by Paula Bosse
I could be WAY off, but this MIGHT be approximately Commerce and Poydras, looking … east? For present-day reference, it’s about where the McDonald’s is on Commerce. Possibly. Click it to make it larger. Misinformation is likely.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
by Paula Bosse
Station 15 — at Davis and Bishop — was a working firehouse decades before it was converted into Gloria’s restaurant in the Bishop Arts District. Here are the “before” photos.
While you’re enjoying that incredible black rice (among other things…), take the time to enjoy your surroundings — it’s not every day you’re able to dine inside an old firehouse (don’t miss the brass fireman’s pole). Here’s the firehouse today:
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First and third photo from Dallas Firefighters Museum collection on the Portal to Texas History site here.
Second photo (circa 1931) is available for purchase here.
Photo of Gloria’s from The Dallas Morning News.
More info on Station 15 here.
Gloria’s website here.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
by Paula Bosse
Unless there was some sort of photo manipulation involved, that photographer pretty much had just one chance to get that shot. And he got it.
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Photo from Image Archives USA, available for purchase here.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
Pike Park (click for MUCH larger image)
by Paula Bosse
Fantastic photo of a 4th of July celebration in Little Mexico’s Pike Park in 1926, with the caption reading “Concilio Pro Mexicano y La Colonia de Dallas.”
Today is Cinco de Mayo, which, before it was co-opted by the gringo, was primarily a big party in communities populated by Mexican-Americans and Mexican immigrants. In Dallas, that meant a fiesta of music and food at Pike Park. I remember going to a few of these when I was a child, and my unmistakably Anglo family stood out in the crowd, but we were always welcomed and we had a great time. I loved it. Not to be a killjoy, but I’m not a fan of what Cinco de Mayo has become — just another excuse to drink to excess (St. Patrick’s Day with margaritas). But, if you’ve pulled out that novelty sombrero from the back of your closet and you’re celebrating today, well … olé. But pace yourself, amigos.
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Photo from the Dallas Mexican American Historical League; it accompanied a great Dallas Morning News blog post by Dianne Solís regarding Pike Park, here.
A CNN interview with the always-entertaining Gustavo Arellano — the man behind the very funny “Ask a Mexican” column — on why he believes the Cinco de Mayo holiday is “pointless” is here.
And Arellano’s article “Gringo de Mayo” is here.
That photo is gigantic. Click for larger image.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
M-K-T approaching…
by Paula Bosse
I love this photo — taken not far from where I grew up — showing an MKT train waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out in the country. A. C. Greene’s caption, from his book Dallas, The Deciding Years:
The Katy approaches Dallas. This spot would be near Mockingbird Lane and Greenville today. It was taken about 1908.
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Here’s another photo, circa 1940s — SMU buildings can be seen in the distance.
And the caption to this photo, from the book The Park Cities: A Walker’s Guide and History by Diane Galloway and Kathy Matthews:
SMU as it was in the early forties can be seen in the distance as the Missouri-Kansas-Texas #379 Train No. 2 “Texas Special” speeds by northbound, approaching Greenville Avenue overpass. This particular day the train has a “pusher” because it was over ten cars long.
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Below, a couple of helpful maps showing the general area (click to see larger images).
1952 Mapsco
Google Maps
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I’m just going to imagine the dearly departed Dr Pepper plant in the background. I grew up very close to here, and I would lie awake in bed as a child and hear train whistles a few blocks away. Even though the railroad tracks across Mockingbird, just east of Central, were removed several years ago, I automatically slow down when I drive across where they had been, still expecting to drive over the raised rails.
I sound old. (Am I old?) No, I’m not old! (…Am I?) Hmm. Maybe it’s time to start handing out ribbon candy to the neighborhood children who fetch my hat pins, lye soap, and a bolt of gingham from the sundries counter of the dry goods store in town.
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First photo and caption from Dallas, The Deciding Years by A. C. Greene (Austin: Encino Press, 1973).
Second photo (from the DeGolyer Library, SMU) and caption appeared in the book The Park Cities: A Walker’s Guide and History by Diane Galloway and Kathy Matthews.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
by Paula Bosse
This photo of Industrial Boulevard is from Our City — Dallas by Justin F. Kimball. Below, a few of his paragraphs on Leslie Stemmons’ vision of what we now know as Industrial Boulevard. (Mr. Stemmons most likely did not foresee the tackiness and bail bonds emporia which now line this “boulevard.”)
Starting at the south end of the levee district, running north the whole length of the district with branches opening to Irving, to Wichita Falls, and to Denton and Gainesville, Industrial Boulevard, 130 feet wide, was dedicated for future traffic use at a time when there was no traffic at all.
One of those present at this stage of the district tells this story: “While the levees were being built and plans being made for the development of the properties, Mr. Stemmons took a group of railroad officials, including Mr. Upthegrove of St. Louis — a Dallas boy, then president of the Cotton Belt Lines — on an inspection tour through the area. There was then no such thing as Industrial Boulevard; Commerce Street west of the river was a narrow road which overflowed whenever the river reached flood stage. The surrounding land was covered with cockleburs, blood weeds and willows. On reaching the site of the present intersection of the Triple Underpass and Industrial Boulevard, Mr. Stemmons remarked, ‘Gentlemen, in twenty years this will be the busiest intersection in Dallas.’ Mr. Upthegrove, an old friend, looked up and said, “Les, you don’t mean that?’ ‘I was never more serious in my life,’ was the reply. Mr. Upthegrove looked around him and shook his head, ‘Gosh,’ he remarked, ‘from cockleburs to congestion.'”
Such is progress! In less than twenty years this intersection was reported to be the busiest intersection of vehicle traffic in the state. Planning, hard work, and faith bring wonders to pass.
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Photo and text from Justin A. Kimball’s Our City –Dallas; Yesterday and Tomorrow (Dallas: Dallas Independent School District, 1954 — 2nd edition).
More on Leslie A. Stemmons here.
And an article from the months preceding the name-change from Industrial to Riverfront, here.
And if you, like I, wondered if “Mr. Upthegrove” was some sort of contrived Pythonesque name a la “Mr. Smoketoomuch,” it is, apparently, an actual surname. Good to know.
Click photo for larger image.
by Paula Bosse
If you have an interest in the Dallas of yesterday, you’ve probably seen the great color film footage shot in downtown in 1939, presented to us by Robert Wilonsky of The Dallas Morning News (link below). One of my favorite things from that wonderful footage is a neon sign for a business called Liquor Doctors, with “Good & Bad Liquors” below it. That would be good enough on its own, but it’s even better as seen in the film, because the “Good” and the “Bad” flash back and forth. Great.
Liquor Doctors (what a great name) seems to have started in late 1937 and eventually had at least three locations: 509 Jackson St., Commerce & Houston, and Cedar Springs & Harwood. Info is limited on these stores — I found a classified ad looking for “salesladies” for the Jackson St. store (“must be over 21”) and a report of a hold-up at the Commerce St. location (the manager was forced, at gun point, to turn over $41.86 from the cash register). Not that interesting. Until I found this tidbit from the great-granddaughter of the owner, describing the utterly ridiculous (and thoroughly entertaining) operating procedure of the Cedar Springs location in the June 2010 issue of Texas Monthly (see link at bottom of post):
Later he opened another Liquor Doctors on Cedar Springs that offered curbside service. The employees, dressed as doctors and nurses, would stroll out to the cars and dispense “medicine” six days a week.
Depending on your threshold for silliness, this is either clever or hokey. (I vote “clever.”)
For some reason the owner changed the name of the business (but why?!), and the next incarnation was simply his name, “Bob Ablin” (where, thankfully, you could still get “good and bad liquors”). I think he might have sold the liquor businesses and opened a soda fountain on Cedar Springs, a venture that lasted until January of 1948.
Below is an ad placed during a WWII whiskey shortage. There was a strict limit of one bottle per person. But beer? Until the cows came home. Bob sounds like a fun guy.
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Screen capture of the Liquor Doctors flashing neon sign from the really wonderful 1939 film footage purchased from Ebay by Robert Wilonsky (of The Dallas Morning News) and several others who joined together to share a cool slice of the city’s history with us. Watch the video and read Wilonsky’s Dallas Morning News article from April 23, 2014, here.
Quote about the Cedar Springs costumed curb service from the essay “Old Testament” — about growing up Jewish in Dallas — by Megan Giller-Dupe, Bob’s great-granddaughter. You can find the essay in Texas Monthly (June 2010), here. It includes a nice photo of Bob.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
by Paula Bosse
Studebaker Bros. have got you covered!
Whatever you need, Studebaker has it: horseless carriage or … just … well … carriage. “A complete line of vehicles.”
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Top ad from 1912; lower ad from 1894.
Studebaker info here.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
Cruisin’ ’70s-style…
by Paula Bosse
Back before the days of joggers and bikers, one used to be able to drive around White Rock Lake. All the way around. No dead ends, no detours. People used to cruise it on the weekends — the road would be packed solid. I assume the homeowners grew weary of this and put an end to things by having the road chopped up to prevent continuous cruising. Figures. Here’s a look at one weekend in April of 1972, from a series of photos taken by the Environmental Protection Agency as part of their Documerica project which documented areas of environmental concern. Things all look pretty good here, except for the final photo showing ducks paddling alongside trash at the water’s edge — a scene that might make the Keep America Beautiful Indian shed another tear.
A description of these photos (provided, I think, by the EPA):
City folk come in droves each weekend to once-isolated White Rock Lake. Some come to picnic, sail or fish. Some just want to be where the action is [man].
Another caption:
Once-unspoiled and rather isolated, White Rock has become a city dweller’s weekend mecca, attracting people looking for ‘action’ as much as those seeking relief from urban pressures.
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These photos — from the EPA’s Documerica project (“to photographically document subjects of environmental concern”) — can be found at the National Archives site, here.
Like outtakes from Dazed and Confused, man…. You can practically hear “Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl” wafting through the air.
Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
1893 class photo, Ross Avenue
by Paula Bosse
Above, fourth graders lined up in 1893 on the steps of the San Jacinto School, once located at Ross and Washington (now the site of the DISD Administration Building). All seem fairly glum. (At least they’re not toiling in factories like many other children of this period.)
Below, the sixth-grade class of 1899 seems slightly less bummed-out, perhaps because they’re on the brink of the much-anticipated 20th century. Those boys (and sadly probably only the boys) might well have been among the city’s business and political leaders during Dallas’ most explosive period of growth just a few short years later.
The San Jacinto School was designed by James E. Flanders and built in 1891 on two acres at the corner of Ross Avenue and Washington. It was demolished in 1948 to make way for the somewhat more severe (and perhaps a bit more interesting) DISD Administration Building.
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Top photo is from the wonderful historical photo blog Shorpy, and can be found here.
First photo of the school building is from Texas: Along the Line of the Texas & Pacific Ry. (Dallas: Texas & Pacific Railway, n.d. [1898]).
Last photo is from a website devoted to “Dallas’ First Architect,” James Edward Flanders.
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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.
Flashback : Dallas 