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.

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

In recent days, we have all watched heart-breaking images flash across our screens as Russia exerts its power over Ukraine. News of such events has stirred up childhood memories of my classmates and I scrambling under our metal school desks during bomb drills of the Cold War Era in the ‘50s and ‘60s.

What?! So, in case you have blocked it from memory or are not old enough to know what a Cold War is, let me catch you up. The Cold War was a period of time that began just after World War II and lasted nearly fifty years. Tension rose between the United States and Soviet Union as both countries tried to spread their ideological influence over the world. The threat of nuclear warfare was very present and left its mark on America.

Let’s back up here. So, during WWII, the Russians were on our side helping to defeat Germany, Hitler, and his National Socialist Party. But two years later, Russians become the enemy? Yes, flexing their muscles in politics, in James Bond movies and even in the cartoons. Remember the Russian-like villains Boris and Natasha of Rocky & Bullwinkle who forever attempted to “catch Moose and Squirrel”? — even children were told that the Russians should not be trusted.

In 1949, the Soviet Union detonated its first nuclear device, signaling a new and terrifying phase in the Cold War; umm, that they had what we had and that they could use it on us. By the early 1950s, schools across the United States were training students to dive under their desks and cover their heads. Fears over the escalating arms race prompted President Harry S. Truman’s Federal Civil Defense Administration program to develop the “Duck-and-Cover” school drills and to educate the public about what ordinary people could do to protect themselves. I remember the drills, not so much the name of it.

Every club and organization in New Braunfels had a Civil Defense chairman: the American Legion, PTA groups, Rotary, Lions. etc., to distribute safety preparedness literature and get the word out. Workshops and meetings were held to help educate each family as to how to protect and sustain themselves in the event of an enemy attack. Schools sent home safety plan flyers as to how children would get home to their parents and where to meet them in emergency situations.

In the early 1960s, the U.S.-Soviet arms race really heated up. The disastrous 1961 U.S.-sponsored Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba failed miserably. Instead of overthrowing Castro, it resulted in stronger ties between Cuba and the USSR putting Russian nuclear missiles in Cuba and the nuclear threat directly in our back yard. The Cuban Missile Crisis was thirteen days of confrontation in the fall of 1962 between the US and Russia that was a true near miss. New Braunfels School District dismissed school early and published the evacuation plans on the front page of the Herald during the ’62 Cuban Missile Crisis.

After that, the country, and New Braunfels, ramped up to protect not just against a bomb, but “The Bomb”. There were bomb shelters in public buildings, like the old City Hall on Seguin Avenue, and a fallout shelter under the police chief’s house. My dad worked for New Braunfels Lumber on the west corner of Castell and Coll (now HMT Engineering). The lumber yard had a personal bomb shelter for sale sitting out in their yard for anyone who could dig a hole deep enough to put it in.

In 1962, New Braunfels received one of 90 packaged hospitals in Texas for use following enemy action or major natural disaster. It was supplied by the office of Civil and Defense Mobilization. The packaged hospitals were outgrowths of the mobile army hospitals used during the Korean War (like on “M*A*S*H”). Most of them were located at least 15 miles from assumed strategic target areas like San Antonio. They were expected to provide at least half of the hospital beds following a major emergency. Let that sink in. Assumed Strategic Target Areas. That means that San Antonio military installations (Kelly Air Force Base, Randolph AFB, Lackland AFB, Fort Sam Houston Army Post, Camp Bullis) and Austin’s Bergstrom AFB, which was actually part of the Strategic Air Command, were strategic targets!! … and New Braunfels would either be the help on the periphery OR collateral damage. Yikes!!

Not only were people worried about protecting people, people were also worried about protecting their stuff. With the world condition being what it was, a group of San Antonio businessmen recognized the need to provide secure vital records storage in case of a nuclear attack. In 1962, they formed Emergency Records Storage, Inc. and built a nuclear-age underground storage facility located in the hill country outside of New Braunfels. It was said to be the only bomb-proof underground vault in a 10-state area which met rigid government specifications. For a fee, the company stored duplicate records in the form of microfilm, magnetic tape, regular hard copies and eventually floppy discs for banks and governmental entities in the event of an attack or disaster. For more than three decades, the records company did a brisk business serving people from Texas and surrounding states. As with most anything, technology grew past the need in the 90s when banks and companies began backing up records on their own computers. Less and less was stored in the vault as the years passed, and the corporation finally dissolved in 2015.

Growing up in New Braunfels during the ‘50s and ‘60s was wonderful even if the world was a scary place. Outside of the “bomb drills” and cartoon references, I was blissfully unaware of most of these things. Growing up now, in a very technologically savvy time, our children may not be. I hope they are as lucky.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives; New Braunfels Public Library; New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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