Joe Herring Jr.

Schreiner Institute was founded on December 31, 1917, 100 years ago today.
Construction began in 1922 of an "English Colonial" campus few could imagine for Kerrville.
Click on any image to enlarge

One hundred years ago, on December 31, 1917, our community received a remarkable gift.
In the early days of Kerr County, just before the Civil War, a young immigrant moved here. His life was not an easy one: he lost his parents when he was young, and was on his own at 16. There were many years of hardship and even poverty for the immigrant and his family and some traces of his homeland never went away. Even late in his life he spoke with a slight accent, a faint echo of his first language, French. Some of his manners were a bit foreign, too.

Charles A. Schreiner

Yet he loved Kerrville and Kerr County and his actions proved his feelings for our community.
The immigrant was a hard worker, and he was smart. His business acumen was phenomenal. He was not trained in business; his father had not been a businessperson; he was never an apprentice, learning from a mentor. He had little formal education. But he was a gifted businessman, with an eye for value, and he was an excellent merchant. He built a great fortune,
His customers liked him, and his community trusted him: they elected him to several public offices, including county treasurer.
Late in his life, after providing for his large family, he gave a lot of his wealth away, in gifts large and small, mostly benefiting the community of Kerrville and our neck of the Texas Hill Country.
The gift which has touched the most lives was his gift which started a school on the outskirts of Kerrville, a preparatory school for boys.

Drill at Schreiner Institute in Kerrville

The immigrant had the idea for the school before World War I. He announced his plan: on December 31, 1917, he would donate $250,000 to establish the school, along with 140.25 acres of land in Kerrville, with the provision work on it could not begin until the war was over and at least a year had passed from the signing of the peace treaties.

In those days $250,000 was an enormous amount of money, much greater than it is today. In the years after the announcement about the school, the immigrant added to his gift; the total he gave for the school eventually added up to a little over $550,000.

It wasn't until 1922 that construction on the school began. Three buildings were erected: a three-story main building, a dormitory, and a headmaster's house. The architectural style of the buildings was described in the Kerrville Mountain Sun as "English Colonial," a style "which is specially adapted to the rugged surroundings and has the further advantage of being very homelike."
When the cornerstone was dedicated, the immigrant was there.
In September, 1923, 94 years ago, the school opened its doors to students. Again, the immigrant was there for the festivities.
That immigrant, of course, was Charles Schreiner; the school he founded was Schreiner Institute, which is today known as Schreiner University.

* * *

There were several speakers at the opening of the school, and two in particular stand out: J. E. Grinstead, who was a newspaperman and writer, and Dr. J. J. Delaney, the first president of the school. Their remarks were reported in the September 20, 1923 edition of the Kerrville Mountain Sun.

Grinstead was a favorite local speaker at the time. He'd come to Kerrville at the turn of the century because his wife was ill with tuberculosis, and in a few short years he owned the newspaper, was elected mayor, then school board president, and later state representative. He published a magazine, and spent his later years writing pulp westerns. He authored much of the image and myth of the Texas hill country.

Schreiner Institute Cadets 1920s Kerrville

"A year ago," Grinstead said at the opening of the school, "this spot was an open field. A crop of grain had been harvested from it, and I used to take walks out this way and think it was a dreary place. And now, look at the beauty of it! Almost like the story of Aladdin and his wonderful lamp. When you think about how it came about, quite as wonderful. From the rough surface of a field, within a few months have sprung these magnificent buildings. True, there were many artists and artisans at labor, but in effect every brick, stone, tile and shingle was placed by a single man. A man who devoted his life to service. He was half a century accumulating the materials for this great institution, and it was he in effect who, having the materials at hand, raised on this eminence a wonderful monument to service. From this gift of Captain Schreiner, there is a wonderful lesson for you -- the lesson of service. Of service to God, to your country, and to your fellow man.

Main Building Schreiner Institute 1950s Kerrville

"The building of the real edifice, the most beautiful thing of all, is just begun. You men of the first year of the Schreiner Institute are the foundation and corner stone of that more beautiful building, that shall grow and grow throughout the generations to come. A building of men whom, wherever they may be found, shall look back with pride and pleasure to the days they spent in this institution. You have opened the book, in which is to be written the history of Schreiner Institute. The pages are blank and white. Write upon them with the pen of inspiration, drawn from earnestness of purpose. Emulate, throughout your labors here, that splendid example of the unselfish service shown by the founder of your school."

J. J. Delaney presented an oil portrait of Captain Schreiner to the school, and remarked "it is far more to us than a reminder of a man who gives generously of his wealth that the youth of Texas may have the opportunities of education. It should be a constant inspiration to high endeavor to every man who passes through these halls.
"It is easy to envy Captain Schreiner the 'opportunity' and 'luck' and complain of our disadvantages. Young men, the 'luck' of Captain Schreiner was to return after four years' hard service in the Civil War with nothing but what he had in his own spirit except a noble wife and two small children. His 'opportunity' was to wrest a living for them from an untamed wilderness with his bare hands or starve.

"The opportunities for you today are a hundredfold larger and the same qualities which have brought success to him will bring abundant fulfillment of any worthy ambition that burns in your hearts.
"I wish that we might inscribe under this portrait just these words, 'Integrity, Industry, Economy,' for it is to these and not to easy fortune his success is due."
At the end of the dedication program one member of the school's faculty called the students together and led fifteen cheers for Captain Schreiner and for Schreiner Institute.
In the last century, since Charles Schreiner placed a quarter million dollars and 140.25 acres in trust, the school he started has touched the lives of thousands.
Until next year, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is especially proud of one Schreiner College graduate: his lovely wife, Ms. Carolyn, who graduated from Schreiner with a teaching degree, which she's used to make the world a much better place. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times December 30, 2017.

There are still a few copies of Joe's second book available. Click HERE for more information.

Freight Wagons traveling from Kerrville to Junction, around 1900.
Photo courtesy of the Blakely Collection.
Click on any image to enlarge.

Now that most of your holiday guests have headed back home (or you’ve returned from your holiday travels) it might be nice to consider what travel was like in this region at the turn of the last century.
Years ago Herbert E. Oehler wrote a book about growing up in the Mountain Home area called “Hill Country Boy,” which my father printed in the early 1980s. I recently found a copy at Wolfmueller's Books which I quickly purchased.

Leland Richeson C C Butt Grocery Kerrville

Leland Richeson in the
C C Butt Grocery wagon

Travel was different at the turn of the last century, according to Oehler.
“Travelers who skim over the smooth pavement of IH10 from Kerrville to Junction can easily make it in an hour now,” writes Mr. Oehler. “But there was a time early in [the last] century when the same trip consumed most of a day, sometimes even longer when rain made the road a series of water filled ruts except in those places where uneven rocks cropped to the surface.

A Surrey Wagon, around 1910,
near Kerrville

“…During the time I was growing up…Roy Kemp was the operator [of the stage line connecting Kerrville and Junction]. The vehicle Kemp used was nothing like the stage coach depicted in current Western movies. It was a hack with three seats, an oilcloth-covered top, and oilcloth curtains with isinglass windows. In rainy or cold weather these curtains were rolled down and fastened tightly to make the hack more comfortable.”
'Isenglass,' Gentle Reader, is a substance made from the dried swim bladders of fish.
Oehler’s family’s place was one of the stops on the line. “It was not a passenger station in the usual sense but simply a stop where the horses which had brought the hack from Kerrville were unharnessed and a new team hitched up. The stage line hired a man to do this. He had a tent to live in, pitched under a big walnut tree near the creek. Besides hitching and unhitching the teams, it was his duty to see that the horses were fed, watered, shod and given such other care as required.”

Tom Tarver getting the mail
at the Kerrville Depot, 1933

Oehler remembered the names of three of those hired to do this job: a Mr. McMickle, a Mr. Rainey, and his aunt, Emma Heimann. “Of course,” he writes, “Aunt Emma lived with us instead of in the tent while she held the job.”
Four horses were used to pull the hack from Kerrville to the Oehler’s place, unless it was rainy; then six were required, just to get the hack through the ruts. “This was particularly true of the Mountain Home to Junction stretch which had not been graveled except in a few places where the mud was especially deep.”
“The fact that this road was also used by freighters who hauled wool and mohair from Junction to Kerrville, and merchandise in the opposite direction, certainly didn’t tend to improve the road since the heavily loaded wagons cut deep ruts into the soft ground.

Wool Wagons on Water Street,
Blakely Collection

“The stage stop at our house supplied no special facilities for the passengers. On cold days they were welcome to come into the house to warm themselves in front of the open fireplace. Some who tried to make the trip more comfortable by warming their feet with a heated brick wrapped in a tow sack or in a strip of blanket, might bring the brick in to reheat it while they were soaking up the warmth.
“They were welcome, too, to seek out the little outhouse back near the barn. This was a two-holer, completely equipped with a bucket of corn cobs and a Sears Roebuck catalog. It is doubtful if every outhouse on the stage line gave the passengers such a choice,” Oehler writes proudly.

Freight Wagons, Earl Garrett
at Water Street in Kerrville

The road, Oehler speculates, “no doubt followed quite closely the military route surveyed by Col. Albert Sidney Johnston in the 1850s to provide access to the forts established along the western frontier.”
This route crossed Johnson Creek 12 times between Mountain Home and Kerrville (13 crossings if you count the Smith Branch crossing).
Consider that, Gentle Reader. We take for granted the terrain here as we travel in comfort, sealed in our air-conditioned cars, listening to music, and talking on the telephone.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who can remember traveling to Junction before IH10 was built, along a route which must have been close to that described by Oehler. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times January 6, 2018.

There are still a few copies of Joe's second book available. Click HERE for more information.

Kerrville Texas, around 1920, with Union Church

Kerrville, around 1920, taken from the roof of the St Charles Hotel,
looking roughly north
Click on either image to enlarge

When I learn to time travel, I am going to ask several local photographers to frame their shots in a different way.
"Nudge over a little to the left, please. I don't have a photograph of that building," I'll ask in my kindest voice. "You know, while we're here, why not take photos of every building on this block for me?"
I'm sure they'll do this for me, a stranger from the 'future.'
This week I studied two photographs in my collection for clues, trying to figure out what the photographer was hoping to capture.
Both are labeled "Kerrville, 1921," though those dates were added much later.
First question: from where were the pair of photographs taken?
I'm pretty sure I know the answer to this one -- they were both taken from the roof of the St. Charles Hotel, which stood for decades at the corner of Water and Sidney Baker streets, with about the same footprint as the old Sid Peterson Memorial Hospital.
That old hotel was three stories tall -- so the roof was about four stories from the ground. There are several other photos in my collection taken from up there.
Then, as now, folks like to take photographs from a height, from a vantage point. At the time these photographs were taken, the St. Charles was one of the tallest buildings in town.
Both photographs show the hills in the distance. Since those have not changed, I could figure out which direction the photographer was facing. In one, the photographer is facing roughly south; in the other, roughly north.
It's what's in the middle distance in each photograph that I find interesting.

Its sister photograph, taken from the same spot, facing roughly south.

In the photograph facing south, across the river, I notice the top of two buildings, the Favorite Saloon, and the old Schreiner Wool Warehouse. The wool house is gone, but the Favorite Saloon building still stands in the middle of the 700 block of Water Street. It's owned these days by the Rector family. It was built in 1874 and is the oldest building still standing in the downtown area.
In that same photograph, looking across the river, in the 'middle distance,' between the river and the hills, there is nothing but plowed fields. Louis Schreiner has yet to build his mansion 'Tulahteka" on one of the hills, which is a problem for the date handwritten on the photograph. That building, which was most recently the headquarters for the LDB Corporation, was actually built in 1920. Since it's not there, the date for the pair of photographs has to be before 1920.
The other view, toward the north, is interesting, too for what you can see in the middle distance.
In the center of the photograph is the Union Church, which moved several times, finally finding a nesting site on the far western edge of the campus of Schreiner University. What's unique about this image of the old church is this: a clear view of its steeple. Another church is visible in the photo, too: the old Calvary Baptist Church, with its distinctive striped steeple.
Of course, as with any nearly 100 year old photograph of Kerrville, the photograph holds at least one mystery: a bell tower I've never seen before, but which appears to be near the old train depot.
Neither photograph is particularly well-framed, unless the photographer was attempting to photograph something flying in the sky. Both images do have interesting marks in the sky, but both marks are most likely dust or lint on the camera or film. Or a cigar-shaped UFO.
There is a simpler solution than traveling through time and bugging earlier photographers to take different photographs, of course. When I time travel, I'll just take along my own camera.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who collects old photographs of Kerrville and Kerr County. If you have one you'd like to share with him, please bring it by. He can scan it and give you back the original, if you'd like. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times January 13, 2017.

Kerrville after a snowfall February 5, 1923.
The building in the middle left is the Kerr County Courthouse.
Click on any image to enlarge.

This week's icy roads and brief snow flurries reminded me of some photographs in my collection of Kerr County and Kerrville photographs.
It hasn't been that long ago when taking a photograph meant exposing a piece of film to focused light, and then waiting weeks or months to see how the photograph came out.

Schreiner Mansion

Youngsters might not believe this, but it was possible for months to pass before you saw a photograph you'd taken. Film came on a roll, and you didn't send the film to be processed until all of the frames on that roll had been exposed. Then you took that roll of film to a store where it would be processed. In Kerrville, when I was a boy in the 1960s, that meant your roll of film was shipped off to a processor in another city, and processing the film could take a week, or even longer.

Snowballs in the courtyard of the St Charles Hotel Kerrville

St Charles Courtyard

Decades later a crop of one-hour-photo shops opened up, often little huts in the middle of a shopping mall parking lot. I remember our local H-E-B had a photo processing department in the store. (It was across the aisle from the VHS movie rental department, but that's a different story.)
Local drugstores and even Wal-Mart now operate film processing departments.
Rumor has it an early H-E-B store in Kerrville offered film processing, back when Florence Butt was still active in the management of the company. According to the story, the processing was either done by Eugene Butt, her son, or local pioneer photographer Starr Bryden.
Whether or not that story is true does not change this fact: taking photographs was not easy, took time, and was expensive at the turn of the last century. That meant people didn't take as many photographs as they do now.

Kerrville Hospital
(Kellogg Building)

All that's required now is to point your phone at a subject and push a button, instantly seeing the result. I took a photo this week, posted it to Facebook seconds after it was taken, and hundreds of people all over our community saw it in a just few minutes, some even before I got back inside the warm print shop building.
Photography is easy now, but back then one had to have a reason to take photographs.
There were the usual family reasons to take a photograph: a new baby, a new car, and birthday celebrations.

Wagon Yard, 700 block of Water

There were community reasons to take a photograph, too: parades, mainly, but also trains or new buildings.
And then there were meteorological reasons to take a photograph. Floods usually accounted for a few frames being exposed to light. Snow, which is rare here, was another reason to take a photograph.
I had hoped to take some snow photographs last Tuesday. Most of the images I took were not that good, and didn't show a lot of snow. I tried to take images of the snow blowing down Water Street, but they were not very impressive.

Florence Butt family snowball fight in front of first HEB store

Leland Richeson and members
of the Butt family in front of
first H-E-B

Photographs from our community's past show some really nice snowfalls. There are the usual shots of snowball fights, and of children posing beside their snowmen.
There are a few nice shots of local buildings, too, sporting a dusting of snow.
We may not have had sufficient snowfall this week to add to this historic gallery, but at least we can look back at the efforts of our forebears.

Tivy School at Kerrville after a snowfall

Tivy School in the snow

Imagine them, crunching through the snow, closing one eye, and peering through a foggy viewfinder with the other, and releasing a mechanical shutter. That cold photographer, at that very moment, had no idea how the resulting photograph would look. They had no idea whether the image was overexposed, out of focus, or if their finger was over the lens.

Kerrville snowfall 1897

They also had no idea folks like you and I would be looking at the photographs they took that cold day in Kerrville, hundreds of us all looking at the photograph at the same time.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who collects historic photographs of Kerrville and Kerr County. If you have old photos of our community, please let him scan them for the collection. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times January 20, 2018.

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There are still a few copies of Joe's second book available. Click HERE for more information.

Camp Verde, by Mrs. O'Neal, around 1905
Click on any image to enlarge

It’s surprising what you find when you’re looking for something else.
As you know, I collect old photographs of Kerrville and Kerr County. While searching for a photo of Water Street, I ran across a small image I don’t remember seeing before. If its subject is what it purports to be, it’s the oldest known photograph of Camp Verde.
The photograph is small, around 3.5x5.5 inches, and is printed as a real photo postcard. Its sepia tones are sharp, and reveal a lot of detail. It’s signed and titled, a practice that was common around the turn of the last century.

Camp Verde, around 1940

The photographer’s name was O’Neal. I have another image signed by O’Neal, of the Schreiner Mansion with a ox-drawn series of wagons parked in front of it. In those days a photographer might scratch their name (in reverse) on their negatives, so when they made a print it would be readable. Or they might write their name in an opaque ink on the surface of the film to make their name appear white when printed.
In both of the O’Neal photographs I have, the name is written at an angle, almost sloppily. The photos themselves are good, and reflect some skill. Adding the name appears to be an afterthought.

Camp Verde, around 1941

I researched the photographer, and find that a Mrs. E. O’Neal was active in Kerrville in 1905, running ads in the Kerrville Mountain Sun, offering to take photos of houses or to take portraits of families and children. Her office was ‘opposite’ the St. Charles Hotel; I think her office was on the corner of Water and Sidney Baker streets, on the corner now occupied by the city’s parking building.
The photo I found among my collection is labeled “Camp Verde.”

Camp Verde plaque

That could mean several things. It could be a photograph of a family in front of their house in the community of Camp Verde. Or it could be a photograph of a family living at the old fort, Camp Verde, after it was abandoned as a fort in 1869, well after the civil war.
A careful examination of the ‘Camp Verde’ photograph by O’Neal shows a building similar to buildings shown in photographs taken later, mostly in the 1930s. But there are differences between the buildings in those photographs and the building shown in the O’Neal photograph.

Camp Verde Texas around 1936 by Starr Bryden

Camp Verde by Starr Bryden

For one, the posts supporting the porch are different; in the O’Neal image, the posts are made of wood. In the others, the posts are thicker, and look like they’re made of masonry.
And the roofline looks different in the O’Neal photograph, too. The O’Neal photo is also missing the chimneys shown in almost all of the other images.
But there are similarities between the various photographs of Camp Verde, too. The long porch with many openings and doors is similar in all of the photographs. The fencing is similar in at least two of the images.

Camp Verde historical marker

It’s true many of the buildings which once comprised Camp Verde are no longer there. It’s possible the O’Neal photo was of a building which existed around 1905, but no longer stands.
Here’s what I’m hoping: someone more familiar than I with Camp Verde and the old homes in that neighborhood will recognize the structure in the O’Neal photograph. It would be a bonus if anyone could identify the folks in the photograph, too.
Meanwhile, I’ll keep looking for that missing photograph of Water Street for which I was looking when I stumbled upon Mrs. O’Neal’s photograph of ‘Camp Verde.’
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who becomes obsessed with old Kerr County photographs. If you have one you’d care to share with him, he’ll scan the original and give it back to you, unless you’re super cool and give him the original. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times January 27, 2018.

There are still a few copies of Joe's second book available. Click HERE for more information.

Wait. That building is in the middle of what is now called Sidney Baker Street.
Click on any image to enlarge

Last week I was going through a box of old Kerrville photographs and by chance noticed a building which was in a place it shouldn't be, and then, in the very next photograph, it was gone.
In the first photo, the building was there. In the second, it had disappeared.

Now you see it.

Now you don't.

Even stranger, the building appeared to stand in the middle of Sidney Baker Street, next door to Pampell's. If the Sidney Baker Street bridge had existed when the photo was taken, the mystery building would have blocked access to the northeastern entrance to the bridge.
I noticed the building a few years ago in a different photograph, but these newly discovered photographs offered a better angle to view not only the mystery building, but also the building which was behind the mystery building.
That first photograph showed three youngsters posing in the bright morning sunlight on a bench in the front yard of the St Charles Hotel. That hotel stood on the corner of Water and Sidney Baker streets, where, until recently, the Sid Peterson Memorial Hospital stood. Behind them are two frame buildings: on the left was Pampells, on the corner of Water and Sidney Baker streets; on the right, the mystery building, sitting in the middle of Sidney Baker Street; a little farther to the right, a one-story building, which might be a fore-runner of the building that stands today across Sidney Baker Street from Pampell's.

Kerrville Texas children at St Charles Hotel 1908

Three children pose in the bright morning sun, on the lawn
of the St. Charles Hotel, around 1908
The mystery building is behind the boy on the right.
Pampell's is behind the boy on the left.

One of the newly-discovered photographs show both Pampell's and the mystery building; in this photo a skinny man wearing a straw boater is posing with his dog in the yard of the St. Charles Hotel. Behind the man is Pampell's; behind the dog, the mystery building.
But this photo offers a view of the mystery the first photo did not: a clear view of the upper story of the building, and with that view, a clue.

It was my eagle-eyed sister who noticed something about that second story: it is missing its balcony. That first step out of the upper story door would have been dangerous. Further, she noticed that the balcony itself seemed to have been sawn away, because the ends of the joists can be clearly seen.

That part of the roof of the building over the missing balcony was not supported by posts or columns. It was just hanging there.
The third photograph shows a man, woman, and a child; the child is posing from the back of a donkey, and neither the child nor the donkey seem particularly thrilled about the situation. However, between the shoulder of the man and the shoulder of the woman we should see our mystery building. It has vanished.
I have a theory: I think the mystery building shown in the two photographs was being moved, and I think I know from where it was being moved. I have no idea, yet, as to where it was being moved.
In one of Lanza Teague's photographs of the Gregory House, a building use which preceded Pampell's on the corner of Water and Sidney Baker streets, I can see a two-story building which looks a lot like the mystery building. That building stands between Pampell's and the old Favorite Saloon building, about where Cricket's stands today. I also noticed on the 1904 Sanborn map of Kerrville a two-story frame building in the spot, but on the 1910 map, the frame structure had been replaced by a concrete and masonry building, which was occupied by a drug store (Rawson's) and a tailor (Model Tailoring).

Looking from Peterson Plaza
toward what will become Pampell's, 1897
St.Charles on right; Gregory Hotel on left.
No mystery building in the middle.

That masonry building is known today as the Davis Building, and is owned by the Rector family. However, when it was built, it was known as the Rawson Building.
W. H. Rawson arrived in Kerrville around 1890; he was a pharmacist, and he purchased the Peavy Drug Store which was housed in a two-story frame building where the Davis Building stands today. According to research done by Deborah Gaudier, "he operated his business in that building until 1908, when it was torn down and this new...building was erected. Rawson's Drug moved in to the new building in August, 1909."
An ad in the September 4, 1909 edition of the Kerrville Mountain Sun says "we are now in our new concrete store building and are at home to the trade. For twenty years we conducted a drug business in the old wooden building. We now have a modern building, equipped for a modern drug business."
I wonder, if, during construction of the new store, business was conducted from the old building, temporarily located a few doors down... in the middle of the street?
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who collects old photographs of Kerrville and Kerr County. Please share your treasures with him -- he can scan your original and give it back to you. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times February 3, 2018.

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There are still a few copies of Joe's second book available. Click HERE for more information. His first book has sold out.

Kerrville's Rialto Theater, in the 600 block of Water Street.
The photo above is from around March, 1940; note guy in top window.
Click on any image to enlarge.

Eighty years ago today, Kerrville got a new movie theater.
The Rialto Theater, which stood in the 600 block of Water Street, was opened with much fanfare on February 10, 1938. The site today is a parking lot, the parking lot between our print shop and Grape Juice.
The first movie shown in the new theater was "Hollywood Hotel," starring Dick Powell and Frances Langford. Admission was 10 cents, 20 cents, or 25 cents.

The Rialto Theater, October 1946

A front-page story in the February 10, 1938 Kerrville Mountain Sun offered this schedule for the theater: "One-day runs will be shown on Saturdays, and the theatre will offer four bills each week, three of them on two-day schedules. The first of a regular series of Saturday night matinees is set for 11:30 pm Saturday."
I checked up on that late time -- 11:30 pm -- and it appears to be accurate. I thought Kerrville, in the late 1930s, would be all buttoned up and asleep at that time, but I was wrong.
The Rialto Theater was built by B . C. Parsons, at a cost of $40,000, and was leased to Hall Industries, headed up by Henry W. Hall of Beeville. Hall Industries also owned the Arcadia Theater a block away on Water Street, and the Rio Theater, one block farther. I believe Henry W. Hall is from the same family of Halls which own the Rio 10 Theater in Kerrville today.

600 block of Water Street, around 1945

The new Rialto Theater featured many innovations: "hearing aids" for the hearing impaired, including a device using the "bone conductor principle" for the totally deaf. A "spacious lounge" above the lobby was available, "where patrons may rest or smoke."
There were a lot of movie theaters here in the late 1930s!
In fact, the businesses in the 600 block of Water Street took out an ad to celebrate the new Rialto Theater. "The Theatre District is Extended into the 600 Block on Water Street. The following firms Welcome the Modern, New Rialto Theater: F. F. Nyc (public accountant), Miesch Optical Co., Norge Appliance Co., Roland Insurance, Campbell's Lunch Room, the Modern Beauty Salon, Kerr County Motor Co., the Cone Car Co. (and service station), the Sunshine Laundry, and Peterson's Garage (and service station)."
I mention this because the 600 block was once filled with businesses. Now it's just us two, really: Grape Juice and Herring Printing.

Rialto Theater, 1946

Some remnants of the Rialto Theater still exist. Grape Juice's northwest wall (the wall closest to the print shop) is actually a wall of the theater. If you stand in the parking lot and look at the Grape Juice wall, you'll see several smooth places in the plaster: these are hints of the stairway to the movie theater balcony, and the risers of the theater's balcony.
Likewise, some remnants of the other businesses in our block also remain: our print shop offices are in the building that once housed the "Modern Beauty Salon," and a sign for "Campbell's Lunch Room," which was originally painted on an exterior wall, is now an interior wall in our building.
The Rialto was empty for many years, though for a brief time in the late 1960s it was a sort of dance/ music venue called the Casket. My memories of the building are from this period, when it was empty. We neighborhood children found a way to get inside the place and explore; it was dark and spooky in there.
The Rialto Theater was eventually torn down in 1974 by the Charles Schreiner Bank, and the land was used to construct a parking lot. In 1990, my family purchased the parking lot from what was left of the Charles Schreiner Bank after it failed.
My thanks to Michael Bowlin for reminding me of the 80th anniversary of the old theater.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who some say once locked his little sister in the empty Rialto Theater, or at least that's what she remembers. Why would a brother do something like that? This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times February 10, 2018.

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Bandera Pass, around 1905.
Automobiles didn't arrive in significant numbers until 1908,
so the road shown is a wagon trail.
Click on any image to enlarge.

I recently was given a photo on which is written "Bandera Pass, 1905." That date appears to be fairly close, given the other photos in the packet. If so, it's the oldest photo I've ever seen of Bandera Pass, and was taken before automobiles were common in our part of the world. The dirt road shown in the photo is a wagon trail. Looking at the photo it is not hard to imagine travelers on horseback cutting through the pass.

Bandera Pass, date unknown.
Photo possibly by Ellen O'Neal

Bandera Pass has been in use for thousands of years, and when we drive our automobiles over the smooth road today, we're following a path used since prehistoric times.
No one knows how many generations of Native Americans passed this way, but an archeological site on the southern side of Bandera Pass suggests there was a camp there at least 3,000 years ago. If you use 25 years as a rough estimate of a single generation, people have been traveling along this trail for more than 120 generations.
When the Comanche arrived in this part of Texas, they used routes established by earlier tribes, including the trail between Bandera Pass and the river crossing near downtown Kerrville. The route was called the Comanche Trace.

Bandera Pass Texas around 1935 by Starr Bryden

Bandera Pass, around 1935
Photo by Starr Bryden

Later, when the Spanish built their missions and presidios in Texas, the route saw soldiers and priests traveling from San Antonio to missions in the northern hill country, including Mission San Saba, which was near present-day Menard.
In 1732 a battle between Spanish forces and Lipan Apaches occurred at Bandera Pass. In the three-day battle the Spanish were victorious and resulted in a brief period of peace between the Spanish colonists and the Apache tribes. An early map, from around 1815, shows the pass as "Puerta de la Bandera."
When Texas was a part of Mexico, the trail would have been used by Mexican soldiers and settlers.

Bandera Pass, around 1926

And when Texas gained its independence from Mexico, the trail saw use by both settlers and groups of Texas Rangers.
One group of Rangers, it is said, fought a battle at Bandera Pass. John Coffee "Jack" Hayes, one of the most colorful Texas Ranger captains, fought in the battle. Though the various accounts of the battle seem to conflict with each other -- including the actual date of the battle, and whether the Ranger's newly acquired Colt Paterson revolvers played a role in the encounter -- it is likely more than one skirmish between the various local tribes and Texas Rangers occurred near the site.
The oddest travelers through Bandera Pass walked the trail in August 1856, when a herd of forty camels, arriving from the Texas coast after a sea journey from the Middle East, walked the last few miles of their journey to Camp Verde. What a sight they must have been.
Those camels followed a wagon trail not unlike the one shown in the recently found 1905 photograph of Bandera Pass.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who explored the hills and cliffs around Bandera Pass years ago, when he was much younger. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times February 17, 2018.

Home of Henry and Clara Candlin, around 1895,
on the western corner of Washington and Main Streets, Kerrville.
Click on any image to enlarge.

Henry Candlin and his wife Clara King Candlin moved to Kerrville in 1880, and left in 1899, moving to Greeley, Colorado. While here they had eight children, seven sons and one daughter.
A few of their descendants were in town recently, from Austin and Florida, and a friend sent them by the print shop. The descendants showed me a photograph of the Candlin's house in Kerrville, and I didn't recognize the structure. Looking at the building, I doubted it was in Kerrville. It looked like a German immigrant's house to me, like you'd see in Fredericksburg or Comfort.
Until the descendants' visit, I'd never heard of the Candlins.
Looking into their story, however, I'm surprised I had not. They were a very interesting couple.
Both were born in England. He was from Nottinghamshire, England; his ancestral home was on a street called The Cranny, in Offord Cluny, Huntingdon, England. She was from Swindon, Wiltshire. Her father was a Methodist Wesleyan minister, and they were married in London at the Wesleyan Chapel in 1879.

The Candlin Family, around 1892

In 1880 they moved to Kerrville. They lived in a house on the corner of Main and Washington streets, where Craig Leslie has his law office today. When I pulled out my old maps of Kerrville I found, to my surprise, a structure on that corner which had the exact same footprint as the house in the photograph.
So I was wrong: the house in the photograph which I suspected of being a German immigrant's house elsewhere was actually here in Kerrville, about a block from the Kerr County courthouse.
Henry Candlin was the first official Department of Agriculture weather observer for our community. His name can be found in newspapers statewide beside his reports of the temperature, rainfall, observations about crops and their prospects. He authored Kerrville's first Climate and Crop Report in October, 1896.
He was interested in science beyond meteorology. He provided two specimens of a river snake (natrix fasciata transvera Hallowell) to the Smithsonian Institution; one he collected from the Guadalupe, the other from Quinlan Creek. They were little black water snakes with yellow spots and a yellowish belly, perhaps called either a Blotched Watersnake or a plain-bellied water snake. I'm sure you've seen relatives of the long-absent specimens along the riverbank.
Henry Candlin was also a charter member of the local Masonic Lodge.

The Candlin home is circled above.

The family suggested he was city clerk here, which is possible. The City of Kerrville was incorporated in 1889. He also taught stenography and shorthand from his Kerrville home, according to an 1895 advertisement I found.
After moving to Greeley, Colorado, Henry Candlin focused on the temperance movement, and was active in the Loyal Temperance Legion. He also taught Sunday School in the Methodist Church.
The couple knew their share of tragedy. One of the couple's sons, Victor Gladstone Candlin, died in France during World War I and is buried there. Another son, Percy Raymond, was killed in an industrial accident. Both men were born here in Kerrville.
Henry Candlin died in 1931; his widow, in 1943. Both passed away in Greeley. Their house on Main Street in Kerrville was replaced by a gas station in the 1930s.
Now that I know where the Candlin's home was in Kerrville, I have spotted it in the background of several other downtown photographs. It's nice to fill in a spot on the map with a good image of their home. I'm thankful for the friend who sent the Candlin's relatives my way.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who is often surprised by new discoveries of Old Town Kerrville. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times February 24, 2018.

Elizabeth Crook the Which Way Tree cover

The Which Way Tree, by Elizabeth Crook

The Which Way Tree, Elizabeth Crook's latest novel, is a compelling story set in the rocky canyons around Camp Verde and Bandera Pass during the American Civil War. In the book a young girl, Samantha, and her mother are attacked by a mountain lion; the mother dies and Samantha's face is disfigured. Orphaned, Samantha becomes obsessed with killing the mountain lion. Her half-brother Benjamin reluctantly joins the pursuit, if only to keep watch on his sister. As they seek her revenge they are joined by an aging preacher, a colorful rancher, and a panther-tracking dog -- all while being pursued by an angry and wounded Confederate soldier.
Life in Kerr County in the 1860s was hard. Human dangers were many, from Indian raids to terrifying Hangerbandes. Nature offered death from snakebites, disease, or common infections. People lived in isolation, sheltered inside crude cabins, living miles from help or aid. Ms. Crook paints that part of her story well, and accurately.

Elizabeth Crook
Photo by Kenny Braun

In addition, small historic details -- from the spelling of Kerrsville to a passing mention of Simon Ayala, a local one-legged cowboy -- are spot on. Reading the story transports you to our home country as it was in 1863.
Others have noted the influence of True Grit and Moby Dick on this story of Samantha's determination to kill the mountain lion which killed her mother. There is another influence on this novel, one perhaps not known to those who do not live here: the Texas Hill Country is a major character in The Which Way Tree. In Crook's novel the land shapes the characters as much as the time period in which they live, and Samantha's single-minded determination reflects the grit which was required of all who settled here in the 1860s.
Ms. Crook has deep Kerr County roots: her great-grandmother opened a grocery store in Kerrville in 1905, and her family owns property near Camp Verde. Setting the story in our area reveals her understanding of our local history, the fact that she's spent a lot of time here, and also a gentle appreciation of the land itself.
The Which Way Tree (Little, Brown, 288 pages, $26) is available locally at Wolfmueller's Books.

This review originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times March 1, 2018.

April 17, 1895 statement of A. Bl Williamson's account with Parsons Bros.
Click on any image to enlarge.

The old printer in me certainly enjoyed looking through my friend Bryant Saner's collection of Kerrville invoices from the turn of the last century.
Some were from companies of which I'd never heard. One had a typo. One showed frugality, which may have been one of the reasons that merchant was so successful. One was issued from a company that once stood about where our print shop stands today in the 600 block of Water Street. Another showed a wide and discordant assortment of products.

W. E. Stewart notesheet

For example, W. E. Stewart's stationery plainly said he was a druggist, and that's what I've seen in my research. "Physician's Prescriptions Carefully Prepared," his stationery stated. But his stationery also said he was a dealer in "paints, oils, dye stuffs, etc." He also sold "Toilet Articles and Fancy Goods," including fine stationery, and perfumes.
The note written on the W. E. Stewart stationery was signed by A. M. Gilmer, and requested "jury scrip due me for services as a Grand Juror at the last term of court also scrip for holding election."
Most of the other items were invoices to A. B. (Albert Bonaparte) Williamson, who was born in Kerrville in 1868. He lived in Kerrville his entire life, passing away in 1948. Williamson served as Kerr County treasurer for 24 years, and later was Cashier at First State Bank. Many of the invoices in Bryant Saner's collection use Williamson's nickname, "Bony."
Williamson was a customer of several drug stores including W. E. Stewart's, Rawson's, A. M. Morriss, Roberts & Kyle, and J. B. Mosby. Those last three were new to me.
He bought lumber from Frank J. Beitel, dealer in "Calcasieu, Lousiana and Texas Lumber," and from H. Remschel.

H. Remschel invoice

Remschel's invoice is interesting. It's marked paid and signed by Remschel, who probably knows how to spell his own name. The poor printer, however, spelled the name incorrectly, "Remshcel."

J L Pampell was frugal

Williamson also spent a total of 40 cents over a four month period with T. F. Coffey, a dealer in "confectioneries." Looking closer at the bill, however, the printed name T. F. Coffey is marked through, and replaced, by hand with Jno. L. Pampell. J. L. Pampell was the founder of Pampell's, which included a pharmacy and soda fountain, along with a soft drink bottling plant in the back of the building.
Rather than have new invoices printed, Mr. Pampell frugally used up the supply on hand. Such habitual thrift may have contributed to his family's successful business.
The invoice which I was most happy to see was from Parson Brothers, who operated livery feed, and sale stables. "Gentle driving and saddle horses a specialty," their invoice advised.
On April 17, 1895 the Parsons sent Williamson a bill for use of a saddle horse (50 cents), a buggy (50 cents), a hack (50 cents), and a surrey (75 cents). The total bill was $2.25.

Crescent Dairy invoice

That scrap of printed paper, with a handwritten statement of Mr. Williamson's account, was filled out and figured on the site of the parking lot next to our print shop, the exact spot where the Parsons' business once stood.
It delighted me to think of the journey this little scrap of ephemera had made over the past 123 years, to travel in a circle from its source in a livery stable in 1895 to its visit to a print shop in 2018.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who collects historical items from Kerrville and Kerr County. If you have something you'd care to share with him, it would make him happy. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times March 3, 2018.

Sometimes I post things on Facebook which do not appear in this blog. If you'd like to connect with me on Facebook, you can find me here: facebook.com/joe.herring

Westminster Encampment Dining Hall
Click on any image to enlarge

In 1906 a Presbyterian church camp called Westminster Encampment was established in Kerrville, and it had a lasting influence on our community. Most of the 100 or so buildings are no longer here, but a few remain on the western edge of the Schreiner University campus. The camp operated until 1950, when most of its equipment was transferred to the then recently purchased Mo-Ranch, which is still in operation as a Presbyterian conference center west of Hunt on the north fork of the Guadalupe.

Robbins Lewis Auditorium

I was going through my collection of Kerr County photographs, and found a nice sample of photographs of Westminster Encampment. Going through them reminded me that days back then were slower and life simpler. It was an earnest time.
In those days communities competed to attract church camps, and Kerrville was fortunate enough to attract Westminster Encampment and Methodist Encampment. Both came here through gifts of land and financial donations.

Westminster Tabernacle

Westminster Encampment was organized by Rev. Hugh W. Hoon and a group of San Antonio ministers under the Presbyterian Synod of Western Texas. Kerrville, through the efforts of A. C. Schreiner and H. Remschel, offered 42 prime acres along the Guadalupe and $2,500 in cash. Those first few years offered fairly primitive facilities, but in a few years the camp offered comfortable lodging and conference services, including a special train stop for the San Antonio and Aransas Pass railroad, which ran near the site.

Westminster Encampment
Note the tents

Looking through the photos in my collection, I'm impressed by the architecture of the camp. Many of the buildings were designed to take advantage of summer breezes, and offered abundant porches and shade.
People came to Kerrville to these camps for several reasons. First, many loved the hills and river here. Second, it was a lot less humid here than elsewhere, such as Houston. Third, it was usually cooler here during the summer months than in the cities, in part because of our altitude. Many also traveled here because they felt Kerr County was healthier.

Westminster Encampment
photo by Wheelus

The purpose of Westminster Encampment was, of course, spiritual enrichment. But that purpose was met with rest, fellowship, sunshine, swimming in the river, and education.
Other groups used the encampment besides the Presbyterians. Looking through old newspapers, I see notices for a Y.M.C.A. camp to be held on the grounds, and Chautauquas, which were a type of educational lecture and music program, were often held there. Musical performances were also produced there, and advertised as being for everyone in Kerrville.

Westminster Encampment Waterfront Kerrville

Westminster waterfront

Many of the buildings on the camp grounds were built by Presbyterian congregations, but some by individual Presbyterian families. These houses were on streets which no longer exist: Billie, Atlas, Nassau, Hoon, and Delaney, to name a few.
Each camping season a small village assembled on the edge of Kerrville, offering many area firsts. For example, the first lending library in Kerrville is reported to have been at the camp.

Westminster Young People's
Building

There were obvious economic benefits to Kerrville in having Westminster Encampment locate here, but there were some not as obvious other benefits, too. Westminster Encampment was the first of many area camps owned by a religious group, and it led the way as Kerr County became an area known for summer camps of all types. What would Kerr County be without summer camps?
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who spent a part of each summer during his teen years at a church camp in Leakey, Alto Frio Baptist Encampment. I have many happy memories of time spent there. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times March 10, 2018.

Front page, Kerrville Paper, March 28, 1891
Click to enlarge

This week a kind friend brought by a copy of the Kerrville Paper dated Saturday March 28, 1891, almost exactly 127 years ago. The newspaper is in remarkably good shape.
It's a four-page newspaper, with pages measuring 17 by 24 inches, which is a huge sheet when compared to today's newspapers. It offered its readers a range of local and state news, a poem, a serialized work of fiction, a few jokes, and advertisements from national and local firms.
The variety of stories and advertisements would have been quite entertaining, especially in a world which lacked radio, television, or the Internet.
The biggest local story was on the front page: that week Masonic Lodge 697 was organized here in Kerrville, and the editor of the newspaper, Ed Smallwood, was installed as W. Master. Other officers included W. E. Stewart, a prominent pharmacist; John Vann, who would serve as Kerr County sheriff; Nathan Herzog, who worked in Charles Schreiner's store; Richard Laird; Dr. J. D. Everett; William Robinson; P. Smith; and Henry Candlin.
That last name, Henry Candlin, might be familiar. I wrote about Henry Candlin a few weeks ago, a man of whom I had never heard until some of his descendents stopped by the shop with a photograph of his house at the intersection of Main and Washington streets.

Henry Candlin and family
around 1892

Henry Candlin was born in England and lived in Kerrville for almost 20 years, from 1880 to 1899. He had a scientific mind; he sent specimens of local blotched water snakes (Nerodia erythrogaster transversa) to the Smithsonian, and was also Kerrville's official weather observer.
This issue of the Kerrville Paper mentions Henry Candlin three times. First, as the newly installed Tiler at the newly constituted Masonic Lodge.
Second, he gives an account as corresponding secretary of the Bible Society, which aimed to "place a Bible in every home and one for every child who can read." These Bibles were sold at cost, but should a family not have enough money to purchase a copy, one was given to the "free of any charge whatever."
Lastly, Henry Candlin is mentioned in a large advertisement on page 4. "Hy. Candlin, House Painter and Decorater; Kerrville Paint Shop, South of Post Office." The advertisement promised Candlin would do first-class work, and painted not only houses, but also carriages and signs. "My work," the advertisement states, "can be seen on some of the principal buildings in Kerrville."
So with this one copy of the Kerrville Paper we learn a lot about our mystery man Henry Candlin.
The other big story on the front page was of a robbery of the stage between Comfort and Fredericksburg, which was "held up [Wednesday] by a lone highwayman. There was but one passenger in the stage. No resistance was offered by either the passenger or the driver."
Although the robber searched through the mail sack carried by the stage, nothing was taken from it, "as there were no money packages found among it."
The entire haul for the robber was four dollars, taken from Mr. J. D. Price of Jackson, Michigan, who was quoted as saying he "threw up his hands because he had nothing to throw down on the robber."
Many of the local advertisements were for firms unknown to me. Crooks Bros., dealers in General Merchandise, had a store near the depot.
The Globe Grocery Store had just opened in the Masonic Building, which still stands in the 200 block of Earl Garrett Street. The Globe offered "Staple and Fancy Groceries at prices that will astonish the natives."
The New York Store, which can be seen in one of the photographs in my collection, was advertising its Spring 1891 goods. Suits, shoes, dress goods, and novelties at the store which was the "leader in low prices."
A new Spanish-language newspaper for Kerrville was mentioned: "E Promotor." I wonder if any copies still exist.
I'm thankful to the kind friend who sent me this copy of the Kerrville Paper. I've certainly enjoyed reading it and I'm thankful she shared it with all of us.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who relies on the kindness of others to add to his collection of Kerrville and Kerr County historical items. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times March 17, 2018.

The Sidney Baker Street Bridge in 1971 --
dedicated to Charles Schreiner in 1935.
Click on any image to enlarge.

Is it possible to love a bridge?
Every time I show photos of the old Highway 16 bridge in downtown Kerrville, folks say "I loved that bridge."

That bridge, a camel-backed steel truss bridge was constructed in 1935, and extended Sidney Baker Street across the Guadalupe River. It was a two-lane bridge with a pedestrian walkway.
In the mid-1970s the bridge was widened from two to five lanes, with a pedestrian sidewalk, and transformed from a truss bridge to a pre-stressed concrete girder bridge. The bridge went from 22 feet wide to 60 feet and the improvements cost around $1.1 million.
While the new improved bridge was needed and more efficient, it isn't as attractive as the old bridge. I think that's why people say they loved the old bridge.
When the original bridge was built in 1935, it was a major improvement for our community.
Before then there were crossings at Francisco Lemos Street and G Street, as well as a private crossing near the confluence of Quinlan Creek and the Guadalupe River.

The problem with all of these other bridges was that they were low water crossings, and every time the river rose they became impassable. The Highway 16 bridge extending Sidney Baker Street solved this problem for all except the most severe floods.
There is a small plaque on the current Sidney Baker Street bridge which reads "Dedicated to Captain Charles Schreiner: a pioneer in citizenship, philanthropy and highway building in the hill country." That plaque was transferred from the old 1935 bridge to the current bridge.
I suppose, with this dedicatory plaque, the real name of the bridge is the Charles Schreiner Bridge.

The current bridge still has some of the bones of the old bridge; several of the original piers were widened to support the bridge. You can tell which ones are original because the 1970s piers are shaped like a "T," with arms extending on both sides, and the old piers are not. When the steel trusses were removed, the span between piers had to be shortened, requiring new piers to be built. The pier in the middle of the river, for example, is a new pier.
Some of the features of the old 1935 bridge were nice. The original bridge sported fancy lighting, and a more protected walkway for pedestrians. Today's sidewalk is not separated from the traffic except by a curb; the old bridge had a barrier between the two.
It also had three distinctive steel trusses through which all traffic passed. Unless my memory is wrong, the steel structure was painted silver.

There were tales of young people jumping from the old bridge into the Guadalupe River below, a risky sport considering the height of the bridge and the random arrangement of boulders below the surface of the water.
While I never jumped from the bridge, I did climb across the top of its camel-back once, after it was closed to traffic. The renovation project occurred when I was in middle school, a time in most young men's lives when common sense is not well-formed. Several of my friends and I knew the old structure was going to be dismantled and figured if we were ever going to climb across it, this would be our last chance.
Of course, we didn't tell our parents about our adventure until years later.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who thinks the new Spur 98 Bridge (Thompson Drive) at Highway 27, next to the Lakehouse Restaurant, is a much more attractive bridge. It needs a name. This column appeared originally in the Kerrville Daily Times March 24, 2018.

Tivy High School baseball team 1967-68, fifty years ago.
Click on any image below to enlarge.

There have been baseball teams representing Kerrville since the late 1800s, well before the first Tivy football team was organized here in 1911.

Kerrville Athletics, around 1910

The earliest local news accounts of Kerrville baseball are from 1891, when the team was simply called the Kerrville team or the Kerrville boys. My history-sleuth friend Deborah Gaudier found a mention of a Kerrville baseball team in the San Antonio Daily Light, on July 11, 1894.
The first mention of a team name comes in 1909, with the Kerrville Cardinals, a team name used again later.

Kerrville All-Stars, around 1949

Before the 1960s, baseball in Kerrville was segregated, unfortunately, and there were teams made up of African-American players, notably the Kerrville All-Stars, and a local Hispanic-American team, also called the Kerrville Cardinals, which played as early as the mid-1940s. Despite segregated teams, baseball helped create community as people gathered to watch their favorite team play, as people of all races could be found in the audience.

Kerrville Cardinals, 1947

Other local teams were the Kerrville Athletics, which played in the mid-1910s, the Kerrville Eagles, from the early 1960s, and the Kerrville Indians which began around 1960.

Jimmie Peschel, pitching
for the Kerrville Indians

In fact, in the early 1960s, the Kerrville Indians moved an entire baseball stadium from Comfort to Kerrville, piece by piece, after buying it from the owner of the defunct Comfort Broncos team. That baseball field stood on about four acres of county land, on Highway 27 next to what is now the Hill Country Youth Event Center.
The earliest mention of Little League Baseball in Kerrville is on October 6, 1953, when a front-page story reported on a talk to the Kerrville Rotary Club to be given by Marvin Bradford, the head of Little League Baseball in San Antonio. The Rotarians agreed to support Little League Baseball in Kerrville as a project for the upcoming year.

Kerrville Eagles, 1960s

Little League practice started in May, 1954, at the "Little League Baseball Field located on Fredericksburg Road north of Antler Stadium. All boys between the ages of 8 and 12 years are eligible for the Little League." Boys were asked to bring their own glove, and "wear any kind of shoes except those which have metal cleats."
More than 100 boys showed up.

Kerrville Little League, 1970s

Dr. F. M. Mares, Kerrville's first Little League director, met with the boys that first Saturday and explained "that Little League is being sponsored in the community by the Rotary Club for the youngsters and their pleasure. It is up to [the boys] to learn the game, to conduct themselves mannerly on the field of play, and to foster better sportsmanship."

Kerrville Little League, 1960s

As a child, I participated in Kerrville Little League in the early 1970s, and played at that ball field, though not very well. Thousands of young baseball players have played in the Kerrville Little League.
With the opening of the new soccer and baseball fields on Holdsworth Drive, a new chapter is starting in Kerrville baseball, one I know will follow the guidance Dr. Mares offered young players over 60 years ago.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who still enjoys watching a good baseball game. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times March 31, 2018

What has 192 pages, tons of historic Kerr County photographs, and a collection of my columns? Why, my second book! Click here for FREE shipping.

Louise Hays Park, not long after its single-day construction, on April 26, 1950.
Note the pontoon bridge in the background.
Click on any image to enlarge

My son Joe and I walk through Louise Hays Park several times a week, and this week I was reminded how much it's changed since it was built in a single day, back on April 26, 1950.

Louise Hays,
Robert Hays,
and Mayor Bullard

Robert S. Hayes, an oilman from San Antonio took possession of a 2800 acre ranch south of the city on October 1, 1949. He offered to donate 35 acres to the city on a public (and a private) condition. The public condition: the park would be named for his young wife, Louise. The private condition: the park had to be built in a day. A family member told me that he wanted the park built in a day because he was worried the sleepy little town napping in the bend of the Guadalupe River would put off finishing the park, and it would never get done.
The community took the challenge.

The big day

Jack Peterson chaired the committee that built the park. J. O. McKnight was the landscape architect that designed the park, which featured drives, a grand arched entryway, picnic tables, a pontoon bridge, playground equipment, and a big, big slab -- for dances. The committee labored under the constant constraint: it had to be built in a day. The roadways would be a challenge. The archway, another. The big slab, yet another. The plan brought in estimates of $20,000. Subcommittees raised donations from businesses and individuals, and area stockmen were asked to contribute livestock for a big auction. The grocery stores sent food for the lunches. Bakeries sent doughnuts and bread. Schreiner College sent some engineering students under the careful supervision of Harry Crate. The principal at Tivy High School came with some young volunteers. Contributions came from the entire county -- not just the city residents.

The pontoon bridge

After months of planning, April 26, 1950, the Big Day, dawned slowly over Tivy Mountain. At 7 o'clock that morning work began, to the sounds of horns, whistles, bells, and sirens. The Rev. Walter Kerr, pastor of the First Methodist Church, and chair of the ministerial alliance, asked a blessing on the crew. The lovely Ms. Louise Hays turned the first spade of dirt. Then an estimated 2,000 workers began their history-making project.
When the sun set over the western hills beyond Ingram and Hunt, Kerrville had built a park.
Kerrville had also made news. "New Park? It's All in a Day's Work." reported the Dallas News. "$1,000,000 Kerr Park Built in Day," said the Star-Telegram. The San Angelo Standard told its readers "Just Like They Said, 'We'll Build a Park in a Day.'"

Millstone Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

The missing millstone

In its first few years, the park had many features which might surprise visitors today.
On the hillside below the metal pavilion and above the current covered stage there was once a miniature golf course. I'm old enough to remember the course, set into the steep hillside.
I do not remember the pontoon bridge, but I have several photographs of the structure. I imagine it did not last long after the first flood. From the photos, I think the pontoon bridge was about where today's river dam now stands.
Also missing from the park: a table made from the millstone from Kerrville's Dietert Mill. The old mill site is still here, though in horrible shape. The millstone was reported missing in 1971, and a reward was offered for its return.

Navy Jet Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

Navy F9F-5 Panther at park

Apparently the park once had a Navy jet on display, also near the playground area. It was a F9F-5 Panther, and it was placed at the park in 1959. I'm not sure when it left.

Ave-Cot Thrill Show Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

The Ave-Cot Thrill Show

Elsewhere I have written about the water ski shows produced by Cotton and Ava Eldridge, the Ave-Cot Water Thrill Show, which were extremely popular in the late 1950s. The shows included stunt water skiing, jumps, and even a water skiing dog, and were produced in that little body of water at the park.

Swimming pool Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

Deep swimming pool at park

And there was once a deep swimming hole, just upstream from the Sidney Baker Street bridge, complete with a diving board. That, too, was a victim of a flood, and filled with rocks and debris from upstream.

Community picnic Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

Community picnics

There were once long picnic tables and a barbecue pit at the park, up on the high ground. I remember attending many events there, mostly fundraisers produced by local service clubs. The food was good, and it was fun eating with so many folks from the community.

BBQ Cooks Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

Cooks at park BBQ pit

Today's improvements are nice, too, and I enjoy visiting the park. It's a real asset for downtown Kerrville. No one knows what the park might look like in fifty years, but I bet it will continue to be a great draw for visitors to Kerrville.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who has spent many happy hours at Louise Hays Park, both as a child, and with his own children. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times April 7, 2018

Kerrville Mountain Sun Louise Hays Park Kerrville Texas

A paperboy for the Kerrville Times, mid-1950s.
My notes say "Robert Warren and Mickey."
Click on any image to enlarge

When I was a boy, the Kerrville Daily Times office was on Earl Garrett Street; the first owner and publisher I remember was Bill Dozier.

Kerrville Times offices on Earl Garrett Street

Office on Earl Garrett Street

I ran across some photographs of the Kerrville Daily Times printing plant in my collection this week, and I was amazed at the changes in the technology used to bring you the news.
Today's newspaper is very different from those produced in the mid-1960s, when most of these old photographs were taken. While ink is still put on paper today, much of the work before the press is very different.
This column, for instance, arrives at the newspaper office by email. I type it from my desk at work and send it in, usually quite late on Thursdays. I also send a link to the photographs accompanying the column, which I've stored 'in the cloud' for the editors of the paper to easily retrieve.
From there the column is placed on a page using a computer, and photographs are dropped into place using a mouse. Once a page has been prepared, it's sent to a machine which makes a printing plate. That plate is used on the printing press.

Linotype machines at the Kerrville Daily Times

Linotypes in a row

Not so in the photos from the 1960s. A long line of four Linotype machines prepared matrices of letters used to form type with molten lead. These columns of type were locked into a chase, along with 'cuts' of photographs, ads, and graphics, like maps.
Those Linotype machines were loud, hot, noisy beasts. The noise made in that row of typesetting machines would have been deafening.
Merely running the Linotype would not have been enough to prepare a newspaper, though.

Bill Dozier at work at the Kerrville Daily Times

Bill Dozier assembling
a page of type

I was happy to see a photo of a very young Bill Dozier assembling a page of type, readying it for the press. Each page would have been assembled by hand, and locked into position. In our shop, we have one of the old composition tables from the Kerrville Mountain Sun, a worthy competitor of the Kerrville Daily Times. Thousands of pages were assembled on that stand up desk.
Photographs were converted into an engraved piece of metal, the exact same height as a piece of type. I have a few of these old photograph cuts, and I still can't believe they worked.

The dangerous press

Before 1967, the Kerrville Daily Times was printed on a press that, frankly, looks extremely dangerous. I could not help but notice what looks like an electric cord snaking its way across the floor, along with wrenches dropped beside the running press; both are tripping hazards. The machine itself has exposed gears and belts. One of the pressmen is smoking, even though some of the chemicals in a pressroom are flammable; in fact you can see three cans of solvent in the photograph. To the side you can see an open barrel of ink, and along the wall (and on a pane of the window), are handprints that look like the cave art of an ancient tribe.
Just looking at the photo scares me, and I've been around running printing presses a very long time.

Dozier family with Goss Community press Kerrville Daily Times 1967

The Dozier family with the new
Goss Community press, 1967

Later photos show the new Goss Community printing press being installed in 1967. It was safer and capable of printing in full color, a great improvement. Seeing the photograph of the Dozier family reading freshly-printed editions of the newspaper made me miss them.

Goss Community press Kerrville Daily Times 1967

KDT Goss Community
Compare with press above.

That press was a huge improvement, and allowed the newspaper to grow and thrive. No longer were pages composed of metal. Using a darkroom, the press used printing plates, something called, at the time, photo offset printing.
The noisy Linotypes were no longer needed, and composition was done using paste-ups and Rubylith. Photos were converted to a series of dots, or halftones, and placed into position.
Today computers have eliminated paste up and darkrooms. Photographs are scanned and sent as digital files. The pages go directly from the computer to the plate.
The thing that hasn't changed from these old photographs of the Kerrville Daily Times is this: it takes a lot of very talented people to bring you the news each week. Editorial, advertising, accounting, composition and pressroom staff work together to make the newspaper you're holding today, which is brought to you by hard-working carriers. Each issue is a kind of miracle.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who enjoys being a small part of your weekend newspaper. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times April 14, 2018.

Rocksprings, Texas, after the F5 Tornado crashed through town on April 12, 1927

Ninety-one years ago, on Tuesday, April 12, 1927, a huge F5 tornado struck Rocksprings, Texas, killing over 70 people, and injuring more than 200, casualties totaling roughly 1/3 of the population of Rocksprings at the time. The number of fatalities make it the third deadliest tornado in Texas.
Of the community's roughly 247 buildings, only a dozen remained standing after the storm hit.
Rocksprings, for those who might not know, is the county seat of Edwards County, which borders Kerr County to the west; it's about 77 miles by car from Kerrville to Rocksprings.
I'm thankful to my business neighbor and fellow history enthusiast Dayton Baublit for reminding me of the anniversary of the Rocksprings disaster, and for loaning me photographs of its aftermath.
April 12, 1927 started out as a normal Texas hill country day, though a storm was building on the horizon. That evening, at dusk, as families gathered around their dinner tables, the skies turned dark and the electricity went out. Several of the surviving families mentioned the lights going out as the storm hit. In five minutes the tornado had leveled most of Rocksprings.
The tornado touched down northwest of Rocksprings and traveled toward the southeast. When it crossed Rocksprings, it was nearly one mile wide, according to the National Weather Service website. It tore through the town, and continued on for at least 35 miles, and perhaps as far as 65.
Getting help to Rocksprings was difficult because the roads were not like our modern highways. Traveling to Rocksprings in those days was a difficult journey over rough roads, in vehicles not noted for their smooth rides.

Another view of the destruction

Neighboring communities responded to the tragedy. According to the San Antonio Express of April 14, 1927, "Uvalde, Del Rio, San Antonio and Kerrville citizens organized relief parties upon receipt of news of the disaster and started out over almost impassable roads, under most unfavorable weather conditions, to reach the stricken village. It was necessary to cross and re-cross the Nueces River which winds its way through the mountains, and absence of bridges on the rocky, mountainous road, made fording the stream extremely hazardous."
With so many of the buildings destroyed, it was imperative to get the injured to hospitals, many of them to hospitals in San Antonio.
Most of the injured were carried to nearby Camp Wood, about 30 miles south, because it had the nearest railroad, the Uvalde and Northern Railroad, and sent by train first to Uvalde, and then to hospitals in San Antonio. Others were flown to San Antonio via the Kelly Field aerial ambulance service, which provided 10 relief planes. Other planes from Fort Sam Houston and Brooks Field were involved in relief work, as well.
The dead were buried in the local cemetery, their graves blasted out of the stony site with dynamite. Families were buried together, but family lots could not be designated. There was no local undertaker, and coffins had to be brought in from other communities.
Sixteen bodies buried in the cemetery were never identified, and rest under a marker which reads "Unknown/16 Graves."
The San Antonio Express of April 14, 1927, tells of the survivors:
"Not only do they have no homes to go to, but survivors of the cyclone are without [a change of] clothes. Nearly every man and woman has blood on his or her clothes.
"Having partially completed their humanitarian work, after 24 hours ministering to the dead and dying, the residents too tired to further carry on stood in the streets and cried Wednesday night as darkness settled over the stricken town."
The story of the Rocksprings tornado is a story of tragedy, but also a story of bravery and hope. Countless acts of bravery and charity were freely given in the days following the disaster. Rocksprings rebuilt after the tornado, and while that day cannot be forgotten, the history of the community since then has been one of families helping families, of economic growth, and of service to others.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who enjoys visiting with his friends from Rocksprings. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times April 21, 2018.

The tunnel in the basement of the old Kerrville Ice Plant.
Click on any image to enlarge.

If you were to drive down Washington Street, toward the river, cross Water street, enter the parking area of One Schreiner Center, and walk to the edge of the bluff, you'd find a little deck-like area, overlooking the river. My long-time friend Ed Hamilton owns the property and has spruced up the deck, adding a wall and a guardrail several years ago. It offers a good view of the dam in Louise Hays Park, of the Sidney Baker Street bridge, and, if you're not too afraid of heights, a glimpse of the crumbling old millworks below.

Kerrville Ice Plant
note boy on
window ledge.

The deck-like structure is all that remains of the Kerrville Ice Plant, which was originally a three-story building. What most don't realize as they stand there: the building's old basement is directly beneath them.
Further, a 75-foot long tunnel extends from the basement toward Washington Street, and along the tunnel, to the left, is a 600 square foot room, far beneath the surface.
Recently Mr. Hamilton had a team of engineers check out the old structure, and they took a lot of photos of the basement, the tunnel, and the hidden room. Mr. Hamilton was kind enough to share them with all of us.
Just a note, adventure seekers: the basement has been sealed up, again, after these photos were taken. Those seeking to climb around down there should probably call 911 before starting. I think the only people who could rescue you from the old basement today are members of the Kerrville Fire Department.

Mill Dam and Ice Plant

In the mid-1970s, when I was a middle-school student, there was a fairly safe way to get into the building, and I've been inside the basement more than once, most recently in the 1990s. That (kind of) safe entrance was sealed up many years ago.
The recent photos show the building as I remember it, with debris and dirt scattered on the floor, and with bare concrete walls and columns. There's a lot more graffiti than I remember, but it's been decades since I was down there.
According to an article by Michael Bowlin, published in the February 10th, 1991 edition of this newspaper, the ice plant building was constructed during the time Seaborn Eastland owned the mill. In the early 1920s, Eastland bought the mill and tore down most of the buildings, except the ice plant, which was a three-story red brick building atop the basement still standing today. The Eastlands leased or sold the building to a San Antonio firm in the late 1950s, and operations continued as a cold storage facility until 1965. The building was abandoned in 1965 and ordered torn down in 1968 by order of the fire marshal.

The basement today

While the upper stories were torn down, the basement, tunnel and inner room remained.
In the 1980s a historical marker was dedicated near the site, to commemorate the old Dietert Mill, traces of which can still be seen below the ice plant basement.

Another view of the basement

In the days before most homes had a refrigerator, ice was an important commodity. Homes displayed a blue diamond in their front window, to indicate to the ice company how much ice they needed. The ice was delivered and placed in the icebox by men with strong backs.
The ice plant also did a brisk business during hot Texas summers selling chilled watermelons.
While I don't have a clear memory of the old Kerrville Ice Plant, I do have a childhood memory of exploring its basement with other free-range kids my age. I'm thankful to Ed Hamilton for sharing these photographs with us, and for the memories the photographs brought to me.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who spent a lot of his childhood in the downtown area of Kerrville. This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times April 28, 2018.

James Avery, 95th birthday party, December 2016

The last time I visited with James Avery was at his 95th birthday party, in late 2016, given by his wife Estela at the Alegria Barn, near their home on the Fredericksburg Highway. It was a fun event, with music, good food, and a crowd of well-wishers. Jim, though frailer than the previous times we'd visited, was kind and thoughtful. I brought him a copy of a late 1960s-era James Avery Craftsman catalog my father had printed.
I first met Mr. Avery at our family's print shop, when I was a boy. He was a focused printing customer, who knew exactly what he wanted, and several generations of my family worked hard to make sure we met his expectations. He was always kind to me, and to everyone at our print shop, and I have fond memories of him.

The crew of Avery's B-26, which flew
44 bombing missions over Europe in World War II

Homer James Avery first arrived in Texas in 1943, as a 21-year-old Army Air Corps Cadet, when he traveled by train from Illinois to Lackland AFB in San Antonio. As a child, Avery had moved around a lot, between Michigan and Illinois, and after a false start at Michigan State, and a year living with his grandparents in Iowa, he enrolled in the ROTC program at the University of Illinois. He learned of a new department at the University of Illinois, "Industrial Design," and it was Avery's "entrance into the field of design," according to a talk he gave in 2007.
During World War II, in March, 1943, Avery was sent to Lackland. Later, he went to Fort Stockton for primary pilot training, San Angelo for basic training, and on to Lubbock, where he earned his wings in January, 1944.
After Lubbock, Avery was sent to Laughlin Field in Del Rio, where he learned to fly the Martin Marauder, the B-26. The B-26 had a bad reputation, since there were a lot of accidents, especially on take-offs and landings.
Avery met his crew in Shreveport, Louisiana, and they were assigned a new B-26, which they flew from Florida to England, by way of the Caribbean, South America, Ascension Island, Liberia, Dakar, Morocco, and then Wales. The trip took nine days.
Together they flew 44 bombing missions in Europe from bases in France.
After the war, Avery returned to the University of Illinois to complete his degree.
After graduation, Avery was offered a position at the University of Iowa to set up a new Industrial Design program in the Fine Arts department. He was only 24 years old.
Two years later, he moved on to the University of Colorado, where he taught in the Fine Arts school for five years.
During this time personal issues caused Avery to become very involved with his church, and with campus youth ministries at the University of Colorado. While in Colorado, he met a young woman from Kerrville, Sally Ranger, who became his second wife in 1953.
Together they moved to Minneapolis, where Avery taught at the University of Minnesota. A very cold winter there helped them decide to move back to Texas.
The couple arrived in Kerrville in June, 1954. In his in-laws' garage, James Avery built a workshop, putting up Celotex on the interior walls, building a workbench, and setting up a polishing lathe. It was there, with a few hand tools, pieces of sterling silver and copper, James Avery started making jewelry.
He'd had some experience making jewelry during his days at the University of Colorado, where some of his students asked if they could design and make jewelry. Avery went to the library, found a book, and he and his students learned how to make jewelry together.
"Designing was not a problem" Avery said, years ago. "Fabricating was."
For the first three years of jewelry making in Kerrville, Avery made every piece himself by hand. He even had a catalog printed, by General Moran, who'd set up a print shop at his house on Jackson Road. Francis "Fuzzy" Swayze took the photos for that first catalog. Prices for the pieces ranged from around $2.50 to $10.00.
"Since I had to make by hand every piece shown in the catalog," Avery said, "I fortunately didn't get swamped with orders."

James Avery designs on Herring Printing Notepaper

Avery designs on some
very attractive notepaper.

The first year's sales were around $5,500; the second, $7,500; the third, over $10,000.
In 1957, Avery hired his first employee, Fred Garcia. "I wouldn't be here today if it were not for Fred and the wonderful people who have helped me these past almost 55 years," Avery remarked in 2007.
The first store outside of Kerrville opened in Dallas in 1973. Today there are around 80 stores across the United States, and over 3,500 employees.
Not too many years ago I stopped by Mr. Avery's office in Kerrville. It turned out to be the last time I saw him there. He was in his nineties at the time.
I stepped into his office and did not see him, but I heard a quiet tapping in a small adjoining room. There I found him at his workbench, a small hammer in hand, working on a piece of silver jewelry in a vise. Hand tools and a small saw were on the worktable. Before him there was a piece of paper with a pencil-drawn design. A bright light shone on the piece, and was reflected on Avery's face. He was smiling.
That's how I'll remember him: At work, alone, at his workbench, quietly making jewelry.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who tries each week to tell the story of our community This column originally appeared in the Kerrville Daily Times May 5, 2018.

One Hundred Years Ago Today in Kerr County: An Immigrant's Gift.

From Kerrville to Junction by Wagon

Time Travel, UFOs, and Two Photographs of Kerrville

Rare photographs of Kerrville covered in snow

A Newly Discovered Photograph of Camp Verde

The Case of the Mystery Building on Water Street

80 Years Ago Today in Kerrville

Newly Discovered Photograph of Bandera Pass

A surprising find in downtown Kerrville

"The Which Way Tree," tells a Texas Hill Country story

Kerrville Ephemera: the curious journey of Parsons' bill

A summer camp at the edge of Kerrville in 1906

Kerrville, 127 years ago this month

A well-remembered bridge in Kerrville

Baseball has a long history in Kerr County

The forgotten treasures of Louise Hays Park

Newspapers have certainly changed

The F5 Tornado that hit Kerrville's neighbor, Rocksprings, Texas, in 1927

At least one of the tunnels in downtown Kerrville

Remembering James Avery