By Simon V. Simek —

Considering the rainy days we had last week after such a long dry spell, we thought it relevant to help tell the history of New Braunfels’ eternally erratic weather, and our long-standing feud with rushing water. Diving into the archives, we found some tremendous accounts of how our predecessors fared in their own times against the elements.

The drought of the 1950s is one of the worst, if not the worst, recorded in New Braunfels history. New Braunfels was still largely agricultural, and without modern water solutions, local farmers and ranchers struggled to yield crops and raise livestock. Caroline Stange sat down in 1982 as part of our ongoing Reflections program, a local ongoing oral history effort from the Sophienburg since 1976, to tell her story and detail her experience of the ‘50s drought and the flood of 1972.

Mrs. Stange moved here a little later in life, when she finally agreed to follow her soldier son who was stationed nearby in 1955. At first, she found New Braunfels to be exceptionally clean and friendly, but also incredibly dry and hot, even in January. She had come from California, where the flowers bloomed and the weather was fair, and Texas seemed like an arid land devoid of her beloved flowers. Day after day it was dry, and her ranching neighbors had taken jobs in town to make ends meet. She regretted her move and prayed that it would rain for just five minutes. Even Landa Park and Comal Springs dried up. Finally, in 1957, the rains came, in the form of a flood, but nonetheless Mrs. Stange was thrilled to see flowers and green.

1957 was not the only flood that Mrs. Stange experienced in her adopted home. She remembered vividly the 1972 flood that happened just a decade prior to the recording. It began with a 2:00 AM call from her neighbor, who fought the loud drops on her tin roof for attention. The neighbor had heard the police come by and order residents to evacuate their homes, a warning Mrs. Stange didn’t hear. They wondered where to go, maybe to her son’s home in McQueeney, but they believed it too far. This was for the best, as that day his home would get 18 inches of water inside of it. They tuned in to the radio to hear Herb Skoog notify them that shelter was available at the civic center. The electricity had gone out in the neighborhood, but they were able to navigate their way to the lights at the civic center. While there, they saw the damage that the flood had already caused, like the mother who had her baby swept from her arms and the elderly woman wrapped in blankets who had just stood on her kitchen sink in neck-high waters to be rescued through the kitchen window. They stayed the night and returned home the next day to find Camp Warnecke’s tea towels littered about in the trees. News would stream in the next few days of others who were lost, some of them friends and neighbors. Mrs. Stange’s home was undamaged, but the flood had already wrecked its havoc on her life.

Caroline Stange and her story help visualize the seeming cycle of floods and droughts that our piece of Texas endures constantly. The Torrey mills experienced a form of this cycle as well in the previous century, although the determination to defy nature is a little more surprising.

For whatever reason, fire, air, and finally water all plotted against the earth and stone of John Torrey’s riverside plot at the juncture of Comal Creek and Comal River. Today, this is the tube chute, but it was the Torrey family who built the first dam for power. John Torrey and his brothers hailed from up North but came to Texas as entrepreneurs who sold merchandise to incoming Texas settlers. Following their success, John Torrey acquired the doomed plot of nearly two acres in 1848. He built a gristmill (grain) and sawmill, and later added a factory that made goods for the home like doors and blinds. On November 14, 1861, the first disaster struck and the entire complex burned down.

He quickly replaced these losses with a four-story stone building. Soon after, machines for cotton spinning and looms were added to the top floor. This became the first cotton factory in Texas, and it began production in 1865. In 1869, a warning came, and a flood damaged the building and some machinery, but production could continue. Just two months later, a tornado ripped through town, and the Torrey mill’s top floor was destroyed along with all the machinery.

Rebuilding was underway for three years, and in 1872, just weeks before operations could resume, the mill was struck for the last time. The summer torrent came, as it so often does, and Mrs. Trappe recalled the incident in 1945: She was only sixteen, and it had rained over 12 inches the night before, washing away the newly built iron bridge over the Comal. She watched as John Torrey and four others tried to move some of the machinery and materials from the first floor to the second. But the dam had gone, and the water pushed the building off its foundation. As it was readying for its collapse, the five men made it to the roof and looked for any escape. The only option was to grab on the telegraph wires which crossed the river. All five successfully took hold, and were able to swing towards land, jump, and ultimately save themselves. It is said that Mr. Torrey bore his losses without a murmur of despondency, but soon after he left New Braunfels for good and started again in Hood County.

New Braunfels and her residents have long been afflicted by volatile weather and overflowing riverways. That is not going to change. It is up to us, current residents of Comal County, to find the solutions, whatever those may be, to ensure our homes are here to stay for future generations.

Sources: New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung, John F. Torrey and Brothers by Susan Morrison, Around the Sophienburg by Myra Lee Adams Goff, Reflections 287 (Caroline Stange).

“Around the Sophienburg” is published every other weekend in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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2026 Myra Lee Adams Goff Scholarship Award Essay – by Jaelynn Davidson

The Texas Hill Country was a stunning and dangerous arena of cultural conflict in the mid-19th century. To the Texas nobility of the Adelsverein, it was a fantasy of a “New Germany”; to the German peasants who arrived on the shores of the Texas coast, it was a last hope of a new life; but to the Penateka Comanche, it was the Comanchería, their ancestral domain. Although Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels is said to have founded New Braunfels, it was his successor, John O. Meusebach, whose brilliance of diplomacy ensured that Comal County would not only survive, but flourish. The Meusebach-Comanche Treaty of 1847 was the single most important event in the early history of the county, an extraordinary occasion of mutual respect and unbroken peace in the American frontier.

Upon John O. Meusebach’s arrival in New Braunfels in 1845 to assume the position of Commissioner General, he found a colony on the brink of disaster. The colony’s finances were in shambles, and the people were dying from disease and starvation. More urgently, the land grants that the settlers received were located far within Comanche territory, well north of the Comal Springs. Although the zeitgeist of the time was one of military conquest and displacement of Native Americans, the intellectual pragmatism of a scholar and bureaucrat like Meusebach dictated that if New Braunfels was to survive, it could not be an island of Europeans at war with their neighbors.

Meusebach went on an expedition with only twenty men as an entourage to the very heart of the San Saba hills. This was viewed as a suicide mission by most. However, Meusebach knew something that his contemporaries did not: the importance of “The Word.” He was determined to meet the Comanche chiefs, namely Buffalo Hump, Santa Anna, and Old Owl, without the Texas Rangers and the U.S. Army. This was a level of respect for the Comanche that was unheard of at the time.

The treaty that came out of this was revolutionary. It was not a treaty of surrender, but of co-existence. The Germans agreed to share their land and their resources, and in return, the Comanche agreed to allow the settlers to farm and travel through the area. Perhaps most importantly, the treaty allowed the Comanche access into the town of New Braunfels to trade. This brought a unique cultural exchange to Comal County, where Comanche men were often seen in the town plaza trading skins for German goods. This would have been unthinkable in other parts of Texas.

The importance of this occurrence cannot be overstated with regards to Comal County. While other frontier settlements were marred by decades of “Indian Wars,” New Braunfels was spared the bloodshed that defined the Texas borderlands. This gave them the space needed to concentrate on the development of the infrastructure that defines the county today: the mills along the Comal River, the Sophienburg, and the educational system. The treaty gave the area the literal and figurative “breathing room” that was needed for the German culture to take hold and thrive without being strangled by the specter of violence.

Today, the legacy of Meusebach’s diplomacy is incorporated into the very fabric of the identity of Comal County. It is a reminder that the history of the county is not simply one of European settlement, but of American adaptation. As Myra Lee Adams Goff so often said in her historical writings, the history of Comal County is the history of “grit.” It took grit to cross the Atlantic, but it took a different kind of courage – the courage of diplomacy – to walk unarmed into the hills to shake hands with a supposed enemy.

In sum, while the physical features of the New Braunfels heritage site – The Gruene Water Tower, the Faust Bridge, and the Comal Springs – are integral to our heritage, it is the Meusebach-Comanche Treaty that is the unseen foundation upon which all of these rest. John O. Meusebach’s decision to reject the status quo of violence in the 19th– century frontier in favor of a more peaceful approach has made Comal County a shining example of industry and culture. It is a testament to the fact that peace is not merely the absence of war but a function of respectful and courageous negotiation.

“Around the Sophienburg” is published every other weekend in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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I really haven’t lived through a major war, but my mom and dad did. I have heard their stories and they are very different because Mom lived on a ranch/farm north of Fredericksburg and Dad lived in New Braunfels. Myra Lee Adams Goff grew up with my dad and she described those times through the eyes of the child she was then. In light of the current world situation, I thought it would be good to reprise Myra Lee’s article and see how New Braunfels coped back then with the uncertainty and fear that such times engender. — Keva Hoffmann Boardman

Around the Sophienburg, December 27, 2006

By Myra Lee Adams Goff —

It’s the end of December and this pesky little song has entered my head again and won’t leave. “Let’s remember Pearl Harbor as we did the Alamo.” I’m back in Julia Odiorne’s fourth-grade class at Lamar School. Earlier, on December 7, 1941, a surprise attack on the U.S. fleet at Pearl Harbor had suddenly plummeted our country into World War II. We sang this song with gusto because as Texans we would never forget the Alamo and now we would be called on to “Remember Pearl Harbor” forever.

Miss Odiorne tacked a map of the world on the wall that she had gotten from the Weekly Reader, a newspaper for children. Every time Germany won a battle, she would place a little swastika on the map and for Japan it was a little white flag with a red “rising sun” in the middle. Naturally when the U.S. won, there were stars and stripes. For all that first year, there were almost nothing but swastikas and red suns, and that was scary.

We kept on singing and doing our part as children. The Junior Texas Rangers, as the children were called, collected scrap metal and even gum wrappers. New Braunfels was cleaned out of scrap metal. Newsman Roger Nuhn wrote that school children collected over a half-million pounds of scrap, including the cannons on Main Plaza. My Girl Scout troop collected string and I never knew why. We folded bandages, and I did know why. The Red Cross was very active in that endeavor.

A Civil Defense League was formed under the leadership of Mayor Walter Sippel. Citizens were assigned to air raid shelters in basements of schools, churches and public buildings. Now get this: Lamar’s basement is about 10 x 10 and there were about 350 people living in the area. We would be mighty cozy. Mock air raids, announced by the fire siren, were conducted on a regular basis. We were, after all, close to the many military bases in San Antonio.

The PTA at Lamar installed blackout curtains in our auditorium so that if there was a bomb dropped on New Braunfels, the children would be hidden. I never really understood that either, because we never were at school at night, but at least once a week, we were able to see our geography movies without the interference of the sun.

Rationing had become a way of life. Sugar, gasoline and tires were all rationed. A family was issued ration stamps according to the size of the family. Cookies were not as plentiful, Hershey bars were not to be found, and no frivolous driving could be done. If a tire went bad, just park the car in the garage for the duration of the war. My friends and I walked everywhere.

Every family was encouraged to plant a Victory Garden and the water rates were lowered for that project.

Right down on Main Plaza there was a Center for Service Men in the old Landa Building (present day Commissioners Court parking lot). Open to all servicemen and women, they would arrive on buses from San Antonio on weekends. The downstairs had a radio, nickelodeon, piano, pool tables, card tables and lots of food provided by local clubs. Upstairs there were 100 beds. Dances were planned at the center as well as at Landa Park. Thousands of servicemen and women would come to New Braunfels on weekends. In the end, 73,000 servicemen and women registered at the center.

Making money for the war effort was a big thing. The selling of war bonds was a huge activity and each county was expected to sell an allotted amount.

We sat in front of the radio as we now do the television. The news was always bad and as young teenagers, we listened to the terrible problems of Stella Dallas and One Man’s Family, two popular radio soap operas. “If you think you’ve got it bad, think about their problems.” Father Barber solved his family’s problems with a calming, “Yes, yes.” That was it.

When the war was over in 1945, the newsreels of the concentration camps that were in the movie theatres were shockingly real, and we knew then the importance of sacrifice. Almost 1,500 men and women served their country from New Braunfels, and sadly 38 gave up their lives.

“Around the Sophienburg” is published every other weekend in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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By Myra Lee Adams Goff —

“Have you heard? Old Squire Moeschen is dead!” So begins Hermann Seele’s narrative of a murder here in New Braunfels in 1855. Seele spun this true, gruesome tale in his book, Die Cypress, which is available at Sophie’s Shop.

Here’s the background: Christof Moeschen, born in 1806 in Thuringia, came to Texas along with his wife, Johanna, and a 9-year-old daughter, Friederike. The year was 1844. Seele says their small log cabin built in 1845 was on Comal Creek, and consisted of one room and a porch surrounded by a fence of cedar posts.

For all one knew, the family of three lived a quiet life, but all that changed in 1854 when the Moeschen’s only child, Friederike, married the shoemaker Carl Riebeling. The mother approved of the son-in-law, but the father did not. Hermann Seele performed the wedding and the young couple lived with her parents.

Unaccustomed to outdoor work, Riebeling became sick. Moeschen believed the son-in-law was just lazy.

When a baby was born to the young couple and died, Moeschen was so distraught about the death that any harmony that had come about because of the baby disappeared. Moeschen became abusive toward his family. The daughter no longer loved her father. She resented his abusiveness toward her mother and husband. As a result, Mrs. Moeschen and the Riebeling couple contrived a plot to get rid of the old man.

On the day of the murder in early September, 1855, the father returned home exhausted, called his son-in-law a loafer and then fell asleep in a drunken stupor. In the dark of evening, the daughter provided a light, and her husband and mother killed the old man with an ax. All that could be heard was the autumn wind wafting the withered leaves from the trees and a few raindrops.

The mother laid the father, who she said was “kaput,” on a mattress and sewed him into a bedspread so no one could see him. The ax was dropped to the bottom of a pond formed by the creek.

Day dawns. Outside, Mrs. Moeschen called to her neighbor G. Holzmann, a laborer going to work. She tells him her husband has died and gives him a string to give to Gerhard, who is to make the funeral arrangements. The string is the length of the body.

Gerhard went to the Moeschen home to make some arrangements and asked to look at the body. The family refused because they said he had already been sewed into a shroud. Upon returning to town, Gerhard said to Justice of the Peace Hermann Seele that he was suspicious, and Seele called for a coroner’s inquest because of the sudden death.

Funeral arrangements continued and friends began to arrive at the house for the funeral. Present were Pastor Eisenlohr of the German Protestant Church where the family were members, the choral society, many townspeople and the carriage with the empty coffin.

Inside, the inquest was performed. The corpse was unwrapped from a dark brown checkered bedspread (shroud), and then carried outside and put on a large table.  Drs. Remer and Koester prepared for an autopsy. (Yes, right there.) Since it was getting dark, lanterns had to be brought from town. After the autopsy, it was determined “the old man has been murdered. Arrest the people.” The three family members were put under arrest.

Through the dark woods, a ghastly procession carrying the casket, proceeded to the sheriff’s home in town. In the spring of 1856, the trial found all three guilty punishable by imprisonment with hard labor for nine years each.

Additional information to Seele’s narrative was written by Everett Fey in his research about the First Founders of New Braunfels. Volunteer Tom Call researched the trial and found that Johanne Moeschen died in prison, Friedrike was paroled in 1860 and Carl Riebeling paroled in 1862.

Picture this: The funeral is at the home, the body is brought outside under a tree, an autopsy is performed right there, and all the while, family, friends, jury, doctors, singing society are all witness to the whole macabre scene. Forensic science has come a long way.

This first appeared in 2012, but we decided to run it again under our True Crime Series.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum and Archives.

“Around the Sophienburg” is published every other weekend in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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Methodism is a Protestant religion whose roots can be traced way back to a preacher named John Wesley in England. John Wesley and his brother Charles, while at Oxford University in 1739, began a movement devoted to helping the underprivileged. Fellow students called them “Methodists” for the methods they used to carry out their evangelistic religion. Evangelism is the process of preaching to spread the word of Christianity.

Wesley did not have in mind to start a new religion. Both brothers were ordained ministers of the Church of England but because of their evangelistic methods, they were barred from speaking in most public places. They then resorted to preaching in homes or anywhere they could find an audience.

Another leader of Methodism was George Whitefield, also a minister of the Church of England. Eventually there was a parting of ways between the Wesley brothers and Whitefield over the subject of predestination. Whitefield was an advocate of predestination and the Wesley brothers were not.

In time, several branches of Methodism developed with these in particular: Methodist Protestant Church, Methodist Episcopal Church and Methodist Episcopal Church South. In its long history, by 1930 these three branches united and then merged with another group called the Evangelistic United Brethren. This union eventually led to the formation of the United Methodist Church.

Locally, a man named David Karbach, and a circuit riding Methodist preacher, John Wesley DeVilbiss, are given credit for starting Methodism in New Braunfels. David Karbach had heard the glowing reports about Texas given to newspapers by Prince Carl after he visited Texas in 1844. Due to bad conditions in Germany, Karbach believed his family would have a better life in Texas. So in December of 1845, Karbach with his second wife and their children, set sail on the ship Johann Dethardt and landed in Indianola. With all their worldly goods they had boarded the ship just before Christmas and arrived in Texas in March, 1846.

In New Braunfels, each settler was given one lot in town and a ten acre plot to grow vegetables and feed. It is believed that this 10 acre plot was in the vicinity of the later Locke Nursery near the Comal Springs. A need for expansion led Karbach to buy ranch land on the Hancock Road (present FM 306), about five miles from town. They kept the house in New Braunfels so that the children could go to school and they would join him on weekends. Three of the Karbach children, Fritz, John, and Emilie (later Klingemann) bought land in the area that became known as the Karbach Settlement. With time, this settlement encompassed over 2,400 acres.

While he was still in Germany, David Karbach had affiliated with the Lutheran Church, as many other Protestants did at that time. After arriving in Texas, the family began attending meetings held by the circuit riding Methodist minister, John Wesley DeVilbiss. Due to the lack of ministers in early Texas, circuit riding ministers were those who became ministers on horseback, traveling from one town to another. The New Braunfels Methodists were in a circuit that included Castroville, Cibolo Settlement, Solms, the area above Landa Park hill called Geberge and finally, Schumannsville. DeVilbiss divided his time between these four settlements.

Initially the first Methodist Church held their services in New Braunfels at the home of J. Hirschleben located in the Comaltown area.

By 1858 the group had built a small wooden church on the corner of now Union and Common Streets. Abram Gentry and Conrad Seabaugh, owners and developers of Braunfels Subdivision in Comaltown conveyed two lots to the trustees of the German Methodist Society of New Braunfels.

David Karbach and his family, particularly his son Fritz, became very active in this little church. Sunday School was held frequently in homes in the Karbach Settlement and at the church. Fritz in particular was instrumental in starting the Sunday School. Family tradition has a delightful story about Fritz and his marriage to Emilie Erck. It seems that when Fritz returned from the Civil War, he and Emilie were married in the Comaltown Church. The army band of occupation heard there was to be a wedding and they came and played the Wedding March. Fritz was the superintendent of the Sunday School for 25 years.

By 1890, the Comaltown Church was no longer used and the Karbach Settlement became the center of church activities. A new pastor, Rev. Merkel and his wife, then opened a Sunday School in the unused church and it was very successful, so the church building was once again used. This building served the Methodists for over fifty years until 1913.

Then in 1928, the old first church building was dismantled. Currently a SAC-N-PAC is located on the site with only an oak tree remaining, reminding people of the past.

In 1913 the Karbach Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church South was built at its present site on San Antonio St. The Karbach name was included, indicating that family’s involvement in this church. In 1940 another name change took place to Karbach Memorial First Methodist Church. The last renovation took place in 1952 and the church took its present name: First United Methodist Church.

Sixty pastors have served the Methodist church, 45 of which were circuit-riding ministers. The present minister is Rev. Jason Adams. As one of the oldest mainline churches in New Braunfels, it has been a congregation of Christian service to others, no doubt fulfilling the vision of John Wesley. Records show needs being met in the community, all the while tending to the needs of their own members. The church responded to times of tragedy in the community and was very active during the Great Depression and the two World Wars.

Aware of their historical role in New Braunfels history, the church has preserved its records from the start. Although they were written in German, they are being translated.

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Another downtown building, the Phoenix Saloon owners Ross and Debbie Fortune, are applying for a Texas Historical Marker. The Phoenix Saloon history really does live up to the story of the Phoenix, a legendary bird that builds its own funeral pyre, throws itself into the fire, lays an egg in the ashes and hatches a new Phoenix bird. This legend has been used often as a metaphor for rebirth or resurrection. The metaphor fits the local Phoenix Saloon.

The property at the corner of east Castell and west San Antonio Sts., according to the late Roberta Mueller, was owned by Valentine Sippel, her great grandfather. Valentine married Anna Ossman and they had three children: Kaytrina, who was crippled, Henry, who was killed in the Civil War, and finally son John, who lived to be 50 years old by his own choice, when he committed suicide.

John Sippel married into the successful Gruene family by marrying Johanna Gruene. After six children, the marriage ended in a bitter divorce, according to family members. Sippel had built the Phoenix Saloon in 1871 and moved into the second floor. Christian Hohmann and Henry Meier operated a bar and billiard room on the first floor of the two-story building. H.R. Schumacker operated a brewery in the basement from 1872 to 1875, selling a keg of beer for $2.25 and a glass for 5 cents, the going rate at the time.

About 40 different persons are associated with the proprietorship, bartending of the saloon, and sometimes restaurant, too many names to put in this column. The building was also called by several names until 1895 when it was finally called the Phoenix Saloon and Restaurant.

Trouble

An unfortunate incident occurred in 1885 when proprietor Walter Krause fought with a customer named James Alexander. Testimonies of two men in the saloon that day (Harry Mergele and Emil Schertz), stated that Alexander asked Krause how much he owed and Krause told him a quarter. Alexander said that he would pay him after pay day. Krause took exception to this and called him ugly names. Alexander left the building to go to Naegelin’s Bakery (apparently he worked there) and returned with one dollar, put it on the bar and retaliated with more ugly names. Krause jumped him from behind the bar and they exchanged blows. Alexander then left the bar as Krause was bleeding near the eye. Twelve days later Krause died as a result of the wounds.

Beer garden and chili

One of the attractions of the Phoenix was its beer garden facing San Antonio St. Women were welcome out there, but not inside. Women never went inside a saloon. The beer garden was between the saloon and the old Comal County Courthouse facing San Antonio St. The garden was also accessible from Castell St. at the back of the building next to the Ludwig Hotel which was located in what is now the parking lot of Chase Bank. Sippel had built a small pool with a fountain in the garden containing gold fish, a large catfish, and even a baby alligator. It was a popular gathering place downtown. Bells hanging from the trees summoned waiters from inside.

Another big attraction was William Gebhardt’s cafe at the back of the saloon. Gebhardt developed a sort of stew using ground up ancho peppers that he called Tampico Dust. This extremely popular concoction caused Gebhardt in 1892 to move to San Antonio where his brother-in-law, Albert Kronkosky, Sr. helped him organize the Gebhardt Chili Powder Co. Gebhardt’s wife was Rosa Kronkosky, sister of Albert. Incidentally Albert Kronkosky, Jr. was a very successful businessman who eventually owned the San Antonio Drug Co. as well as being a major stockholder in Merck & Co. Thus the Kronkosky Charitable Foundation was founded.

Prohibition

In 1895 a fire caused damage to the saloon as well as Fritz Maier’s “German Advocate” newspaper on the second floor, but the Phoenix rose again. After the reopening of the saloon there were many proprietors and “when everything was going right, up popped the devil – PROHIBITION”. The advent of prohibition dealt a blow to the saloon world. In NB as early as 1887 the second floor of the Phoenix had become the headquarters of the Anti-Prohibition movement for Comal County. Prohibition was a national issue so each state was to vote either for or against. New Braunfels held rallies around the Plaza and when the vote came up, Comal County voted 100% against prohibition. ”Gambrinus”, the legendary inventor of beer, had many followers in Comal County. At that time there were four breweries in New Braunfels: Rennert Brewery, Dampmann Brewery, Guenther Brewery and New Braunfels Brewing Co. This last one managed to stay open by producing a “near beer” called Busto.

During WWI, prohibition had linked itself with patriotism. First saloons were closed to soldiers and then in a burst of wartime feeling in 1918 the state of Texas voted in favor of prohibition. Rumors of an illicit brewery have circulated in NB but there is no proof. In the basement of the Phoenix there is a hole in the wall that some have speculated was an underground tunnel, but it turns out that it was probably a storage place for coal for the heating system.

Prohibition went into effect January of 1920, but the Phoenix Saloon closed down from 1918 to 1922. Then came two financial blows to the country, especially the government – the Great Depression and the fall of the stock market. One solution to these problems for the government was to repeal Prohibition so that taxes could be collected from the sale of liquor. Prohibition was repealed by 1933.

Building expansion

In 1922 the building was bought by Albert Ludwig, who expanded the building and added a third floor for the Masonic Lodge #1109. Jacob Schmidt bought the building in 1927 and operated a clothing store for 60 years. Several other businesses followed from 1996.

The latest rise of the Phoenix occurred when the Fortunes bought the property and brought it back to its original purpose, a saloon that has music and even serves chili. The Phoenix has risen again and remains a historic site!

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The fall and failure of the Stock Market in 1929 was the beginning of an era in American history called the Great Depression. The statistics of this period are staggering. Almost half of the people in the United States had no jobs, homes or food.

Leading up to this period after WWI was a time of tremendous social change and all the turmoil that accompanies change. It was the 1920s. Women were demanding voting rights and ethnic groups were demanding equal rights.

Then the banks failed, the Stock Market fell and those who had saved or borrowed money, lost everything. Big cities seemed to be hit the hardest for that was where the factories were.

By 1931, the Great Depression was in full swing. Texas governor Ross Sterling declared a “Smile Day” in November of that year supporting the American Legion’s effort to alleviate the suffering that first winter. As if smiling could solve all the problems!

Records show that locally there were approximately 400 people affected known to be unemployed and in desperate condition. Jobs were mainly for men so there were many more people affected.

An organization calling itself the Associated Charities Group was organized to help those in need. This organization included a group of organizations that could easily be applied to today’s world, for these civic-minded groups have always been active: American Legion and Auxiliary, Concordia Singing Society, First Protestant Church and Sunday School, Jacob Schmidt Store, Women’s Civic Improvement Club, Comal County, Christian Science Church, Masonic Lodge A.F.A.M., St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Business and Professional Women’s Club, NB Fire Department, A.J. Rabe, Child Welfare Club, Sts. Peter & Paul Catholic Church, Eastern Star, First Baptist Church, Methodist Church, Retail Merchants Association, and Lions Club. During that first year, 45 families were regularly helped.

Clothing drives were instigated by the Associated Christian Charities of America. Well known humorist Will Rogers performed in San Antonio and the proceeds were shared locally.

The local Lions Club was particularly busy. They distributed 1,400 pounds of beans that they had raised on their own experimental farm at the Comal County Fair Grounds. In addition, the club pledged a minimum of six full grown and fattened hogs a month. These hogs would be slaughtered and ready to be delivered to needy families.

Individuals and businesses had their own ways of helping out. For example, Kneuper Bros. Music Store next to the old Post Office did not repossess merchandise but allowed customers to pay what and when they could, sometimes as little as 25 cents a week. The brothers had added appliances to their merchandise so it was very important that customers could retain stoves, ice boxes and washers.

By the way, the Kneuper Bros. Store was the first business in town to have a television set in the early ‘50s. At night people would sit in front of the store window and watch the test pattern and a 5 minute film over and over.

Back to the 1930s. In my dad’s family there was a Depression story. Louis Adams, my grandfather, owned a butcher shop. During this terrible financial time, people would come in to buy meat without money. My grandfather told them that he would just write it on a slip of paper and they could pay when they could. I think he was able to do this because his source of meat was from his brother Bill Adams and the Adams Ranch. The Adams family helped a lot of people that way.

In 1931 Louis Adams died suddenly. My dad, who was left with the care of his mother plus his own family, was left penniless. Before Louis Adams died he had bought a three bedroom house on Comal St. which my grandmother then turned into a boarding house, mostly for her nieces. Their country school did not have a complete high school education, so they had to come to New Braunfels to finish school. The parents of these nieces brought ample produce from the farm to feed everyone at the house. Like my grandmother used to say, “You do what you have to do”. During this terrible time, President Herbert Hoover kept a message of resourcefulness as a way to solve problems. I think my family did that, but it wasn’t that easy for everyone.

One group of people that were affected were the farmers. Those who relied on crops and livestock were dealt another blow, the Dust Bowl and the boll weevil. The Dust Bowl was preceded by a long-lasting drought. Pictures of areas affected by this dust are hard to comprehend with clouds of dust moving across the land, pulling up plants by the roots leaving nothing but scorched earth.

Many of these farmers who had lost everything attempted to move towards the cities where they thought they had an opportunity to work and feed their families. When they got to the cities, there was no work and no transportation to return home. They survived on bread and soup lines supplied by various organizations, mainly the Red Cross. At the first opportunity they hopped on open train cars and moved from one place to another. These Hobos set up camps along the tracks, built fires to keep warm or cook whatever they were handed out in the cities.

Every big city had make-shift communities right outside of the city limits. They were called Hoovervilles because most Americans blamed the whole Great Depression on Pres. Herbert Hoover.

Here in New Braunfels, much of what we knew about the Depression came from newspapers and movies. Subtle little hints of the times can be found if you look hard enough at photographs of NB children at school during the 30s. No “store bought” clothes but dresses made of material from flour sacks. NB was fortunate to have the textile mill and Dittlinger Roller Mills. My generation even today sometimes suffer from what we call “Depression thinking”. We spent a long time appreciating handmade clothing articles. There’s a long way in between Homemade and Handmade.

Boys were lucky if they had cut-off pants from an older brother. None of the boys wore shoes and the girls went barefooted in the summer. I always wondered why, when we were constantly stepping on glass, sticker beds and rusty nails. We could have solved that problem by wearing shoes.

At the end of the 1930s the Great Depression was over, but taking its place in history was a period of much more magnitude when the US entered WWII.

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Before the Spaniards crossed the Rio Grande from Mexico into Texas, there were no roads, only trails made by Native Americans walking single file. The Spaniards were responsible for introducing cattle, burros, and horses into Texas. Can you imagine Texas without these animals? The Native Americans quickly saw the advantages to the horse and began following these individual trails dragging the 12 foot poles for wigwams and meat and skins on top. Thus, single trails became the early roads.

With the availability of wagons, transportation took a giant leap forward. By the mid- 1800s, primitive roads were fairly well established, mainly following tracks freshly made by wagons of emigrants along the Guadalupe River.

In 1845 Nicholas Zink was hired by the Adelsverein to survey the land purchased by Prince Carl that would become the settlement of New Braunfels. Prince Carl’s eleventh report back to the Adelsverein in Germany states that he had transferred half acre city lots and 10 acre farm plots to the immigrants in the settlement.

The first street in New Braunfels as described by Hermann Seele was comprised of a wagon track road from the present Nacogdoches Street after crossing the Guadalupe to the highest point on Comal Creek, the area where the Sts. Peter and Paul Church is located. The distance is approximately a mile and a half long.

Historian Oscar Haas states that the earliest maps showing street names were found in the first book of Comal County deeds in 1848-49. Only two streets were named – Seguin Strasse and San Antonio Strasse. These names were used because they ran in the general direction of these two towns. Both towns were older than New Braunfels. After that Comal Strasse was named parallel to the river. Nacogdoches Road or Camino Real was on the earliest maps.

The early maps showed nameless streets at the time and referred to them merely as Strasse (street). Eventually the main streets were Mill Street, named after the Torrey Mill situated on the banks of the Comal. Next to and parallel to Mill St. was Bridge Street, leading down to the Comal Bridge. Another early street was called Zink Strasse, named after the surveyor Nicholas Zink. A street that is no longer there was called Yankee Strasse after the Connecticut Yankee, John Torrey. This street ran along the Torrey Mill site. A street from the Market Plaza to the Comal River was named Solms but later changed to South Market.

By 1847, the Comal County Commissioners Court appointed men to act as road masters and to construct necessary roads. Road construction was by citizens petitioning and doing the work. A road tax by the Texas Legislature was passed in 1852 to finance road construction. Each county could have their citizens vote on whether the road tax should be levied in their county, but the tax election failed in Comal County, so roads were paid for and constructed by community-minded men.

In 1854, mile posts were set on Comal County roads. There are two surviving, one in Landa Park along Fredericksburg Road and the other at the intersection of Post Road and Gruene Road. Post Road is short for Postal or perhaps Military Post.

Streets are traditionally named after people important to the area, like Meriwether or places like Seguin, or functions like Mill or Bridge. An exception to this pattern occurred across the Comal in an area called Comaltown. At the end of Bridge Street at the Comal River was a low-water crossing leading into Comaltown. River crossings were always at the shallowest part of the river. This crossing was shallow and narrow. A bridge was made by cutting two pecan trees on each side of the river, falling on an island in the middle of the water. This island disappeared after the construction of Clemens Dam. Maps show that this bridge led from NB to Comaltown.

Comalstadt, or Comaltown, was a separated settlement from the mainland of New Braunfels, however, separated only by the Comal River. Comaltown had been laid out by Daniel Murchison in 1846. It was a separate settlement until New Braunfels was incorporated by the legislative act of May 11, 1846 and then Comaltown was joined to New Braunfels. In 1850 forty-five citizens petitioned to become separate from the city and change the boundaries of the settlement. The petition was rejected so Comaltown remained a part of New Braunfels. I have three ancestors who signed that petition, Heinrich Koehler, Jacob Rose, and Johann Georg Moeller.

A person who had a big influence of the future of Comaltown was J.J. Groos who plotted out the first subdivision in Comaltown called Braunfels. Groos had been educated in Europe and emigrated in 1845. He was well qualified to do this surveying since he had set out the boundaries of Comal, Bexar and Kendall Counties. He was the County surveyor and made maps for the City of New Braunfels.

In 1862 he had been elected County Clerk, making him an automatic Confederate agent. After the Civil War, all elected County officials were ousted by the Provisional Government. In 1865 Groos found himself without a job so he moved to San Antonio. He was eventually elected commissioner of the General Land Office.

Braunfels subdivision lots were ready to sell in 1868. Is it deliberate or accidental that so many of the street names in Braunfels had some connection to the Civil War? There are 28 blocks in the subdivision with 12 lots in each. Main boundaries are North St., Union St., South St., and East St. Let your imagination grasp this: The North and South are joined together by Union. The word Common has many meanings but one that fits is “belonging equally to more than one”. Each block is divided by an alley. How’s that for separation? I heard years ago that at the end of Camp St., close to the Fairgrounds, there was an army camp ground during the Civil War. I can’t prove that. Then there’s Grant St. and Houston St. and Washington St. thrown in for good measure. Just outside the subdivision is the greatest of all – Liberty.

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The first July 4 celebration in New Braunfels took place in 1845, just four months after the first emigrants crossed the Guadalupe into what would be the “Neu Heimat” (New home). A lot has happened historically since that first Independence celebration. For one thing, two statues were placed on the Main Plaza commemorating the men who fought in the Civil War and World War I. This is their story.

One statue located on the Main Plaza is called “Spirit of the American Doughboy”. Doughboy became a nickname for American soldiers in World War I and it stuck. No one knows where the name comes from but the term supposedly goes back long before the Civil War. In WWI both Americans and British soldiers were called Doughboys. Originally the term was not a compliment. Herman Melville in “Moby Dick” calls the cabin steward a doughboy suggesting a negative comparison to the sun burnt whalers and harpooners. Later the US Army cavalry looked down on the infantry calling them Doughboys, referring to the shape of the infantrymen’s buttons on their jackets that looked like dumplings .Whatever, it was not a compliment and mostly mocked the American infantryman. After WWI, Doughboy became a popular name for all American troops. This changed by WWII when American service men were called G.I.s or Yanks. Doughboys are now mostly associated with WWI.

Doughboy (we’ll call the statue that name) was placed on the Main Plaza in 1937 in observance of the 19th anniversary of the Armistice of WWI. It is in full uniform complete with pack, helmet, grenade and rifle. The granite base contains tree stumps and barbed wire. There it remained for 49 years until it was run over by an inebriated driver in 1986. The statue broke into five pieces, losing its head, both arms and half a leg. A clever Herald writer quipped “A farewell to arms”.

When the statue was knocked off of its rather large base, an unexpected tombstone was revealed on which the statue stood. It had an inscription on it: “T. Stokely M. Holmes, born Aug 21, 1828, died July 28, 1905. A kind affectionate husband, a fond father and a friend to all”. How this tombstone became part of the Doughboy is not known. Looking up that name in Ancestry.com, one finds this person buried in the Tuttle Cemetery in Guadalupe County: “Stokely M. Holmes, b Aug 21, 1828 and d July 28, 1905”. Obviously the Doughboy tombstone was rejected because it had incorrect information. It has rested under Doughboy since 1937.

Who was the sculptor of Doughboy? E.M. Viquesney was the sculptor of the cast zinc statue. He was a “chip off the old block” because his grandfather, Charles Alfred Viquesney was a stone carver in France who came to the US in 1842. Then Charles Alfred’s son, also Alfred, followed in his father’s trade with a stone carving business, making monuments and carvings of angels, crosses and other figures. These figurines were very popular as early decorations of gravesites. Viquesney, the sculptor of Doughboy, learned the business from his father.

Viquesney designed monuments at Clark’s Monument Works. He went on to design and sculpt many other memorials during his lifetime, too many to name here. They ranged from a Confederate War Memorial to his last sculpture in 1946 titled “Last of the Comrades”. All of his sculptures honored war heroes. Sadly, following completion of “Last of the Comrades”, Visquesney took his own life.

In 1921, the Doughboy sculptor won a national American Legion award for design. With the success of the Doughboy statue he received orders all over the United States for replicas. In Texas alone this Doughboy can be seen in Canyon, Crowell, Ft. Worth, Grosebeck, Lufkin, Sinton, Wichita Falls, Vernon, Texarkana and New Braunfels.

With this success, he produced 12 inch replicas of this statue. This is a common practice for sculptors and he sold as many as 25,000 of these miniatures. One of the miniatures was given by Viquesney to President Warren Harding and one was given to Gen. George Pershing. He also made lamps, and candleholders and incense burners in the shape of the statue .The last Doughboy statue was produced in 1942. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if there was one of these miniatures in someone’s attic right here in New Braunfels.

Mr. and Mrs. E.A. Clousnitzer had originally presented money in 1937 to the local American Legion to purchase both the Doughboy statue and another statue placed on the south side of the Plaza called “To the Memory of our Fallen Soldiers of the Civil War 1861-65”, honoring all soldiers of that war. The statue actually honors both sides of the Civil War, the Confederacy and the Union, because both sides in this conflict in Comal County lost soldiers in that war.

Another move took place when New Braunfels was getting ready to celebrate its Sesquicentennial in 1996. After refurbishing both statue soldiers and replacing stolen guns, they were placed on the same side of Main Plaza and rededicated in 1997. Both statues are now on the north side of the Plaza. Does this placement seem a little confusing to you? This might help: Hermann Seele said that when Nicholas Zink was plotting out the streets of NB, he followed the wagon trails, more or less. If you go to Main Plaza with a compass, you will find that North and South Seguin actually go in a northwest and southeast direction and West and East San Antonio go in a southwest and northeast direction. I suggest that you just go down there and find the statues yourself.

When you go to downtown to see the Sophienburg’s July 4th Parade, make your acquaintance with these two statues and remember the ones they honor.

The Sophienburg July 4th celebration begins with the lineup of parade participants at 8:30 at the Sts. Peter & Paul parking lot. The Community Band plays on the Plaza at 8:34. Then a Commemorative Air Force fly-over should take place at 9:10, followed by the parade and program on the Plaza. Call 830-629-1572 for parade entry reservations.

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A letter written on May 2, 1845, two months after the first settlers arrived in New Braunfels, gives us details of those first two months in NB. The letter was written by Lt. Oscar von Claren to his sister in Germany. The end of von Claren’s life overshadows the optimism conveyed by him, as you will see.

When Prince Carl left to go back to Germany, amid festivities and cannon fire at the site of the Sophienburg, he offered to take 69 letters back to Germany. Mail at that time took three months or longer. According to author Everett Fey, writer of “First Founders”, there are 14 letters preserved and transcribed “and it is uncertain whether the rest of the letters were delivered to families. There is a good possibility that these 14 letters were used as advertising by the Adelsverein to promote their immigration project.”

The preserved letters are mostly positive about the project, so what happened to the other letters that were perhaps not so positive? Were only the letters of satisfied customers published?

Letters alleging that the Adelsverein was irresponsible in caring for the immigrants were also published in the newspapers. The Adelsverein fought back with replies by one of their own, Count Carl of Castell. He demanded publication of letters giving the “voice of truth” or the positive view.

One of those 14 letters was Oscar von Claren’s sent to his sister, Augusta, and she, in turn sent it to the Adelsverein. It was, no doubt, of value to them.

Oscar von Claren from Hanover arrived on the ship Apollo and came inland with the first group of emigrants. As a young single man, von Claren was chosen by Prince Carl for the responsible position of being in charge of artillery in Prince Carl’s Militia. He organized them to protect the emigrants, both on the way and in the settlement.

In his letter to his sister, von Claren described his arrival in New Braunfels in April 1845 and then of the celebration that took place in early May when Prince Carl was getting ready to leave for Germany. He said that at the Sophienburg (fortress), festive speeches were made and the cannons fired.

At the time of year of his arrival, it was too late to put in a garden on the lot that had been given to him. He put in a cow pen out of logs where the calves stayed while the cows roamed freely. It was not necessary to feed them. In the evening, the cows would automatically roam back to their calves in the pen. Even people that had no houses had pens with cows. Anyone who had more than 25 cows had to pay a fee to the state of Texas. Von Claren was waiting to get chickens; “four hens for $1.00 and a rooster for a third of a dollar”. “He who has cattle, chickens and a livable house has everything” he told his sister. Milk, eggs and butter were the main diet.

Von Claren was aware of unfamiliar noises, like the cutting of trees, plowing and the building of huts. He arose at five in the morning, lit a fire, dressed, cooked tea, baked bread and ate breakfast. After 11 o’clock in the morning the heat was unbearable so everyone stopped working. At this time he cooked dinner and then at three o’clock went to work again. After working, the evening meal was prepared and took a long time because corn meal bread had to be baked every day. It tasted bad when it was not fresh. It got dark around seven o’clock. Twilight, like in Germany, was not known in Texas and it got much darker. Von Claren told his sister that what he needed more than anything was tools, carpenter tools and tools for gardening. Also he needed seeds, fruit seeds of all kinds, lentils, and grape vines. He wished he had brought more with him. An immigrant only paid for the transportation from Bremen and the Adelsverein provided everything else to the colony.

He told his sister that during the land trip in from the coast, many of his clothes and part of his weapons were damaged due to not having them packed in boxes encased in tin. He now sleeps on animal hides and covers with a woolen cover instead of the linens he is used to.

About 300 Tonkawa Indians visit the settlement daily. They are at peace with the Germans and come into town to trade. Von Claren traded animal skins, hides and leopard fur. He traded gun powder, colorful chinz and calico, red and white beads, but not yellow or green (curious), and all kinds of toys made of tin or German nickel silver. Turtles and snakes demand high prices and he intended to sell them.

Their clothing was very thick and long boots were indispensable, but very expensive. He praised the beauty of the area, pretty forests next to the Guadalupe River, hills and prairies covered with wild flowers. Wood like cypress and cedar trees emit a magnificent odor and remind him of pencils. The beautiful blooms of the cactus would be greatly admired in Germany. At night, the air is filled with lightning bugs.

(Here’s the catch:) One must become accustomed to the great heat and large unpleasant animals that inflict deadly wounds, and the numerous rattlesnakes, some ten feet long and probably 15 years old. There are also a large number of alligators, so bathing in rivers is dangerous. He shot a 14 foot alligator. Tarantulas, large spiders that “runs around with the snakes and scorpions” in the woods, have a disagreeable stinger. Finally there is a caterpillar that crawls over the skin.

In May of 1845, there are 400 people living in the settlement. He would like to have friends and family with him “with whom he could cultivate a companionable relationship”.

By the time his sister received his letter, von Claren had been brutally killed and scalped near Live Oak Springs. He and two companions were returning to NB from Austin and while camping, a band of natives attacked the three. Wessle got away and led the Rangers to the site of the massacre. Von Claren and von Wrede were buried there.

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