As the last article of the year 2013, I would like to tell you a story that is factually true but of little historic significance. I remember the programs put on by school children for their parents before Christmas vacation, in the Spring, and at the end-of-school. They had one thing in common – everyone was glad when they were over.

My first teaching job was here in New Braunfels at Lamar Elementary. Although I had a secondary degree, my first job was in elementary school. That’s because I could play the piano and in those early days it was very important for a school to have a teacher that could play the piano. Every grade had a music and an art class.

On Friday afternoons all the children filed into the auditorium where they learned patriotism through singing “Texas Our Texas” and the “Star Spangled Banner”. There were other historical songs like “Over There” from WWI and “Just Before the Battle Mother” from the Civil War. The idea was that history could be learned through music and I do think it works. What teacher could resist the teaching moment when a child would ask, “Why is it our Texas?”, or “What’s a Star Spangled Banner?”, or “Where is over there?”, or “What battle?”

Not having any training in what children were capable of singing, my expectations far outreached the limits of their capabilities. I still remember for example one Easter program when the little fourth graders sang “The Holy City”, a piece that only the Mormon Tabernacle Choir could perfect.

In the mid-1960s, I was teaching music at Carl Schurz Elementary. The Texas Education Agency decreed that sixth grade students were to be taught music, art, and performing arts every day. It was loosely called Fine Arts. Teachers were not supplied a curriculum; it was up to the teachers.

My fellow sixth grade teacher Georgia Brooks and I guided 60 sixth graders through Broadway classics, old songs from the 1920s that my mother taught me and a few that her mother taught her. We taught anti-war songs like “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”, “Yesterday”, and “The Cruel War”.

I led the music portion of Fine Arts while Brooks held those 60 children in place. When we taught the art part of Fine Arts, Brooks directed with me helping with discipline. For Performing Arts we taught the students to dance. Brooks danced with them while I played piano. We danced “Put Your Little Foot”, “Ten Pretty Girls”, the polka, two step and waltz. They were ready for the Kindermaskenball.

Then the sixth grade was transferred to New Braunfels Middle School. The transition to a school where there were 7^th and 8^th graders was difficult. There was no bad influence on these younger children like many were afraid would happen; the older students would have nothing to do with the 6^th graders.

Our Fine Arts program transferred with us to Middle School, only the music was in the boy’s gym with basketball going on at the same time. The art segment was in a double classroom shared by Brooks and me.

At Christmastime our principal asked our Fine Arts class to put on a program in the gym before the holidays. This was a most difficult audience but 6^th graders were eager to perform. We put on our version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”. The art part of the Fine Arts class made elaborate scenery – mountains, artificial snow and a little red wagon for a sled. It was a success. And so our stock went up with the 7^th and 8^th graders.

The next year our Fine Arts class was again asked to put on the pre-holiday program. What glory there is in success! This time we created our own version of “Toyland” and we worked like little elves.

The day arrived and once again the 7^th and 8^th graders poured into the gym. Everything was going as planned until the last number.

Picture this: Two rows of students lined up facing each other playing the part of the figures that come out of a German “cuckoo” clock. They look at each other and then go back in the clock. To make things a little more exciting, each child had an aluminum pie plate filled with shaving cream. They were SUPPOSED to act like they were going to throw it at each other. Instead of acting, one pie flew through the air and hit another child. Now twelve pies flew and soon the gym floor, covered with shaving cream, became a slip and slide for merrily sliding children.

Can you imagine the audience? They were wild with enthusiasm and wild with the appreciation of our talent! These people have a strange sense of humor. The assembly was called off, every one filed happily out of the gym and Brooks and I stood there stunned. One math teacher came back and helped us mop the entire gym floor.

The floor has never been so clean and this, our swan song, was the last time our Fine Arts class was asked to put on the Christmas program. Without saying a word, the look on the principal’s face said it all.

The post Children’s programs sometimes unpredictable appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

Some stories write themselves. Some, like this one, began as one idea before evolving into something completely different. The idea stemmed from a visit with Myra Lee Adams Goff, (you know, accomplished author and the one that started this column) when she handed me a copy of the The Golden Book of Favorite Songs. I had seen copies of this songbook in the Sophienburg Archives, but never researched it. I took it as a challenge.

The gold-colored 126-page booklet by Hall & McCreary Company, copyrighted in 1915 and 1923, was a favorite keepsake of hers, in part because she sang from the book when she was in school at the Lamar Ward School. A ward is like our attendance zone today. It was also the book used when she began teaching at Lamar Elementary School in 1954. Same school, updated name.

A man by the name of Curt E. Schmidt was named prin­ci­pal of Carl Schurz Ward School in 1931, a year be­fore Myra Lee Adams Goff was born. Schmidt had be­gun his teach­ing ca­reer in 1922 in a one-room school­house in Gille­spie County be­fore teach­ing Eng­lish at New Braun­fels High School. While at Carl Schurz, he earned his law de­gree from St. Mary’s Uni­ver­sity in 1942, leav­ing ed­u­ca­tion to prac­tice law. He re­turned to ed­u­ca­tion as prin­ci­pal of Lamar El­e­men­tary in 1950.

At that time, prin­ci­pals were not re­quired to teach classes, but he of­ten taught art and mu­sic. He was fond of The Golden Book of Fa­vorite Songs. The book was a teacher’s dream, teach­ing mu­sic, his­tory, pa­tri­o­tism, read­ing and re­li­gion all in one. It had songs of every genre: chil­dren’s songs, Christ­mas, Civil War, folk, pa­tri­otic, re­li­gious, Ne­gro “spir­i­tu­als”, with many of the songs’ his­to­ries be­ing given. There were also read­ings or recita­tions: Lin­col­n’s Get­tys­burg Ad­dress, Pledge of Al­le­giance and Twenty-third Psalm. Curt Schmidt led songs from the song­book fre­quently. He or­ches­trated chil­dren’s skits and mu­si­cal pro­grams every year.

Mrs. Goff graduated from Texas Christian University in 1953. Her first teaching job was at Lamar Elementary. Principal Curt E. Schmidt hired her because she could play the piano. She taught music and handwriting to fourth, fifth and sixth graders. She had a degree in secondary education, and there she was, hired to teach music to elementary kids. What’s more, she could not read a lick of music. She played by ear from the age of seven. If she heard it, she could play it.

As Mrs. Goff tells it, at one particular school assembly, while Schmidt was leading songs, he called out a Civil War song on page number sixteen, “Just Before the Battle, Mother.” Well, Mrs. Goff did not know it. She told me that she suffered through, plinking around, pretending, when he finally stopped to ask her what she was playing. She said, “I told you I couldn’t read music.”

I had a natural curiosity about Curt Schmidt. We lived next door to him on Magazine Street for a couple of years up until I was old enough to start school. I never attended school where he was principal. I would later see him orchestrating the Kindermasken Parade when school teachers helped put it on. I thought that the old German dance, Herr Schmidt, was about him. I remember him to be very energetic, almost intense about things. I wondered if my memories about his nature were correct.

Curt Schmidt was an innovator. He was proud of his German heritage and felt strongly about preserving the ways of the ancestors. German language had not been taught in New Braunfels schools since World War I. After thirteen years without German language instruction, Schmidt felt the children needed it. In 1931, he organized German Summer School, devoted entirely to teaching the German language, folkways, folk songs and German pioneer traditions. The number of German School students grew from the initial forty to over three hundred per summer over the years.

The summer program ran until it was crushed by World War II. Since the United States was at war with Germany, everything German became suspect again. Promoting the German language was considered subversive and the German program ended in 1940. You will frequently see the German language textbooks Deutsche Fibel (German Primer) and Erstes Lesebuch (First Reader) that he used in German Summer School in the Sophienburg collection, or estate sales. We have one of each at our house. Schmidt was very persistent. Later, in 1954, as principal of Carl Schurz, he was instrumental in finally getting German and Spanish language electives back into the elementary schools.

Curt Schmidt was ambitious. He first served as principal of Carl Schurz, then after returning from his law practice, he served as principal at Lamar for three years before returning to Carl Schurz. By the time Mrs. Goff returned to teaching after having a family (no pregnant women could teach!), Curt Schmidt was the superintendent of New Braunfels School District. Mrs. Goff’s teaching career led her to Carl Schurz, Lamar and New Braunfels Junior High before authoring her own articles and books to preserve the history of New Braunfels.

Schmidt served as superintendent from 1962 to 1966, during which time he established the first area vocational school in Texas, inaugurated the first Head Start program and established a vocational school of nursing. Overall, he spent forty years as an educator, mostly in New Braunfels. Some loved him, some did not, but he accomplished a lot in his time. He again practiced law from 1970 until his retirement in 1982.

Curt Schmidt loved his German heritage and his community. He was active in Scouting his whole life, earning the Silver Beaver and Scoutmaster Key awards. He was a charter member and past president of the New Braunfels Rotary Club, and active with the Sophienburg Memorial Association. Schmidt wrote and illustrated two books about German Texan pioneers and was the local correspondent to the San Antonio Light for ten years.

I may not have fulfilled my task of writing an article about The Golden Book of Favorite Songs, but in this final year of Lamar Elementary, I have managed to tie together a bunch of things that I did not know about before writing this article: the Songbook, the German primers, German School, Mrs. Goff and Herr Schmidt. It is almost like the Six Degrees of Curt Schmidt. Too much?

Sources: Myra Lee Adams Goff; Sophienburg Musuem and Archives.

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

The post The Golden Songbook and Herr Schmidt appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

Of the many things that New Braunfels’ founders brought with them, one of the greatest is their love of music. Men’s choirs, singing societies and bands of all types, have been the focal point of entertainment and social gatherings in New Braunfels for more than 175 years.

Now that we have made it through the parades and polkas this year, it is time for Christmas music. I am not talking “jingle bells, deck them halls and ho, ho, ho” as Lucy told Schroeder. I am talking about the beautiful hymns and sacred music of Christmas as presented annually at the Advent Vespers program by the New Braunfels Music Study Club.

For those unfamiliar with Advent Vespers, “Advent” pertains to the four-week season in the Church calendar anticipating and preparing for the arrival, or “advent,” of Jesus of Nazareth at Christmas. “Vespers” generally refers to evening prayers, based on the Latin word vesper, meaning evening. The New Braunfels Music Study Club has presented the annual sacred music program since 1959.

The Music Study Club was organized on February 24, 1928. Fourteen ladies met at the home of Mrs. Irene Guinn to establish a club promoting the study of music, encouraging musical education and maintaining a high musical standard in the community. The first order of business was the election of officers, with Mrs. Guinn, a well-established piano teacher, elected President, Miss Roma Koepp elected Vice-President and Mrs. Galle elected Secretary-Treasurer. They studied the opera “Il Troubadore” and Italian composer, Giuseppe Verdi, with multiple selections performed by club members.

The charter members were Mrs. J.F. Johnson, Mrs. M.C. Hagler, Mrs. Irma Guinn, Mrs. R.H. Ransopher, Mrs. U.R. Hellmann, Mrs. O.C. Bassler, Mrs. Arthur Zipp, Mrs. Emil Heinen, Miss Etelka Lucas, Mrs. G. Mornhinweg, Mrs. Ernie Eikel, Mrs. Harold Adams, Mrs. John Fuchs, Mrs. Bob Herring, Mrs. George Baetge, Mrs. Harry Galle, Miss Allene Ashenhurst, Miss Roma Koepp, Miss Loraine Tolle, Miss Gertrude Dietel, Mrs. Howard McKenna, Mrs. Pete Faust, and Mrs. Rennie Wright.

By November 1929, the New Braunfels club had become a member of both the Texas and National Federation of Music Clubs. The national organization was founded in 1898. It was chartered by the Congress of the United States and is the only music organization member of the United Nations. The NFMC is composed of over 90.000 members that include professional and amateur musicians, vocalists, composers, dancers, performing artists, arts and music educators, music students, patrons and music lovers of all ages.

Courses of study for the New Braunfels club were selected from those offered by the national organization. The courses followed specified categories of fine music study including opera, international music, folk music, parade music, sacred music and composers. Members selected the biography of a music master/composer, taking turns in presenting the information at a meeting while the music of said master would be performed by others in the group.

The New Braunfels Music Study Club monthly meetings were held in private homes. In the first years, operas were studied with members and guests performing appropriate music. Later, a ladies’ chorus was formed as well as a ladies’ string ensemble. First Protestant Church invited them to perform a Christmas cantata in the church, followed by a benefit concert for the Church Auditorium Building Fund. When Seele Parish House was finished, the club was invited to hold their monthly meetings there. They bought a grand piano for the parish house to be used for rehearsals, programs and Sunday School meetings.

The New Braunfels Music Club negotiated with the NBISD School Board to improve the music programs in the schools. They established a rhythm band at Carl Schurz Elementary and a choral program at New Braunfels Junior High School.

In the 1930s, the club established juvenile and junior music clubs, giving students the opportunity to compete in Federation festivals which were held in different cities in the district/state. Local student Glenn Richter (who went on to become the University of Texas Band Director) won a prestigious state scholarship to the National Summer Camp in Michigan.

During the ‘50s and ‘60s, music teacher members presented their students in a weekly 30-minute program on KGNB radio station every Saturday morning. In addition, member Franz Coreth presented outstanding opera programming every Sunday afternoon.

Over the years, the club has been led by numerous presidents including Shirley Jochec, Dorothy Johnson, Ann Kleeman, Jo Ann Lemmon and Robbie Borchers to develop outstanding projects. Not only have they supported the Federation by holding district conventions, district junior festivals and conventions, they have also hosted concerts showcasing choral groups, bands, soloists, and orchestras. In 1981, to honor their commitment to music education, the club established two annual scholarships to high school students seeking to continue the study of music in college.

The club’s most well-known project is a wonderful Christmas gift to the community: the Advent Vespers. It was originally touted as a Sacred Music Festival in 1959 with music performed by several church choirs. In 1960, choirs from First Baptist, First Protestant, New Braunfels Presbyterian, St. John’s Episcopal and St. Paul’s Lutheran churches participated, in addition to the Mass City Church Chorus directed by Melitta Frueh.

Melitta, the daughter of a Lutheran minister, the wife of a Lutheran minister, and a retired public school music teacher, combined her love of sacred Christmas music and grew the choral event for nearly forty years. The name changed to Advent Vespers about 1964. The massed choir has grown to more than eighty voices representing more than fifteen churches and organizations and is directed by Jody Leifeste.

The New Braunfels Music Study Club cordially invites you to prepare your heart for Christmas by attending this year’s Advent Vespers, to be held Sunday, December, 1, 2024, at 4:00 p.m. at Cross Lutheran Church Sanctuary, 2171 E. Common St., New Braunfels. As always, a free will gift is accepted.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum and Archives; Jo Ann Lemmon.

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

The post New Braunfels Music Study Club celebrates 95 years appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

Isabel Ludwig was a memorable woman. Born in New Braunfels on February 28, 1912, this leap-year girl graduated from New Braunfels High School in 1929. She attended Southwest Texas State Teachers College (now Texas State) during the Great Depression receiving both a bachelor of arts and master of arts degrees. Miss Ludwig came back to New Braunfels and began teaching third grade at Carl Schurz Elementary School — she taught that grade at that school for 43 years! Just imagine how many students she knew.

Isabel was dedicated to the children of New Braunfels and was a member of organizations that promoted schools and education: Carl Schurz Parent Teacher Association, Retired Teachers Association, Delta Kappa Gamma, past Matron of the Order of the Eastern Star and a member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars Ladies Auxiliary.

In cataloging some manuscript material from the A.R. Ludwig (her dad) collection, I came across an essay that Isabel wrote whilst a student at New Braunfels High School. She was a witty young 17-year-old when she graduated in her 11th grade year. That makes this sassy little essay even more special. I hope you appreciate her wonderful 1920s sense of humor and style.

Hats, Hair and Clothes

by Isabel Ludwig, 1929

Hats and hair should go together, of course, hence my combination of subjects. They were both invented to cover the head. Being such a broad subject, I will have to part the hair from the hats in the discussion.

Hats are more complex in their mechanism than a time-lock and there are as many styles as the sands of sea. They run in size from a small flowerpot to a ten-in-the-family washtub. We are, of course, discussing women’s hats as men’s hats are scarcely worth mentioning.

All the different styles originate in Paris and are wired over from there. That is the reason there is so much wire in the hats. It takes the styles sometimes three or four years to get all the way across the continent, but sooner or later every woman in America will be wearing a hat designed by some fussy milliner in Paris.

It is an egregious blunder to wear the same hat for two seasons. It is almost as much a breach of etiquette to have the old one fixed over. The words of the poet are only true, “Spare the purse and spoil the hat.”

A scientist, who really didn’t know what he was undertaking, once analyzed a genuine society hat. The result was astonishing. Reduced to its component parts, it contained: 5 miles of straw braid, 23¼ miles of wire, 60 yards of silk ribbon, 7 feet of ostrich plumes, 4 bushels of cherries, 1 basketful of leaves, 4015 spangles and a residue of lace, chiffon, etc. But time forbids a further discussion, so I close this part of my essay with the words of Bryant:

When passing by the milliners’
No woman now alive
Can stand the window-sign which reads
Once 10 reduced to 5.

I approach the subject of hair with much trepidation. Some people are sensitive about their hair, not about the hair they have, but that which they haven’t. Like the discussion of hats, all these remarks will be confined to the hirsute appendage of ladies and women for the reason that a man’s hair has no possibilities and I can’t discuss a baldheaded man’s hair because he hasn’t any.

Unlike the style in hats, the prevailing styles in hairdressing almost all originated in Central Africa, a few coming from far off Java. Of course, improvements have been made by our talented American women, but for the most part the original Marcella wave is worn.

The wild desire to be “in the swim”, hirsutely speaking, has led to many curious devices. But therein lies a secret which perhaps I should not divulge. But what’s the use? It is no fun to have a secret unless you can tell it. One of these devices is “sidetracked hair”. This is hair that has been switched of course. Price is 98¢ and up for real hair. One of the most delightful health-giving and beauty-making devices is the “knot” [rat]. These are not, of course, REAL LIVE RATS but just a vulgar name given to a very useful article, probably so applied because it resembles a rat’s nest or do rats have nests?

And “puffs”, those little curly things. They are so cheap, 15¢ and up on bargain days, and one can get so many on one’s head. You know the poet has said that “the crowning glory of woman is her hair” even if it isn’t her own and it is very hard for her to part company with it when from sheer necessity it is laid on the dresser till the next day.

But time is fleeting and I must close with these words of Tom Moore:

Just how a woman combs her hair
Is more than I can tell,
A hair pin here and then one there,
Back combs of tortoise shell,
She builds it up and out and in
With most experienced air.
The deepest of thy mysteries
O woman is thy hair.

I find that true to life, hats and hair have occupied so much space, I cannot disclose clothes’ secrets so will close. F I N I S

I didn’t go to Carl Schurz, so I didn’t know Isabel. Are there any past students or teachers from those 43 years that could share a story or two?

Addendum: 1920s hair fashions described in the essay include:

• Marcella waves — Hair styling technique developed by Francois Marcel that used hot curling tongs to create deep, soft and serpentine waves.
• Sidetracked hair — hair pulled over from a deep side part to cover the addition of extra hair.
• Knots or Rats — a roll of hair created from the hair collected from your brush which you used to add volume to your hair.
• Puffs — little groups of curls which could be pinned into your ‘bobbed” hair.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives: A.R. Ludwig collection; Barbara Ludwig Cobb.

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

The post Isabel’s essay appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

This past March I was in Macedonia, Greece with my eldest daughter. No matter where we walked the ground was literally littered with history — bits of marble, colored tesserae from mosaics, tiny pieces of bronze and always, always pieces of pottery.

History was everywhere.

I remember going to elementary school at Seele in the 1960s. We had a playground, but often, we would end up playing in the vast green grassy area between the school buildings and the Fredericksburg Fields. It really did seem “vast” to us. Whether we were playing kickball or some other game, it was not unusual to find Native American points (we called everything an arrowhead) just lying on top of the ground.

History was everywhere.

Recently, retired policeman/Texas Ranger Ray Martinez brought in two metal objects. He had found them while parking cars for the Lion’s Club at Wurstfest. The objects were lying on the top of the ground, not together and not even at the same time. Their shape caught his attention. He donated them to the Sophienburg.

One object is a thin, squared-spike, 8.25 inch-long, that looks like a really big nail not a railroad spike. Hand-wrought and perfectly straight, I’d venture to guess it has never been used but simply dropped and forgotten.

Hand-forged by whom? Possibly by one of the African-American slaves William H. Meriwether brought with him from Virginia in 1847; it is likely at least one of them was a trained blacksmith. Meriwether’s slaves dug the millrace in Landa Park and built the first water-powered mill on the Comal River. The spike was found in the area of what had been the foreman’s house and the slave quarters.

Meriwether sold the property to Joseph Landa in 1859. Perhaps a blacksmith employed by Landa made the spike. Maybe it was dropped by workers constructing the Landa Industries buildings or the sheds along the railroad tracks installed to transport product to and from the Landa complex.

History is everywhere.

The other artifact is not made of iron. It is lead. Lead is a soft metal made from galena ore mixed with antimony or metallic arsenic. It melts at 375 F. The 10.75 inch-long and 3/8-inch-wide bar is stamped in block letters, “St. Louis Shot Tower Co.” It is not often an artifact gives you such a great clue and Ray Martinez had already done some internet research. I did more, and this ugly dark gray bar is way cooler than it looks.

First, what is a shot tower? In 1782, Englishman William Watts discovered that if he dropped molten lead far enough through the air the surface tension of the lead would form it into a perfect sphere. That’s how raindrops are formed. Watts built a six-story tower and placed a water tank at the bottom. At the top he laid a copper sieve. When he poured molten lead through the sieve, its downward six-story flight was long enough to form the lead drops into spheres and to cool the lead enough for it to begin solidifying by the time it hit the water.

Why make little round lead balls? The balls being manufactured were “shot”. Making shot for rifles by hand was labor intensive, so if you need a lot, like for an army or to sell in stores, Watts new shot tower method was a huge technological breakthrough. Shot towers sprang up all over England and after Jefferson’s 1801 Embargo Act which halted imports, shot towers became popular in America as well.

The St. Louis Shot Tower Co. was opened in the 1830s and continued producing shot until the end of the 19th century. It also produced lead bars like the one Ray found. St. Louis Shot Co. reported that during a five-month period, they could produce 1,994,374 pounds of round shot and 426,400 pounds of lead bars.

What were the bars for? Although bags of shot were available in stores, many rural folk and hunters continued to hand-mold their own shot. The Sophienburg has many single and double shot molds used by early citizens. During the Civil War, both shot and bars were obtained and used by soldiers on both sides. If you think about it, with a bar, you could make yourself 20-24 shot balls while sitting around in camp before a battle. Wouldn’t it be easier to just carry a couple bars instead of a bunch of little balls? And what if the supply wagon didn’t make it? You could still have ammunition.

Why was the lead bar found in the parking lot field? Your guess is as good as mine. I know that during the 1850s the New Braunfels Schuetzenverein (Shooting Club) shot targets in fields near the water out at “The Point” (which is sort of where Comal Cemetery, the VFW and Cypress Bend Park are). In the 1860s, men in the Comal County Home Guard shot targets in fields near the Comal around Prince Solms Park. Spent shot was also found in the playground area of Carl Schurz Elementary School. The museum has a handful of shot from the schoolyard in a jar. The Lion’s parking lot would have been a perfect place for target practice as well.

Of course, none of my guesses may be right. Both metal artifacts could have been there because of floods.

I’m thinking that if we look, we might all stumble across really wonderful history in our own backyard. I find Native-American points and scrapers in mine. What might be in your backyard? Who lived in your house, and what is their story?

History really is everywhere.

Remember, please, that searching or (God forbid) digging on someone else’s property or city or state property is illegal without prior permission and authority. Don’t be an idiot. Be responsible and ethical.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum and Archives collections; https://stlouispatina.com; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shot_tower; https://www.uh.edu/engines/epi422.htm; https://www.minnesotatrap.com/history-in-the-makin/shot-towers-page; https://www.inventricity.com/local-heroes-william-watts.

The post History is everywhere appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

Part I of the history of 650 and 666 South Seguin Avenue properties was a story of immigrants who worked hard and expanded their family holdings. Now, on to Part II.

Ysmael Zamora Isasi and Otila Martinez, fled the atrocities of the Mexican Revolution with their children to become permanent residents of the United States. Shortly after they crossed the Texas border, their daughter, Olivia Zamora, was born in Laredo, Texas in May of 1913. The Zamoras learned that a Mr. Dittlinger was hiring men for his lime quarry just outside of New Braunfels. The work was hard but the jobs came with free housing. While Ysmael worked in the quarry, Otila helped earn money by cooking for the workers. She also found a cheap source for boots and clothes to sell to the workers. Eventually the Zamoras put enough money aside to build their own grocery store in New Braunfels. Their daughter, Olivia, grew up helping her parents at Zamora Grocery, located at 197 North Hackberry Street where their living quarters were attached to the store.

About 1930, at age seventeen, Olivia met and married Felix Garza Sanchez. The twenty-year-old Felix was born in Rio Verde (Lampazos, Nuevo Leon, Mexico) to Felix Garza Flores and Maria de la Paz Sánchez Mendiola. Felix was a man of slim build, fair skin with an incredible work ethic and great ambition. The newlyweds lived in a little house on Market Street close to downtown New Braunfels. Felix worked for Comal Dairy. Olivia stayed home to care for their children, Ysmael (Mike), Carlos and Maria de la Paz (Mary). They later rented a house at 635 South Seguin Avenue.

Olivia’s brothers, Raul and Manuel, had learned from their parents’ grocery business and began their own produce truck business. Young Felix went into business for himself when he was given his first produce truck by Olivia’s uncle Antonio. He would purchase produce wholesale in San Antonio and sell it door to door to wealthy and middle-class customers in New Braunfels.

One day Olivia asked Felix to leave a bushel of fruit and a bushel of vegetables outside their home so she could sell it to passersby. She saved $500 in the middle of the Great Depression selling produce from her front yard. Millions of people were out of work during the Depression, but she was saving money. That’s dedication! They began Valley Fruit Stand at 635 South Seguin in 1933. Business grew and in 1939 they expanded, moving the store across the street to 666 South Seguin Avenue. They paid an out of work carpenter, Mr. Vicente Villareal, to expand the store in 1940.

The store name was later changed to Valley Fruit Store. The store was tiny but full service with a dairy case, many shelf items and a meat market. There were previously no Hispanic-owned businesses on that street. It is believed that the store underwent more than one expansion at that site. As a point of interest, the ‘666’ street number was eventually changed to 664 after more than 60 years because later renters of the building were superstitious about the number 666.

The house behind the store was built in 1940, and sometime later two bedrooms were added. They bought the land from Otto and Emma Bodeman for $400. The house had a front yard, a large back yard, and a long gravel driveway to one side that reached Castell Street behind the property. Daughter Alicia was born in 1943. Felix Junior was born in 1947 and died in 1948. Otila, the youngest, was born in 1949. They later bought the big house next door at 650 South Seguin Street on October 16, 1950, from Oliver Sands for $8,000. The monthly mortgage was $63.29. The house was remodeled, as it had been boarded up by Mr. Sands for two years after the death of his wife.

Felix was an active member of the New Braunfels LULAC- League of United Latin American Citizens. In 1943, he registered his children, Ismael, Carlos and Mary at Carl Schurz Elementary School. Only two other Hispanic families registered their kids at Carl Schurz that year. It was the first year that Hispanic kids were integrated into the public schools in New Braunfels. On the first day of school, Felix walked his children into school. There were protests, so Henry B. Gonzalez, from San Antonio, the National Guard and the New Braunfels police were present. Prior to 1943, they had to walk across town to the segregated Stephen F. Austin School in Comaltown. The African American kids attended the Booker T. Washington School, which was actually the closest school to the Garza home. The African American kids did not integrate until the 1950s.

Felix’s activism took him to neighboring towns. On September 30, 1951, he and Alberto Aragon traveled to an event in Seguin to talk about integrating the Hispanic children into the neighborhood schools. They attended the event at Starke Park with Paul Fritz, the principal of Juan Seguin Elementary School. When they left the park, Paul Fritz’s car was struck by another car killing both Mr. Fritz and Felix Garza. Alberto Aragon, the godfather of Garza’s children, suffered a broken leg. JT Morgan, 19, of LaVernia was also injured. His brother, Samuel, who was driving the oncoming car, was not injured. Felix was forty-one years old.

After Felix died, Olivia ran the store for the next ten years with son Ismael. Medical issues forced her to make big decisions. Olivia closed the store after 28 years. She was only forty-five years old. She rented out the store building and went after a new career. She earned her beauticians license and opened Be Lovely Beauty Salon in what was the master bedroom of her home at 650 South Seguin. That is how I remember that building. She worked in her beauty shop into her late sixties. During that time, Olivia also derived income by renting out her real estate. The store at 666 was occupied over the years Red Elbel Used Furniture & Appliances, Howard TV & Appliance and Hill Country Trail Antiques.

The Garza family taught by example: how to survive in hard times, how to do what is right and how to raise a strong and intelligent family. Like the earlier German immigrants, they, too, were good stewards of the properties at 650 and 666 South Seguin Avenue and an asset to New Braunfels.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives; Alicia Garza Moreno.

The post History mystery: South Seguin Avenue, Part II appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Keva Hoffmann Boardman –

So, I read an article by Daniel Vaughn about just where and when Texas got its first barbecue joint. Vaughn has been looking into the history of Texas barbecue for many years. According to his research, there was a big post-Civil War wave of butcher shops across the state and this eventually led to commercial barbecue. The first mention of commercially smoked meat occurs in the October 25, 1878, Brenham Weekly Banner; the advertisement states that a butcher in Bastrop had a ready stock of barbecued meats and cooked sausages at his stall. When, I wondered, did this crowd- pleasing favorite make its debut in New Braunfels?

Submerging myself in the historic newspaper collections at the Sophienburg, I came up with some clues to follow.

Barbecue, or in most cases smoked beef and pork, was very popular in Comal County. As early as July 4th, 1855, barbecue was reported as the featured entrée at large community gatherings. On this occasion, it followed a day of patriotic parades, singing, target shoots, gymnastics and dancing. Later that same year, barbecue becomes a part of political rallies and improving voter turnout. Who wouldn’t listen to a politician prattle on and on if you had a heaping helping of FREE BBQ on your plate?

Throughout the 1870s and into the 1900s, barbecue always made an appearance at club socials, school festival days, more political rallies and new business openings. In July 1906, H.D. Gruene opened his brand new two-story red brick and wood store with a community barbecue consisting of five steers and one hog along with an undisclosed number of barrels of bread and pickles. The newspaper said “thousands” consumed the fare in “less than and hour”.

Prior to 1900, there were several local men who are mentioned repeatedly in the newspaper for their BBQ-ing skills: William Wolfshol, Walter Rauch, Charles Jonas and a Mr. Allen. These guys were in demand by various individuals, groups and dance halls to provide barbecue for consumption during events.

I digress. My original question is when did we get a barbecue joint in NB? Turns out, that like that first barbecuing butcher in Bastrop, the first “advertised” local barbecue man in New Braunfels was also the owner of a meat market.

In 1890, Harry Mergele bought the butcher shop of Carl Waldschmidt. In 1901, Harry opened a new meat market in Wetzels’s Store on Seguin Street. For more information I listened to the “Reflections” oral history recording of Edna Mergele. Harry was her uncle. Her grandad Otto and dad Charles were also butchers.

The family lived on Comal Street. They kept their livestock — – steers, hogs and other animals — – on property up on Sophienburg Hill near Carl Schurz Elementary. In other words, pretty dern close to where the Sophienburg Museum is located. On specific days of the week they slaughtered animals and then took the meat to the little Marktplatz on Comal Street to sell. The butchers in town had erected a shed at the west end of the plaza with slatted sides to provide air flow to keep the meat cool.

Edna remembers that prior to 1910, they had a building in their backyard that had three rooms: half was divided into two rooms with floors, the other half was one room with a dirt floor. In this room, they would bring the slaughtered animals from “the Hill” and would clean and prepare the meat for sale. They would make “meat” sausage year round, but would only make blutwurst, liverwurst and hogshead cheese in the fall. Her father Charles also ran a saloon which sold beer, soda water, homemade bread, butter and brick cheese. Charles was a well-known barkeep and worked at several saloons in New Braunfels.

Uncle Harry Mergele’s meat market got a telephone around February of 1903. He advertised that you could now just phone in your meat orders by calling number 33. But, it’s the advertisement that appears in the NB Herald on September 14th, 1906, that made me smile. “BARBECUED MEAT. Every Saturday and Sunday at Harry Mergele’s meat market.”

So there you have it. As far as I’ve been able to find, this is the earliest mention of commercially produced barbecue in New Braunfels!

If, in fact, Harry was the first to realize the profit potential of barbecue, he was definitely not the last. In the early 1900s other meat market owners joined him in setting up their own barbecue pits.

Thank God, they did.

Sources: “The First Barbecue Joint in Texas,” Daniel Vaughn; Sophienburg Museum & Archives historic newspaper collections; “Reflections” program #120, Edna Mergele.

The post First barbecue joint in New Braunfels appeared first on Sophies Shop.

Margarethe Schertz was only 12 years old when she came to Texas with her parents in 1844. If she were alive today, she could tell us a story and a half about Texas, Comal County, and especially New Braunfels. It’s a unique story of an apparently strong woman.

Just like the Germans that left their homeland for a better life in Texas, another group from Riedisheim, the Alsatian Providence of France, emigrated. Both groups were looking for opportunities in Texas after facing economic problems. Conditions were even worse in Alsacian France, and allegiance to the monarchy was foremost to any idea of freedom.

A book called Schertz compiled by the Schertz Historical Preservation Committee stated that the Industrial Revolution brought wealth to the French upper class but extreme poverty to farmers. Between 1842 and 1869 thousands left the area and came to Texas. Opening new markets was one of the goals that the immigrants hoped would happen as a result of colonization.

When Texas became a republic in 1836, money and people to settle were scarce. Gen. James Hamilton, land commissioner for the republic, appointed Henri Castro to handle land sales. Castro, a successful French businessman managed a land grant sale. Castro’s ethical business reputation was in question in Texas and France. He recruited all over France but was not successful. Eventually, he signed up the number of colonists to make the trip to Texas from Alsace and Germany. In 1843, the 129 Castro recruits left Antwerp, Belgium on their way to Texas.

Margarethe Schertz, with her father Joseph Schertz and his wife Anna Marie, plus six of her unmarried siblings boarded the ship to Texas. The Schertz family left four of their children in France, to join them later. Margarethe was the youngest child brought along. After a very difficult trip across the seas to Galveston, they were expecting to be met by Henri Castro. He was a no show and they realized they were on their own. They headed for the area of Castro’s land grant west of San Antonio. Many abandoned the group or settled near San Antonio but by spring of 1844, most were living in poverty at the San Antonio mission grounds. Seven members of the group died, including the mother and two children of the Schertz family. They remained camped at the old Alamo site for nearly a year.

Giving up hope of being rescued by Castro, the family decided to return to France. On the way back to the coast, they fatefully ran into Prince Carl, leader of the German Adelsverein group. He had just left San Antonio after purchasing the Comal Tract and he was on his way to the coast to be with the first group of immigrants. The prince was sympathetic to the Castro group and invited two of the families to join him. One of the families was that of Joseph Schertz.

When the Schertz family joined the first group of German immigrants, they were led to the site of New Braunfels by Adelsverein Treasurer Jean Jacques von Coll. He becomes significant in the life of Margarethe Schertz later in the story.

The first founding families that arrived in New Braunfels prompted the drawing of lots. The Schertz family was part of this drawing and the family also bought land in Comal County and at the Cibolo Creek where the creeks separate the county of Bexar from the county of Guadalupe. The word Cibolo means buffalo. The area was a favorite hunting ground of Native American tribes. Eventually the settlement at the Cibolo was called Schertz after the older brother of Margarethe Schertz, Sebastian Schertz. Other family members stayed in NB and the hill country.

How does Jean Jacques von Coll fit into this puzzle? He was chosen to lead the immigrants on their inland trek because he had been trained as a lieutenant in the Duchy of Nassau military before he decided to immigrate to Texas. His military background would help protect the immigrants against Indians. He was singled out by Prince Carl for this leadership role and he was put in charge of the safety of the immigrants. When he crossed the Guadalupe with the founders of the colony, he was considered a founder and given lot #25 on the Main Plaza. Here he built one of only two saloons in the colony. Saloons were very lucrative business. One of the lots he purchased later was an acre lot (30.9 acres) running from San Antonio St. to present Coll St.

I’m guessing that von Coll didn’t pay too much attention to 12-year-old Margarethe Schertz on the trip up from the coast, but five years later he must have noticed her. In 1849, they were married in the German Protestant Church. Two girls were born to the couple, Kathinka and Elizabeth. In 1852, von Coll was elected mayor of NB when tragedy occurred. A disturbed settler came into the saloon complaining about the Adelsverein. In true military fashion, von Coll challenged the man to a dual. When von Coll turned his back to get his weapons, the man grabbed von Coll’s gun and shot him in the back. The settler was tried but not convicted. Margarethe was left with the two girls to raise alone.

A new chapter enters her life in the form of Carl Heinrich Guenther, known as Heinrich Guenther. He was a well-known, established citizen of New Braunfels. Guenther had received a higher education at the University of Halls in Germany. Records say that he came to Texas following some trouble with the church for playing secular music. Heinrich Guenther’s education afforded him the opportunity to teach at the New Braunfels Academy. His love of music prompted him to be one of the early directors of the local singing society, the Germania which was established in 1850. He was very active in the state Saengerbund.

Heinrich Guenther married the widow Margarethe Schertz von Coll. They had six children of their own for a total of eight with her two. The family lived in the house at 624 Coll St. which still stands across the street from Carl Schurz Elementary School.

Heinrich began a brewery at the foot of Bridge St. on the Comal River. Some of the remains are still there today. When he died in 1870, Margarethe took over running the brewery. It is believed that she was the only female brewer in Texas. Both Margarethe and Heinrich are buried in the old New Braunfels Cemetery. On his headstone is a Latin phrase meaning “He was fond of children and a cultivator of the Muses.” A Texas Historical Marker commemorates Carl Heinrich Guenther in the New Braunfels cemetery.

Margarethe Schertz von Coll Guenther was a survivor and a true pioneer woman.

The post Margarethe Schertz, pioneer woman appeared first on Sophies Shop.