Have you heard of Sylvester’s Abend? Have you heard of New Year’s Eve? Two names for the same event. To arrive at the Gregorian calendar that we and most European countries use was not an easy process. Many changes took place before the final calendar set up by Pope Gregory XIII was adopted.

Sylvester’s Abend was what the German emigrants called New Year’s Eve, or Dec. 31st.The name “Sylvester” translates from Latin as “wild man”. The German “Abend” translates to “evening”. Sylvester’s Abend is named after a Pope of the Roman Catholic Church from 314 A.D. to 335 A.D. Ever since the Gregorian calendar was adopted by most of the world, the feast day celebrated Sylvester’s death on Dec. 31st. The name Sylvester’s Abend was used locally for many years but eventually changed to New Year’s Eve. The local German American Society still uses Sylvester’s Abend.

Speaking of Sylvester’s Abend traditions, some of the interpreters at the Sophienburg who grew up in Germany remember a practice carried out on New Year’s Eve called Bleigiessen or “lead pouring”. It resembles the practice of reading tea leaves to predict the next year’s events. A small amount of lead is melted in a spoon over a candle. Then the molten lead is poured into a bowl of water and the pattern that forms predicts events of the coming year. There is a long list of what these forms could mean. Sounds like an entertaining game.

Advertisements in the old Zeitung newspapers give a hint of how New Year’s Eve was celebrated locally. Dances at halls in town and in nearby settlements were prevalent. A popular early hall was Matzdorf Halle which eventually became Echo Hall and then finally, Eagles Hall. There were dances at Sweet Home Hall at Solms, Walhalla at Smithson’s Valley, Teutonia Halle, Anhalt, Landa Park, Reinarz Hall, Schwab Hall, Lenzen Hall, and smaller ones. Downtown Seekatz Opera House, built in 1901, was a popular dance hall with its stage, dressing rooms, kitchen, and large main floor with seats that could be removed easily for dances. An added feature was a balcony for onlookers and private club rooms on the second floor in the front of the building. At midnight the fire siren would blow.

All of the dances furnished trappings of the celebration of the coming of the New Year with noisemakers and fireworks. Designed to ward off evil, fireworks and noisemakers go back to ancient times.

In a Sophienburg Reflections program, the late Kola Zipp recalls a custom in her younger years (early 1920s) that had to do with New Year’s Eve. She called the practice “New Year’s Callers”. Young men would hire a carriage from the local livery stable and go out on New Year’s afternoon to visit girls. Girls would stay at home to welcome them and offer the boys wine. (That’s a switch) These New Year’s Callers would visit and then move on to the next house.

Marie Offermann and her sister Jeanette Felger often went to dances at Echo Hall as children with their parents. There was even baby-sitting service in one of the back rooms. People brought food that was placed in the basement under the stage. New Years was a dress-up time. Look at the picture.

New Year’s Eve is celebrated around the world, often with strange customs, from throwing dishes, to wearing red underwear, to congregating in a cemetery to ring in the New Year with departed loved ones. In France the wind direction predicted the year’s crops and weather and in Spain if one could consume 12 grapes in 12 seconds from midnight, good luck would follow.

Since the invention of television and computers, millions watch the New Year’s celebration at Times Square in New York. Since its beginning in 1907, a huge 12 foot diameter ball suspended above Times Square is lowered. When it reaches the bottom of the tower, it is midnight.

No New Year’s Eve celebration would be complete without the ever popular traditional song, “Auld Lang Syne”. Poet Robert Burns is given credit for translating the Scottish song. Here’s the last verse of Burns’ rendition:

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!(friend)
And gie’s a hand o’ thine!(give us your hand)
And we’ll tak a right guid-willie waught,(take a good-will draught)
For auld lang syne,(long, long ago)

Chorus:

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

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The fall of the worldwide stock market, known as the Great Depression in 1929, was not of major concern to New Braunfelsers. Being an agrarian area, the county was more affected by a serious drought that had occurred in the early 1920s up to about 1925. The effects on crops to the farmers was loss of farmland. Many farmers were just trying to recover from losses in 1929 and what was happening in the rest of the United States was not as important to their immediate needs.

The drought and the stock market fall was met with an increase in population of people moving to Comal County, especially if the move was to seek jobs. The local citizens needed the jobs for themselves so the locals didn’t look too kindly on this increase in population. Is this possibly where the term “aus Lander,” or “out of the land,” comes from? In New Braunfels, the population in early 1920 was 3,590. In 1930 it had jumped to 6,242. Imagine the effect on a town with limited jobs available. Up until this time, jobs were plentiful because business was good, but when the drought came, some farmers and ranchers left their farms to get work in town. Many didn’t plant crops. Even the mesquite trees lost their leaves, and that’s unusual.

The history of Gruene can give you a clear picture of what was happening generally in the county during the depression. The town of Gruene was a major economic contributor to New Braunfels. Can you imagine Gruene as we know it today, becoming a ghost town? Here’s the story of the rise and fall and rise again of Gruene. The rise of Gruene had mostly to do with the importance of the cotton industry and the creativity of Henry D. Gruene.

Gruene was the son of Ernst and Antonette Gruene who emigrated from Germany with the first group of immigrants in 1845. Their son, H.D. Gruene was born in 1847 in New Braunfels. As a young man, he was interested in ranching and was even part of cattle drives from New Braunfels. He returned to Texas in 1872. He purchased some land from his brother in the Gruene area, originally called Goodwin. Along with his new bride, Bertha Simon, he built a home on the Guadalupe River. Here’s where the cotton crop comes in:

Gruene involved himself with the importance of growing cotton. The production of cotton was so important that the economy of the South was referred to as King Cotton. Cotton was actually grown here in the early 1850s. Cotton growing was long gone by the time I was born, so I was surprised to see photographs of bales and bales of cotton brought to town on hundreds of flatbed trucks. Whatever happened to the King?

When Gruene advertised that he was seeking tenant farmers, the response was overwhelming with 20 to 30 families seeking opportunities. Two types of tenant farmers were hired. There were half renters whose implements were owned by Gruene and whose food and clothing were to be bought on credit at Gruene’s Mercantile Store. They gave one half of their crop earnings to Gruene. The other type of tenant farmer was one who had their own implements and teams but gave one third of their profits to Gruene. Each family was assigned a plot of one hundred to two hundred acres according to the size of the family.

Gruene was very successful and established a mercantile store (now the wooden Gruene Mercantile Store) and eventually a gin, lumberyard and dance hall. He built the Gruene Mansion and several family homes and then the red brick mercantile building in 1904. The town flourished into the 1920s.

By 1927 the worst of damage from the drought seemed to be over. Guess who came along in 1925, “a lookin for a home.” The boll weevil. Add this little critter to the drought that was already in progress and the cotton crops were gone. King Cotton was dethroned.

A song about this bug was written by Brook Benton. I’ve taken a few lines from it. Only the last line is to be sung. The rest is stated.

Let me tell you a story about a boll weevil
A boll weevil is an insect
And he’s found where cotton grows
Where they come from no one knows.
The farmer said to the boll weevil
“Say why do you pick my farm?”
The weevil just laughed at the farmer and said
“We ain’t gonna do you much harm
We’re lookin for a home
We’re looking for a hooooooooooooooome.

The tenants were ruined and the farming system stopped in 1938. The San Antonio to Austin road moved to where the IH 35 corridor is now and stopped going through Gruene. Gruene was deserted but like the phoenix (mythical bird), it rose again later.

Large businesses in the county and city suffered losses and loss of tax revenue to governmental agencies from decreased land values. This made progress impossible and slowed recovery. Larger industries like the Landa Industry, and the Planters and Merchants Mill (textile mill, later Comal Cottons) had a big impact on the whole community when Jobs became scarce. But Comal County moved slowly forward until the economy finally moved on.

Much of the information for this paper was taken from a master’s degree thesis written by Iris Schumann, long time coordinator of the aarchives collections of the Sophienburg Museum and Archives. There is much more to the thesis than I have reported here since the thesis covered the depression in Comal County beginning 1920 all the way up to the end around 1938. She covered many human-interest stories about how people came together helping each other out. Her conclusions is that because of this kindness and charity on the part of the citizens, New Braunfels made it through the Great Depression. Thank you, Iris for the contribution of this research to our history.

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Doing research on the Sophienburg Hill property brings back memories of my 7th and 8th grade at New Braunfels High School. How does the museum fit together with the 7th and 8th grades, you ask? Here’s the story:

My introduction to the first two years in NBHS, the 7th and 8th grades, were totally filled with activities where boys and girls interacted with one another. This may sound strange to you, but at Lamar Elementary (for me up to 6th grade), the boys were in the back playground and the girls in the front. An occasional wave was about as close as we got. I’m talking about the era of Shirley Temple and the Our Gang comedy boys. So going to the big NBHS was quite a culture shock.

But boys and girls were eager to meet each other, even 7th graders. The PTA tried to address this need by providing places where students could get together. The first of these places was above the Jacob Mendlovitz Dept. Store downtown on San Antonio St. (now the Antique Mall on the corner of San Antonio St. and Castell Ave. The upstairs was open to students on week-ends and chaperoned by PTA members, mostly mothers). The wooden floor made wonderful dancing to the Nickelodeon. Occasionally someone would entertain with a skit or a song.

Needless to say, the location wasn’t too popular with the downtown merchants and when someone crawled out on the window awning over the sidewalk, it was time to look for another place.

On Butcher St. the school district had a big building that was converted into an entertainment center called the “Unicorn Stables.” Open to all NBHS students, there was dancing and even skating party nights. It even hosted formal dances.

But all this planned activity was not enough for the Shirley Temple/Our Gang 7th grade crowd. We had enough of all that planned activity. We already had the Mariners and the Sea Scouts who often interacted with each other on Lake Dunlap. Mariners were the top echelon Girl Scouts and the Sea Scouts were the top echelon Boy Scouts. As fate would have it, the Mariner adult leader and the Sea Scout adult leader both had family camps on Lake Dunlap. It was only natural that the two groups would meet at the same time at the lake. The boys took delight in showing off their boating skills by dumping the girls out of the boat into the water. Blue jeans and saddle oxford shoes weighed a ton.

Before Caller I.D., one of our favorite activities was to telephone the opposite sex and hang up when they answered. One of my friend’s father, a businessman, had a second telephone in the bathroom. What fun we had, calling the boys and then flushing the commode. Today’s youth cannot do that without being arrested. I think it’s called harassment. On Saturdays we called Krause Café and in our broken German would ask, “Hast do Schmier Kase heute?” Translation: Do you have cream cheese today? Then we would hang up and start the giggling routine. Why, you ask?

The picture show was a favorite hang-out. The theatre had to hire a person to walk up and down the aisles with a flashlight and one never knew when you would be spotlighted. Saturday was double feature day and so it was possible to spend the whole afternoon and evening in the movies. You never sat in the same seat for very long. It was kind of like “fruit basket turnover” or “popcorn bag turnover.” Getting popcorn thrown at you was a sign to turn around. If there was an empty seat, you moved to it.

The girls did lots of spending the night at each other’s houses. I don’t think the boys did that. It was years before I could spend the night at anyone’s house. I would get so homesick that I would have to be taken home. There’s nothing like a guest with dry heaves. I finally made it through the night my senior year. A friend had a big slumber party at their big house downtown for all girls at NBHS. I made it all night by sitting up fully clothed in the bathtub.

Almost all of my classmates had their driver’s license by age 14. There was almost no traffic so that made a big difference. Six 14-year-old girls (me included) drove out to a vacant ranch house out of town owned by the parents of one of the girls. We were going to spend the weekend in this house totally unchaperoned. We got to the ranch house in the afternoon full of confidence and independence.

When it started to get dark, we decided we would drive back to town to go to the movies. I have always wondered about that decision. We left the porch light on because we knew it would be dark when we got back. Sure enough, it was almost ten o’clock when we drove back to the ranch.

Coming over the hill leading to the house we were quite alarmed as we saw that the porch light was out. Pitch dark. We told ourselves all kinds of stories as to why that light was out and why it was so dark in the country.

We entered the house through the kitchen door and built a fire in the fireplace. We turned on the radio and on came the Mary Roberts Reinhart Mystery Theater. That program was known for the scariest of all mysteries, like all of Edgar Allen Poe’s mysteries. Even the theme song was scary. I think it was from Swan Lake. That program made your heart beat faster but for some reason we were drawn to listen to it, as they say, “like a moth to a flame.”

Suddenly there was an unfamiliar sound coming from the basement under the house. It sounded like bottles breaking. Absolutely stiff with fear, one of the girls went over to the door in the floor leading to the cellar. She screamed and claimed that someone was trying to push the door open. All six, like stampeding cattle ran to the kitchen looking for shelter. Some sat under the table, some in a closet and I remember standing up in the shower. There we froze until the sun peeped across the horizon and we packed up and left. But one more thing: outside we checked the half-open window leading to the cellar and discovered foot prints in the mud. We were in the car and out of there and no, did not go back.

We never solved that mystery but I’m sure that if there was someone there, they were more afraid than we were. Now come on, you guys that were in the cellar, fess up.
Back to why the Sophienburg Hill stories reminded me of my 7th and 8th grades. It was because my 7th grade friends had get-togethers of boys and girls most Saturday nights. One particular party was held at the old Ernst Gruene mansion where the Sophienburg Museum now sits. It’s been torn down but not because of this story. At the party, there was lots of dancing and record playing, popcorn and cheese dip, Orange Crush and Dr. Pepper with peanuts. But one activity was a little iffy. This is why I haven’t mentioned any names of participants in this whole column.

Our favorite game was “Spin the Bottle.” Sitting in a circle, someone would spin the bottle and when it stopped, the person it pointed to had to kiss them. This was a very popular game.

Suddenly there was commotion on the front porch. Two senior boys were spying on our little fun game. Pandemonium broke out. The worst of it is that they wanted to start a newspaper for NBHS. Guess what! They printed their own little paper and on the front page was the story of our private party. It was handed out to 7th-12th graders. It was so embarrassing and that was the end of our Saturday night parties.

Almost every time I enter the Sophienburg Museum I think of that 7th grade year and I go there often.

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