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.
Opened to the public on January 7, 1870, the 475-foot structure is one of downtown Waco’s iconic landmarks.
At the time of its completion, it was the longest single-span bridge west of the Mississippi.
The cables and steelwork were supplied by John Roebling Co., who also helped build the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City during that decade
As the only bridge over the Brazos River, it brought much publicity to Waco, helped local economic stimulation and served as a public bridge starting in 1889.
During times of high water, the bridge was used greatly for moving cattle herds.
In 1914, it went under total reconstruction including a brand new cable system; the roadway is now supported with steel and the towers were remodeled with stucco.
In July 1970, it became the first Waco site on the National Register of Historic Sites.
Sources
Roger N. Conger, “The Waco Suspension Bridge,” Texana, I (Summer 1963); Minute Books of the Waco Bridge Company (MS., Waco-McLennan County Library).
“The City of Waco.” Suspension Bridge & Riverwalk, Parks & Recreation. City of Waco Municipal Information, n.d. Web. 28 Sept. 2015.
Smyrl, Vivian Elizabeth. “Waco Suspension Bridge.” Texas State Historical Association. TSHA, University of Texas, 15 June 2010. Web. 28 Sept. 2015.
GIF and factoids by Haley Rodriguez, student archives assistant. Learn more about the history of the suspension bridge in our YouTube video and see these images in our Flickr album.
“Why haven’t we developed the Brazos into something like San Antonio’s River Walk?”
“Sure, we have sail-gating, but when are we going to develop this river properly?”
“Why haven’t people realized the value of the Brazos and put some real money into developing it?”
Questions like these resonate along the length of the Brazos but are regularly volleyed around Waco lunch tables. If anything, the revitalization of Waco’s city center and the construction of McLane Stadium have only made these questions more pressing. Many Wacoans simply don’t understand why one of this state’s most iconic rivers has seemingly escaped the reach of developers. They cannot fathom the lack of attention. Coach Art Briles even raised this question over the summer, insisting that the lack of development is “unbelievable” and something that “blows [his] mind.” I understand that sense of shock and awe. When I began my work on the Brazos River nearly a decade ago, I approached it with the exact same question. Why, I asked, has the Brazos avoided the attention of developers? How could any businessman allow that to happen? As I began looking into the river’s history, however, I realized that I was asking the wrong question.
This belief that the Brazos River should be more heavily developed is actually very old. Stephen F. Austin introduced American immigrants into Mexican Texas in 1821, and in the nearly two hundred years since then, developers and boosters and politicians have worked almost unceasingly to improve this powerful and temperamental waterway. Even before Austin’s arrival, however, Spanish settlers and Indian populations manipulated the river, developing it for their own purposes. The Spanish, for example, built irrigation canals and small embankment dams in Texas. No, the conviction that this river should be developed is not new. The end result of development has changed, but the idea of improving this river has not. A better question, then, is this: given the long history of attention to the Brazos, why has it not been developed more fully? Why must men like Art Briles shake their heads in wonder today, mind reeling at the untapped potential of this river? Why must politicians and business leaders and the inestimable public do likewise?
The short answer–and the topic of discussion in my lecture–is that any lack of development is not due to a lack of effort. There has actually been a concentrated, long-standing effort to improve this waterway. The problem is that most of the proposed development projects along the Brazos have been, at best, a temporary success.
Take, for example, the lock and dam project (early 1900s). To expand navigation along the Brazos River, the Army Corps of Engineers proposed a series of eight structures that would use a small-scale dam and a lock to raise water levels in areas plagued by shoals, falls, and bars. This project was applauded energetically, but construction of the locks and dams proved to be problematic, to say the least. In 1912, for example, engineers at the lock and dam near Waco reported that an untimely drought had dried up the river, leaving a scant 8 inches of water in the lock. One year later, employees at the same lock noted that a recent flood had done more than $20,000 worth of damage (the equivalent of $481,000 today).
“Why haven’t we tried to develop the Brazos River?”
As I said, that isn’t the right question.
“Why haven’t we been able to develop the Brazos more fully?”
That question may not have an easy answer, but it does guide us down a productive path of research and discussion.
Eager to hear more about this discussion? Join us in Bennett Auditorium at 3:30 pm on Thursday, October 22, to hear her thoughts on development along the Brazos River. Dr. Archer, an instructor at Angelo State University and Baylor alumna, is promoting her book, Unruly Waters: A Social and Environmental History of the Brazos River. The book will be available for purchase at a reception following at The Texas Collection and at the Baylor Bookstore during Homecoming.
Texas has changed quite a bit over the years, as is readily seen in our vast photograph collection. 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.
Lover’s Leap, Cameron Park, Waco; undated photos and postcards
Lover’s Leap was originally part of land purchased by the Cameron family in 1917 to be donated to Camp MacArthur.
This area of the park was named after the legend of Waco Indian princess Wah-Wah-Tee and her Apache lover, whose love was looked down on by the rest of the Waco tribe. As the story goes, they were determined to be together eternally and jumped off the cliffs together at what is now Lover’s Leap.
The incline of the road to get to Lover’s Leap is so steep that Model Ts had to be driven up it in reverse, as they did not have the correct gear otherwise.
The images above can be found in our general photo and postcard files. See our Cameron Park Flickr set to get a closer look at these images and a few other historic and scenic views of the park.
GIF and factoids by Braxton Ray, archives student assistant
Kenna Lang Archer, a veteran researcher at The Texas Collection, is our guest blogger for this series, “A User’s Guide to The Texas Collection.” Drawing on her research on the Brazos River, Dr. Archer offered advice on identifying resources (including staff) in her first post; in her second, she addressed challenging resources. In this final installment, she offers her tips on determining when the research is DONE.
For the final post in this series, I’d like to address a question that is as challenging as it is important…when is enough, enough? When is it time to step away—trusting that you have read enough letters, seen sufficient photographs, and pored through the right amount of memoirs, and how do you know that you’ve reached that point? It’s entirely possible that I am the last person that should be offering advice on the subject. My friends and colleagues have often chided me for “excessive” research, as have several editors (apparently, one really can cite too many sources in too many footnotes). However, my occasional inability to know that I have gathered the necessary citations means I am actually well placed to offer guidance.
That advice begins with a simple realization: it is possible to spend so much time looking through archival materials that the notes you collect become overwhelming and your work with them, inefficient. A paradox of historical research—people working with primary sources tend to assume that where one source is good, two sources are better, and three sources, best. The problem with this line of thought is two-fold. First, as your notes or copies increase in number, it becomes increasingly difficult to incorporate that information into existing outlines, chapters, etc. After completing my dissertation, I found a stack of Xerox copies more than one foot high that I had never written into my outlines. I missed nothing of import in those copies, but I was fortunate. I could easily have lost valuable information to a crowd of unheeded papers. Second, if you focus exclusively on research, you will never finish the project that prompted that work in the first place. Research alone does not produce finished works. Books, articles, and even blog posts can only be written, edited, and completed by an individual who has found the courage to say, “Yes, this research and my thoughts on it can stand.”
So how do you know when enough is truly enough? Where do you draw the mythical line in the sand? Personally, I use a series of hypothetical scenarios to weigh what I might find in future research against what I know from my current research. Would my ideas still hold if, somewhere, a source existed that said X; if I later found a source that said Y, would I still feel comfortable with my project? If I decide that nothing short of indisputable evidence refuting my argument would cause me doubt, then I leave my research be. If I feel like there is more than one way in which my ideas could be threatened or if I see a glaring omission, then I continue to research until I feel comfortable in my analysis.
Along those lines, I would recommend that anybody making extensive use of primary sources develop an effective organization system for their research. Each researcher must find the method that best fits their timeline and needs, but based on my experiences, I would make the following suggestions for people engaged in archival research:
Copying/photographing every source you find is as risky and ineffective as copying no sources at all: to be buried by too much material is a cruel fate.
Trying to track down a citation after the fact is maddening and a waste of precious time: write down every citation legibly and in the same place as the note itself as you go along.
When making copies, do not assume either that the archivists will write down the citation for you or that they will include everything you need for reference: be responsible for assuring the validity and the location of your sources.
Trusting too much in technology will eventually lead to a headache: be prepared to take notes the old fashioned way and keep a list of the sources that you have duplicated (as well as their location).
I made a number of “rookie mistakes” when I began working in the archives; I can even admit that I fell into the same blunders several times. Fortunately for my self-worth (and unfortunately for the rest of the research community), I am not alone in my struggles. I would guess that every researcher has, at one time or another, struggled with the effectiveness of his/her research methods or the decision to walk away from new sources. It’s a learning process, and one that everybody must endure. However, it can be made easier. My hope for anybody reading this series is that his or her experience in primary source research might be a smidge less chaotic, a bit more constructive, as a result of my suggestions.
Onward, archival soldiers…and until next time, good luck!
Missed the first installments? Check them out here.
Archer is an instructor in the history department at Angelo State University. She earned her bachelor’s and master’s degrees at Baylor and then her doctorate at Texas Tech University. You can learn more about her research on her website, www. kennalangarcher.com.
Kenna Lang Archer, a veteran researcher at The Texas Collection, is our guest blogger for this series, “A User’s Guide to The Texas Collection.” Drawing on her research on the Brazos River, Dr. Archer offered advice on identifying helpful (but not obvious) resources and making use of special collections staffers in her last post. In this installment, she discusses some of the perils of primary resource research: sources that contradict your thesis and the challenges of assessing authenticity in materials.
Unfortunately, archival research does not always yield information that one might call “helpful.” To research in archives is to invite uncertainty into your academic life. Yes, I have located sources that pulled everything together, but I have also found sources that contradicted all I expected to find. What is the proper response to a source that seemingly undermines your work? There is no one answer, but my advice would be to remember that there is promise in confusion.
Roughly halfway through my dissertation research, I found a source that seemed to weaken my argument in a serious way. It was nothing short of an intellectual catastrophe. I erupted in genuine (if, thankfully, short-lived) tears and stopped work early that day. That evening, I wrote up a brief outline for my project and began to ask difficult questions about the new material—what did it really say, how might it broaden my study, did it undercut the entirety of my thesis or portions of it, could I simply fine-tune my ideas? It took me awhile to incorporate these answers into my outline and then to adjust my writing, but as I struggled through the muddle that once was my project, it became easier to envision the ways in which new ideas could fit together. The end result: a stronger project!
Unfortunately, there have also been times when I couldn’t work out the contradictions that resulted from new information—I’ve discarded projects and entirely reworked projects. Whatever the ultimate outcome, “defiant” sources are beneficial—they help to refine research projects into something both more intriguing and authentic.
That being said, whether or not sources prove to be helpful, researchers must take the time to assess their authenticity. Letters, books, pamphlets—they’ve all been written by individuals with preconceptions and opinions. Photographs and paintings can be staged or emotionally skewed as well. In other words, every source is created in a context that shapes its meaning and its value.
Was a tract written to attract visitors to Texas? It probably emphasized the good and downplayed the bad about life in this state. Was a letter written in 1917? Ongoing war in Europe surely colored the text, and the contextual biases might have shifted from one month to the next.
It is imperative that researchers understand these nuances. So how do you account for the possibility of hyperbole, the use of incorrect figures, the fever of patriotism? When working with a primary source, I try to anticipate what biases might exist by considering the who, what, where, when, and why of its creation. For example, I might ask where this information originated and whether it was corroborated only by people from the same family or city. If possible, I also account for subjectivity by increasing the number of sources that I review and, thereby, increasing the validity of statistics, stories, and so forth.
Whether you have one crucial source or twenty adequate sources, take the time to judge the authenticity of your information…and, most difficult of all, have the courage to set aside a source, however valuable, whose information cannot be trusted. It is far more important to work in confidence knowing that you have prioritized accuracy than to squeeze a questionable source into an existing argument.
Stay tuned for the September entry (and final post) in this series.
Archer is an instructor in the history department at Angelo State University. She earned her bachelor’s and master’s degrees at Baylor and then her doctorate at Texas Tech University. You can learn more about her research on her website, www. kennalangarcher.com.
Kenna Lang Archer recently presented a lecture hosted by The Texas Collection, “The Brazos River and the Baylor Archives: A History of Floods and Droughts, a Story of Resilience and Ideals.” Archer has been coming to The Texas Collection for many years to research the Brazos River and its environmental impact—she even earned one of our Wardlaw Fellowships for Texas Studies.
So we thought she would be a perfect candidate to share some of what she has learned about special collections research. Archer has a heart for educational outreach and far too much to say to fit into one blog post, so this is the first installment in a three-part series, “A User’s Guide to The Texas Collection.”
I recently completed a study on the Brazos River, and while I loved the topic, it wasn’t always easy to find sources for my research. People living in Waco in 1856 rarely sat down with the explicit goal of writing about water—“Dear Robert. Old Man River is especially murky today…I can think of nothing but mud pies as I stare into its depths (which total 15 feet, 100 yards north of Waco).” Ditto with individuals living in other cities at other periods. Instead, people wrote about matters of immediate importance—crops, kin, wars, etc.
This intellectual inertia is hardly unique to me. Most researchers, at one time or another, have encountered a similar problem. The obvious search words are sometimes not enough, and in those moments, it becomes necessary to follow alternative pathways. Fortunately, in that disorder is potential. I once used the record books of the Waco Bridge Company to determine the supplies used in the Waco Suspension Bridge, which incorporated trees that had been logged locally. These financial records, in other words, told me about the species that populated Cameron Park in the late 1800s, a park that itself sits along the Brazos.
Sometimes, the sources simply are not there, but oftentimes, information can be gleaned from the space between ideas. Search Brazos River but also search intellectually adjacent words—agriculture, Cameron Park, cattle. The use of non-traditional sources and peripheral search terms can be time-consuming, but it results in a richer understanding of the subject, making the intellectual effort more than worthwhile.
Along those same lines, if I could offer one piece of advice to individuals engaged in research, it would be this—get to know the employees of the archives/library.
A good relationship with archivists, curators, librarians, and coordinators is the surest path to a completed project. Likewise, a bad relationship with these same individuals (or no relationship at all) is a sure way to become mired in more material than you could ever process. That is the dirty secret of historic research—it is impossible to track every lead, tumble down every rabbit hole, follow every hunch. A bittersweet blessing: scholars, with few exceptions, have access to far too many letters, diaries, and photographs to peruse every line of thought. And, yet, projects can hinge on a single piece of evidence. What is an industrious scholar to do? Engage the experts.
Special collections employees can recommend finding aids, suggest search words, pull off-site material, or even let you know when collections are unavailable due to routine maintenance. Over the last five years, the employees of the Texas Collection made my project possible in a very literal sense. Amie Oliver suggested nineteenth century promotional booklets that did not mention the Brazos but nevertheless provided insight into the movement of immigrants; Geoff Hunt tracked down a panoramic photograph of industrializing Waco that unveiled flood patterns; Tiffany Sowell pulled manuscripts from the turn of the century that exposed urban growth patterns. Archival resources are not limited to pen and ink; get to know the men and women who work in the stacks.
See our staff listing to learn who those folks in the stacks are at The Texas Collection! And stay tuned for the August entry in this series.
Archer is an instructor in the history department at Angelo State University. She earned her bachelor’s and master’s degrees at Baylor and then her doctorate at Texas Tech University. You can learn more about her research on her website, www. kennalangarcher.com.
Watch our YouTube video below to learn more about Dr. Archer’s research
at The Texas Collection and how the Wardlaw Fellowship Fund for Texas Studies
helped support her dissertation work.