Flashback : Dallas

Dallas’ “Courthouse Complex”

Early-’60s vision of the “courthouse complex”

by Paula Bosse

Let’s all be thankful that the Old Red Courthouse is still with us, because there was serious talk in the ’50s and ’60s of razing it to make way for a more modern downtown and a more efficient use of space. Lon Tinkle wrote the following in the mid-’60s:

Excerpt from Lon Tinkle’s “The Key to Dallas” (1965)

Tinkle’s next paragraph: “It is not that Dallas doesn’t care. It does. But it has to grow into this experience of great cities, and it will.”

Here’s what the eastern boundary of the “courthouse complex” looked like in 1964. (Incidentally, the first Kennedy memorial site was chosen in April, 1964, and it was to be in the block immediately to the east of the Records Building, the one seen in the center of this photo. Sometime in the next few months, the location was changed to the block immediately east of the Old Red Courthouse.)

Ferd Kaufman, AP

Here’s what the southern boundary looked like when construction of the new Dallas County Courthouse began in the spring of 1963:

And here’s the “complex” today.

Old Red isn’t going anywhere!

UPDATE: After posting this on the Flashback Dallas Facebook page, a person commented about having worked across the street during the new courthouse’s construction.

On the night of June 19, 1964, a massive fire broke out on the upper floors of the new courts building, which was then under construction. There were 130 firefighters and more than 30 pieces of equipment on the scene according to newspaper accounts. The commenter wrote the following, in clipped sentences, telegram-style:

“I started to work 1963 at Terminal Annex. The Court House under construction, razed by fire shortly thereafter, heat from fire made us work away from windows. There was no thought of leaving building as mail had to make connections to railroads.”

First thing: Wow. The postal creed in action. Wonder if the workers got hazard pay? Or at least a W.C. Fields “hearty handclasp.”

Secondly: I had never seen the phrase “razed by fire” before. It’s not really accurate here, because only the upper floors were destroyed, but the cinematic quality of the phrase is pretty cool. I’ll have to file the phrase away to be used as the title for my memoirs, even if it doesn’t really apply to anything I’ve ever done or experienced. Can’t sacrifice a good title.

Thirdly: I continue to realize just how exceedingly dull my life is.

***

Sources & Notes

Top image and text is from Lon Tinkle’s wonderful The Key to Dallas (Philadelphia/New York: J. B. Lippincott Co., 1965), an extremely informative book for young people. The drawing is by Dallas artist Bud Biggs (his signature is seen in the reproduction of this drawing in the Aug. 1961 issue of Dallas magazine).

Labeled image of the area in question, looking west, is an Associated Press photo by Ferd Kaufman, taken in 1964. I used this previously in the post “Where To Put That Kennedy Memorial? — 1964.”

Aerial view is a current one, from Google Maps.

2 Comments

January 15, 2015

The Dallas Athletic Club Building, 1925-1981

dallas-athletic-club The Dallas Athletic Club, 1920s

by Paula Bosse

Dallas’s premier architects Lang & Witchell designed the Dallas Athletic Club building. It was built between 1923 and 1925 on a triangular piece of land located at St. Paul, Elm, and Live Oak, its entrance facing St. Paul. It was one of the city’s top private clubs, catering to Dallas’ businessmen. Aside from sports and recreational facilities — swimming pools (for men and women), gymnasiums, games courts, billiard rooms, etc. — the club also offered meeting rooms, a dining room, a ballroom, and lounges. It also offered use of hotel-like “rooms” to members and their guests. (If it was anything like old movies from this period, I assume it was a handy place to stay if a DAC member was in the doghouse with his wife — or in the midst of divorce proceedings. “If the VP from the home-office calls, Miss Klondike, I can be reached at my room at the club.”) The building also housed a variety of non-DAC-related businesses and offices — my great aunt had a hat shop there in the late 1930s and early 1940s.

The Athletic Club was a major social and recreational spot for years and was something of a landmark in the east end of downtown. In the 1950s the membership opened a country club and golf course near Mesquite but kept the downtown facility open as well. But with suburbia’s surge and downtown’s decline, it was only a matter of time until the club closed the downtown facility. The DAC finally sold the building in 1978, and it was demolished in 1981 to make way for the 50-story 1700 Pacific tower. It had a good run.

Before construction began, an artesian well was dug on the property.

dac_artesian-well_dmn_031722 DMN, March 17, 1922

When it was finished five months later, “water sufficient to produce 300,000 gallons of water every twenty-four hours was reached” (Dallas Morning News, Aug. 20, 1922).

Photo by Charles Erwin Arnold showing construction in progress:

via Dallas Historical Society

The progress made to date on the new home of the Dallas Athletic Club Building, which is under construction. […] The picture was snapped from an upper floor of the Medical Arts Building. […] The facing for the three lower floors is of gray Bedford stone. The exterior walls for the upper floors will be of dark red brick. The large openings extending from the fourth to sixth floors will contain the massive windows over the men’s swimming pool. The men’s gymnasium will be on the south side of the fourth floor. When completed, the building will cost approximately $2,000,000, and it will be the most modern athletic club in the United State, according to club officials. (DMN, Nov. 25, 1923)

Ad for “Berloy Floor Cores” from 1924. Great photo!

dac_construction_dmn_111624

Work is nearing completion on the concrete framing for the five upper floors of the thirteen-story Dallas Athletic Club building at Elm and St. Paul street, and bricklaying will be started probably this week. The five upper floors will be used for office purposes, with the club quarters on the eight lower floors, except for some storerooms facing the two streets. (DMN, Nov. 16, 1924)

1946-ish (click for much larger image)

The above pictures portray some of the many features of one of Dallas’ greatest civic assets, the Dallas Athletic Club. The club’s home is the modern thirteen-story club and office building, facing St. Paul Street, bounded by Elm and Live Oak streets. It was completed in 1925 at a cost of almost $3,000,000.

The Club utilizes the basement and eight floors of the building. The first five floors are devoted to facilities for the services of members and their families, including clubs and private dining rooms, game rooms, swimming pools for men and women, gymnasium, etc. Three floors are given over to living quarters for members and their out-of-town guests. On these floors are eighty bedrooms and suites, all decorated and furnished in accordance with the highest standards of modern hotels. The Club’s year ’round program of cultural and recreational activities for members and their families play an important part in the business and social life of Dallas. Membership is by invitation. (“So This Is Dallas,” a guide for newcomers to the city, circa 1946)

Aerial view from 1938, looking east; the DAC is in the center, with Elm Street to the right. (SMU)

1950s matchbook, via SMU

In March, 1981 it was announced that the building would be imploded.

The former Dallas Athletic Club building, which for 53 years served as a health club and meeting place for Dallas businessmen, will be imploded. […] A 50-story office building will be constructed on the site. The 57-year-old building has been empty since the club moved from the building in 1978. (Dallas Morning News, March 22, 1981)

And on March 22, 1981…

DMN, March 23, 1981

The end of an era.

But let’s remember happier times for the Dallas Athletic Club building and gaze at this idealized version from Lang & Witchell’s original drawing (circa 1922).

***

Sources & Notes

Bird’s-eye view of the construction site is by Charles Erwin Arnold and is from the Arnold Photographic Collection, Dallas Historical Society; its ID number is A.68.28.17.

Aerial view is a detail from a photograph taken by Lloyd M. Long in 1938; it is from the Edwin J. Foscue Map Library, Southern Methodist University. The full photo can be seen here; the same photo, with buildings labeled, is here.

Lang & Witchell drawing from The Yearbook of the Dallas Architectural Club, 1922.

Dallas Morning News clippings and photos are as noted.

Live Oak used to cut through the block bounded by St. Paul, Elm, Ervay, and Pacific. To get an idea of where the building was, here is a 1962 map of the area (the full map can be seen here).

The Dallas Athletic Club is still around. Their website is here.

9 Comments

January 13, 2015

SMU Football Players’ Unusual Summer Job: Strutting and Parading at the Dog Track — 1937

It was kind of like this… (click for larger image with caption)

by Paula Bosse

In doing research for my recent post on the Oak Downs/Sportsman’s Park greyhound racing track across from Love Field, I came across, of all things, a 1935 Mickey Mouse comic strip story arc about dog racing. The first panel of one of the early strips is above. Its caption:

The preliminaries have been run, and now, the main event of the day is about to start! The band strikes up as the proud owners parade their dogs to the starting box.

So when I came across a 1937 story about financially-strapped SMU football players earning extra money during the off-season by parading greyhounds around our dog track, I couldn’t help but think of the cartoon panel above. …But with maybe more strutting.

Some of Matty Bell’s Southern Methodist University Mustangs already are picking up something more than pin money out at Sportsman’s Park, where greyhound racing is flourishing and gaining in popularity nightly. When Lou Harris’ jazz band strikes up a lively tune for the parade to the post you’ll see eight husky young athletes leading out the field of greyhounds in that race. They’re decked out in handsome uniform and they’ve learned to strut with the music and put on their part of the show in style. After finally placing the dogs in the starting box they keep fit running down the track to a stand where they wait until the race is over to catch the canines and then return them to their owners…. [Coach Bell] thinks the work in the open, combining strutting with running, will help keep off that excess poundage. Meantime some other coaches are wishing they had dog tracks in the vicinity of their schools.” (Dallas Morning News, April 30, 1937)

***

Sources & Notes

Mickey Mouse panel from the 9-week dog-racing story arc which ran between Jan. and March, 1935; this particular panel appeared in newspapers on Jan. 8, 1935.

Dallas Morning News excerpt from George White’s “Sport Broadcast” column (DMN, April 30, 1937). I’m afraid I know nothing about Mr. White, except that, lordy, that man needed to pare down his sentences and use a lot more commas!

2 Comments

January 12, 2015

Oak Downs: Dallas’ Brief Flirtation with Greyhound Racing

Oak Downs greyhound track, ca. 1935 (photo courtesy Robert Hurst)

by Paula Bosse

Robert Hurst has shared three great photos with me: the one above, and the two below. They show Oak Downs, a greyhound racing track that he thought might have been in Oak Cliff. A dog track? In Dallas? That was news to me. Mr. Hurst came across the photos a few years ago when going through the belongings of his grandparents, Lt. Col. and Mrs. C. W. Newman. As far as he knew, they had no particular interest in dog racing, and he wasn’t sure why they would have been in possession of photos of a greyhound track. I was a little hesitant to delve into anything having to do with dog racing, but these wonderful photographs piqued my interest. (For the faint of heart, this post focuses almost exclusively on the somewhat vague and constantly changing laws on parimutuel betting in Texas, with very little on the troubling aspects of greyhound racing.)

Grandstand, daytime (click for larger image) (courtesy Robert Hurst)

Grandstand, nighttime (courtesy Robert Hurst)

The track was located not in Oak Cliff, but right across the street from Love Field — an area that was “north of the city” in the 1930s. It was to the west of the airfield, with the address listed, popularly, as Maple Avenue, but officially as Denton Drive (just north of Burbank Road).

1930s (Edwin J. Foscue Map Library, SMU)

2014 (Google Maps)

The first mention I can find of greyhound racing in Dallas was in 1898 at events held at the Fair Park horse racing track — the “sport” then was “coursing.” I don’t want to go into it, but live hares and jackrabbits were used, and it didn’t end well for them. (Competitive coursing is, I believe, now illegal in Texas, but open-field coursing is considered hunting and is legal.)

The first professional greyhound racing track to take the “blood” out of “blood sport” by utilizing an electric rabbit lure, was in California in 1919. The first track in the Dallas area to use an electric rabbit seems to have been one that opened near Grand Prairie in 1928; the news stories made sure to mention that there would be no wagering going on because, unlike other states where dog racing had been going on for some time and was quite popular as a gambling sport, parimutuel betting was not legal in Texas. Racing at that early track doesn’t seem to have lasted very long — probably because the spectators were not allowed to wager on the contests. Another track opened just outside Fort Worth at Deer Creek in 1934 (right after Texas had legalized betting on horse races in 1933), but, again, it doesn’t seem to have lasted long.

So, in the early ’30s, Texas was not really a hot-bed of dog racing enthusiasts. What was popular was horse racing — the two most popular tracks in the area were the Fair Park track in Dallas, and Arlington Downs in Arlington. The state legislature had voted in 1933 to allow parimutuel betting on horse races, hoping to raise revenue in the dark days of the Depression. People might not have been able to afford a new pair of shoes, but they managed to scrounge up money to bet with. Gambling on horse races was big business. But betting on dog races? Was it legal, too? It sounds like the law was surprisingly vague. Dog racing was not expressly written into law as being illegal — but people just seemed to understand it to be illegal. Proponents of greyhound racing — the so-called “Sport of Queens” — were adamant that they would force the state to address the issue and clarify the law — they would sue if they had to. A track in San Antonio had taken its case to a State Court of Appeals (after having been shut down by local authorities), and the court ruled that parimutuel wagering at dog tracks in Texas was not illegal. A precedent had bet set, and a few dog racing tracks began to open around the state, their owners and operators feeling they were relatively safe from prosecution.

In early 1935, 31-year old Winfield Morten, a “wealthy sportsman” who owned several businesses and a lot of Dallas real estate, decided he’d open a greyhound track on his 40 acres of land along Maple Ave./Denton Dr., just west of Love Field. He received his state business charter in May, 1935 (just days after the San Antonio ruling), and he made plans to open his dog racing “plant” — Oak Downs — in June. As they said back then, “pari-mutuel betting would be fully in vogue.”

Many people did not want a dog racing track in Dallas (or anywhere in Texas, really). Owners of horse tracks (and the powerful people who were in bed with them) feared that they’d lose some of that sweet gambling moolah to the upstart “dogmen.” Outside the racing world, there was the fear/expectation that with dog tracks would come the inevitable gambling and sleazy criminal element. (Dog racing was generally seen as somehow more unsavory and déclassé than horse racing, which is odd, because the horse racing industry has never been known as a squeaky-clean one.) Also, apart from the gambling-related issues, many people were probably aware of (and disturbed by) persistent accusations of animal mistreatment. Interestingly, at this same time — during the first few months of 1935 — none other than Mickey Mouse was involved in a comic strip story arc that lasted several weeks in which he was hanging out at a dog track training his dog Pluto for a race. It wasn’t long before the comic strip (which was usually full of typical comic strip silliness and gentle humor) turned surprisingly dark, and Mickey found himself involved in a world of doping, gambling, extortion, and threatened violence (!). If Walt and Mickey were against the evils of dog racing, shouldn’t everybody be? I wonder if the strip was reflecting public opinion or shaping public opinion?

mickey_021935 Poor Zowie! (Originally run Feb. 19, 1935)

Mickey’s in a tough spot (click to enlarge) (Feb. 5, 1935)

Not only was the prospect of a “seedy” dog track unpalatable for many in an image-conscious city gearing up for its upcoming Centennial-Exposition-moment in the national spotlight, but there were those who were still convinced that gambling on anything but horse races in Texas was illegal — despite what the appeals court had ruled in the San Antonio case. Several interested district attorneys from around the state petitioned the State Supreme Court for a definite ruling. In the meantime, Dallas D.A. Robert L. Hurt and Dallas County Sheriff Smoot Schmid (greatest name in law enforcement EVER) threatened to shut down the not-yet-opened Oak Downs if it allowed wagering. Battle lines were drawn, and both sides believed they were in the right.

Track manager Jack Thurman said the city’s threats didn’t scare him. He’d open as scheduled, with plans for a full season of 48 days of racing (every day but Sunday), sleek hounds, an electric rabbit, and full-tilt betting. The day before Oak Downs was scheduled to open, its operators wisely obtained an injunction against Hurt (and, basically, the Sheriff’s Department and the Texas Rangers), which prevented the track from being shut down — they would open without fear of incident, under full legal protection of a court order. Not a happy guy, Hurt said he would file a motion to dissolve the injunction … immediately!

Oak Downs opened on June 18, 1935 to a large crowd of curious spectators, most of whom had never seen a dog race. The betting windows were open, but there was little betting. There were problems with the electricity in the stadium on opening day — the electric-powered rabbit that the greyhounds chased was not running on full power, and it moved so slowly that it was caught in two separate races by the probably confused dogs. (The second night there was too much juice, and the rabbit shot away from the pack so quickly that the dogs lost sight of it and just stopped running altogether. Hard to have a race if the dogs don’t actually run.) But the crowd seemed happy, and they weren’t overly concerned by the glitches happening there at the track or by the political and legal wranglings that were swirling downtown.

The crowds and the betting increased over the next few days, hinting at a rosy future for the track’s operators. But the races and the attendant wagering continued for only eleven days. The United States Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals refused to interfere with the wishes of State law enforcement — and State law enforcement wanted Oak Downs to cease with the gambling. So there was no more parimutuel betting at Oak Downs. After trying to struggle by without the sexy allure of betting — left with nothing but exhibition races and weird novelty events involving dog-riding monkeys — Oak Downs was forced to close its season prematurely on June 29.

Bye-bye, abbreviated inaugural season. No more betting on Doctor Snow, or Dixie Lad, or Rowdy Gloom, or Miss Cutlet, or Pampa Flash, or Billie Hobo, or Blond Hazard, or Mellow Man. Oh, Mellow Man, we hardly knew ye.

In February, 1936, Morten applied to the Texas Racing Commission for permission to race horses at his track, but the idea was quickly shot down by the Dallas City Council. The very profitable horse track at Fair Park was out of commission for 1936 as it was being used as part of the Centennial Exposition. Privately owned at the time, the track was leased to the Centennial Corporation, and the City Council — the members of which were no doubt on very friendly terms with the Fair Park track owner — felt it would be “unfair” to allow a competitor to horn in on the massive profits to be had. So … no dice (…as it were).

By September of 1936, Morten changed Oak Downs’ name to Sportsman’s Park and brought in new operators (including a former Texas Ranger). Oak Downs had joined other dog tracks in a new round of legal action which was slowly working its way through the courts. Without any ruling yet from the Supreme Court, they ignored an injunction that had been filed against them and defiantly opened up their betting windows again. Four of the men were fined and jailed briefly for contempt of court. But after months of mixed messages and conflicting rulings from various judges around the state, confused and fed-up lawmen were unsure of the actual legality of dog track betting, and, grudgingly, they allowed the wagering at Oak Downs to continue as they, too, awaited a high court decision.

As reported in Texas newspapers, on Oct. 28, 1936 the Texas Supreme Court finally ruled on the matter of whether or not dog racing could be wagered on legally in the state of Texas:

We do not find any provision in the penal code defining gaming which can be construed to include dog racing or betting on dog racing. It is not a game prohibited by law. […] This court is fully conscious of the pernicious and unwholesome effects upon society of betting on dog races and keeping premises for dog racing where betting is allowed, but the proper agency for the suppression of those wrongs is the Legislature, and until it sees proper to further legislate in the matter, the courts are without power to suppress these evils by injunction.

In other words, the Texas House and Senate were going to have to take up the issue if they really wanted to do away with legalized betting on dog races (which they did), because it was their fault that they hadn’t been specific enough when they wrote their original law.

So betting was back “in vogue” once again. And now with absolutely no threat of arrest. The remainder of the 1936 season continued without problems, and when the 1937 season opened in April, it was “the first greyhound meet in Dallas free of danger of being interfered with by law enforcement agencies” (DMN, April 22, 1937), but … as there were bills to outlaw betting on dog racing AND horse racing percolating through the current Texas legislature, it was thought that the 1937 season might also be the last season of racing in Texas.

In May, 1937, Governor James V. Allred addressed the Texas Congress, urging them to repeal the current law allowing parimutuel gambling on horse racing (with the knowledge that this would almost certainly also apply to the outlawing of dog racing, as that bill had just passed the House and was headed to the Senate). Here are a couple of passages from his speech, a transcription of which appeared in newspapers throughout the state on May 28, 1937:

I do not know how to state in words a stronger case for repeal of the race track gambling law than I have already given to this Legislature from time to time. I have quoted Washington, Franklin, Blackstone, Shakespeare, Brisbane, McIntyre and the Holy Bible. I have pointed out the living evidence of undesirables, of doping, of thuggery, of embezzlement, of bank failures, of suicides, and narcotic rings. Each month of the life of this law sees addition to the numbers of these human tragedies….

And, finally, a mention of the evils of racing with regard to the animals themselves:

There is no record of a horse ever being doped except to run a race. All the races ever run are not worth the agony and cruelty dealt even one of these poor, helpless beasts! I appeal to all who love good horses, I appeal to all who believe in preventing cruelty to animals to join with me in demanding that this law be repealed.

Allred’s lengthy and impassioned speech — which addressed every argument the pro-gambling forces were wont to … trot out … must have touched a few nerves (with both the public and the politicians), because in June, both bills passed with huge margins. (The bill outlawing the betting on dog racing passed in the Senate 22-1 and in the House 109-12. With passage of the new law, betting on dog races could now incur a fine of up to $500 and a jail term of up to ninety days; the penalty of “keeping a place of betting on dogs” was two to four years in the state penitentiary.)

So no more parimutuel betting in Texas. No more dog racing. No more horse racing.

And that was that for the state’s dog tracks. What was next for Oak Downs … er, Sportsman’s Park? Three words: “midget auto racing” (i.e. the racing of very small cars, not the racing of cars operated by very small drivers).

Besides the regular auto races, two added events give promise of furnishing fans with a few thrills as well as a laugh or two. Fast cowponies will be featured in a half-mile sprint with a race for roosters rounding out the show. Winner of the cowpony race will receive $15, while the winning rooster will be rewarded with $5. Entries are open to any and all owners of ponies or roosters. (Dallas Morning News, Aug. 27, 1937)

Somehow I don’t think five-buck-purse rooster races figured into Mr. Morten’s big dreams back at the beginning of 1935.

ad_oak-downs_062235 1935

ad-dmn_042237 1937

***

Sources & Notes

Top three photos of Oak Downs greyhound racing track used by kind permission of Robert Hurst. He came across them several years ago in the belongings of his grandparents, Lt. Col. Campbell Wallace (C. W. “Bub”) Newman and Martha Price Newman. Col. Newman was a cavalry officer who served in WWI, WWII, and Korea; between WWI and WWII, he worked in Dallas as a contractor and was employed for a time at Oak Downs where he worked in track operations. (That’s why he had these photos!) [And by no means do I mean to imply that this career military man was involved in any sort of shady goings-on. In fact, from what I can tell, Oak Downs seems to have been run by a fairly “clean” group of people. The perception/reputation of dog racing at the time wasn’t great, but nothing I’ve read about this track suggests that anything unscrupulous was going at the track, behind the scenes, or amongst the personnel who worked there.] He was also an avid polo player and was a good friend (and polo teammate) of Winfield Morten who owned the track. Many thanks, Mr. Hurst, for the use of these wonderful photos!

Black and white aerial view of the Love Field/Bachman Lake area was taken by Lloyd M. Long in the 1930s; photo is from the Edwin J. Foscue Map Library, Southern Methodist University. The unlabeled photo (a detail of which is used above) can be accessed here; a labeled version of this photo (with some streets and buildings identified) can be accessed here.

I highly encourage people to see out the transcript of Governor James V. Allred’s FANTASTIC impassioned speech before members of the Texas House and Senate, which appeared in newspapers around Texas on or around May 28, 1937. As far as politics is concerned, I’m the most cynical person in the world, but this is an incredible speech.

More on the history of parimutuel gambling in Texas from Wikipedia, here.

An explanation of just what parimutuel betting is, is here.

Parimutuel racing was legalized again in Texas in 1987. The current state of racing in Texas can be read about in the Dallas Morning News article “A Last Hurrah for Texas Horse Racing” (May 3, 2014) by Gary Jacobson, here.

I’m quite honestly shocked to learn that greyhound racing is legal in the state of Texas. There seems to be really only one active track with live racing in the state (in South Texas), and the only upside to this appalling fact is that attendance has been in steep decline for years.

7 Comments

January 10, 2015

Neiman’s Will Welcome You With Open Arms When Your Gusher Finally Comes In

neiman-marcus_cartoon_1956 New Yorker cartoon by Mischa Richter, 1956

by Paula Bosse

I came across this cartoon in — of all things — a historical journal, without a source. Google informs me that this was a cartoon by Mischa Richter, and that it appeared in the Oct. 27, 1956 issue of the New Yorker, one month before the release of the heavily-promoted epic movie “Giant.” You know Jett Rink was no stranger to N-M after his gusher came in.

***

Cartoon from the TSHA journal Texas Historian, Nov. 1978, used as an illustration in the article “Neiman-Marcus: A Dream of Elegance” by Margaret Lucas.

Details on the New Yorker cartoon by Mischa Richter (and the possibility that the original artwork may be available for purchase from Condé Nast, if you are so inclined) can be found here.

1 Comment

January 9, 2015

“The Walls Are Rising” — FOUND!

walls_FilmGRAPHIC_AIA AIA Dallas

by Paula Bosse

Last month I wrote about “The Walls Are Rising,” a film about the city’s desperate need to address shortcomings in its planning and development if it wanted to avoid an urban crisis which some felt was fast-approaching. The film had been produced by the Dallas chapter of the AIA (American Institute of Architects) in 1966/67, and it was shown to numerous civic and professional organizations. When I read that the film began with an assault of images and sounds followed by an ominous and stern voice saying, “We are living in an accident,” I knew I had to see it. Also, as the film touched on many of the same city planning issues we are still debating almost 50 years later, I knew that it would have a certain amount of news value. If *I* wanted to see it, I felt sure others would, too.

I stumbled across mention of the film in early November of last year and researched it as much as I could using various online sites and databases, but I could find nothing about it after its initial barnstorming tour through the Dallas civic club scene between 1967 and 1972. I contacted the Dallas Municipal Archives and the Dallas/Texas history department of the Dallas Public Library, but neither had any info. I contacted AIA Dallas/Dallas Center for Architecture, and they weren’t familiar with the project either, but Jan Blackmon (Executive Director of AIA Dallas/DCFA) and Greg Brown (DCFA Programs Director) were both extremely enthusiastic and set out to find it.

And now they’ve found it. To be more precise, it was AIA’s Anna Procter who tracked down a copy of the film. Her dogged detective work resulted in not only finding a copy of “The Walls Are Rising” (still on a reel), but also finding other archival material concerning AIA concerns regarding the city’s urban planning and development issues of the late-’60s — a little treasure trove of cool stuff.

The film has been digitized, and it will be screened by AIA Dallas on Jan. 19, 2015. If you’d like to attend the screening and panel discussion, information for the event is here. (If you can’t make it, don’t worry — there are plans to upload the film for online viewing in the near future.)

An enthusiastic article about the film by Robert Wilonsky of The Dallas Morning News (who will also be moderating the panel on Jan. 19), can be found here.

Sometimes spending my days wandering through virtual archives and blowing virtual dust off virtual files pays off. I look forward to seeing “The Walls Are Rising,” and I’m so happy to have played a part in the unearthing of a forgotten part of Dallas’ history!

AIA Dallas

(The fact that it contains over 8,000 slides and was originally presented with THREE projectors — guaranteeing maximum visual assault — is just fantastically crazy. With the ominous tone, the use of Wagner’s “Flight of the Valkyries,” and what sounds like an experimental use of sound and quick-cutting images, all I can think of is a Dallas version of the sublime “Manchild in Beantown,” the “art” film Diane makes for Woody’s parents — and the funniest thing that “Cheers” ever did — which can be viewed here.)

***

Sources & Notes

Images used with permission of AIA Dallas.

My original post, “Urban Crisis — 1967,” is here.

5 Comments

January 9, 2015

Greetings!

by Paula Bosse

It’s the beginning of a new year — so why not post a few links on how you can keep up with new Flashback Dallas posts.

You can be notified via email when a new post is added. Just click the “Follow” button in the bottom right corner. You do not need to register or have a WordPress account.

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Thanks again for reading!

January 8, 2015

Elvis at the Big D Jamboree — 1955

elvis_big-d-jamboree_program_090355-photo

by Paula Bosse

Today is Elvis Presley’s birthday — a perfect time to present a nostalgic look back at the early days of his fame, before he broke nationally and when it was still pretty easy to get a ticket to see him. Here are a few tidbits from his appearance on Sept. 3, 1955 at the legendary Big D Jamboree (held at the equally legendary Sportatorium). Happy Birthday, E!

Big D Jamboree program, Sept. 3, 1955

That night’s schedule — E’s all over it

Typos like this wouldn’t be a problem soon

***

Sources & Notes

Photo of Elvis and the two clippings from the Big D Jamboree program to that night’s show, Sept. 3, 1955 (which the ad is promoting).

9 Comments

January 6, 2015

Earthquake! — 1925

earthquake_dmn_0731_25

by Paula Bosse

I think, perhaps, the reporter was incorrect on the earthquake of July 30, 1925 being the “first in history” to hit the Texas Panhandle, but it makes a great Page One headline.

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Okay, so it’s not Dallas (…but only because I couldn’t find any historic articles about earthquakes in Dallas!), but it seems applicable, as today I experienced my first-ever earthquake — and it was in Dallas! Actually, the official tally for the day so far is four. FOUR! Eight. EIGHT! (Actually, we’re all losing count at this point.)

A 1983 article in The Dallas Morning News (“Quake Never Struck City, but SMU Prof Studies Them Anyway,” by Jane Wolfe, July 10, 1983) reported on earthquake-study being done at SMU. The very idea of this was amusing back then, because anyone who grew up here knows (and has boasted) “there are no earthquakes in Dallas.” My, how things change.

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Sources & Notes

Top headline and snippet of first article from The Dallas Morning News, July 31, 1925. The full report of broken crockery from around the Panhandle and Oklahoma can be read in a PDF, here.

An interesting Handbook of Texas article, “Notable Earthquakes Shake Texas on Occasion,” can be read here.

In case you’re preparing for a Jeopardy try-out, here are a couple of handy factoids on historic seismic activity in the Lone Star State (from another Handbook of Texas entry, “Earthquakes”): “The first known earthquake in Texas occurred in Seguin and New Braunfels on February 13, 1847. The largest earthquake in Texas occurred on August 16, 1931, near Valentine in Jeff Davis County; it measured about 6.0 on the Richter Scale.” And earthquakes never happen in Dallas. And it don’t rain in Indianapolis in the summertime.