Texas has changed quite a bit over the years, as is readily seen in our vast photograph and postcard collections. To help bring some of those changes to life, we’ve created a “Texas over Time” series of GIFs that will illustrate the construction and renovations of buildings, changing aerial views, and more. Our collections are especially strong on Waco and Baylor images, but look for some views beyond the Heart of Texas, too.
Images from Waco–Streets–Franklin Avenue photo file
At 412 Franklin Ave, early millionaire J.T. Davis ran his oil and cattle empire, Rabajo Oil Co., from 1906 until the 1920s when he died.
From 1907 to 1927, the Waco Installment Co. sold secondhand items, which provided access to appliances and furniture for middle class families at an affordable price.
The longest lasting business on Franklin was the Nate Chodorow dry goods store (316 Franklin), from 1926 to 1970.
The Tom Padgitt Company (5th and Franklin) was one of the most successful saddle manufacturers of its day.
Sources from Franklin Avenue vertical file, The Texas Collection, Baylor University
Cruz, Jonathan. Four-Hundred (Odd) Franklin Avenue: Its People, Past and Places. Rep. N.p.: n.p., n.d. Print. Dec. 10, 1997.
Roberts, Aileen. The Puzzle Pieces of Waco. Rep. N.p.: n.p., n.d. Print. Dec. 10, 1997.
See all of the images in our Flickr set. GIF and factoids prepared by Haley Rodriguez, archives student assistant.
Texas has changed quite a bit over the years, as is readily seen in our vast photograph and postcard collections. To help bring some of those changes to life, we’ve created a “Texas over Time” series of GIFs that will illustrate the construction and renovations of buildings, changing aerial views, and more. Our collections are especially strong on Waco and Baylor images, but look for some views beyond the Heart of Texas, too.
Images from the John Oscar Birgen “Swede” Johnson collection
On September 13, 1896, William George Crush organized the infamous collision of the Katy Roundhouses on the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railroad.
Crush, as the new General Passenger Agent of the MKT System, had the idea to demonstrate a train crash as a publicity stunt and was assured by all but one mechanical engineer that the boilers of the trains would not explode.
For the price of $2 a ticket, over 40,000 spectators came out to the pop-up town of Crush, Texas, to see the “famous duel of the iron monsters.”
Just after 4 pm, Crush threw a hat up into the air, signaling red No. 1001 and green Old No. 99 to begin racing at 90 miles an hour towards each other. The thundering crash of the locomotives sent flying debris towards the massive crowd, causing three deaths and other injuries.
One of the two photographers capturing the event, Jarvis Deane, was among the injured. He lost his eyesight after a missile put out his eye and a metal bolt lodged into his head.
The incident inspired Scott Joplin to write “The Great Crush Collision March.”
See all of the images in our Flickr set. GIFs and factoids prepared by Haley Rodriguez, archives student assistant.
“Armstrong’s Stars” is a collaboration between the Armstrong Browning Library and Baylor’s Texas Collection. Once a month we feature a story about a celebrity that Dr. A.J. Armstrong brought to Baylor. These stories highlight an interesting part of Baylor’s history and include collection materials housed in both the Armstrong Browning Library and the Texas Collection.
This month’s story was contributed by Ph.D. candidate Jeremy Land.
Signed photograph of Robert Frost by Farmer, Waco (Celebrities Visiting Baylor photo file, Armstrong Browning Library)
When he arrived at Baylor in 1922, Robert Frost was one of the most famous poets in America. He had yet to win many of the accolades that would come later in life, but he was well on his way to becoming the household name that he is today. By the time Dr. A.J. Armstrong asked Robert Frost to come and read at Baylor, the poet was already known for his dramatic monologues and innovative blank verse celebrating the lives of New England farmers. Many of his more famous works like “Mending Wall,” “Birches,” and “The Road Not Taken” were well on their way to becoming staples in the American literary canon and poems to study for many American students.
Because of this popularity Frost earned a series of teaching jobs and public readings around the country. However, his confessed love for “barding around, ” a phrase he used to describe his itinerate lecturer lifestyle, had not really brought him very far south, and it apparently would take some convincing before the poet would come to Baylor in 1922 (Burnshaw). To sell Frost on the merits of reading poetry in Texas, Dr. Armstrong relied on his relationship with other literary luminaries who had previously read here. It even took the efforts of fellow poet and mutual friend Carl Sandburg to write Frost on Dr. Armstrong’s behalf and promise him that “they [Baylor students] not only read a man’s books before he arrives but they buy them in record-breaking numbers” (Sandburg 213).
We may never know whether or not Sandburg’s promise of profits and literate crowds was the tipping point in convincing Frost to come to Texas, but we can say that within a few months of Sandburg’s letter, Frost arrived in Dallas for a five city tour of Texas universities. Throughout November of 1922, Robert Frost gave readings at Southern Methodist University, Mary Hardin-Baylor, the City of Temple, and Southwestern University in Georgetown, in addition to Baylor; all of course were arranged by Baylor’s own Dr. A.J. Armstrong. According to the Baylor Lariat, Frost was said to have enjoyed his time at Baylor so much that he frequently said over the next few years that he would like to return to Waco (“Robert Frost, Famous Poet Speaks Here” 1).
A “heavy Frost…in the form of Robert, the Poet” was featured in the 1923 Baylor yearbook The Round Up (The Texas Collection)
It may have taken him a decade, but in 1933 Dr. Armstrong again convinced the New England poet to return to Texas for a second reading. By that time Frost’s reputation as a poet had only grown exponentially. Just two years earlier, he won his second of four Pulitzer prizes for his collected works and was well on his way to completing his seventh volume of original poetry. When he arrived for the second time, Frost was greeted with close to 500 audience members, all eager to hear him recite his most famous works (“Robert Frost, Famous Poet Speaks Here” 1). Ultimately, Frost’s two visits to Baylor left a lasting mark on the University. When he died in 1963, the Lariat dedicated two full pages to the poet’s life and praised his contribution to the American literary landscape. In the end, Robert Frost’s time at Baylor might be best summed up by the students themselves who claimed in their 1923 yearbook that Robert Frost’s visits “materially help[ed] put Baylor on the map” (The Round Up 161).
Works Cited
Burnshaw, Stanley. “Robert Frost.” American National Biography Online. American National Biography Online, Feb. 2000. Web. 5 June 2015
“Robert Frost, Famous Poet Speaks Here.” The Daily Lariat [Waco] 19 Apr. 1933: 1. Web. 5 June 2015
The Round Up. Ed. Enid Eastland. Vol. 22. Jefferson City: Hugh Stephens, 1923. 161. Web. 5 June 2015
Sandburg, Carl. Letter to Robert Frost. Summer 1922. The Letters of Carl Sandburg. Orlando: HBJ, 1968. 213. Print.
Texas has changed quite a bit over the years, as is readily seen in our vast photograph and postcard collections. To help bring some of those changes to life, we’ve created a “Texas over Time” series of GIFs that will illustrate the construction and renovations of buildings, changing aerial views, and more. Our collections are especially strong on Waco and Baylor images, but look for some views beyond the Heart of Texas, too.
We’ve got something a little different for you this month. These images were shot in Texas, but feature promotional movie displays that were probably seen across the country. Our images are from the Waco Hippodrome Theatre in the 1920s-1930s. Check out some of the elaborate productions enticing visitors to these early films.
The Hippodrome, first operated and constructed by Earl Henry Husley, began as a road show house known as “Hulsey’s Hipp” and offered major vaudeville attractions and movies. Construction for the theater house began in 1913 and opened on February 7, 1914.
For a whole ten cents, or a quarter for box seats, the opening night featured a live seal act, a five-piece orchestra, and a magic act.
An affiliate of Paramount, the Hippodrome served as a silent movie theater until a fire started in the projection and destroyed the front of the building in 1928. The renovations resulted in the Spanish Colonial Revival style that still remains today.
Under new management, its name was changed to Waco Theater and attracted many celebrities to Waco, including Elvis Presley (as a moviegoer) and John Wayne. More than 10,000 people gathered to see Wayne’s promotion.
The Junior League of Waco and the Cooper Foundation helped revitalize the theater (which had suffered from competition from suburban theaters) in 1987. The Waco Performing Arts Company operated it till 2010.
After much change throughout its lifetime, the Hippodrome reopened in 2014 and now offers first-release films as well as live theater, concerts, and other entertainment (and dining).
Sources
George, Mary Helen. “1910-1919 Skyscrapers & Beyond.” Waco Heritage & History 28 (Summer 1999): 45. N.p., n.d. Web. Print.
See all of the images in our Flickr set. GIFs and factoids prepared by Haley Rodriguez, archives student assistant, and Amanda Norman, university archivist.
Friday’s Lariat announced the expectation of a performance on Monday by Marian Anderson. Baylor Lariat, March 24, 1939.
“Armstrong’s Stars” is a collaboration between the Armstrong Browning Library and Baylor’s Texas Collection. Once a month we feature a story about a celebrity who Dr. A.J. Armstrong brought to Baylor. These stories highlight an interesting part of Baylor’s history and include collection materials housed in both the Armstrong Browning Library and the Texas Collection.
This month’s story was contributed by Amanda Mylin, graduate assistant, The Texas Collection.
When renowned African-American singer Marian Anderson was not permitted to sing in the Daughters of the American Revolution’s Constitution Hall in Washington, D. C. in March 1939, the nation reacted (in large part) with astonishment. Anderson is quoted in an article published in the Baylor Lariat saying, “It shocks me beyond words that after having appeared in the capitols of most of the countries of the world, I am not wanted in the capitol of my own country” (“D.A.R. and Americanism,” 2).
Eleanor Roosevelt’s response was the most notable: the First Lady protested the move by resigning from the DAR, and encouraging a concert at an even more prominent venue. Anderson performed a free open-air concert at the Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday, April 9, encouraged and arranged by the First Lady, Anderson’s manager, Walter White of the NAACP, and Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes.
In the midst of this drama, Anderson came to Baylor. Two weeks before her famed Easter concert, Anderson performed at Baylor University’s Waco Hall at the behest of Dr. A. J. Armstrong and Sigma Tau Delta. She was the first African-American soloist to grace the Hall. Her March 27 performance included an array of spirituals and compositions by Handel, Schubert, and Carissimi. The Baylor Lariat for March 3 stated that Sigma Tau Delta had taken the “liberal side of the week’s race question” by selecting Marian Anderson to perform (“Negro Singer Will Follow First Lady,” 4). The same article also noted that Mrs. Roosevelt would speak in Waco Hall on March 13, two weeks before the concert. A nationwide commotion had found its way to Baylor’s campus in a small capacity.
“‘Procrastination is the thief of time’–and good seats!” Tickets sold quickly for Anderson’s upcoming performance, according to this ad in tThe Waco News-Tribune, February 26, 1939. Newspapers.com.
Anderson’s performance was well-received by the Waco audience even though it was primarily formed of a distinct “cross-section of the community’s white citizenship.” The Waco News-Tribune for the next day stated that this turn-out “was pretty much proof that the DAR of Washington, D. C., acted in silly fashion to say the least” (“Marian Anderson is Well Received by Waco Audience”). Furthermore, this article mentioned that Anderson’s well-attended performance was an instance of a slow but steady “solution of a leading American problem.”
Interestingly enough, even Waco Hall remained segregated for Anderson’s concert, with a special portion of the balcony reserved for African-Americans. Eventually, Anderson would insist upon what she called “vertical” seating for her concerts, with available seats throughout the auditorium reserved for African-Americans, and by 1950, she refused to sing for segregated audiences. Yet in the wake of the Constitution Hall incident, Anderson was pleased to perform at Baylor by invitation of Dr. Armstrong.
Dr. Armstrong attempted to bring Anderson back to Waco again in the 1940s, but her schedule was full. Her booking agency offered instead the Don Cossack Chorus, which did come to Waco that February. Anderson, Marian, Records of Visiting Celebrities, Armstrong Browning Library.
Although Anderson was in a hurry and allegedly declined to discuss her recent deterrence by the DAR and the First Lady’s defense of her attempt to perform, she did offer a small informal interview to the Baylor Lariat. She had never been to Waco and commented on the beauty of driving through the Texas countryside from San Antonio. Her enthusiasm and unstoppable energy seemed to bubble over as she explained, “I think America offers vast unlimited opportunities for youthful singers who have the seriousness and determination to become great artists no matter what their race of color” (“Eleanor Roosevelt Versus D.A.R. Feud is Closed; Field Unlimited, Says Anderson,” 1).
By Amanda Norman, University Archivist (with images provided by TC staff)
When I first decided to pursue a career in special collections, I had visions of handling fascinating historical documents and helping researchers find that perfect record that would be the turning point in their research. And I do get to do a lot of that! But, I did not realize the extent to which the job sometimes would involve bugs, bad smells, and other unsavory finds. When people put away files—sometimes in attics and basements that aren’t climate-controlled—moisture/dryness, pests, and other challenges may settle in. And sometimes, they leave a permanent mark.
Today is the last day of Preservation Week, an observation of these sorts of problems and an effort to bring attention to them—for special collections as well as for individuals and organizations with personal libraries and archives. For MayDay, we’ve put together a compilation of distress calls we’ve seen in our work preserving materials—a preservation Hall of Horrors, if you will—and some guidelines for what to do if you encounter such problems in your own records.
These 4×5 negatives are suffering from vinegar syndrome, prompted in this case by being stored in a non-climate-controlled environment. The physical damage in these is quite evident, but you may be able to detect the telltale vinegar odor before the shrinking and channeling really get going. Once film has vinegar syndrome, it can’t be reversed, but the deterioration can be slowed by housing in a better preservation environment. (Generally speaking, that means not too dry, not too humid, and COLD.) This film may be scanned with some degree of success, but the distortion of the original is now part of the image.
These are degrading nitrate negatives. Nitrate is a sensitive thing to keep around–it is highly flammable and requires an excellent preservation environment. The NEDCC has some good guidelines for recognizing and handling such film. Nitrate was used for photos as well as moving image film. Digitization is often a good option for preserving the images.
One wouldn’t think that termites would be found in an old concrete stadium, or that they would decide to hang out in a box of Betacam SP tapes. One would be wrong. Unfortunately, the damage inflicted by these pests’ appetite is irreversible. And once pests are known to have been in materials, taking those materials into an archives is a great risk—even if the bugs are dead, you don’t know if they might have laid eggs (which can resist efforts to kill them). And we certainly don’t want to invite the bugs into our space, where they could infest other materials. Prevention is the ideal solution—but if you’re already past that point, check out the NEDCC’s guidelines for integrated pest management.
This doesn’t look so bad, right? Well, those little blobs you see on the edges of the pages…those are rodent droppings. Ick. Again, if you can keep the pests away, that would be the ideal. Failing that, you can pretty safely assume that if mice/rats have been here, insects probably were too. So follow the NEDCC instructions above, and then you’ll want to don some protective gear and use a stiff-bristled brush to get the droppings off the records.
We’re not even sure what all is going on with this 16-mm film reel container. Rust, looks like some mold, too—definitely a health hazard. Fortunately, the contents of a container are sometimes unmarred, so you can carefully rehouse the film and discard the hazmat situation.
If you’ve done special collections research, you know that food and drink aren’t allowed. The above sample is an excellent illustration of why we have this rule. That was a cough drop—presumably partially used by the original owner of the records, and somehow, dropped into a file. The cough drop then fossilized its way into the records. Our archivists judiciously used heat (via a blowdryer) and a microspatula to loosen the adhesive properties of the cough drop so it could be removed from the papers. But really? Try not to lose your hard candy or cough drops into your records.
We see all sorts of fasteners in the archives, many of which have to be removed because they have became rusty and are eating through papers. Rusty paper clips and staples are enough of a challenge—but the old practice of using straight pins to hold papers together is a particularly pokey problem for our staff. Let’s just say we have added motivation to keep our tetanus shots up to date. To prevent rusty staples and such, try to use coated paper clips and stainless steel staples.
Our print collections staff see many efforts to repair books, some more effective than others. Usually people use adhesives (glue, tape), maybe even try to sew a binding back together. In this case, someone thought they’d try a hammer and nails. As our library preservation specialist’s note says, this was not a success. The primary tenet of conservation is to make sure your repair is reversible. Often, a custom-made book enclosure is the best bet for keeping together the pieces of a book like this one.
These items are just a small samplings of the curiosities that can be encountered in old books, papers, and AV materials. We didn’t even get to digital media, which present a whole other set of preservation challenges. Despite the occasional grossness, it is our pleasure to work to preserve and make available our cultural heritage.
Here are a few websites with guidelines for taking care of your own materials:
“Armstrong’s Stars” is a collaboration between the Armstrong Browning Library and Baylor’s Texas Collection. Once a month we feature a story about a celebrity who Dr. A.J. Armstrong brought to Baylor. These stories highlight an interesting part of Baylor’s history and include collection materials housed in both the Armstrong Browning Library and the Texas Collection.
This month’s story was contributed by Geoff Hunt, Audio and Visual Curator, The Texas Collection.
Katharine Cornell and A.J. Armstrong enjoy a moment of laughter on the dedication day of Armstrong Browning Library, Baylor University, on December 3, 1951. Cornell was the main speaker at the event, along with Baylor President W.R. White. Jimmie Willis photographic collection, 4×5 photo negative 1038.
While A.J. Armstrong’s stars included celebrities with little to no connection to the Brownings—his primary area of interest—some had very deep affiliations with the poets. In fact, a few of the stars played them!
Katharine Cornell visited Baylor twice, both times in relation to her role as Elizabeth Barrett Browning in Rudolf Besier’s play, “The Barretts of Wimpole Street.” The part became her signature role, one she started playing in 1931. According to her 1974 New York Times obituary, “The Barretts’” ran for a year on Broadway, and then Miss Cornell shepherded her company on a 20,853-mile tour of the United States, a daring venture in the Depression…” Cornell was “actress-manager” for this performance, and her husband, Guthrie McClintic, was director.
Of course, Armstrong could not miss an opportunity to have this production come to Baylor, and the tour made a stop in Waco in 1934. In her obituary, Cornell is quoted saying, “‘The Barretts’ never played to an empty house—the receipts would be something like $33,000…so we came back having more than broken even. We really felt prideful.” Additionally, Cornell, along with Brian Aherne (playing Robert Browning), performed this production for servicemen and women during World War II in USO Camp Shows.
It was thus fitting that when Armstrong’s efforts came to fruition at the dedication of the Armstrong Browning Library on December 2 and 3, 1951, Cornell would be a part of the festivities. The library was a $2 million facility and called “a shrine to the poet, Robert Browning.” Armstrong stated it is “not far below the Taj Mahal in beauty.” For such a special occasion, the dedication called for a grand ceremony.
Left to right: Baylor President William Richardson White, Andrew Joseph Armstrong, Katharine Cornell, Marrs McLean, former Baylor president and Texas governor Pat M. Neff. This photograph was taken on the dedication day of Armstrong Browning Library, Baylor University, on December 3, 1951. Jimmie Willis photographic collection photo negative 1045.
Well-known in the world of Browning enthusiasts, and those of the stage and Broadway, Katharine Cornell was the main speaker for the event. Waco Hall was the venue for Cornell’s appearance in what A.J. Armstrong called the “the cultural and literary dedication program” for the new Armstrong Browning Library. Although Basil Rathbone played Robert Browning in the 1934 touring production, Brian Aherne was the original Robert, “brought from his native England by Miss Cornell,” and he came with Cornell to the dedication.
On the day of the event, Cornell and Aherne received an honorary Doctor of Laws during a dedication convocation, along with D.K. Martin, Marrs McLean, A.J. Armstrong, and Herbert Dunnico. Robert Roussel of the Houston Post, upon witnessing a portion of the dedication, commented: “It was indeed an inspirational day… All the humane arts were represented, and the theatre was as handsomely served as it could have been with Katharine Cornell and Brian Aherne as its messengers.”
Katharine Cornell portrait by the artist Alexander Clayton. The painting depicts the actress in the role of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The item was unveiled at Waco Hall on February 9, 1956, and hangs in the Austin Moore-Elizabeth Barrett Browning Salon, Armstrong Browning Library, Baylor University. Photo by Geoff Hunt.
Roussell uses the term “messengers,” and Katharine Cornell rightly served the part as one for the Browning’s legacy. That legacy lives on in the portrait that adorns the wall of the Armstrong Browning’s Austin Moore-Elizabeth Barrett Browning Salon, as well as her other donations such as the shadow box depicting a scene from the “Barretts” stage production. Further, her impact far beyond Baylor as “messenger” for Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning in her role in the “Barretts” made many audiences more familiar with their poetic works while entertaining and bringing joy to many along the way.
Sources:
“Baylor Opens World Shrine to Poets…,” Waco Tribune-Herald (Waco, TX.), Dec. 2, 1951.
“Broadway Stars To Be Here For Browning Dedication,” Waco Tribune-Herald (Waco, TX.), Nov. 4, 1951.
Campbell, Reba. “Waco Dedicates Its Taj Mahal,” Waco Tribune-Herald (Waco, TX.), Dec. 4, 1951.
“Death Claims Dr. ‘A’,” Baylor-Line, v.16 (March-April, 1954): p. 5.
Roussel, Hubert. “Some Out-of-Town Drama With Cornell In a Leading Role,” The Houston-Post (Houston, TX), Dec. 9, 1951.
Texas has changed quite a bit over the years, as is readily seen in our vast photograph and postcard collections. To help bring some of those changes to life, we’ve created a “Texas over Time” series of GIFs that will illustrate the construction and renovations of buildings, changing aerial views, and more. Our collections are especially strong on Waco and Baylor images, but look for some views beyond the Heart of Texas, too.
Local businessman, philanthropist, and Baylor alum Isaac A. Goldstein helped persuade Andrew Carnegie to contribute $30,000 in grants to construct Waco’s Carnegie library. It opened November 28, 1904 and was located at 12th and Austin.
The total cost of the building was $44,688, and the library opened with 3,279 volumes. The first book to be checked out was Emma by Jane Austen.
Working alongside Willie Durham House, the first female head of schools in Waco, Goldstein knew the library would be of great service to the city and extolled the Carnegie Library as a “classical temple” where men and women could be brought “closer together for the highest and best purposes of pure and enlightened citizenship.”
The library outgrew the space by the early 1940s and moved to the Cameron House. The library continued to grow, the Cameron House’s structure began to fail, and the Eighteenth Street and Austin Avenue location of today’s Central library branch opened in the early 1960s.
Sources
Darden, Bob. An Austin Avenue Legacy: 100 Years with the Waco-McLennan County Library. Waco, TX: Waco-McLennan County Library Margin of Excellence Trust Fund, 1997. Print.
Sawyer, Amanda. “Waco Public Library,” Waco History, accessed February 13, 2015, http://wacohistory.org/items/show/29.
See all of these images on Flickr. GIF and factoids by Haley Rodriguez, student archives assistant.
By Amanda Gesiorski, Texas Collection graduate assistant and museum studies graduate student
Letter from Onnie E. Clem, Jr. to his fiancée, Julie, during his time at home in Dallas, Texas, circa 1944-1945. Onnie E. Clem, Jr. papers, #3939, Box 1, Folder 2.
As impressive as the recent movie Unbroken may be, a better story about a WWII prisoner of war can be found within the Onnie E. Clem, Jr. papers. Not only do we learn about Onnie’s harrowing experience overseas, but we also get a firsthand account of his passionate love affair with his future wife, Julie.
Onnie E. Clem, Jr. was born in Dallas, Texas, and joined the United States Marine Corps in 1938 to see the world. He became a radio operator and was stationed in Peking, China, at the US Embassy. When the United States entered World War II, Onnie took part in the battles of the Bataan and was part of the Bataan Death March. Onnie survived the march only to become a POW at Camp O’ Donnell and Cabanatuan for two and a half years.
On August 19, 1944, Onnie was put into the hull of a Japanese “hell ship” with 750 other American prisoners. Nineteen days later, the ship was hit by an American torpedo. As the ship was sinking, the Japanese tossed a grenade into the hull and shot Americans as they tried to escape. Although injured from the torpedo and shot by the Japanese, Onnie managed to escape and swim three miles to shore, where he was rescued by Filipino guerilla fighters. Onnie was one of only 83 known survivors of this incident. By September 1944, Onnie was on his way back home. A transcribed interview with Onnie from 1972 reveals this harrowing experience.
Onnie’s story does not end there, though. Things heat up when Onnie arrives in San Diego, California, where he meets Staff Sergeant “Julie” Cecile Lorraine Julian, who was a member of the United States Marine Corps Women’s Reserve (USMCWR). She served as secretary to the general in charge of public relations along the west coast in San Diego and later at the office in San Francisco.
This photograph shows Staff Sergeant “Julie” Cecile Lorraine Julian wearing her official United States Marine Corps Women’s Reserve uniform, circa 1944-1945. It was enclosed in a letter she sent to her fiancée, Onnie, while he was in Texas. Onnie E. Clem, Jr. papers, #3939, Box 1, Folder 3.
Julie’s office coordinated Onnie’s war bond tour in California. When Onnie walked into her office one day, there was an instant attraction. The couple had a whirlwind romance, and when Onnie returned home to Texas in November 1944, there was a passionate exchange of letters. In these letters, we learn about Julie and Onnie’s relationship as well as their social and work lives. We get a glimpse of Julie’s romantic history with other soldiers, and Onnie’s attempt to re-assimilate into civilian life. We also learn that upon returning home, Onnie is plagued by a constant stream of inquiries from people wanting to know if he has news about their loved ones. Also woven within these letters is the life of Onnie’s fellow escapee, Verks D. Cutter, and Cutter’s wife Janet Elliot, including their secret marriage. While Julie, Janet, Onnie, and Verks are friends at the beginning, as the letters continue we learn about a falling out between them. Onnie and Julie marry on July 13, 1945, and move to Texas, where they work and raise two children.
Onnie joined the Marines to see the world, and in that he succeeded—his papers tell that story. The Onnie E. Clem, Jr. papers read like a novel full of passion and drama, but they also provide a unique historical insight into the daily personal, professional, and social lives of two Marines during WWII.
This image shows the Huaco Club clubhouse a few years after its 1912 construction, as the shrubbery and landscaping look to have flourished. The water tank can be seen in the back right of the photo. Photo was taken not long before the entire facility was destroyed by fire in January 1917. Roy Ellsworth Lane collection, box 2, folder 1.
Built in 1912, the Huaco Club was one of the places to be for Wacoans of the 1910s. From golf and tennis to social events, wealthier Wacoans enjoyed spending time at the country club, located near Sanger Avenue and 29th Street.
However, the club didn’t last long. On January 4, 1917, the Huaco Club lost its clubhouse and surrounding structures to a devastating fire. A three-story building designed by architect Roy Lane, the clubhouse included two dining rooms, a parlor, offices, living rooms, reading room, and ballroom. The club also featured a nine-hole golf course, bowling alley, and tennis courts, on 50 acres. The next morning’s Waco Morning News reported: “Not a stick of the building or its contents was saved.”
This image shows what remained of the Huaco Club the day after the fire. The fire’s intensity is evident–members survey melted steel lockers with hopes of retrieving any spared belongings. The frames of the lockers and the limestone mantel were among the only remaining structures. Photograph by E.C. Blomeyer, President of the Texas Telephone Company, and member of the Huaco Club. E.C. Blomeyer photographic collection, box 2, folder 9.
The club’s president, Dr. J.W. Hale, estimated that the fire’s destruction of the facility amounted to $70,000. In 1917, that was a hefty sum—in today’s money, that would equal nearly $2.3 million! Apart from the clubhouse, estimated at $35,000, and furnishings, the club’s stock of golf equipment for sale, and members’ personal gear were lost as well.
A report published soon after the fire in Safety Engineering, “Recent Fires and Their Lessons,” stated “Cause unknown” for the Huaco Club fire. But fire investigators concluded that losses were aided in part by the club’s late fire alarm system causing a delayed response by firefighters. It was also believed that its construction of easily combustible material enabled structures to become quickly engulfed by the flames.
The Huaco Club was the first golfing facility of its kind in Waco. In a 1915 article in The Waco Morning News, James Hays Quarles attributes Walter V. Fort with bringing golf to Waco in 1896. Fort was inspired by golf courses he saw in Dallas and worked with other prominent local citizens to assemble assets needed to establish a golf club.
A view of one of the many luxurious spaces at the Huaco Club’s clubhouse. This three-story building was once host to many social gatherings. The club not only served as a golf course but also hosted luncheons, dinner parties, dances, weddings, and banquets. Many of these occasions were mentioned in the society columns of Waco newspapers. Roy Ellsworth Lane collection, box 1, folder 16.
The charter for the Huaco Club was organized and signed on May 20, 1910. It called for $40,000 to be raised with 200 members purchasing shares of $200 apiece. The charter stated: “The purpose for which this corporation is formed is to support and maintain a country club for the promotion and encouragement of outdoor life, the games of golf and tennis and other innocent sports and amusements.” In 1913, the shareholder number met its goal. By October 1915, it had 183 stockholders with 63 associate members.
The club was more than just about sports—it was a meeting place for many Wacoans and out of town visitors. Many well-known Waco businessmen and prominent male and female citizens were on its membership rolls. The club frequently hosted luncheons, dinner parties, dances, weddings, and banquets, mentioned in the society columns of Waco newspapers on many occasions.
The remains of the white limestone mantel, a gift from the Huaco clubhouse’s architect, Roy Lane, mostly withstood the inferno. Here, it stands isolated as one of the last noticeable features of a once prominent building. E.C. Blomeyer photographic collection, box 2, folder 9.
Even though the Huaco Club and its contents were insured for approximately $26,000—far less than the $70,000 loss caused by the fire—plans for another golf facility were soon made. Chartered on August 27, 1917, and built circa 1920, the remaining club members opened a new facility, Spring Lake Country Club, at Day’s Lake in what is now Lacy-Lakeview. It included a larger course with 18 holes and an elaborate clubhouse. In a similar fashion as its predecessor, the new club continued to carry on various recreational as well as social functions. Meanwhile, the land the club occupied around 29th and Sanger Avenue was developed into one of Waco’s early “suburbs.”
The early days of golfing in the Waco area did have its setbacks and losses. But the sport that was once referred to as “pasture pool,” played in areas shared with grazing cattle, overcame such setbacks as the Huaco Club fire. Indeed, the love of the game, as well as the way it brings people together, still makes golf and its related activities thrive to this day, in and around Waco.
See more photos of the Huaco Club—before and after—in the Flickr slideshow below.
Images from Waco–Streets–Franklin Avenue photo file
