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
By Tara V. Kohlenberg — I always looked forward to our weekly trip to the grocery store. Although it was only a short twelve or so blocks from our house (and about the same from the Plaza), it felt like we were traveling to an exotic place with odd sights,
By Tara V. Kohlenberg — Did your mother ever give you the job of pasting trading stamps into books? Mine did. My childhood is full of rainy afternoons spent licking (or wetting with a sponge after I got smart) drawers full of S&H Green stamps. That entitled me to browse
By Keva Hoffmann Boardman – “Peyote!” in muffled but gleeful voice shouted the Comanche medicine man. Two other Indians sprang from the sedan which had been parked on the shoulder of the road. Carefully the two crawled through the barbed-wire fence and hurried to where their fellow aborigine was standing.
By Tara V. Kohlenberg — Every child passing through the Texas Public Education System receives an introduction to history. I say an introduction, because they may not remember all of it, but they are definitely shown it. Elementary students begin learning about their own community history in third grade, eventually
By Keva Hoffmann Boardman — In 1975, Oscar Haas (known as the historian of New Braunfels) delivered a talk on things he remembered in his youth. Oscar was born in 1895, so by youth, he means somewhere between 1905-1915. One of the things he talked about was his cycling escapades.
By Keva Hoffmann Boardman — Growing up on Kentucky Boulevard in the ‘60s, my “backyard” included Panther Canyon. All the streets in that hilltop neighborhood dead-ended at the canyon, including Kentucky before New Braunfels High was built. We called it simply “the canyon” and it provided many hours of imaginative
By Keva Hoffmann Boardman — 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