Architecture/Significant Bldgs. | Flashback : Dallas

St. Mary’s College, founded in 1889 in East Dallas (at Ross and Garrett avenues), was a prestigious school for girls, affiliated with the Episcopal Church. It had a statewide reputation, and many girls attended as boarding students — Lady Bird Johnson was a proud alumna. Around 1930 it became home to a relocated Terrill School for Boys.

The once sprawling “College Hill” campus covered 20 acres (see it on a 1922 Sanborn map here). I can find no news reports of its demolition, but one source says 1948. Read more about the school’s history in the Handbook of Texas entry here. and see other photos and a short history in the Flashback Dallas post “Private Education in Dallas — 1916.”

The site of the former school has recently been filled with apartments. The old chapel tower still stands, but the large, open school campus is long gone. See the most recent Google Street View of St. Matthew’s Cathedral here. — the main school building would have been directly to the right.

As far as the photo at the top of this post, I really love this image of smiling girl athletes (the basketball team?) posing in their gym togs in front of the school.

“Juxta Dallas Texas” (“near Dallas Texas”).

The ad below touts the school’s offerings in 1911 (including a school dairy):

ST. MARY’S COLLEGE AND SCHOOL OF MUSIC

Founded by the Right Rev. A. C. Garrett [Alexander Garrett], D.D., LL. D.
Twenty-third Year Opens Sept. 13, 1911

A College for Christian education of women — college, scientific and literary courses. Bishop A. C. Garrett, instructor in mental science and logic. Advanced classes in charge of graduates of universities of recognized standing. European instructors of modern languages. School of Music under direction of instructors trained in Germany, Paris, France and New England Conservatory of Music. Pianoforte pupils examined annually. Art and China Painting taught according to the best methods. Health, diet and physical culture in charge of two trained nurses and teachers of physical culture.

The group of buildings comprise:
1. St. Mary’s Hall (stone).
2. Graff Hall, which is devoted to the Schools of Music and Art.
3. Hartshorne Memorial Recitation Hall.
4. The Mary Adams Bulkley Memorial Dormitory.
5. Sarah Nielson Memorial for the care of the sick.

Houses heated by steam and lighted by electricity. A very attractive College Chapel and large Gymnasium built last year. A very attractive home. Artesian well. Milk supplied from college dairy. Homemade bread and sweetmeats. Night watchman. School opens Sept. 13. For catalogue address:

Bishop Garrett, President St. Mary’s College, Dallas, Texas

Laying the cornerstone for the chapel, Dallas Morning News, Sept. 29, 1907

Below, the chapel tower can be seen at the left. It still stands, as part of St. Matthew’s Cathedral (5100 Ross Avenue).

As seen from a distance — on the right, from Collett and Junius (more info on this photo from the Flashback Dallas post it originally appeared in, “Munger Place, The Early Days: 1905-1909”):

St. Mary’s appeared in an ad for a street-paving company in 1916 (from the original post here):

street-construction_vibrolithic-pavement_SFOT-booklet_1916_SMU_st-marys

Dallas Historical Society

***

Sources & Notes

Top photo by Frank Rogers, taken some time after 1911. Found on eBay. Originally used in a Patreon post, “The Girls of St. Mary’s.”

Last photo from the Dallas Historical Society, found in the book Dallas Rediscovered by William L. McDonald.

Unless otherwise noted, most other images/postcards found on eBay.

Please consider supporting me on Patreon, where for as little as $5 a month, you can get daily Flashback Dallas posts! (You can follow for free, but only a small handful of posts are “public.”)

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3 Comments

February 12, 2024

The Higginbotham-Pearlstone Building

Higginbotham-Pearlstone Building, 1978

by Paula Bosse

In a previous post, “The South End ‘Reservation’ Red-Light District — ca. 1907” (which, amazingly, has generated so much traffic, that, in one month, it has gotten almost 4 times as many views as the most popular post of last year got all YEAR…), I mentioned that the reason I stumbled across the main photo from that post was because I was searching for a photo of the Hobson Electric Co. in the West End (the photo was originally described as showing the West End, but it actually showed the other side of downtown). So why was I looking for something which, let’s be honest, doesn’t sound all that exciting? The Hobson Electric Co.? Because an anonymous reader asked recently in comments of a post from 2019 — “Caterpillars On the Job at Ross and Market — 1922” — what businesses had been in the building at 1701 N. Market in the West End, known as the Higginbotham-Pearlstone Building. And here, anonymous question-asker, is what I found.

But before any building at all was there, what was there? (See the “Sources & Notes” section at the bottom of the page to see this location on six Sanborn maps from 1885 to 1921.) Before any building sat on the northwest corner of N. Market and Ross Avenue (originally Carondelet), it was a wagon yard/camp yard — a place where people coming to the city could stable their horses and stay the night. As seen on the 1899 Sanborn map, it was near the MKT freight and passenger depots. By 1905, that block was the site of a lumber yard.

In 1910, the Hobson Electric Co. (“for everything pertaining to electric light and telephone plants, largest supply house in the Southwest”) opened their new building at the northwest corner of Market and Ross (they were formerly in what is now the 700 block of Commerce). The new building was described thusly:

The above new building of the Hobson Electric Company, located near Market street and Ross avenue, Dallas, is an example of modern construction which secures a low insurance rate. The front is 100 feet, depth 200 feet. There are three stories with a total floor space of 60,000 square feet. The foundation is of concrete, the walls of light colored brick 18 inches thick; the interior is of mill construction of unusually heavy and special type, the floorboards being five inches in thickness. The general construction is of the best available at this date. The building is heated by the hot water system, electrically lighted and equipped with the automatic sprinkler system for fire protection. (Dallas Morning News, April 16, 1910)

1911 city directory

In January 1913, Charles W. Hobson changed the name of his company to the Southwest General Electric Co., (Hobson was the Southwest manager of General Electric/G.E.), as can be seen in this photo of the building from 1922:

Detail of a 1922 ad for Caterpillar tractors

In October 1923, the Moroney Hardware Co. (est. 1875) moved in. “You will find everything here that a modern, progressive wholesale hardware house should carry. Shipping everywhere in the large Dallas trade territory” (ad, Sept. 23, 1923).

DMN, Oct. 14, 1923

DMN, Nov. 23, 1925

50th anniversary ad detail, Nov. 23, 1925

In February 1926, the Moroney company (having just celebrated its 50th anniversary) announced the sale of the pioneering Dallas business (as well as its building) to R. W. Higginbotham and Hyman Pearlstone — the new wholesale company would be called the Higginbotham-Pearlstone Hardware Co.

ca. 1954

Higginbotham-Pearlstone lasted until about 1977, when they vacated the building (but their name remained on it). The photo at the top of this post shows the building in 1978, as does the photo below — at that time, it (or part of it) became home to a factory-outlet clothing store. Below, a slightly different view, looking north on Market from Pacific.

1978

It continues to be an important landmark in the Historic West End, and it still looks great — see the building on Google Street View, here.

***

Sources & Notes

The top photo, from 1978, is from the collection of the Texas Historical Commission, via the Portal to Texas History.

The 1954 Higginbotham-Pearlstone photo is from eBay.

The second photo (which I have cropped slightly), from 1978, is also from the Texas Historical Commission — it was taken in March 1978 by Danny Hardy. It is part of a nomination form for “National Register of Historic Places” designation — the whole 90-page application can be viewed as a PDF, here (this photo is on p. 50). There are lots of great photos of West End buildings from 1978 in this!

Other sources as noted.

See Sanborn maps which include this block (northwest corner of N. Market and Carondolet) in 1885, 1888, 1892, 1899, 1905, and — the “modern” block which, finally, is home to our building — in 1921.

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16 Comments

January 23, 2024

The Three Witches of Stemmons Tower

Convening…

by Paula Bosse

I have to admit, I had never heard of “the Stemmons witches” until a few years ago. They seem to have made quite the impression on teenagers of the ’60s and ’70s (and ’80s?), who would frequently take uninitiated fellow teens to visit the mysterious/sinister cloaked figures, after having told them elaborate scary stories about the figures that stood solemnly and forebodingly on the grounds of the 4-building Stemmons Towers complex.

I gather they could be seen from the freeway, and I can understand how they’d look pretty creepy, especially at night, from a distance (and up close). What a perfect teenage ritual for kids with cars: wait until dark, then take your friends to the Towers, pumping them full of spooky urban legends on the drive over, then watch their faces as you introduce them to witches 1-3. If there were night watchmen on overnight duty at Stemmons Towers, they must have had their hands full.

The reminiscences I’ve read all say the three figures disappeared at some point (late ’80s or early ’90s?) — and no one seems to know what happened to them. Do YOU know what happened to them? Where are they today?

The three figures are by artist Pedro Coronel, a Mexican sculptor and painter aligned with Rufino Tamayo — he was influenced by Diego Rivera and worked with Constantine Brancusi. He often used onyx and sandstone (from the photo, it looks like the “witches” were made of a black stone). The name of this work was “Hooded Figures.” From The Dallas Morning News:

These strange figures are permanent sidewalk superintendents at the new Stemmons Tower North, fourth and final building being erected in the complex on Stemmons Freeway. The three stone “Hooded Figures,” by sculptor Pedro Coronel, are among several works on the Towers’ landscaped plaza. (DMN, July 31, 1966)

(“Stemmons witches” has a much better ring to it than “sidewalk superintendents.”)

Read memories of teenage visits to these “witches” on the Dallas Historical Society “Phorum,” here.

Where have these “Figuras Encapuchadas” scurried off to?

***

Sources & Notes

Thank you SO MUCH to Fred Goodwin, who sent me this photo. He says he came across it years ago somewhere on the internet and does not know the original source. Thank you, Fred!

I’ve seen only one other photo of this work by Coronel — it accompanies the caption quoted above, in The Dallas Morning News (July 31, 1966, p. 1C). Sadly, it’s not a good scan.

A story by Steve Brown appeared in the DMN on Dec. 14, 2023, reporting that the four towers are to be converted to a residential community (“Dallas’ Landmark Stemmons Towers Sell for Conversion to Apartments”). Um, okay.

See a cool night-time photo of Stemmons Tower #1 in the 2018 Flashback Dallas post “Stemmons Tower, Downtown Skyline — 1963.”

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15 Comments

December 28, 2023

Some-Context Channel 8 Screenshots: 1971

WFAA Collection/Jones Film Collection/SMU

by Paula Bosse

I have been working as part of a 3-person team (led by Jeremy Spracklen and Scott Martin) on the WFAA archive of news film, housed in the G. William Jones Film and Video Collection at the Hamon Arts Library at SMU. I have been working on 1970 and 1971, going through daily footage shot for Channel 8 News. I get a bit bogged down by all the sports and car crashes, but at this point, I am so all-consumed by these two specific years that I feel I would do well on Jeopardy if the categories were things like “Minor League DFW Hockey Teams of the Early ’70s,” “Internecine Squabbles of the Dallas City Council, the Dallas School Board, and the Dallas County Commissioners Court,” and “So What’s the Deal with the Sharpstown Scandal?” My 2023 has been spent immersed in 1971, where the chaos of the implementation of court-ordered school busing, the huge securities fraud scandal that involved some very powerful Texas politicians (Sharpstown), and the battle between Craig Morton and Roger Staubach to become the Cowboys’ #1 quarterback were some of the stories that dominated the headlines. And, lordy, there were some pretty exotic hairstyles, fashions, and interior design trends hammering away relentlessly throughout this post-hippie (it might really still have been current-hippie), pre-disco period.

Here are a few of my favorite moments from this 1971 DFW-centric news footage from the WFAA archives. Links to the pertinent clips on YouTube are included at the end of the descriptions. These clips are rarely the full reports that would have been seen on the nightly news — they are often just silent footage or B-roll, without any identification of people or clues as to where they were filmed or even why they were newsworthy. It’s (mostly) a lot of fun to dig through and watch the unfolding of history from more than 50 years in the future.

Above, from JUNE 1971

One of my favorite human-interest stories from the past year (meaning 1971!) was the profile of one of the few “lady mailmen” in Dallas at the time. She’s utterly, utterly charming, has a supportive and interesting husband and family, and loves her job. The Channel 8 cameraman shows her as she sorts her mail in the Beverly Hills Station post office in Oak Cliff and follows her as she walks along her route on West Davis. The only problem with this 7 minutes of interesting footage is that the woman is never identified. I dove in, really wanting to identify her. I thought I had cracked the mystery of her identity, only to find myself at a dead end again. If only her children could see this wonderful profile of their mother. If you know who this woman is, please let me know, and we’ll add her name to the YouTube description and try to track down any family members. I would LOVE her children to be able to see this.

The “lady mailman” is interviewed here (this first bit is in three short segments, totaling 4 minutes); a later clip shows her on her route, here (about 3 minutes). The old post office building still stands at 509 N. Barnett.

JANUARY 1971

So, yeah, fashion and interior design trends were pretty… in-your-face in 1971. In the three screenshots below, you’ll see some retina-abusing images of with-it decor. The first features the always beautiful Phyllis George, the Denton native who was in the midst of her Miss America reign. In this clip, she has come back home to DFW for an appearance at an event in which a room designed with her in mind is unveiled (by decorators C. John Megna and William Farrington). She is wearing a dress designed by Carlo Bitetto specifically for her to wear IN THAT ROOM (!). You don’t often see sparkles and plaid cheek-by-jowl.

The clip with the super-color-saturated room and its battling patterns is here.

FEBRUARY 25, 1971

Before Lion Country Safari, Mesquite had World of Animals, a drive-thru safari park. World of Animals had a wild-animal veterinarian who visited regularly from California: Dr. Martin Dinnes. Below, Dinnes is seen providing dental care to popular attraction Harold the Chimp. This is not really something I expected to see, but there you are. (Dinnes was later engaged to actress and wildlife preservation activist Tippi Hedren for several years.)

The clips of Dinnes being interviewed and preparing Harold for a tooth extraction (and I grimaced a bit, because the camera keeps rolling during the procedure, so be warned!) are here and here. (The last clip has a shot of Harold’s hand, which, understandably, appears to be gripping the chair.) That is one well-behaved, chill chimp!

MAY 18, 1971

In 1971, there was an ongoing battle between old quarterback Craig Morton and NKOTB Roger Staubach over who would be named the team’s official starting QB. Coach Tom Landry worked for months with a two-quarterback system, alternating them from game to game — he was fine with this, but everyone else hated it. Below are screenshots of Morton and Staubach at the Cowboys practice field. I know virtually nothing about sports training, but this, um, extremely low-tech gadget struck me as weird. And funny. I mean, okay, it was 1971, but surely there was something more technologically advanced than this? It’s a football on a string, tied to a post. And maybe there’s a spring or something in there. This must have been effective. Rog looks like he’s straining. I don’t know. But I love it.

See Craig in an interview with Verne Lundquist from May 18, 1971 about his elbow and shoulder injuries here, and then using the football-on-a-string thing (and then training with Staubach) here; and see Roger interviewed on the same day about really, really wanting to be the starting QB here, and then he hits the string thing here before working out with Morton in what must have been a fairly tense period of both of their careers.

JUNE 1971

Medical examiners used to be on the news a lot. One who popped up frequently was Tarrant County M.E. Dr. Feliks Gwozdz. I was amused more than I should have been when I saw the skull-and-crossbones coffee mug on his desk. I hope it said “World’s Greatest Coroner!” on the back.

The silent footage of Dr. Gwozdz at his desk is here.

JULY 14, 1971

Back in 1971 there was what seemed like the threat of a union strike every 10 minutes. I enjoyed the footage of a bunch of Southwestern Bell employees who look like they were probably a lot of fun to hang out with. Their t-shirts read “Ma Bell Is a Cheap Mother,” which is just great.

Strike footage is here (about 2½ minutes) and here.

JULY 1971

One of the top stories of 1971 was the endless furor set off by court-mandated school busing in attempts to desegregate schools. It was a mess. The man seen below is attorney Bill Brice, a leader of one of the many anti-busing groups. …Surely the cameraman noticed the monkey.

Man with monkey can be seen here.

AUGUST 29, 1971

When the Dallas School Board and Supt. Nolan Estes weren’t pulling their hair out over desegregation, they tackled other issues. One of which was so overshadowed by anti-busing demonstrations that it barely got any play, but I find it really interesting. It concerned Crozier Tech High School downtown. At the end of the 1970-71 school year, the landmark school was closed, and there was lots of discussion on what the DISD should do with the building/land, which they owned (2218 Bryan). This press conference was supposed to be about Estes’ vision of a 40-story school-office complex, which he suggested be built on the land — the first 10 floors would be for school use, and the top 30 floors would be leased to businesses as office space, with leases, theoretically, paying for construction and maintenance of the building. The building was never built (and thankfully, old Tech still stands). School board president John Plath Green and Supt. Estes sit in front of an architectural drawing of the envisioned DISD skyscraper. Too bad no one wanted to talk about it.

Footage from the press conference where reporters only want to ask about busing, is here.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1971

The Sharpstown Scandal was a bigger story than busing, but, even though political scandals are juicy, it just didn’t get everyday people mobilizing, marching in the streets, and shouting each other down in public forums the way busing did. But it was a massive story, and several political careers bit the dust because of it. The sprawling and confusing securities-fraud scandal mostly involved drab politicians and business executives. But one part of it involved, bizarrely, six celebrated — if not beloved — NASA astronauts and an insurance company pension fund.

In this Channel 8 footage, you can see something you don’t see every day: five NASA astronauts walking together down the street (a sixth one was nearby, on his own). James Lovell, Pete Conrad, Fred Haise, Ken Mattingly, Richard Gordon, and Alan Bean were in Dallas on Sept. 23, 1971 to testify as witnesses before a federal grand jury that was investigating the activities surrounding the Sharpstown Scandal. These are screenshots of the five (minus Lovell), carrying briefcases through grubby downtown Dallas, and of Lovell on his own, exiting the Federal Court House. When I first watched this footage, it just seemed really odd: five internationally (galactically!) famous astronauts — heroes! — walking together down the street, without any kind of security or entourage. If you were a NASA freak (and there were a lot back then, at the height of the Apollo-Gemini programs) and you just happened to have walked past this group, your head would have exploded.

See Lovell exiting the sterile- and dystopian-looking courthouse on his own (that woman he holds the door open for has no idea who he is), and the others walking somewhat playfully down the street here (I love this footage!); a confusing wrap-up of the day’s events is here.

OCTOBER 14, 1971

In footage from the State Fair of Texas, I was really taken by this building, which I swore I had never seen. It was the home of the “lost children” center during the fair, in the Dallas police HQ in Fair Park. It looks different to me now, but it’s still there, near the Aquarium. It looked better in 1971!

Lots of footage of crying children and harried parents, here and here.

OCTOBER 1971

This young dandy is named John Ott (I’m not 100% sure about the spelling). He was a real estate developer in Euless. He couldn’t have been more on top of the 1971 fashion wave. Represent, Euless!

It’s a story about replanting trees (with, admittedly, interesting footage of trees being uprooted and replanted). Here and here.

OCTOBER 31, 1971

In the screenshots below, Channel 8 reporter Judi Hanna (who had recently debuted an unfortunate hairdo) interviews Dallas City Councilman Garry Weber about City Council things. I don’t know where this was filmed, but I only hope it wasn’t his home. It’s hard to focus on what anyone is saying, because of the tidal wave of stuff coming at you. (Ironically, he was being interviewed about sponsoring a change to the city charter in order to crack down on the “visual pollution” of unenforced sign ordinances.) I was so overwhelmed by this vista, that I somehow assumed I was seeing cupid-studded wallpaper. But no. Check out the second screenshot, which also includes a peek at the room’s drapes. I can’t tell where the wallpaper ends and the drapes begin.

Appropriately shown on Halloween night, clips from this report are here (followed by footage of signs-galore along Lemmon Avenue) and here.

OCTOBER 1971

Lastly, a shot of Mingus, Texas, a small West Texas town near Thurber. I just love this image. I think I found the location — here’s what it looks like now.

Why was the tiny town of MIngus being featured on a Dallas news report? The Greater Mingus-Thurber Metropolitan Area was in the news because it was the location of a commune of the controversial Children of God (i.e. “cult”). Actually, the “Children” were in the process of being evicted by the landowner, who, interestingly, was a TV preacher in Los Angeles (I guess even TV evangelists have a breaking point). Members of this group splintered, and a few moved to Big D for a while, where they continued to be newsworthy until they moved elsewhere.

The shot of Mingus is from one of the many clips contained in this Oct. 7 package, here (it is specifically at the 1:08 mark). Below that is a shot from a week later, after some of the self-described “Jesus Freaks” had landed in Dallas — a group member is seen walking through Exposition Park to their new HQ, at 639½ Exposition — it and other CoG footage from Oct. 14, 1971 is here (this specific shot is seen at the 17:18 mark). (If you are considering a documentary on the Children of God, there’s lots of footage for you in the WFAA archives at SMU.)

AUGUST 1971

This is a bonus.

As I worked my way through 1971, there was one truly amazing story. It involved the kidnapping of a toddler in Fort Worth. On Aug. 25, 1971, 21-month-old Melissa Suzanne Highsmith disappeared. Her 22-year-old mother, Alta, had hired a new babysitter, who was supposed to watch her for the day while Alta was at work. The babysitter picked Melissa up in the morning as planned, but she never returned the child. The babysitter and Melissa disappeared without a trace. There were no leads in the case for years. …And YEARS.

In 2022, the Highsmith family learned of an online DNA match, which would indicate they had found Melissa. Eventually, it was determined that a 50-something-year-old woman named “Melanie” was actually the long-missing Melissa. The woman who kidnapped her raised her as her own daughter, and Melissa never suspected she wasn’t the woman’s child (although she says she never felt really “connected” to her).

Melissa (she now uses “Melissa” again) was reunited with her family at the end of 2022. One report I read said that she grew up only 10 minutes from the Fort Worth apartment her mother lived in. Despite the Highsmith family’s 51 years of loss, grief, worry, and suffering, there has ultimately been a happy ending!

In the screenshot below from an Aug. 26, 1971 Channel 8 story, Alta Highsmith shows a photo of her missing daughter to the camera. The report is here.

If you managed to get all the way through this, you deserve an award! This might be the longest thing I’ve written all year! I’m more than ready for my 1971 Jeopardy challenge (Dallas edition)!

***

Sources & Notes

All screenshots are from news film in the WFAA Collection, held by the G. William Jones Film & Video Collection, Hamon Arts Library, SMU. Clips are posted regularly from this Channel 8 collection on YouTube, here.

My previous collection of WFAA screenshots can be found in the post “No-Context Channel 8 Screenshots: 1970-1971.”

lady mailman june 1971 WFAA_sm

8 Comments

December 24, 2023

Season’s Greetings from Dallas’ Most Stylish Banks

by Paula Bosse

Wishing you the happiest of holiday wishes!

–Paula

***

Sources & Notes

Both ads are from Dallas magazine, a publication of the Dallas Chamber of Commerce; the Mercantile National Bank ad appeared in the December 1956 issue, and the Republic National Bank of Dallas ad appeared in the December 1955 issue.

Many, many more Christmas posts from Flashback Dallas can be found here.

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6 Comments

October 9, 2023

“Thrilling! Inspiring! Gorgeous!” — 1936

by Paula Bosse

I don’t think the 1936 Texas Exposition at Fair Park could have oversold itself. It was everything it promised. The sensory overload must have been almost debilitating!

The night beauty of the Texas Centennial Exposition at Dallas is breath-taking! Rainbow-hued fountains, rippling flags, colorful buildings, thousands of constantly changing lights blending into a symphony of thrilling, inspiring, gorgeous effects… A glamorous fairyland of scintillating light, color and cool water that alone will repay your trip. SEE this marvel of beauty!

“Have the time of your life in Dallas! […] Joyous days and nights of holiday-making await you … in one of the most magnificent settings ever conceived! […] The Texas Centennial Exposition at Dallas is being enthusiastically applauded as the most magnificent spectacle ever attempted on the American continent.”

“World’s Greatest Show for 50¢… Ample Tourist Accommodations… Come to Dallas!”

(According to the Inflation Calculator, 50¢ admission in 1936 would be equivalent to about $10 in today’s money. 10¢ hamburgers would be about $2, and 5¢ cold drinks would be about $1.)

“Dallas: Night Spot of the World! / Dallas: Day Spot of the World!”

***

Sources & Notes

Images from a promotional brochure offered recently on eBay.

Check out many previous Flashback Dallas posts on the Texas Centennial here.

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2 Comments

September 25, 2023

1500 Block of Elm — 1920s

1500 block of Elm Street, south side…

by Paula Bosse

This is a great photo by Frank Rogers showing businesses on the south side of the 1500 block of Elm Street, between Stone and Akard (see it today on Google Street View here — some of these buildings are still standing). Mid-1920s? Back when Elm ran two ways, and you could park your rumble-seated roadster at the curb.

Mostly out of frame at the left is the W. A. Green department store (1516-18 Elm), then, moving east to west, Leelands women’s fashions (1514 Elm), Fields Millinery Co. (1512 Elm), part of the Marjdon Hat Shop (1510 Elm), and, above the hat shop, Neuman’s School of Dancing. (“Marjdon” must be one of the most annoying and hard-to-say business names I’ve come across.)

The block continues in the photo below, in another photo by Rogers (this building has been replaced and is now a parking garage).

We see a full shot of Marjdon (that name…). Previously (1916-1924), that street-level space was occupied by the Rex Theater. Next door is Thomas Confectionery (1508 Elm, one of the company’s several downtown locations), which, according to the promotional postcard below was the “largest confectionery in the state.”

via Portal to Texas History

Dallas High School yearbook, 1916

March 1, 1924

April 21, 1922

March 1, 1925

Elm Street, 1925 Dallas street directory

Check out this block in the 1921 Sanborn map here.

***

Sources & Notes

The two photographs were taken by Dallas photographer Frank Rogers for real estate developers McNeny & McNeny; they were found on eBay.

8 Comments

July 30, 2023

The Sumpter Building — 1912

by Paula Bosse

Behold, the Sumpter Building and a partial view of its little buddy, the Edwards & Phillips Building, which were built simultaneously. (See them on a 1921 Sanborn map here.) Both were designed by Dallas architect C. D. Hill, whose spectacular Municipal Building would be built a couple of years later, two and a half blocks away.

Guess what? Both are still standing — part of the Joule empire. See what they look like today — at 1604-1608 Main Street — on Google Street View here. (The shorter building has been through a multitude of renovations over the years, but at some point, by at least 2007, someone had restored it — however briefly — to its original design, as you can see in a 2007 Google Street View here — look how tired and dirty the Sumpter Building looked back then, before its recent scrubbed and rejuvenated revitalization.)

The Sumpter Building served primarily as office space over the years — architect C. D. Hill had a “penthouse” office on the top floor (I wonder if he knew that when he was drawing up the plans?) — and the smaller building was retail space on the ground floor and office space above. It might be remembered as the home of Linz Jewelers for several decades.

Dallas Morning News, Dec. 17, 1911 (click to read)

DMN, Mar. 7, 1912

DMN, Aug. 25, 1912

Dallas Historical Society, 1912

The smaller building debuted as home to retail tenant Matthews Brothers. (It is presently the home of another fashion mecca, Traffic Los Angeles (1608 Main).

April 1912

In 1940, Linz took over the shorter building. Articles in The Dallas Morning News described “construction” and a new design by Lang & Witchell, but I think the building was just gutted and (weirdly) refaced.

Linz Bros. Jewelers (Lang & Witchell, 1940)

Here it is in living color, in 1970.

WFAA-Channel 8 News, Jan. 1970 (Jones Film Collection, SMU)

By the end of 1970, the building had undergone another (weird) “facelift” (and an expansion).

WFAA-Channel 8 News, Jan. 1971 (Jones Film Collection, SMU)

(The two screenshots above are from Channel 8 news reports about a fantastically successful jewelry heist in January 1970. Linz would never reveal the value of jewels stolen in the massive theft, but it was estimated at the time to be between $1.6 million and $3.5 million (the equivalent in today’s dollars of $12.5 million to $27 million!). It was the biggest burglary in Dallas history, and it was estimated to have been the biggest in the South. As far as I can tell, the crime was never solved. A great report on how it happened — with interesting little tidbits such as the fact that the robbers emptied a safe and took everything except for a few pieces of costume jewelry and that the burglars stopped for a break to brew a cup of coffee in the adjacent shoe store — can be found in the Dallas Morning News archives in the story “Gem Loss $3 Million?” by Robert Finklea (DMN, Jan. 13, 1970). It reads like a movie!

I’m always surprised to find these century-old buildings still standing downtown. Poor things have been through a lot.

Thank you to Chad K. for asking on Patreon if I knew anything about the history of these buildings. As it turned out, I knew NOTHING about the history of these buildings. I do now! Thanks for asking, Chad!

***

Sources & Notes

July 23, 2023

Jury Duty at the Old Municipal Building, Not for the Faint-Hearted

municipal-bldg_google-street-view_aug-2007 Sad and gloomy, yearning for restoration (2007)

by Paula Bosse

Several years ago, I maintained a long-running personal blog (back in the days when everyone had a blog — now everyone has a podcast). A recent comment on my Patreon page reminded me of an old blog post I wrote in 2010, several years before I began Flashback Dallas. I thought I would share it here (slightly rewritten). It’s a different sort of thing than I normally write on *this* blog — it’s pretty long and only tangentially connected with Dallas history — but it made me laugh to reread this 13 years later. (I have to add that since I wrote this back in 2010, the Municipal Building has been lovingly, *dazzlingly* restored by the University of North Texas and is no longer the hellhole I describe below! I haven’t seen the restored interior in person yet, but photos show some unbelievably amazing work! Thank you, UNT!)

October 27, 2010

I’m one of those people who receives a lot of jury summonses. I swear one year I got at least 3. Maybe 4. Do they keep sending them to me because I always report for jury duty like a responsible citizen is supposed to do? Is this good behavior working against me? So when I got a jury summons last month — a mere 4 months after my most recent jury duty on Cinco de Mayo — several unladylike words spilled out of me as I stood at the mailbox. I scanned the list of acceptable exemptions — there was a little empty checkbox next to the statement “I have been convicted of a felony.” Instant exemption! My first thought was, “Hmm. I’ve got six weeks….” It was tempting.

But I was still felony-free by the time I had to report yesterday (Oct. 26, 2010), so I somehow got myself up at the crack of dawn after only 4 or 5 hours of sleep and pointed my car in the direction of downtown. Most of my jury duty has been at the criminal courts building, which is easy to get to, and the chairs in the central jury room are plush and fairly comfy. This time, though — for the first time — I was summoned to a municipal court, where I guess they try people for non-death-penalty offenses like traffic tickets and zoning violations. If this day had any upside, it was that it would be my first visit to the beautiful Municipal Building. I couldn’t wait to see what that building — arguably the grandest building in Dallas — looked like inside.

But first I had to get there. I had to travel what felt like the entire length of downtown before I was able to turn left on Main and loop back to Harwood. I was sleep-deprived, caffeine-deprived, and just generally cranky, knowing that this whole thing was unnecessary, as I would no doubt be let go by noon, after having sat around for hours doing nothing but thinking unladylike things and wondering the whole time how this inefficient system keeps going.

Convenient parking? Ha! Fend for yourselves, suckers. At least Frank Crowley has a parking garage. Somehow, I found an unattended, cash-only lot along Commerce for the surprisingly affordable price of $2.00. My luck continued when I found that I actually had two one-dollar bills, which I stuffed through the narrow slot.

Despite my lengthy detour, I had arrived a little early and enjoyed a leisurely walk down Commerce. As I passed the building’s parking garage entrance/exit, I wondered if that was where Lee Harvey Oswald was shot. (It was.) I took my time, taking in the lovely, stately Municipal Building, which opened to rapturous acclaim in 1914 — it’s one of those cool old buildings that Dallas loves to tear down. I was really looking forward to stepping inside that grand palace, imagining an interior of marble, brass, etched glass, and ornate, highly polished, hand-carved wooden banisters.

I headed up the elegant, wide steps, walked in, and… oh… my… god. It was awful. AWFUL! But before I was treated to the full force of its awfulness, I was first greeted with the de rigueur metal detector. Which I set off. I stepped back and the officer asked me to raise each pant leg so he could see the tops of my shoes. I must have looked confused because he said, “We just want to make sure you’re not wearing an ankle holster.” Without thinking, I stupidly replied, “Pfft — I WISH,” and I instantly regretted it. But he laughed, and I continued on my way.

The Beaux-Arts-style Municipal Building, designed by architect C. D. Hill, is beautiful and stately. …On the outside. Here’s what it looked like almost 100 years ago:

city_hall

Inside? Dear god. Depressingly institutional. Last “updated” circa the ’70s/’80s? Cramped and claustrophobic, bad paint, fluorescent lights, drop ceiling tiles, and absolutely no signage. I had to ask three people how to get to the central jury room! It’s a shame I found it, because I am going to have nightmares about that horrible place for a long time. There were about a hundred of us sitting on folding chairs in a room with dingy cream-colored walls trimmed with flat-turquoise paint. It reeked of the thousands of cigarettes which had no doubt been smoked over the past century by thousands of long-dead civil servants. The smell of stale smoke was embedded in every nook and cranny of that room. I think I would have preferred to serve my civic duty by picking up Miller Lite cartons from the side of the highway.

The worst thing about the room? The blaring TV. I don’t know why this has become acceptable, but it’s everywhere: in every waiting room there’s always a TV now — always on, stuck on a program you would never choose to watch. My fellow captive good citizens and I were subjected to a chirpy morning show (“Sweaters: to tuck or not?”) and lurid Hollywood gossip. I wondered if I could leave the room to get a breath of fresh air — it would be sheer relief to stand out in the hallway with the slumlords and the red-light-runners waiting their turn to go before the judge and take on City Hall. But I didn’t see anyone else doing that, so I sat, defeated, involuntarily learning about the finer points of sweater-tucking.

After an hour and a half or so, the marshal — who had a shaved head and wore taps on his shoes — announced that we were allowed a half-hour break. I hot-footed it out of there and left the building (I had to ask how to get out). I walked around the building admiring it, then walked across the street to a new park that’s sprung up since I was last downtown — a whole block of a park, lined with trees and terraced walkways — in downtown Dallas — with grass and everything! It’s cool. Here’s a photo I took of the municipal building from across the park (Main Street Garden):

Oct. 26, 2010 / photo: Paula Bosse

I saw several young hipsters walking their dogs. I bounced across a small playground, built on some sort of weird, springy, spongey surface. I thought how unusual and how nice this whole “open space” thing was. My half hour was up too soon. As I walked back, a possibly homeless man joined me and chatted with giddy enthusiasm about the Rangers being in the World Series, insisting to me that they were Going. To. Win. I laughed and said I believed him. It was such a beautiful day. How sad that I was heading back to the dark dungeon of the central jury room. I waited to cross the street with a couple of women I recognized as fellow potential jurors. They decided to blithely cross against a red light. There were six police cars parked in front of us, but not one cop to bust these scofflaws! I crossed on green, because I’d used up my luck finding a convenient parking spot, and as sure as the Rangers are Going To Win the World Series, I knew I would be instantly cited for pedestrian incivility the second I stepped off the curb to a flashing red light.

Back inside, I set off the metal detector a second time and showed my holster-free ankles to a different officer and followed the trail of breadcrumbs I’d left earlier. In the jury room — where women outnumbered men 4-1, and the median age was 60 — the two women who’d crossed on red were talking about the Laura Bush autobiography one of them was reading. Two other women were talking in excruciating detail about deaths of beloved pets. The guy next to me was nodding off, somehow oblivious to Wendy Williams chattering excitedly about Charlie Sheen and a hooker. A guy behind me had a laptop which kept making clanging sounds and which he’d plugged into an extension cord that snaked its way into the bowels of a mystery room behind an intimidating door marked “Private.”

There was no coffee in the building. (“There is NO coffee in the building,” the marshal had informed us earlier. “If you want a cup of coffee, you’re going to have to exit the building.”) HAD there been coffee, it would have been thin and stale and cold, and the powdered artificial creamer would not have dissolved, no matter how much you stabbed at the globules with a plastic stir stick. Like in the movie “Joe Versus the Volcano.” I kept thinking of that movie, because that godforsaken central jury room I was trapped in could have been the inspiration for the scene in that movie which my brother and I often reference:

*
I was so miserable. I contemplated committing some sort of petty property crime to relieve the tedium but reconsidered when I realized I’d only find myself back in the same building when my trial date came up. I was going to have to tough it out like an adult.

A middle-aged woman who looked like she was probably a hardcore, high-powered North Dallas realtor sat a couple of rows in front of me and seemed to be able to read only a sentence or two from her book (Famous Soviet Spies) before she grew bored and slipped her “We the People” bookmark back in and closed it, only to stare off into space, gathering the energy to raise the book again and read from it for 20 or 30 more aggressively-anti-Communist seconds.

The youngest person in the room sighed frequently and played a game on her phone.

An older Black man in a gimme cap and an older white man who had probably left his gimme cap in his truck talked together absolutely without pause for the entire time we were there. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but I have a feeling they’ll be spending Thanksgiving together this year.

Throughout my ordeal, I had longed to hear the snappy taps on the shoes of the marshal. He would be our savior — the one who could let us go. Finally, he returned. He called maybe 10 people and sent the rest of us on our way. It was 11:00 AM. I had been there only two and a half hours. It felt like a lifetime.

I got in my car, stopped for a burrito, headed home, and fell asleep on the couch. Civic duty done. I only hope I’m never called back to that depressing, confusing building. Pray you’re never called for jury duty there.

***

Sources & Notes

Blog post by Paula Bosse, originally published on Oct. 27, 2010 (revised July 2023).

Photo of the sad, dark Municipal Building at top is from Google Street View, Aug. 2007; photo from 2013 by Paula Bosse.

The City of Dallas and all of us who live here, should fall to our knees to thank the University of North Texas Law School and the team of incredible people who restored and renovated the former Municipal Building. Thankfully, all of my sarcastic descriptions above are no longer accurate. I mean, look at this photo of what a hallway looks like now:

That photo is one of several showing the restoration in the article “Bringing Historic Dallas Back to Life” by Preston Pressley, on LinkedIn, here (possibly behind a subscription wall).

See more photos — as well as the film “Restore” by Mark Birnbaum — on the Phoenix I Restoration and Construction site, here.

Look at this photo of the revitalized building today — more beautiful than I’ve ever seen it. Every inch of its exterior has been cleaned, spruced up, and restored. I kind of wish I could be called to jury duty there now!

UNT Dallas College of Law

How it all began: my Flashback Dallas post “The Elegant Municipal Building — 1914.”

Lastly, if you would like to support me on Patreon, pop on over. I post daily.

8 Comments

July 3, 2023

Dallas Hall, The Early Days

Build it and they will come, Jimmie…

by Paula Bosse

I can’t even remember what I was looking for in the SMU Libraries database when I stumbled across a collection of magazines/newsletters called The Campus, from 1912-1914. It’s pretty dry reading, but they appear to be updates sent out to moneyed Methodists who were actively working on raising funds for construction of the new Southern Methodist University in Dallas. There are the occasional interesting ads (especially for the Methodist-owned real estate which surrounded the campus and would soon generate substantial moolah) and progress reports on the construction of the first building, the magnificent Dallas Hall. Here are a few of the photos.

“Showing progress on Dallas Hall” (1912) — this is great:

“Workingmen’s quarters on S.M.U. campus” (1912) — this is greater (tents! — is that a horse in there?):

“Dallas Hall — as it appears today” (1913):

And finally, all shiny and ready to open for business (1915):

Lastly, an architectural drawing, which I’d like to think construction workers might have glanced at occasionally to make sure everything was going in the right place — like dissectologists using the lid of a jigsaw puzzle box. (Incidentally, $300,000 in 1912 was equivalent to about $9.5 million in today’s dollars. I think it might have ended up costing more by the time it was finished.)

***

Sources & Notes

All images are from various issues of The Campus, all of which may be accessed on the SMU Libraries site here; (DeGolyer Library, SMU Libraries, SMU Archives, Southern Methodist University).

See a couple of great photos of Dallas Hall under construction: domeless, and mid-dome (DeGolyer Library).

Other Flashback Dallas posts on the very early years of SMU:

This post originated in a post I made last week on my Patreon page, which I update daily. If you would like to subscribe to that page for as little as $5 a month, please hie yourself over there!

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Flashback : Dallas

Category: Architecture/Significant Bldgs.

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Jury Duty at the Old Municipal Building, Not for the Faint-Hearted

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Dallas Hall, The Early Days

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Category: Architecture/Significant Bldgs.

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