out in the yard and have taken three short rides. This is written because I want my readers to know about what I have suffered and the reaction so forgive the personal tone. Out of this long illness has come more tolerance, a kinder feeling for my fellows, have more charity, more faith. Without egotism I feel that I am a better man because I have been so close to God. Perhaps there is some service I may render. I trust this is the reason. Now I am looking forward to two events, Thanksgiving with the home coming of my wonderful daughter, Mary Louise, and then about December 2nd, I am invited to the birthday party honoring Mr. F. Cornelius, of the Juanita Ranch near Midfield. On that day will come the Cornelius klan from all over the State in honor of his 87th birthday. So here is my resolution: “Whatsoever He said unto you, do it!” Resolution “I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing, therefore, that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to a human being, or any word that I can speak for Jesus—let me do it now. Let me not neglect nor defer it; for I shall not pass this way again.”
The Matagorda County Tribune, November 5, 1936 |
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Collegeport Home Demonstration Club met at the home of Mrs. Dorothy Merck. Six members and one visitor were present. Officers were elected for the new year. After the business meeting Mrs. Merck served popcorn and enjoyed a pleasant social hour. Mr. Roy Nelson, Reporter
Daily Tribune, Thursday, November 5, 1936 |
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The passing of the lion? Aye, the passing of the lion. When Burton D. Hurd passed from the stage of his earthly works, into the great and wonderful over there, it was the passing of a man with the heart and courage of a lion. The works of this remarkable character, from the Sabine to the Rio Grande , will be visible and remembered by generations. Great monuments to his wonderful vision and his ability to execute. Burton D. Hurd needs no monument of stone. His monument will be in the works accomplished, standing so long as there is a Texas coast. Wherever one may wander along this vast coast there one will cross his trail. I write this copy with sorrow. I am unable to understand why this valuable man should be taken and I should be spared. Burton mixed his paint with sunshine and where he journeyed he traveled with a smile. Many men discussed and analyzed Burton 's plans, visions, ideas. Some were severe in criticism, but none questioned his morals. Burton was "clean as a hound's tooth." Years ago he acquired a conception of what Christianity meant to man's life and he practiced it. According to the light he received from his God he practiced charity, tenderness, good-will and benevolence in contact with his fellows. I never knew a man so eager and willing to overlook and forgive bitter words uttered by men, who no knowing him, did not feel friendly. Many times he told me, that life was entirely too short to spend any time worrying about what might be said of him. As a neighbor he was kind, generous, helpful, willing to aid in any and every way. No better neighbor lived elsewhere. As a citizen he was interested in all civic projects and some of the things we now enjoy results from his unknown and unheralded interest. I have been an intimate and personal friend of this man, for twenty-seven years and what I have written is the result of my own observations. His passing is a great loss to Collegeport, to Matagorda County and to the entire coast country. No man is left to take his place. His smile and his charming personality and his belief in the goodness of his fellow men will be with us so long as memory remains. If Burton had been conscious the last few hours, this is the prayer he might have uttered:
"I rest. My journey done, I pray my God to hold him in His comforting arms and give his soul peace, contentment and well-earned rest. I love this man and he loved me. I enjoyed his respect, confidence and friendship. Good bye Burton ! I'll be with you soon, so please linger along the shore. The personal history of this man is full of romance. A builder of railways, vast canal and irrigation systems, rice mills and warehouses, settlement of thousands of splendid farm folk on fertile lands, erecting school houses for the education of the children, organizing churches, all that people might have opportunity for finer lives. Burton had little respect for money, except what might be accomplished with it. Born on a farm in Hamilton County , Iowa , his entire life has been closely identified with some phase of agriculture. He seldom was interested in other developments. His last, and the culmination of years of dreaming, planning, studying was the project of building a dam across Matagorda Bay for the purpose of impounding water for the irrigation of many hundreds of acres and the development of an immense truck industry. Plans for this have all been approved and the burden which is not a light one, now rests on the shoulders of his son Vernon King Hurd. Burton David Hurd was born December 19, 1868 and died November 3rd, in his home in Collegeport. He was the third son of David Elisha and Anna Delight Faye Hurd. I knew his parents well, for they used to live here. They were rugged, splendid folk, the kind that has made America . They helped make Iowa and their progeny is now keeping Iowa . It was said that when Garibaldi, the great Italian liberator died, his heart was embalmed and placed in a casket on which was inscribed "Open this casket and there you will find graven on my heart ' Italy "." If one could see the heart of Burton , one would find graven there Collegeport, and so it is fitting that his resting place should be in local soil, on the west side of the cemetery in sight of the sparkling waters of the bay. The funeral services were held at the bayshore home, with Reverend George Gillespie reading the service. Evidence of the respect and regard the citizens had for this man, was shown by the fact that every home for miles around was represented in whole or in part, except those who were detained by illness, and the faculty attended in a body. Many who were unable to be present sent flowers. The floral offerings were gorgeous and seldom has such profusion of bloom been seen. Hundreds of roses, chrysanthemums, carnations, sprays, wreaths and set pieces, one spray being so large that it actually embraced and covered the casket. Relatives who were present, consisted of Fay Hurd youngest brother, his wife and son, Herbert Hurd, from Galveston, Mrs. Flora Morris and Mrs. Anett O'Leary, sisters of Mrs. Hurd, Mr. and Mrs. Howard Morris, Mrs. Austin Oberwetter, Mrs. John Logan, Mrs. Luke Hawks, Mrs. Merle Groves, Frank Groves and Mr. E. L. Morris, nieces and nephews, all of Houston; Mrs. Abel Pierce, Mrs. Webb, Mrs. Della Braden and W. P. Braden of Blessing; Mr. and Mrs. John Cherry, former superintendent of the local school, and Arthur Liggett, of Bay City; Mrs. and Mrs. B. W. Trull, and Mr. George Harrison, of Palacios; Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Smith, of Gulf; Mrs. Morgan Smith and Mrs. Velma S. Rogers, of Matagorda. Pallbearers were old friends, Messrs. Gustave Franzen, G. W. Corporon, L. E. Liggett, W. V. Batchelder, Eliot Curtis and M. S. Holsworth. Old time friends asked the privilege of preparing the last resting place. In the wet and bitter cold, Mr. and Mrs. Roy Nelson gathered a group who cleared away the wet grass and erected a shelter. All day they labored in the cold storm and when the time grew short more help was sought and more wiling hands asked a part in the arduous task then were needed to work in relays. This noble couple carried out to the workers hot coffee and sandwiches that nothing be left undone to make for their beloved friend a bower of beauty in which to rest. These friends assisted Mr. and Mrs. Roy Nelson, Stanley Wright, Dick and Gaines Corporon, Carl Ackerman, Henry Guyer, Tommy Oliver, Frank Mischa, Orley Brown, James Murry, Clifford Ash, Amos Johnson and Mr. Baggett. As many as thirty-five cars accompanied the remains to the cemetery where the commitment was given by Reverend Geo. Gillespie. Arrangement were in charge of the Brandon-Duffy Funeral Home of Palacios and Matagorda. Many of the facts given were supplied by Mrs. Dena Hurd and I have used them freely. As I have mentioned before, I write this with a heart bowed in sorrow. I feel that I have suffered a great personal loss. I shall miss the almost daily calls of Burton and his always words of good cheer. God rest his soul.
"That's good, read on, "Earth's light was growing
dim.
BURTON DAVID HURD In the death of Burton David Hurd, who departed this life at his home in Collegeport, Texas, a town of his own founding, last Tuesday, the state, the county and this section have been deprived of one of its most prominent citizens, real estate operator and pioneer of land and settlement promotions, and a man of keen judgment of values, a perception of development and a dreamer of agricultural enterprises, peopled with happy, prosperous and contented people. It has been said of this fine neighbor, friend and home builder that he never cared a cent for any dollar that could not be used for the betterment of the human family and, yet, in his various promotions throughout the country he spent thousands of them. His aim was always to the highest and his fertile mind constantly active in the behalf of the development of his country. Burton David Hurd, the third son of David E. and Anna Delight Faye Hurd, was born on the family homestead at William, Hamilton County , Iowa , December 18, 1868 and passed away November 3, 1936 at 1 p.m. after an illness of three months, battling the return of a trouble sustained in an automobile accident several years ago. At his home in Collegeport, and present at the final summons, were his bereaved wife and son, Vernon King Hurd, Mrs. Vernon King Hurd, Mrs. Annette O'Leary, of Houston, sister of Mr. Hurd. Surviving are, besides his widow, one son, Vernon King Hurd, one grandson, Vernon King Hurd, II, two brothers, Elgin H. Hurd, of Hurdsville, North Dakota, and Fay M. Hurd, of Galveston; two sisters, Mrs. George Boody, Sr., and Mrs. Norabel Culk, of St. Paul, Minnesota, besides several nieces and nephews. Mr. Hurd, on June 15, 1891, was wedded to Miss Dena D. Soekland, daughter of one of the old families of Stuttgart, Arkansas, to which union was born a daughter, Florence Vera, deceased, and Vernon K., the latter now residing in Collegeport. The funeral rites were conducted from the home by the Rev. Gillespie, of Palacios, assisted by a group of women with whom Mrs. Hurd had worked in the county for years. The Collegeport school and business houses were closed, while tributes of love and esteem were evidenced by the bestowal of many wreaths and set pieces of beautiful flowers. Many relatives and friends from Houston , Galveston , Blessing and Palacios attended. Mr. Hurd worked on his father's farm until he was 16 years of age at which time he gained his parents' consent reluctantly, to sacrifice his Father's gift to his boys of a farm equipped and stocked and go for himself. He worked nights and attended Spaulding Business College in Kansas City , Missouri , and completed the study of law after his marriage. He came to Bay City before the railroads--driving from Wharton or Eagle Lake . When the railroad entered Bay City he operated his own private car, increasing that to several cars and often a whole special train, bringing 100 people per month for several years; in al more than 25,000, eighty percent of whom purchased land or entered business in the Texas Gulf Coast country. A more intimate picture of the activities of the man may be gained in perusal of the following from one of Mr. Hurd's briefs of "Land and Agriculture Development," which follows: Commencing in 1893, drainage districts were organized and developed in some twenty central and northwestern counties of Iowa . Reclaiming an aggregate of 150,000 acres, sold to settlers, brought from older eastern states through an immigration organization built up for the purpose. This development and immigration attracted the attention of Arthur E. Stillwell and a deal was made with him and the Kansas City Southern Railroad in 1897 to develop and colonize a 42,000 acre tract of land between Beaumont and Port Arthur , Texas . Also to assist in the development of Port Arthur and the sale of town lots to finance the building of the ship channel from Sabine Pass. The first canal for growing rice in Texas , was built in connection with this project. Following the Port Arthur development, large tracts of land were purchased from ranchmen, developed by the construction of canals for growing rice and sold to settlers brought from the North, as follow: 8,000 acres at Iowa, La., 10,000 acres at Vinton, La., 8,000 acres at Cow Bayou, 7 miles west of Port Arthur, 5,000 acres of Hildebrands Bayou south west from Beaumont, both in Jefferson County, Texas, 16,000 acres 20 miles west of Houston between the Brazos River and Buffalo Bayou, 15,000 acres east of Eagle Lake, two canals developing 25,000 acres on the east side of the Colorado River in Matagorda County, Texas 56,000 acres on the west side of the Colorado River in the same county, covering the Collegeport district, 16,000 acres west of the Tres Palacios River south from the M.P.R.R. to the head of the bay in Matagorda County, 42,000 acres near Kingsville, Texas owned jointly by the King Estate and the railroad and 20,000 acres for the Texas Land and Cattle Company, north from Midfield in Matagorda and Wharton Counties, Texas. The development work for the sale of these lands included the construction and operation of ten canal systems for growing rice, road building, drainage, community development, railroad construction and the building of rice mills and warehouses.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
November 12, 1936 |
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After writing about such uninteresting and doleful subjects as taxes, red likker, etcetera, it seems time to write about the flowers that bloom on the branches of a forty-one year old tree… The first few lines down to the string of dots were written more than four months ago, but my illness prevented the finish. I planned a tribute to a woman. A woman who has stuck by her man for forty-one years. Any woman will stay with a mediocre man for that long a time is sure entitled to a crown of glory. And to this woman I hand the crown. For forty-one years July 24th, 1936, she has clung to me, giving a loyalty, a love, a tenderness that is only exceeded by that which we have from God. Always happy, joyous with little as well as with plenty. I never knew her to flinch. She always took the bitter with the sweet , with her face to the west. Whether she slept on the ground beside the trail and at her tortillas and beans, or being served with dainty viands in the best hotels of the five continents, she was the same woman, her soul overflowing with delight, rapture, ecstasy, just the gladsome, blissful joy of life with her chosen man. God sure was good to me when he arranged for my life lines to tangle with those of this wonderful woman. Wonderful? That has been proven by her devotion during my late serious illness. Such sacrifices in her strength and nerves. Today I am enjoying the fruits of the past forty-one years. At peace with the world. Living in my own home. A lovable and lovely wife. God has been good to us both. During my life four women have had a profound influence over men and I believe that if there is anything good and valuable I my life, the credit is due these four women. I have named one of them. Then comes my mother. Her name was Mary Austin and she was in the ninth generation of the first Austin to land in Boston along about 1635. She was a very sweet and pretty woman, so lovely and loving and she gave her family the superlative in devoted service. Whether I deserved it or not, she idolized me, for I was her man child. I wish I might tell her how I appreciate all her tender care, her loving solicitation, her guarding me from evil. Now after her passing, more than fifty years ago, serious thoughts flit through my mind and I visualize the mother who was the truest, dearest, friend ever in my life. I know that at times I neglected my mother, but she has never been forgotten. Tender sentiments that in younger years were mere buds of promise, now with later years are in full blossom and joy comes from a review of childhood and the privilege of feeling mother’s arms, sensing her beating heart and the night time when kneeling at her feet the “Now I lay me down to sleep,” was repeated, perhaps hesitatingly as mother gave the words. Wonderful sweet days were the days Iived with mother. Then there came into my life Phoebe Ann Warren Van Ness. She was born on the banks of Lake Champlain one hundred nine years ago. When I married her daughter, she became what is commonly known as my mother-in-law. Detesting that “in-law” ending, I discarded it soon as I found out that she was a wonderful woman and a real mother. That was what she was to me for the many years she lived with me. Left alone in the world with three children and little cash, she kept her family together, educated them, paid her way and developed the strong character which characterized her until death. She was a sweet, delicious, lovable bit of womanhood, with an abiding faith in God, the Bible and the Christians hope and belief in the promise of a finer life over there. The years she lived with me were rich in the daily devotion this mother gave to me. My own mother could not give greater loyalty nor more willing to make sacrifices for my security and happiness, than mother Van Ness. Old timers here remember her well and will bear out the statements I make. Mother was filled with rich humor. She enjoyed fine jokes and used them herself, but always with dignity. When she passed over, I lost a second fine mother and always since that day she has been missed. All men have one mother, but not every man has been fortunate enough to have enjoyed the devotion of two such wonderful women. All my life I have wanted a daughter. There is something about a daughter that is not supplied by a son. Just as a woman in a man’s life and home, brings something that no other can supply and then God in his own time gave me the wonderful baby girl who has developed into the substantial character that I proudly exclaim is my dream daughter. She is the fourth in this quad of women who have exercised an influence on my life. In her earliest babyhood, I promised God that never would I commit an act that would cause her to be ashamed of her father and if the question is asked her answer will be “never.” All her young growing and developing years were passed in this community and the people who have witnessed her growth will testify to the truth of this statement. Strong in her ideal of morals, determined to follow the admonitions and teachings of her parents, she has developed a conscience that always give a warning of the danger line. To us, she is so wonderful, so sweet, so lovable that she is enshrined in a special corner of our hearts, a daily delight. Never has she failed us. Never has she swerved from the ways she has been taught to “Keep The Faith.” As I review the lives of these four women, I must confess that of them all my daughter has been of greater influence in my life than the others. The other three gave me all they had, but his daughter of mine has kept for me the promise I made to the others. Yes, my friends, God has given me a wonderful daughter. And so these are the fruits of forty-one years. I adore my wife and daughter and I revere and hold sacred the memory of my two mothers. I have been a fortunate man and this day as I am “On my way back” from the Valley of the Shadow I walk and leap and praise my God with grateful heart. I read in the Tribune that on election day the banks and the liquor stores will be closed. It is easy to understand why banks should be closed on that day, for if they remained open, they would have all the people’s money. But the idea of closing liquor stores is repugnant to many of our folk. Stores selling such necessities as booze, white mule, moonshine, red likker, should be open every day. Banks, food stores and other purveyors of things we do not need may close but for goodness sake, allow us to purchase necessities. “Individual rights fall at the wayside when crusades toward Utopia get under way.” This from Illinois: “Am so sorry about Mr. Clapp’s illness and know you must have had your hands full. We sure miss his column in the Tribune and hope by this time he will be fully recovered and able to get the old Corona out. Mr. C. and I wish to be remembered to the General and hope he will be well soon.” Thanks for the promotion to a General. Never expected to reach such heights. If the following did not bring us happiness I shall guess again: “After reading ‘Thoughts On The Way Back,’ it was quite evident why you were not permitted to “Cross the Bar.” A more beautiful, ringing with sincerity testimony of a Loving Hand was never written to my knowledge. It is impossible to measure its reaching power. Your fine testimony was an inspiration to me to resolve to try harder to “Gather ye Rosebuds while we may,” and I add “Scatter them also.” Such letters are “Fruits of Forty-One Years.” They bring me much happiness and I thank the writer in this feeble manner. This from West Texas: “Tribune received yesterday and we surely did enjoy ‘Thoughts’ very much.” It was spiritual and inspiring and we were so happy to see the name Angel applied to one who so richly deserves it.” What’s in a name? A miserable wretch may be an angel and an angel may be a miserable wretch. Well, anyway, I still am crazy over that gal. Just to fill out the week came my good friend R. W. Persons, one time our County Agent, and now District Agent for the A. & M. Extension Service. He stayed with us until Sunday afternoon and then on his way. This good man receives from us much love and we were made happy for the few hours we enjoyed with him.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
November 19, 1936 |
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Collegeport 4-H Club girls are getting off on an early start in growing strawberries. Seven of the fourteen girls have already put out plants. Dora Mae Emmert has 57 plants growing. Other members who report strawberry plants out are Otha Lee Harvey, Mava Nee Harvey, Ethel Nelson, Ella Guyer, Dolores Guyer and Maud Lashbrook.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
November 26, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article about sheep.] This from Gulf—“The members of the District YMCA board wish to extend their heartfelt sympathy to you in this time of illness in your family. We trust that your husband may soon recover.”—Mrs. Allen Caldwell, District Secretary. From West Texas comes this message—“Dear Friend and all: I feel that I should write and tell you how truly grateful I was this morning when our home paper came and read “Thoughts.” We are rejoicing with you and yours for your healing. Our home paper is not complete without “Thoughts.” Just some more of the fruit of forty-one years. Such words sustain me, give me courage and determination to use what small strength God has left me, for rendering service to others. Just to prove the efficacy of prayer let me relate a true tale. Saturday night a truck drove into the yard about five p. m. and from it jumped two young men and when I asked what they desired, they replied, “We have a radio for you.” And sure enough they did have a beautiful Zenith and in twenty minutes it was installed and we were listening to a beautiful concert. Asking from whence it came, they replied, “A friend ordered us to bring it down and install it.” Because of my fading eyesight I looked forward to many dull evenings this winter, for reading was just not and so we prayed and asked God to send us a radio by the use of which we might have instruction and amusement. Don’t tell me that God does not listen and answer. I know he does. This has been proven by many experiences. God does listen and God does answer in His good time and in His good way. My friends use patience, trust in God’s judgment, keep on praying and remember that “Ask and ye shall receive it” is true this day. What a wonderful thing it is to have such fine friends. Their possession has been abundantly proved during my illness which has lasted five months. I am glad now that God in his mercy allowed me to come back. I have a new incentive in life, a courage of rarer quality and I look upon life with new eyes. This friend who sent the radio may not know what his action did for us, but as the days roll along he will know. It is 10 a. m. and we have just listened to a service from a Jewish synagogue in Dallas. A wonderful service, beautiful singing, far reaching prayers. I have always liked Jews and among them have had some fine friends. A wonderful people these Jews—fine citizens and good Americans. Don’t tell me that God does not watch over His children and hear their supplications. He does that I know for this gift is a direct reply to earnest prayer. The perfume from the soul of this friend drifts past our dream eyes and our thanks go up as sweet incense before the throne of God. I am making slow gains. I walk out a short distance each day and will gradually extend my wanderings. I am getting restless and have a desire to explore unknown regions. My legs do not operate very well and this makes walking rather uncertain. Heart appears to function in a fairly normal way. Other gadgets which have caused much trouble and annoyance are assuming normalcy, so it is possible to make a favorable report. Looks like a real coming back. Soon as my wooden leg is operating in good shape, I’ll go to Bay City and “Shop with Toots.”
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
November 26, 1936 |
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On this day I am thankful for the clouds that kiss the sky; for the flowers that nurse from the breasts of the rich soil; for the sparkling waters of the bay and the little wavelets that snuggle along the shore and nibble at the beach; for the birds that sing their morning song and evening lullabye; for the soft murmur of the waters of the slough, as the tide ebbs and flows; for the sky laced with wild life beating the air as they float southward; for the sun rising in the east bathing the earth in life-giving rays and bringing new hope to humanity and a promise; for the clear gold moon that fades to a white ghost as a benediction, as the rays of the sun’s new day rises above earth’s rim; for the unknown friend who left a grocery store on our back gallery Thanksgiving evening; for the miserable wretch who is my angel woman and with whom I am falling in love; for my beloved daughter Mary Louise, Toddie Boy, my daughter Ann, Granddaughter Nancy, Sister Lucy and my other kin folk; for the host of friends who loved me during my most serious illness when I was flirting with death and who brought me flowers, fruit and tempting delicacies; for the prayers asking God to spare my life and restore me to service; for the hand that reached down and lifted me up; for the good physician the priest, the devotion of that Angel; for the twelve pound Coon Cured cheese a Kraft product sent to me by my Chicago sweetheart Imogene; for the beautiful Zenith radio, a surprise package gift from that dear old friend of quarter of a century; for the lesson I learned during the last five months, that enabled me to give more thought to the aspirations, desires, ambitions of other for the many letters from readers of “Thoughts” many of whom I have never seen and never will, but each with their prayers and hopes for my recovery; for the mocking bird singing from the fireplace chimney top always with hilarity, high spirits, brilliance merriment. How in his joyous burst of song he springs in the air only to alight and give me again his sweet melody; for the crane which visits along the slough and stalks so majestically among the tall green rushes; for ships at sea and other ships flying through air and streamline trains and other agencies; for my food, clothes, shelter and for the pictures in the clouds.
“For the pictures in the clouds --Fragments From Hack. And then I turned to the angel and asked: “For what are you most thankful?” Holding me close to her faithful heart, she uttered only one word: “You.” “Your ‘Thoughts’ as always was a benediction to men, and I file it away with other prized things of the kind. My boys and grandchildren may find some pleasure in reading that after I have passed away. And that won’t be long. May God’s richest blessings rest on you three chosen people is my prayer.” What a beautiful sentiment to receive on the eve of Thanksgiving. Two times this month the grim reaper has taken toll from this community. First the passing of Burton D. Hurd and with him some of his many dreams for further progress. Wednesday morning at one o’clock another character, who in no less manner, filled his place in the community life, North Cable was called to his fathers. North came here from Springfield, Illinois, about twelve years ago, as an employee of the Collegeport Fig Orchard Company and how well he filled the position is well known. For several years he was janitor of the local school and to his credit I record that never was there such a janitor. North loved flowers, shrubs, trees, bird and animal life. He loved flowers and they love him. He had what every man does not possess. He had the ability to make flowers grow and bloom. He gave each plant individual attention and they sprang into his arms spreading their fragrance on the air. Had the school pupils appreciated his work the campus would this day be ablaze with the colors of the rainbow. Instead they trampled on the flower beds, tore up, broke up and threw away the young shrubs and trees which he planted with loving care and much labor. A bunch of lawless rubes with home training lacking. None of them cared for beauty and so North, being disgusted, ceased his efforts. The school pupils evidently prefer a jungle of weeds and tall grass. North was a man of strong, rugged character. He wanted to work at some project of value to himself and others. He wanted to be independent, make his own living and pay his way. Modest and diffident, he spoke little except to his intimates. He owned his own little home on the bayshore and there he lived in bachelor style. He was seventy years of age. North Cable well filled his place in this community and there is no person left who loves plant life and all nature evidences as did he. His life work was well done. Funeral was held in the church house with Reverend George Gillespie reading the service. Many old friends brought the bloom he loved. Taylor Brothers were in charge and interment in the local cemetery. May God receive and rest his pain racked soul. Thanksgiving day 1935, we most happily spent with the Harrison family in Palacios and when we returned home we found our kitchen table covered with groceries of many kinds. To this good day we have no clues to the friends who so generously and lovingly expressed their friendship for us. Not a trace, not one scent which we have been able to follow. Thursday last week I was on the back gallery about five p. m. and went into the house for not more than three minutes. On my return I found a large box filled with groceries of all sorts, flour, sugar, coffee, corn meal, canned goods without number. Someone slipped a runner on me and there is as before not one clue but to the unknown we give our heartfelt thanks. We do not even suspect. Thanksgiving eve came Reverend Paul Engle and read to us the Litany. This is the grandest prayer in the Prayer Book. It is of age many centuries. Kings have sought to destroy it. People have been forbidden to read it under pain or death but it lived, sometime tattered and torn. It still lives and brings to us the perfume of the life of Christ. Thursday Citrus Grove offered its twenty-fifth annual community dinner. Plenty of fine eatables, table loaded, good attendance and an enjoyable time and in the evening a party attended by about fifty. No dancing. Often have I listened to people tell about the beauty of the radio and I always thought there must be some raw dough in the cake and now I know it. The first night we had a radio the miserable wretch forgot to clear up the table and wash the dishes until ten p. m. The next morning she placed six perfectly good slices of bread in the oven for our breakfast and then calmly sat down to listen. Soon I saw heavy smoke coming from the oven. Investigation produced six slices of charcoal. Doggone there is always something taking out the joy. What will I do with that gal?
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
December 3, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article.] The annual bazaar of the Woman’s Union was held Thursday. Many beautiful and useful gifts were on display and brought ready sale, until the sales counters were cleaned. Miss Margaret Holsworth, Mrs. Merle Groves and Mrs. O’Leary sent handsome boxes of articles. That a good crowd was present, is attested by the fact that nine gallons of oysters were sold, in oyster soup, fried and raw. Coffee, cakes and pies made up the balanced menu. Oysters were supplied by Mr. Sutton, local fish and oyster purveyor. Our folk should give this man their business. The bazaar is an annual event in the community life and the ladies of the union have supported it for a quarter of a century. It is an operation for the Christmastide. Gifts are not all there is to Christmas. There is a way for all of us to make the most of this Christmastide. Broadly speaking each of us get out of life just what we put in and no more. This applies to the kind words and actions and the man who does the most along these lines profits most in life. He deserves to be ahead of those who envy him. For twenty-five years the ladies of this union have pointed the way to happier Christmas life. Let us give them a couple of hails. Came Mrs. James Louise Duffy with her mother, Mrs. Watkins, bringing a beautiful bouquet. The Louie Duffys now live on their ranch twelve miles west of Beeville. Also came Mrs. Leo Duffy (Fulcher) with another bouquet consisting of several cans of chili, hamburger, pears, etcetera, and so forth, and in the evening came Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Hurd for an hour’s conversation. Mrs. L. E. Liggett and the Shoemaker family successors to the celebrated Ramsey farm. I wonder why it has taken me a quarter of a century to make contact with one of our most wonderful characters. I refer to Mr. F. Cornelius, Sr., living on his Juanita Ranch near Midfield. This man came here from Germany at the age of 18. He spoke no word of English, had no money, did not know one soul in the new country, but he knew how to work and how to be thrifty and how to make and keep friends. Arriving in Galveston after a tempestuous sea voyage, he made his way out to DeWitt county where he obtained employment with Runge & Co. Here he was known as “Dutchy,” but he cared not for that, just went his way, putting in a full day of loyalty, saving his money, keeping good habits. He bought some land, a few cattle and was embarked on his life’s business. Married and raised eight children. After the loss of his wife, he married again and the union was blessed with nine children, and today thirteen of them are living. He is happily married to a most estimable woman, one of fine intelligence, a woman who is interesting, a woman who is lovingly called Josie by all the family, just as the first child, now Mrs. George Duffy, is called Mimi. For many years it has been the custom for the members of the family to assemble in honor of the birthday of the head of the klan. This year I was honored with an invitation to be present and for weeks I had anticipated the pleasures and joy of the event, but, alas, when the day arrived, my health would not permit the trip. I spent a day of sadness for the disappointment was great. I have been shut up for six months and this family gathering presented an opportunity to mingle with others. F. Cornelius, Sr., was 86 years of age December 2nd, but the celebration was held on the Sunday before, to accommodate many of the family living in Houston. About seventy members of the family were present, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. The menu as always with these gatherings, was such as to make a stronger man than I envy those present. Turkey, fried chicken, barbecued beef, goat and pig, salads, pies, cakes, coffee steaming hot from the big pot. Well, I ought to know about this, for did not that splendid girl Josie, put up and send me a generous helping of those goodies and with six kinds of cake. You bet I know about the eats, even if I was deprived of the social contact. I am in training now for the next birthday and it will be my business to be in a health condition that will insure my presence. Mr. Cornelius at 86 stands straight as an arrow, good color, fine speaking voice and appears to be sixty. He is a grand young man and I hope at same age I may have his youth. Well, this day I am looking forward to the coming of Mary Louise for the Christmas celebration. Two weeks from Wednesday I’ll be happy to see her face lighted with the glow of youth, hear her voice and in memory I go back to the days when she climbed the willow tree.
“It’s a long time since your voice I’ve heard, It is Sunday and we have been transported from Emmanual Jewish Temple in Dallas where we heard beautiful music by the choir, prayful prayers, splendid sermon to Carnegie Hall, New York to hear the New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra in four selections. The miserable wretch feeds her music loving soul on this wonderful music and her face is transformed. When I told a friend that we heard music from the radio before those in the studio heard it, he refused to believe it and was amazed when I explained the reason. Radio waves travel at the rate of 180,000 miles per second, while sound waves travel only 1,800 feet per second. Isn’t that easy? You may believe it or not.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
December 10, 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article about gambling.] “I am just thrilled to hear that you are getting well and strong. I won’t forget to thank God in my prayers tonight that you are on the road to recovery.” And here is another: “We are very happy and thankful that God answered our prayers and that you are getting well again.” These letters are from two little Texas girls. With two such sweethearts a man is obliged to start back. These little girls believe in prayer.
Dallas, Texas “Dear Mr. Clapp: I thank you for your letter of the 6th inst., and assure you that I am more than pleased to have you call me “friend.” It is very kind of you to compliment the Sunday morning radio services of Tempel Emanu-El in such warm terms and I do hope that you and Mrs. Clapp will continue to listen-in and participate in our services. I shall be glad to tell the Tempel Emanu-El choir of the fine things you say about singing. Be assured that I appreciate what you, an Episcopalian, have to say concerning the Jewish people. We do pride ourselves upon being fine Americans, though we are at the same time loyal to our religious convictions. My hope and prayer is that you will soon be well. Will you please, with Mrs. Clapp, continue to listen-in on Sunday mornings. Very sincerely and cordially yours,
David Lefrowitz, Just brought to us by our Zenith. Isn’t life wonderful? Two fat ducks from Gustave Franzen, the one some folks call “Goose.” I don’t like that word when applied to as fine a boy as Gustave. He is a duck of a boy but he is not by any means a “goose.” I have just received my 1937 Christmas cards. They are from the Tribune press and are not only beautifully executed but an admirable example of the craftsman’s art. Quality stock, clean cut impression and I am proud to send them out to my friends. Printing from the Tribune is always second to none and equaled by only a few. A pleasant and very welcome visit from Vern Batchelder. When a fellow is shut in as I am these visits make bright green spots in the daily life. It will not be long now before we shall have the Christmas greens, the tree sparkling in its brilliant trimming. This season presents a time for us to remember the other fellow.
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, Dec.
17. 1936 |
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[Local information taken from longer article about Christmas.] There is an ache in my heart this day, for one who stood by my side last Christmas and drank with me a toast for our happiness, has gone his way and left me to go my way. The sorrow stays and will not [go] down. His memory is like a thread of gold in a royal purple cloth. By this ache I experience the true thrill of the Christmas tide. This departed friend would want me to have in the fullest the Christmas spirit and the joys and happiness that is mine. That’s the sort of man he was. He wanted folk to be happy. We should remember that when we have done something to make life happier for the least of those about us, we have done a worthy thing for the Christ. Let this Christmas be filled with music—fine music the sort that stirs one’s soul and causes heart strings to vibrate. Let us sing the old carols and let us not forget to pray. Place in the window, a candle that the passerby may see and accept the invitation. This has been our custom for many years and one Christmas night as we were preparing for the Christmas feast, we heard a knock on the knocker and opening the door we met a man who had been finding himself on the wrong road. He entered and asked for instructions and was invited to sit at our old oaken board. He was an interesting man and we enjoyed his company. We found that he was a member of Christ Church, Houston, that his daughter was a worker in one of the guilds and that she had been at Camp Allen with Mary Louise. The candle has brought us other happy experiences. Place the candle and see what you may catch. When you look into the heavens this Christmas and watch the sparkling stars, just remember that you are looking at the same command prepared to sacrifice his stars that flecked the blue sky, when Abraham obeying God’s son; the same stars that glittered over the herdsman and his flock; that saw David and Soloman and that led the Wise Men to the cradle and witnessed the birth of Jesus. The very same stars. And now many the Star of Bethlehem shine in our faces this Christmas day. This from Kansas: “Looks to me as if Mr. Clapp made a trip into the astral and has brought back glimpses of the spiritual world. I am convinced that it is possible. Mr. Hurd’s passing is a great sorrow to the pioneers of Collegeport. Like Moses, he was allowed to see the promised land, but not permitted to dwell therein. It would help the son if he could feel that from the angel world his spirit will guide those who carry on the unfinished task. The Hurds have fought nobly for their ideals and won.” This astral business rather got me but I find it means a very beautiful thought; pertaining to coming from or resembling the stars. I most certainly reached the stars during my crisis. Dryden says: “some actual forms I must invoke by prayer. A welcome visit from that miracle man, Doctor Wagner, who gave me much advice and a car load of as the Mexicans say “remedias.” I took both. December 10th, the British empire lost a king and in forty eight hours a new king was hearing “God Save the King.” All in forty eight hours without fuss, undue excitement, great expense and the world’s greatest empire settles down. Take a look at America. When we choose a new president, what happens? Just four months of business uncertainty, the squandering of fifteen million dollars, trains rushing from ocean to ocean, hot stuff delivered from rear end platforms, many unkind and cruel words said and a general ripping up of social and political affairs. For four months we are like a vicious boil, tender and irritating. After all this turmoil, we settle down in our smugness. And we sing the song of Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. Ye Gods!
The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday,
December 24, 1936 |
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| Created October 9, 2009 |
Updated October 9, 2009 |