Seldom do individuals have clubs or anything named after them. A person becomes famous because of something outstanding that they have done for the advancement of society. All you historians out there and those that have a passing interest in history know the name Ferdinand Jacob Lindheimer. This extremely interesting person has been the object of my curiosity for quite a while.

Lindheimer, known as the “Father of Texas Botany”, has 38 plants containing his name. Several organizations in New Braunfels have his name as their chapter names, and his picture is larger than life on a downtown mural. He is buried in the Comal Cemetery and his Texas Centennial headstone was given by the State of Texas. What did he actually do for the community? Let’s look first at his background:

Ferdinand Jacob Lindheimer was born the 21^st of May, 1801, in Frankfurt am Maine in Germany. He came from a wealthy family and was educated at the Prussian University at Bonn. At age 25 he left the university to teach at a boys’ school. At this school in 1832, a student riot occurred. At that time there was much dissatisfaction in the way German states were governed, especially among the young people. In this case, the government just closed down the school and the teachers were asked to leave the area. Lindheimer and other educated men decided to emigrate to the United States.

Eight men of high intellect and high education level migrated to a farm called Belleview Farm in Illinois. These men, including Lindheimer, soon tired of the life of idleness and headed south, bound for New Orleans with the idea of coming to Texas . He then boarded a ship and eventually landed on the Mexican coast at Vera Cruz where he started botanizing (collecting plants) in a big way. He stayed there for 18 months.

Lindheimer then involved himself in the Texas War of independence. He enlisted in April, 1836, and was discharged December 1837. His certificate of discharge describes him as a teacher, 5’8” tall, with dark hair and blue eyes. After this military stint, he bought a small farm outside of Houston, but in his own words, ‘was a failure at farming”. Farming and botanizing are two different things and he preferred botanizing.

In 1841 Lindheimer began his correspondence with well-known Illinois botanist Dr. George Englemann. This acquaintance became a lifetime of selling plants to Englemann, who as a professor and doctor, had the means to publish the information that Lindheimer sent to him. Lindheimer showed from the start that he had a keen ability to collect, describe in words and even illustrate plants. A letter to Englemann mentions a woman in Lindheimer’s life. She is not named. He calls a person named Ann his child. No evidence of a child has been found in records. There are no birth records. Could Ann be the woman?

Lindheimer met Prince Carl at Industry not far from Houston. He decided to join the Adelsverein. In that group was Rev. Louis Ervendberg and their friendship and interest in botany lasted their lifetimes.

The Adelsverein granted Lindheimer a large section of land for the services performed for that organization. Now he could botanize full time. The Lindheimer house that you see on Comal St. is on the site of the original log cabin. Maps show a large area around this area called the Botanical Garden. He married Eleanore Reinarz who according to writer Minetta Altgelt Goyne in her book “A Life among the Texas Flora”, was “sometimes difficult”. He was becoming a valuable member of the community “despite what seems to have been some eccentricities”.

In early fall of 1845 famed botanists Asa Gray and George Engelmann published results of Lindheimer’s 1843 and 1844 collections. There are 38 plants named after him and the one that we know best is “Lindheimeria texana” (or Lindheiumeria texensis), the Texas yellow star. It’s not difficult to see why this flower is so popular.

In 1850, Lindheimer became editor and eventually owner of Neu Braunfelser Zeitung. The first issue was on Nov. 12, 1852. The newspaper had difficult financial times the whole time he was editor. During the Civil War, he was influential in the secessionist movement. Although against slavery, he was an adamant “states righter” and did not want the federal government making decisions for the state. Comal County was the only predominantly German community that joined the Confederacy. The decision to secede from the union was a controversial one.

He retired from the newspaper in 1872. He is remembered for more than being the “Father of Texas Botany”. Always on the side of freedom, he was an advocate of education for all. He was on the committee pushing for the establishment of the NB Academy and for the Texas Legislature to levy taxes for the financial support of public schools.

When Ferdinand Lindheimer died in 1879, he was buried in the Comal Cemetery surrounded by family members and the flowers that he loved. Most of the information in this article came from Goyne’s book, “The Life among the Texas Flora” available in Sophie’s Shop at the Sophienburg. Goyne’s footnote explanations read almost like “the rest of the story”.

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The next time you drive downtown, take a look at the old IGN train depot at the intersection of San Antonio Street and Hill Avenue. Although it’s now a museum, with just a little knowledge and imagination, you can transport yourself back to the olden times known as the Railroad Era.

Back when Texas was the Republic of Texas, in 1836, the first congress chartered the first railroad company, the Texas Rail Road, Navigation, and Banking Co. to construct railroads where needed. This was ten years after the first US railroad was chartered. The company lasted two years but the railroad was never built. Other companies were chartered, but still no railroads.

In 1847, Gen.Sidney Sherman acquired lots in Harrisburg, acquired northern capital and established the Buffalo Bayou, Brazos and Colorado as the first railroad in Texas. By the end of 1861, there were nine operating railroads in Texas, mostly in East Texas. One was the International & Great Northern (IGN). Jay Gould was the controlling stockholder. This name would come up later in New Braunfels history. Politics played a big part as far as where railroads would locate.

After the Civil War and Reconstruction, new lines formed and some merged. In 1875, New Braunfels, as well as other small towns, saw the advantage of a railroad going through their town. Brian Weidner, who has done extensive research on railroads in NB, states that in the New Braunfelser Zeitung, editor Anselm Eiband, began writing about attempts to offer the railroads cash and property to build in NB.

In the meantime the International & Great Northern Railroad in 1879, requested right-of-way land to build a depot in NB. The railroad was able to acquire town lots 10 & 17 from Ferdinand and Anna Nolte. Lot 10 faced San Antonio Street and Hill Street and Lot 17 faced Mill Street. The railroad was in business! The first freight passenger trains entered NB in the fall of 1880.

The first ticket office was a store front owned by Mr. Nolte’s business on San Antonio Street. IGN constructed a small depot and the old store front was removed.

The era of the railroad brought tremendous changes to the economy of Texas and to New Braunfels as well. Many small towns that were overlooked by the railroad completely disappeared. A big advantage of the presence of a railroad was that goods could be brought in and local goods could be sent out. Tourism flourished in towns, like New Braunfels, that had natural beauty.

Remember Jay Gould? The story goes that his daughter, Helen Gould, visited the Harry Landa estate in 1898. According to Landa, Miss Gould liked the beauty of Landa Park so much that she proposed to him that the IGN build a spur track into Landa Park, which they did.

The second railroad line into NB, the Missouri, Kansas, Texas Railroad, while extending their tracks from NB to San Antonio, also built a station plus spur track into Landa Park. The railroads were helping New Braunfels become a tourist destination. In his book, “As I Remember”, Harry Landa made this comment:

“Beer, bathing, boat riding, bands, and dancing, and other recreations were enjoyed by picnickers and Landa Park became one of the most popular resorts of the Southwest.”

The president, Theodore Roosevelt, made a political speech from the rear of a Pullman car passing through NB, and the whole city turned out to see this spectacle complete with a children’s choir, a decorated station and an assembly of young women dressed as Roughriders.

Pressure was on by the public for the railroad to build a larger, better depot to accommodate all the visitors who were arriving. In 1907 the firm of Moeller, Mordhurst & Blumberg were contracted to manufacture cement blocks to build a new depot. Adolph Moeller was responsible for building many public buildings and Victorian homes in NB, and Mordhurst was the one who produced the cement blocks and also decorated the graves with concrete-filled shells. There are at least five homes still standing that were built of Mordhurst’s cement blocks in New Braunfels and also many graves in Comal Cemetery.

Brian Weidner’s research reveals that the new station was made of concrete-colored tiles with red grout between the tiles. There were ornamental wrought iron details supporting the roof. The large entrances were surrounded by diamond latticed glass transoms and side panels. Look for these features. You may have to get out of the car to see all the details.

The construction of the interstate highway system had a big effect on the railroad and its station. Eventually by the 1960s, passenger service was discontinued and then replaced by Amtrak.

The city was given the IGN station by the railroad in 1986 with a yearly lease on the land. The same year, the city leased the station and property to the New Braunfels Historic Railroad & Modelers Society who run it as a free museum to the public.

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The third weekend in May I realized how hard it was to preserve historic customs. We can remodel, renovate and preserve buildings, bridges and artifacts. Even history is preserved when we write it down. But the arbitrary laws of custom are transient. In other words,” at random” customs are changeable.

Anhalt in the western area of Comal County has held on to old traditions with their Maifest and Octoberfest. Members of the Comal County Historical Commission went to Maifest and observed these old traditions first hand. The Anhalt Association is interested in getting an historical marker on their property. Preserving the history of Anhalt got a big boost when Harvey Schaefer in 2000 wrote the history using the minutes of the organization going back to when they were still written in German.

Comal County was created in 1846. The area of Anhalt in Comal County is typical of other hill country areas with rocky terrain covered with elm, mesquite, oak trees and abundant water. Farming is possible but ranching is preferable.

Way back in 1859 this area was known as Krause’s Settlement founded by Conrad Krause and sons with a store, residence and dancehall. A Post Office was established in 1879 and the settlement name changed to Anhalt, meaning “stopping place”, because that was what it was. Farmers gathered at the store to discuss their common problems, one of which was what to do about cattle rustlers that had become a big problem particularly after the Civil War. Since there was no fencing in the area, stock ran loose.

The solution to this problem was to form the Germania Farmer Verein in 1875. Thirty- five farmers met earlier at Krause’s store and decided to organize to protect their livestock by branding the letter “G” on the left shoulder of the cattle, along with the rancher’s own brand. This practice eliminated the cattle rustling problem. The all male organization leased and later purchased nearby land for their hall (across the highway from the original Krause’s Settlement). Over the years the organization built and added on to many sections of the building and in 1908 the large hall was built. It has a well-polished floor and unique arches in its architectural design.

The Spring Festival began as an annual event in May when planting was complete. Then a Fall Festival was held in October when harvesting was finished. Fairs were held to exhibit stock and vegetables, however, this practice ceased when the Comal County Fair organized in 1898.

Now let’s look at the customs that have been preserved:

The 2013 Maifest began at Anhalt Hall at noon. Food was served all day and the menu hasn’t changed much over the years. Due to a lack of refrigeration in the old days, nothing could be served that would spoil. Several men were making meat out back – potroast and sausage. Also sauerkraut and German potato salad which is served warm with no mayonnaise were served. There were two modern inventions served from cans – peas and peaches. In the old days food was served family style, but now by plate only.

Here is the real reason for the Maifest- the dance. Starting at noon the atmosphere is strictly German. An Oompah band plays German music until 4:00 o’clock at which time there is a Grand March. After that the music and crowd is strictly western. This is, after all, ranch land. Along the side of the wall western straw hats are for sale. At one time hats were not allowed on the dance floor.

Signs on the wall make it very clear as to what is acceptable on the dance floor and what is not. “No shorts, pedal pushers, blue jeans allowed on the dance floor”. That custom was obviously modified because there were many clad in blue jeans, shorts and boots.

Another sign posted says: “Indecent, uncommonly dancing in the hall is strictly prohibited.” Since there was none of the above taking place, I have a feeling they mean that one. Even the Chicken Dance and Put Your Little Foot were done with utmost precision.

Couples danced polkas and waltzes in a circle around the hall. Some danced holding babies and small children twirled around the outside of the moving circle. In the old days there was an area in the corner where children were bedded down. These dances, after all, lasted way into the night and it was a long way home.

Do you remember Gerhard and Regina Adam who married on our Plaza during our Sesquicentennial in 1995? He was representing Braunfels, our sister city. He and Regina came to Anhalt with Dr. Fred Frueholz. The Adams glided across the floor. He told me later that this old time polka and waltz was no longer done in Germany except occasionally in Bavaria. So Anhalt is preserving a custom brought from Germany that is no longer preserved in Germany.

A real treat was a performance in costume by the Austin International Folk Dancers. They performed several old dances like the Ländlar, Schottish.

A tee shirt for sale read “Wo in Himmel ist Anhalt? “ (Where in heaven (?) is Anhalt? I know where it is and I’ll be back the third Sunday in October for Octoberfest.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

I recently found a note in Oscar Haas’s archive collection, “Zeitung, Thursday, July 6, 1899. Use story some time concerning a jailbreak.” He never published the story.

I felt like he was “speaking from the grave” and I should look into it.

The first purpose-built Comal County Jail was a log structure constructed at the location of the current Elks Lodge’s parking lot on South Seguin Street. It was used until 1854, when a new jail was built at what is now 509 W. Mill St.

The earliest reported jailbreak in the New Braunfels Zeitung was from the Mill Street jail in February 1859. The prisoner, William D. Harris, had committed a brutal murder in Seguin. Eight days prior to the escape, the sheriff heard unusual sounds from the cell. Opening the door, he discovered that Harris had broken free of his chains and that an attempt had been made to break through the cell wall, from both the inside and the outside, with a crowbar and a file. Two men were put on constant guard outside the building. At 11 p.m. on the night of the breakout, about 15 men on horseback descended on the jail and broke the boards and one lock of the two oak doors. The chain and cuffs attached to prisoner Harris were broken off with a heavy hammer.

Don’t know if Harris was ever caught. That’s research for another time.

In 1866, a suspected horse thief and another prisoner attempted an escape by creating a hole in the cell wall. Fortunately, the sheriff arrived before the hole was big enough for the escapees. The two men were put in irons.

An extremely inventive jailbreak was attempted in July of 1874. Two prisoners used the bacon they had been given for supper to grease and set fire to the heavy oak planks of the door that separated their cells. One of the escapees got through and began working to make a hole in the outer jail wall. The second man began coughing from the smoke and got stuck in the burned opening. Prisoner One soon went back and pulled his comrade through. The process scraped quite a lot of skin from the man’s torso; he refused to help make the second hole in the outer wall. Daylight brought the sheriff and ended their creative jailbreak.

Eventually, the Mill Street jail proved inadequate both in size and reliability. In 1879, a new two-story cut-limestone jail was erected behind the 1860 Comal County Courthouse (located where the Chase Bank building is on Main Plaza). This jail was built with an iron roof and doors and cost the county about $10,000; it could hold 20-30 prisoners.

Crime must have been on the rise.

In a humorous, Andy Griffith-like moment, a prisoner escaped from the brand-new jail by simply walking out of his unlocked cell and through an unguarded front door. He was caught later across the bridge in Comaltown. The editors of the newspaper printed the question, “Why don’t we close the doors?”.

The year 1866 saw another jailbreak. James Alexander, incarcerated for the involuntary manslaughter of Walter Krause, simply disappeared from the jail. On the morning of the escape, he was heard playing his flute. When lunch was brought in to him, he was gone. The sheriff, who was in Seguin at the time of the jailbreak, located Alexander in San Antonio the next day. The newspaper never shared how the jailbreak was accomplished.

Now the 1899 story that motivated me to check out this subject. The Neu Braunfels Zeitung article is quite tongue-in-cheek.

Three prisoners escaped from “our break-in and escape-proof county prison” in the wee hours of the morning when the sheriff was away. The men had not been sentenced so were not locked in a cell. Having freedom to move in the corridor between the cells and the prison wall, they managed to fashion an axe with a piece of iron attached to a broken broom handle. With this implement, and the use of a water hose used to clean the cells, the three “very cleverly” used the water hose to soften the mortar and then scrape it away so that the stones of the wall could be pulled in or pushed out without much effort. The last paragraph is priceless:

“These guys really deserve recognition for their job. They probably didn’t want the free room and board from the County any longer… But rumor has it that the intelligent escapees, after celebrating July 4th outdoors, will want free quarters and will decide to break into the prison again. However, all precautionary measures have been taken to prevent this…”

I do love a journalist with a wicked sense of humor.

The 1879 limestone jail was replaced by an addition to the Comal County Court­house in 1931, although it wasn’t torn down until 1958. I found several references to jail­breaks from this newest jail. A rather spec­tac­ular one occurred in 1963. Two prisoners joined forces and escaped via a large steel trapdoor to the third-floor roof. The trap­door was chained to a steel ladder which was bolted to the concrete ceiling of the jail. The two prisoners worked the large steel bolts out of the concrete enough to slide the ladder and trapdoor over to give them space to escape. From the roof, they used an angled corner of the court­house to climb down the rock face to the roof of the first floor. There, they connected a rope made from two blankets and a jacket to the downspout of the gutter. Once on the ground they each went their own way. The other jail inmates said the breakout occurred around 9:45 p.m. The jail­break was not discovered until morning at 8:30 a.m. by a passer­by who saw the blankets fluttering on the building and informed the jailer. The alarm was sounded and by 9 a.m., one of the fugitives was rearrested at his home in Comaltown. The other, who had served time for murder, had been waiting to be trans­ferred to Mexico by immigrat­ion authorities. It is thought he may have made his way home on his own.

Thanks for the nudge, Mr. Haas. It really did need to be used in a story.

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

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg and Mark Rahe —

I love the buildings in New Braunfels. I especially like the ones in downtown New Braunfels and Comaltown. Built over a period of 150 years, each building tells a story in every little detail of each window, porch, and roofline. They are a snapshot of the historical development of New Braunfels. Of course, I have my favorites, but then there are those that just break my heart because they look so sad.

The white house on the corner of Seguin Avenue and Garden Street is the perfect example of a heartbreaker. It has tragically deteriorated before our eyes. Even in its current state, it is captivating. So, what’s the story with this forlorn looking beauty?

For starters, it is known as the Blumberg House, so named because it was built by F.G. Blumberg, businessman and former mayor of New Braunfels, for his bride Bettina Scholl. Built about 1900, the Blumberg House is a typical example of the Queen Anne style Victorian house, generally built between 1880 and 1910. With its steep roof form, the cutaway bay window and asymmetrical placement of the rounded, wrapped porch, the house presents as a classic example of the Queen Anne style, even though there were a number of odd additions made to the house sometime after 1922 that do not necessarily fit the style.

The roof styles changed slightly over the span of the Queen Anne period. The pitch of the hip roof was initially very steep about 1885, becoming only slightly less so around 1895, as seen in the Blumberg House. After 1905, the pitch became much less steep, making the gable roof the more predominant feature. The Blumberg House’s steeply hipped roof and lower forward facing dominant cross gable, is common to over half of all Queen Anne-type houses. In addition, the Blumberg House’s overwhelming hip roof is ornamented with a cool decorative bay window dormer, topped with a simple pediment roof.

Another characteristic of the Queen Anne style is decorative detailing. The fanciful style seems to abhor flat, boring surfaces; therefore, they overly decorated absolutely everything, including the porch with its decorative trim spindlework suspended around the top. The repetitive pattern of wood lathe-turned sticks are called spindles because the design resembles wooden sewing thread spindles or “spools” used at the time. While the Blumberg House spindles are each the same, the simple knob-like beads, when designed in staggering patterns can resemble the notes found on a sheet of music. Spindlework has also been referred to as “gingerbread,” or Eastlake-style detailing, named for the 19th century English furniture maker Charles Eastlake. The porch columns and balustrade are composed of beautifully detailed period-styled turned wood. Even the cutaways at the front bay window and brackets at each porch column contain intricate wooden fret-sawn patterns.

By the time the Blumberg House was under construction, the railway was well established in New Braunfels, making possible delivery of all sorts of goods, including construction materials, ordered through catalogs. Decorative house ornamentation like spindlework was mass-produced and sold in pattern books with names like Anna Marie, The Lisa, The Mary Elizabeth. It’s likely the spindlework and possibly other ornamentation and turned wood constructs on the Blumberg House were sourced in this way.

Queen Anne s

tyling actually uses many other decorative devices to break up flat surfaces. They either do it spatially by the addition of bays, towers, overhangs or wall projections, or texturally by the use of varied wall materials with differing patterns and textures. Though the house does not have the tower structure so often identified with this style, the dominant feature of the Blumberg House is the asymmetrically placed cutaway bay window “cut away” from the overhang above it. The bay window provides the same function as inclusion of a tower, adding an intentional randomness. Likewise, the broadness of the hip roof plane that dominates the front of the house is broken by the elegantly proportioned dormer window noted previously. As for a textural contribution, they added chamfer-cornered horizontal bands of wood shingles that look like fish scales on the gables of this particular house.

So, just who is this F.G. Blumberg who owned such a magnificent home on the main thoroughfare of New Braunfels? Ferdinand Gustav Blumberg was the last of 11 children born to German immigrant farmers in Schumannsville, Texas, in 1879. He worked hard to move up in the world and had a lot of different kinds of jobs. He was listed as a dry goods salesman when he married Bettina Scholl in 1900. That is when their beautiful home was built on Seguin Street (changed to Avenue in 1926). By 1910 he was in the wholesale malt liquor business. He served as a director of the Chamber of Commerce and director of New Braunfels State Bank. He was listed as president of that same bank in 1920. Ferdinand was elected mayor in 1922 and 1924. In 1926, his fortunes began to change. He lost re-election in April of 1926, suffered financial misfortunes later in that year, and finally filed for bankruptcy. The bank sold off what was known as the Blumberg Building (the two-story building on Main Plaza now housing New Braunfels Coffee across from the courthouse) to satisfy debts.

About that same time, F.G. Blumberg left town. The beautiful Blumberg House passed to his wife, Bettina, in October of 1926. He married Elvira Tolle on February 14, 1927. Unfortunately, the notice of his divorce from Bettina was published four days later. Ferdinand went on to be a credit manager for car dealerships in San Antonio and Corpus Christi areas before returning to New Braunfels in the late 1930s to retire. Ferdinand died in 1952. His second wife, Vira, lived until 1981 on Tolle Street. He never produced heirs.

First wife Bettina maintained her residence in the Blumberg House until 1948 when she it sold to O.A. Stratemann Sr. It was utilized by the Stratemann family, as far as we could discern, as a rental property until a few years ago. The home has fallen into disrepair and was recently sold. I hope that magnificent example of Queen Anne architecture will go on living in New Braunfels for another 100 years.

Sources: A Field Guide to American Houses (1984, 2013), Virginia Savage McAlester; Sophienburg Museum & Archives.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

Decorations for Christmas are up at the Sophienburg Museum and Archives. This year we are highlighting 20th century Christmas décor of the 1920s–1960s. You will be wonderfully transported back to your childhood. We also discovered several large boxes with Christmas lights which led me to look into the history of Christmas tree lights.

Candles were the first lights used on Christmas trees. Using tiny Christmas lanterns in the 1870s, counterweighted holders in the 1890s and clip-on holders after 1900, people would light their trees with candles for a brief moment of wonder. Live flames and dry fir or cedar was a dangerous combination, so a bucket of sand or water was kept nearby for expected emergencies. A heavy rug was placed under the tree to catch dripping wax; the rug morphed into the modern-day Christmas tree skirt.

Thomas Edison invented the first practical light bulb in 1879. In 1882, his associate Edward Johnson used that technology to electrically light the Christmas tree in his home. It created quite a stir since the tree also used electricity to rotate and blink on and off.

An electrically lighted Christmas tree was displayed in the White House in 1895. This brilliant exhibit fueled the public’s growing fascination with electrically lighted trees. In response, the General Electric Co. (GE) offered, for the first time, sets of pre-wired carbon filament lights for Christmas trees in 1903. At a time when the average wage was 22 cents a day, a $12 box of 24 pre-wired lights was very pricey. In 1906, Germany and Austria introduced electric figural Christmas lights to the increasingly interested American consumer.

GE launched new Christmas light outfits using the Mazda bulb in 1916. The Mazda was a globe-shaped bulb with a tungsten filament. Other manufacturers of stringed lights paid to use GE’s new Mazda bulbs in their sets. GE replaced the globe-shaped bulb with a flame-shape or cone-shape light bulb in 1919 and it, then, became the industry standard up into the 1960s. By the 1920s, all American lighting manufacturers had converted to tungsten filament bulbs.

The Tri-Plug was invented in 1921 by Lester Haft and allowed several strings of lights to be connected; this was a game changer for the industry. The many companies jumping into the lighting game compelled the Underwriters’ Laboratories (UL) to publish quality standards in 1921, and by 1929, lighting sets carried the UL tag.

In 1924, GE and Westinghouse replaced the smooth cone-shaped lamps with smaller ribbed bulbs. The National Outfit Manufacturing Association (NOMA) was formed by 15 lighting companies; the trade association eventually merged into the NOMA Electric Corporation and became the largest Christmas lighting company in the world.

No Christmas lights were manufactured during 1941-1945 due to WWII although companies sold out their back stock. In 1946, NOMA introduced the Bubble Light, which became the world’s best-selling Christmas light set. Other companies followed with their own bubbling light designs. Cloth-covered lighting wires were also changed to vinyl, plastic and rubber coverings following the war.

Italy introduced Americans to the Fairy Light or miniature lights in 1950. First produced with the bulbs wired directly into the light string, these gradually became the familiar plastic base push-in lamps now in use. Twinkling Lamps, units built with a flasher bulb, first made their appearance in 1955, an innovation still widely popular today.

In 1959, the Aluminum Specialty Company first introduced the aluminum Christmas tree The Evergleam and marketed it as a permanent tree not an artificial tree. (I see what they did there.) Since aluminum is highly conductive, electric lights then on the market could not be used with these new trees and the only way to light them was with a spotlight or rotating color wheel. The aluminum tree craze lasted until 1965 when “A Charlie Brown Christmas” aired on CBS which likened the metal tree to out-and-out commercialism.

Massive importation of light sets from places like Japan and Hong Kong severely impacted and caused the collapse of many American lighting companies. By the 1970s, Americans were almost exclusively lighting their trees with imported miniature lights.

Thought you might enjoy this description of the mini lights most of us use.

Mini lites truly have a mind of their own. As soon as they are removed from the box when new, they cling together in a “hive”, resisting any attempt to free them. Shaking them annoys the mini lites very much. It makes them cling even tighter, until the only method of untangling is a pair of scissors. Should you be lucky enough to actually free them, the strands fall to the floor, immediately running for cover under your feet. (This is witnessed by the sound similar to cracking a walnut.) Once the lights are untangled, the cat becomes VERY interested in them. I believe it is the tuna flavored wire that they use. No matter, because before they can get to the tree, the cat will have chewed through the cord in 6 places. Well! You made it this far! The lights somehow make it to the tree. You of course pre-tested them, so they will work. What you fail to realize, is that the mini lites are not going to fail until they are on the tree. — Chris Cuff

You can visit the Sophienburg Museum Tuesday through Saturday from 10 a.m.-4.p.m. (Please note that the Sophienburg will be closed for Thanksgiving November 24-26, 2022.) Or, you can bring your little ones to see St. Nicholas on Monday, December 5 for $5 per family. Reservations are required for this event; call 830.629.1572.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum and Archives collections; www.oldchristmastreelights.com.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

Request from Fargo, North Dakota: Do you know anything about a New Braunfels photographer named J. Serdinko? “Uhhh…yeah,” I thought to myself, “but not enough to answer this request!”

The Sophienburg photograph collections contain several hundred thousand images; about 300 of those are impressed with Serdinko’s name. These take the form of carte de visite (small business card-size photos), cabinet cards (hardboard-backed photos larger than a postcard) and stereoviews (two-image cards for use with a stereoptican viewer).

Yes, Serdinko was a photographer in New Braunfels. But who WAS he?

John, or Ivan, Serdinko was born in Bohemia in 1849 and emigrated to Texas in the 1860s. He became a naturalized citizen in 1867. I found him, and his partner Alonzo Newell Calloway, setting up a photo studio in a tent in Columbus in 1875. By January 1879, Serdinko had set up shop in New Braunfels and in November of that year he married Ernestine Fernanda Reich, daughter of Julius Reich of Hortontown. The couple moved to Fredericksburg to set up a studio.

In July 1880, John and Ernestine were back in New Braunfels and opened a studio on Seguin Street across from the woolen manufacturing company. The quality of his work was highly praised in the Neu-Braunfelser Zeitung.

Serdinko proved to be more than a good photographer; he was also an inventor. In February 1882, John received his first patent for “a portable darkroom for dry plate photography.” Serdinko was thinking of ways to improve and adapt his profession to the changing times.

In March of that same year, John and Ernestine put down roots and bought a house in New Braunfels. He purchased all new, up-to-date equipment and life for the couple looked bright. Tragedy struck in January 1883. The Serdinkos lost their 14-month-old son. That September, the studio moved closer to Main Plaza, two buildings down from the NB Zeitung office on Seguin Street.

John seemed to settle into life in NB and his studio did well. There had been photographers in New Braunfels as early as 1855, when a man set up a studio to produce daguerreotypes. You will find many photographers’ names on carte de visite and cabinet cards made in New Braunfels from the 1860s to the early 20th C: Carl Iwonsky (who was also a painter), William DeRyee, J.M. Slater, Doerr, Ranney, Winther, Jacobson, Jakobi & Parks, J.H. Chapman, Hoffmann, Schwarz and Klenke are a few.

Serdinko received a second patent, this time for a “rotary force pump,” in April 1885. He got a third patent in February 1886 for a “wind machine.” Like so many of the early citizens, he was a highly educated man with many interests, very much a man living up to the ideals of the Victorian Age and the industrialization it brought. With glowing reports that the quality of his work was “as good as anywhere in the States,” Serdinko purchased all new photographic equipment.

The Serdinkos were blessed with a second child, Rosa Lee, in 1887. John was mainly producing cabinet cards and selling them for $3.50 per dozen. He became a trustee in the newly formed fraternal organization, Knights of the Golden Rule (sort of a mutual aid society). Folks dropped by his studio to have both posed and candid photos taken. Serdinko photographed the first members of the Six and Sixty-six Card Club.

In November of 1887, trouble was brewing in the domestic life of the Serdinkos. Mrs. Serdinko had a sale which included household items, a windmill, pumps, and handwork, to be paid in cash. Ernestine then informed the public on March 1, 1888 that she was leaving NB in two weeks and was selling what was left of her furniture, picture frames and more. She also said she would finish all her photos at a very low price; she must have been doing some of the processing for her husband. She left and the studio on Seguin Street was rented to J.W. Writer who came from the studio of Serdinko’s friend, Alonzo N. Calloway, in San Antonio.

In April, John Serdinko returned from travelling to California and reopened a studio. When did he leave? Where did he go? I followed his trail west, and I found the reason for the North Dakota request. During 1887, Serdinko somehow met up with F. Jay Haynes of Fargo. Haynes was the official photographer of the Northern Pacific Railroad. He had his own railcar fitted out as living quarters and photography studio and is best known for his early views of Yellowstone National Park. There are several stereoviews, from the “Northwestern Pacific Views” series, depicting Native Americans and one view of Yellowstone that are published by Serdinko in Fargo. There are also cabinet cards with “Serdinko, New Braunfels” found in Fargo.

John may not have been the best husband, but he was shaping up to be an interesting man.

When the new IG&N railroad bridge across the Guadalupe River collapsed in 1891, John Serdinko was the photographer who chronicled the tragedy. In 1892, Serdinko designed and fabricated “an excellent telephone apparatus” which was installed to connect Henry Streuer’s Two Brothers Saloon on Main Plaza with the Streuer home in Comaltown. This was the first telephone in New Braunfels!

Serdinko sold his studio and took off for the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago — – THE perfect place for an inventor and photographer. After his return to NB in October, John received his fourth patent for “an automatic telephone exchange system.” He then rented his home on Seguin Street and moved to San Antonio in 1894. Serdinko got a patent for his telephone in April 1895.

The photographic business was sold to L. J. Wilson in 1899. Serdinko is listed in the 1900 Census for Colorado County and in March of 1901, Ernestine filed for divorce in the District Court in San Antonio.

And this is where I lost the trail for John, or Ivan, Serdinko. I found the last tidbit of his life in Ernestina Serdinko nee Reich’s family tree, “He died 11/15/1919 in Austria.”

How this free-thinking, intelligent, wanderlustig photographer and inventor made it to Austria remains a mystery.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives: Reich family genealogy; New Braunfelser-Zeitung; New Braunfels Herald; Lens on theTexas Frontier, by Lawrence T. Jones III; Nesbitt Memorial Library, Colorado County History, Part 8, by Bill Stein; 1900 Census, Colorado County, Texas; https://texashistory.unt.edu/explore/collections/TDNP/; https://dsloan.com; https://www.ha.com/; https://www.yellowstonestereoviews.com/

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Driving down Magazine Street the other day, I may have muttered some choice words when I bounced into a pothole that, I promise, a whole pig could have fit into. By the time I got to the Sophienburg, I was thinking hard about the streets in NB. Were they ever worse than they are now?

Oh. My. Yes.

Imagine a time when there were no motor vehicles, only wagons, carts and carriages ALL pulled along by horses, mules and oxen teams. There was a lot of _ _ _ _ on the roads.

To alleviate the amount of manure and urine and God only knows what else was laying on those dirt streets, they needed to be “sprinkled” with water daily. Sprinkling also improved health and living conditions by lessening the awful dust problem caused by street traffic. Shop owners on the main business streets were forever dusting and washing off produce, wares, floors and store counters.

A sprinkling wagon was a large and heavy vehicle designed to carry a tank that held up to 1000 gallons of water. A sprayer system was hung off the back that delivered water “more natural than a shower itself” according to the Fairchild sprinkler wagon patent in 1879.

The first sprinkler wagon in NB was built at the Comal Ironworks (near the old Comal Cottons mill) by Theodor Meckel in October 1893. Citizens paid Meckel a small fee to sprinkle the street in front of their home or business. The City also paid Meckel to sprinkle Main Plaza and the first block of W. San Antonio Street.

In 1905, the City paid Julius Buske a salary of $754.10 ($2.25 per hour) to haul gravel to fix potholes and to sprinkle the main streets. With continued growth came more dirt streets and dust — – more animal-powered vehicles and muck. A small poem was published in the Herald.

The sprinkler man in our town, he works with might and main,
To get the pavement sprinkled well before it starts to rain.

The local Womens Civic Improvement Club marched to the rescue by purchasing a new street sprinkler wagon for the city in 1914. The Mayor “expressed his high appreciation and thanks.” These women also championed the placement of public restrooms under the bandstand on Main Plaza. These women were good people.

By 1917, the city’s growth had made the dust/sanitation problem of gravel streets nearly impossible to maintain. Mr. Clemens suggested the new-fangled asphalting of Main Plaza and W. San Antonio to Academy Streets. The Uvalde Rock Asphalt Company was hired and completed the paving by February 1918, giving “the principle part of the city an up-to-date appearance.” FYI: A public notice was published warning everyone “not to burn trash or make fire for any purpose on the new asphalt street paving, as it will damage the paving.” Duh….

The City Council noted in 1918 that the City had paid $12,590.93 of the downtown paving bill and that 30 (named!) individuals had chipped in another $8,820.32 to extend the paving to the curbs on both sides of the streets. Incidently this public/private payment system remained in play up into the 1960s. The City would pay 1/3 of the cost of paving a street; that part was laid down the center. The other 2/3 of the cost was paid by the owners of the property on each side of the street; they were responsible for the pavement to the curb in front of their homes/businesses. Neighborhoods petitioned the City for paving, then had to get all the property owners to agree to the terms — not an easy thing to do.

A combination street sweeper and sprinkler was purchased in 1922, reflecting the dual nature of NB streets. Dust from unpaved side roads was being carried onto the asphalted main streets. F.F. Fischer ran the unit for 50 cents an hour.

In 1932, the demand from folks across the river in Comaltown was addressed by the renting of a motor-driven sprinkler truck. The truck accomplished in 5 hours what the horse-drawn sprinkler wagon could manage in 7. FYI: It required 22 hours to sprinkle all the unpaved streets in just downtown NB at this time.

Eventually, the city streets get paved and the dust problem is more or less solved, but that doesn’t really happen until the 1960s. That means I should remember gravel roads, but I don’t. By the time I was hitting the streets, it was pretty much all paved. All this has made me come to the conclusion that instead of muttering under my breath when I hit that pothole, I am going to joyfully praise the Lord that 1. I drive a car and 2. I drive on paved roads

Sources:

• Neu Braunfelser Zeitung, New Braunfels Herald, New Braunfel Herald Zeitung
• A Pictorial History of New Braunfels, by Myra Lee Adams Goff and Rosemary Leissner Gregory
• Wheels that Won the West Archives blog, David Sneed
• Meckel family history, Sophienburg Museum & Archives

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According to stories of the Old West, suspected criminals were shot or hung. No jail was necessary. Then as people became more civilized, there arose a doubt as to whether the person accused was actually guilty. Could we possibly say that “those were the good old days?” I think not. Should we have a trial before the punishment takes place? Holding a suspect in jail was certainly a better solution. A trial determining guilt or innocence would follow, but what to do with the so-called criminal until the trial?

From this need, the idea of a jail was born and in New Braunfels, this jail idea was necessary early on. For that matter, the first suspected criminal, a woman, was arrested and kept in the home of Sheriff Henry Gerwin. There were no buildings when New Braunfels was settled but eventually log huts were constructed. Gerwin’s prisoner’s infraction was not noted in the Comal County Commissioners Court minutes but the Comal County Commissioners agreed to pay Gerwin for keeping his prisoner for 45 days in his home. Must have been mighty cozy. The county had to rely on others who had empty rooms or empty structures sufficient to serve as a jail. New Braunfels Mayor Heuckel, in 1848, helped out by renting the commissioners a room in his home for ten months for $25 to serve as a jail.

In 1848, the County Commissioners asked the newly elected sheriff, Adam Maurer, to look for a place to be used as a jail. It would be subject to their approval. Now, this is interesting: About the same tine in 1848, the county asked the city if they would grant land to build both a courthouse and a jail. When the city offered no land, the commissioners advised the county clerk to tell the city that they intended to build a courthouse and a jail on the Main Plaza even though the property was owned by the city.

The city was asked to respond to the request and after not hearing from them, Commissioner Dr. Koester was asked to obtain a resolution from the city. This eventually happened, but not resulting in what the county expected. The city then offered two lots near the Comal Springs and suggested that if necessary, the county could sell the property in order to purchase property somewhere else, but NOT on Main Plaza.

Buying a lot and building a courthouse and jail was an expensive proposition and the county had only $400 and taxes were still forthcoming.

In July 1849, Theodore Sterzing offered his lot to the county for $600 which included two log buildings. This lot was town lot #85 fronting on Seguin Avenue. The lot is in the location of the parking lot for the Elk’s Lodge. The county records show that the offer was accepted, and the county moved in the larger of the two log buildings. The future plan was to build a log jail on the site 12 feet square using logs 9 inches thick. This building was eventually built and can claim its fame as the first jail in Comal County.

Eventually, the log jail became unsuitable and in 1854, a new jail was built at what is now 509 W. Mill Street. This jail served the county for 24 years.

Do you know the story of the Moesgen murder? Moesgen was a first founder of New Braunfels and he was murdered by his wife, daughter and son-in-law. If you own the book “Around the Sophienburg,” you can find the story on pages 236 and 237. The book is a “must read” to learn about the history of New Braunfels and Comal County. The family killed Moesgen in 1855. The story tells us that the three family members were hauled off to the sheriff’s home. The year shows that they were placed in the Mill Street jail. The court found the three guilty and imprisoned. One died in prison and two were paroled.

The Mill Street jail began to deteriorate, and plans were being made for a new jail to be built behind the 1860 courthouse (where the Chase Bank is located). The new jail was finished in 1879. The plans included iron cages to hold 20 or 30 prisoners. The two-story building was built of limestone rock with an iron roof. Fredrick Ernst Ruffini of Austin was chosen as the architect. The cost was $10,000 with a bid of $1000 for iron work. This building served as the jail from 1879 to 1931.

In 1898, the present courthouse was constructed and in 1931, the jail was added to the north side of the structure. The old jail that was in the Chase Bank parking lot, was torn down in 1958.

What happened to the old stones from the jail? It’s an interesting story. When Sts. Peter and Paul Church had an enlargement project in 1962, some of the stones were used from the old jail in their project. Both sides of the exterior of the church have some of the stones. When researcher John Coers was taking photos of the stones, he found carved initials. He thinks these were done by prisoners.

Another use of the stones from the old jail can be found at the outdoor patio and steps leading to the basement of the Prince Solms Inn on San Antonio Street. There are three notable stones at the top of the steps that have the words COMAL COUNTY PRIS.

The New Braunfels Conservation Society is in the possession of the cornerstone of the old jail with the architect, F.E. Ruffini inscribed on it and they also have a metal device that was thought to be used to pass food through to prisoners.

All of this information was researched by John Coers at the Sophienburg Museum and Archives. John is a member of the Comal County Historical Commission. He used maps, city minutes, county minutes and newspapers to aid his research. There is a wealth of information to aid researchers at the Sophienburg. Check it out.

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Occasionally, I need to look through the Sophienburg’s newspaper collection. The papers, on microfilm, date from 1852 to present day; it is an amazing resource. Often, an unrelated search sends me “down a bunny trail” (of course, I follow!). As I was researching pigeons a couple columns back, I came across Dr. Grube. His name was familiar to me because there are several artifacts in the Museum collections associated with him: a wood box overlaid with sliced deer horn, an engraved watch fob, a meerschaum cigar holder, and some cut-glass steins. So I began to wonder, who was this guy?

A name search in the news index revealed over 80 mentions for Dr. Otto R. Grube in the Neu Braunfelser Zeitung, from 1876-1902. The advertisements, small articles, and one sentence reports in Locales (Local news), gave me a sense of what the everyday life of this local physician was like. This good doctor was a busy, busy man.

The paper announced in November 1876, that Dr. Grube had taken over Dr. Lehde’s medical practice. The practice remained in Dr. Lehde’s home, but Otto made many house calls. During 1877, Dr. Grube rode his horse 10 miles south of New Braunfels to Santa Clara to cure the Helmke child of nervous fever, moved his office to the Voges home on Castell Street, and joined Dr. Claessan in performing an autopsy. The theft of Otto’s horse from in front of the Guadalupe Hotel (Schmitz) during a failed robbery attempt definitely made news in July. Later that fall, he joined the Turnverein (Athletic Club) and the Saengerverein (Singing Society). He was fitting into the New Braunfels “scene” quite nicely.

The Zeitung printed a thank you to Grube in February 1878 for his “special attention and services rendered” during Mrs. Roessing’s illness. That spring, advertisements reminded townsfolk that he was giving smallpox vaccinations during the lunch hour each day at Voelcker’s Drugstore. He is involved in the November murder investigation at the Breustedt Farm, 6 miles from downtown; called in to examine a woman’s body found in the well, he determined that her head had been beaten in with the “weapon” found near her. The murderer turned out to be the woman’s husband, a Polish man, who worked on the farm. (Talk about a bunny trail!) Grube removed Dr. Claessan’s finger in December — it had become infected during an earlier operation.

In 1879, Dr. Grube assisted several San Antonio physicians in a hernia operation; this was considered “major surgery”. Later that year, his neighbor’s dog was poisoned, he was appointed to the examiners board to hire English-speaking teachers, and he amputated Mrs. Seele’s foot after it was badly broken in a wagon accident.

He treated Mrs. Eiband’s lung disease until her death and got politically involved in 1880. He went to Galveston and Dallas as a delegate to the Democratic Convention. He also took ownership of a beautiful, hand-crafted coach made by “blacksmith Galle and wagon maker Mueller, with lacquer-work done by Streuer”. He and his friends survived a “mule and ambulance” accident on the way to a Saengerverein event and that summer he worked on the fair planning committee.

Advertisements in 1881, announced that Dr. Grube was a “family doctor.” He helped reestablish the local masonic lodge. That summer he and Mr. Voelcker began a soda water business. He treated Mr. Glenewinkle’s arm after a thrashing machine mishap and he served as coroner for the intentional morphine overdose of Lee Wilson at Ludwig’s boarding house.

1882 was a difficult year for Dr. Grube. First, he served as pallbearer for his good friend, Dr. Claessen. Next, he treated the wound of M. Starcke’s 12-year-old son after he was accidentally shot by his 14-year-old brother. In November, he travelled all the way to Laredo to treat Judge Pfeuffer’s son, George. (That’s one heck of a house call!). Then in 1883, Grube’s 12-year-old brother-in-law, John Dyer, was shot by Alfred Rheinlaender.

Personal tragedy struck again in March 1885, when Grube’s wife died suddenly at age 30; he buried her with her family in New Orleans. That summer, he treated Mrs. Waldschmidt after a terrible accident. While she was milking a cow, it tried to butt away her dog. She was knocked down instead and suffered a serious “wound” because she was pregnant. At the same time, Dr. Grube cared for the son of Mr. Hildebrand who had shot himself in the head with a shotgun. After the last few months it was not surprising to read in the newspaper that Grube gave his practice to Dr. Underhill and moved to New Orleans in November. The Zeitung reported that “the town would truly miss him.”

And then, in May 1895, Dr. Grube returned to New Braunfels. He set up his practice in Voelcker’s Drugstore and specialized in the diseases of women and children.

In 1896, Grube was reported to have tried a telephone connection between New Braunfels and Blanco. New Braunfels had been connected to San Antonio since January. He continued to give smallpox vaccinations and once again was elected to be a delegate to the Democratic Convention.

He bought shares in the Comal County Fair Association in 1899 and became the president of the Schuetzenverein (Shooting Club). Most importantly, Otto Grube married Emmy Weber in a December ceremony. He was 50; Emmy was 28.

1902 saw a rise in smallpox cases. Dr. Grube, the Comal County Health Officer, reported on the victims: Tausch’s daughter, 2 Catholic nuns, Kern’s son, 1 member of the Lueder family, 2 of Albrecht’s daughters, and 3 Mexican workers on the Kuehler Farm.

Dr. Otto R. Grube died July 8, 1902, of kidney failure, and was buried in Comal Cemetery. His second wife, Emmy, lived until November 23, 1956.

Now I wonder how much of my life — or yours — is recorded in the newspaper.

Sources:

• Neu Braunfelser Zeitung microfilm collection
• First Protestant Church records
• US Census reports
• The Portal to Texas History https://texashistory.unt.edu

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