Greenville's Controversial Sign

At the entrance/exit of Downtown Greenville, a large, illuminating sign that read "Greenville Welcome: The Blackest Land, The Whitest People" once hung at a busy intersection for more than 47 years. Despite it being a prominent city symbol for many decades, the sign was divisive and a testament to the South's segregated influence. The sign's original phrasing was first used on a simple business card that belonged to W.N. Harrison, a local land broker. Harrison, a prominent face in Northeast Texas, traveled to Kansas City, MO, in February 1916 to lobby for Greenville to be a community through which the Jefferson Memorial Highway (now the U.S. 69) would pass en route to New Orleans. Persistent in achieving his goals, Harrison paid the hotel's bellboy to give his business card to President Woodrow Wilson, who was also staying at the hotel. President Wilson was intrigued at the "Greenville Welcome" phrase on the business card and asked to meet with Harrison. Thus, Harrison persuaded the federal government to place Greenville on the map.

A 1930s postcard image of Greenville's downtown welcome sign, which hung at Lee and Wright Streets' intersection. The sign was seen as a landmark with little meaning for over four decades.

In recognition of Harrison's efforts in publicizing the city, Greenville's Chamber of Commerce contacted the Flexlume Company of Buffalo, NY, in April 1921 and asked them to create a welcome sign for the city that used Harrison's phrase. Greenville's "Blackest Land, Whitest People" sign, which measured 24 feet long by 4 feet high and was adorned with electric lights, was installed next to the Katy Railway Depot on July 7, 1921. The two-sided sign was estimated to have cost between $300 and $500 to erect. The opening ceremony for the sign took place that evening in front of a huge crowd of proud citizens. Since W.N. Harrison had died shortly after his return trip from Kansas City, his oldest son, Hubert Harrison, was the keynote speaker and talked about Greenville's expansive growth. Greenville's citizens loudly cheered at the tribute to local prosperity. No one questioned the sign's wording since Greenville was very much a product of the segregated South; according to a 1920s dictionary, the term "white" meant people who were "honorable, trustworthy, or square," traits that blacks "did not have." Greenville's black population was restricted to "separate but equal" facilities, which included badly-managed neighborhoods, schools, churches, public areas, and occupations. Ironically, the sign in the downtown reinforced an image of perfect community with friendly and inclusive people (despite 1/5 of Greenville's population living under different laws).

President Woodrow Wilson, 1915. Despite running on a progressive campaign and granting women the right to vote in 1920, Wilson did not believe in racial equality and refused to appoint blacks to government positions.

According to the Greenville Evening Banner, a Ku Klux Klan rally was held under the welcome sign on December 16, 1921. 600 Klan members and over 30,000 spectators took part in the first Klan rally ever recorded in Northeast Texas. Besides this one instance, the sign had little meaning and was labeled by many (white and black citizens) as simply a landmark. Dewey Fitzpatrick, a black businessman, said the sign's wording did not offend him; the phrase meant "good, friendly people of all races who were trustworthy and helpful to their neighbors." Greenville's Chamber of Commerce hosted several picnics and commerce conventions next to the sign in the late 1920s, all of which were very popular among the locals and visiting businessmen. The city's clever slogan caught the attention of many mayors, who persuaded their city councils to create their own slogans. The sign garnered more attention during the Second World War when soldiers and nursing cadets on trains passed the welcome sign when entering or exiting Greenville. The "Blackest Land, Whitest People" slogan was found on planes. Also, the 1941 graduating class at Greenville High School included the slogan on their class rings. When President Harry S. Truman stopped in Greenville during his 1948 Whistle-Stop Campaign Tour, he spoke under the famous welcome sign, remarking how beautiful the City of Greenville was.

Harry S. Truman stopped in Greenville during his Whistle-Stop Campaign Tour on September 27, 1948. Underneath the downtown welcome sign, Truman promised to continue to protect farmers' economic interests if he were to be re-elected. He proclaimed that Greenville was "One of the richest farming communities in the whole United States," and urged the city to vote Democratic on the ticket, "From president to constable." (via Truman Library) House Representative Sam Rayburn was at the speech.

Following World War II, Greenville's population hovered around 15,000, and the city's black residents constituted around 20% of that total (about 3,000). The perception of the welcome sign began to change and was accelerated by the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision (which ended the "separate but equal" ruling). A large group of Greenville citizens saw the sign as a symbol of race and not of local pride. In spite of the grumblings, the sign continued to quietly hang next to the Katy Railway Depot. Greenville continued to be a hub of economic growth in the early 1960s. As the Civil Rights Movement was picking up momentum, Greenville's population toppled 19,000; this was a dramatic jump of 27% in one decade. Since many African Americans had sought opportunity in rural Northeast Texas and moved away from the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex, the city's black population had slightly increased and now totaled 3,698.

Greenville's "Blackest Land, Whitest People" sign, c. 1951. Once, local resident Jack Finney wanted to put the sign's slogan on his nametag at a Jeopardy gameshow in New York City, however, was not permitted to play because the game officials considered the slogan a slur rather than a clever slogan for a progressive community.

The welcome sign's demise was slowly drawing nearer. John Connally, a former Secretary of the Navy in the John F. Kennedy administration, won the 1962 Texas governor's race, campaigning on a platform to progressively improve race relations, economic welfare, and state education. Connally was admired by many in Northeast Texas and was hailed as "the Personification of Texas." The governor visited the city on March 25, 1965, and was greeted by a huge crowd of white supporters at the National Guard Armory on Lee Street prior to having dinner with the Chamber of Commerce. Ralph Hall, a long-time state senator, introduced the governor at the dinner. Connally's speech that evening was not recorded, however, some, including black businesswoman Myrna Gilstrap, recalled the governor suggesting that "the sign's wording had taken on a new and undesired meaning that was not complimentary." Did he say the welcome sign should be taken down? This question remains a mystery, however, Connally's speech paved a new path for Greenville's Chamber of Commerce. On April 13, three weeks later, the Board decided to take down the sign (reasons are unknown). The "Blackest Land, Whitest People" slogan, which for many decades had described a proud community of decent character, was now identified with racist undertones.

Governor John Connally's 1965 speech to Greenville's Chamber of Commerce might have been instrumental in the decision to remove the controversial welcome sign.

There were some efforts to restore the welcome sign, including a movement by Sybil Maddaux, the first woman mayor, in 1968, yet the sign stayed in storage. It appeared that Greenville wanted to bury its unjust, controversial past and move towards a brighter future. The people of Greenville were very proud of their city in the 1920s and created the sign as a welcoming beacon to tourists and visitors. They had not intended to exclude the black community because that would have been counterproductive to the city's growing prosperity. However, as time wore on and society norms changed, the sign's wording was open to other interpretations, and it was decided to publicly remove that piece of history and place it in the history books in the 1960s so Greenville could focus on fostering a more inclusive community. Greenville's welcome sign is another artifact that has been labeled as a symbol of the past, but is no longer appropriate to publicly display in today's progressively-charged culture.

Exploring New Orleans, LA

Since I recently traveled to New Orleans for a social sciences conference, I would like to share some of my photographs and the history of Louisiana's renowned port city. New Orleans was established by the French Mississippi Company in May 1718. The colony, named after Philippe II, Duke of Orleans, faced numerous struggles with the Natives in Southern Louisiana, yet emerged as a powerful shipping city at the start of the nineteenth century, famous for its smuggling. New Orleans and the Louisiana Territory was transferred to the Spanish after the American Revolution, then back to the French's hands, before being acquired by the United States in 1803. An influx of American east-coast civilians, Europeans, and Haitian refugees settled in the city after the Louisiana Purchase. By the early 1810s, a majority of the city's population was black; between 1808 and 1865, more than 2 million African slaves were forcibly displayed at auctions in New Orleans. The plot of land that the city's Omni Hotel currently sits on used to be the home of New Orleans's largest slave pen, which operated six days a week. Slave traders who resided in New Orleans included Hope Hull Slatter, John Hagan, and Joseph Bruin. Solomon Northup, the freeman who was cruelly coerced into slavery for 12 years, was sold at Theophilus Freeman's slave pen in New Orleans. Owing to slavery and cotton, New Orleans's wealth steadily grew.

Following the Civil War and elimination of slavery, New Orleans, like most of the American South, played host to several violent riots and racial lynchings. At the turn of the twentieth century, the city's population and once-great national importance diminished since the growth of railroads and highways took over the once-used river travel, and thousands of colored folks migrated to California and the West. By the 1950s, New Orleans was no longer the leading urban area in the South, with Houston, Dallas, and Atlanta eclipsing its trading records. Towards the end of the twentieth century, the city built its industry on tourist attractions, most notably Bourbon Street (with its world-famous bars, strip clubs, and nightlife entertainment). Unfortunately, most of New Orleans was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina in August 2005. Labeled as "the worst engineering disaster in the world since Chernobyl," the flooding of this brilliant city devastated Louisiana's landscape. The hurricane's storm surge overpowered the city levees, permitting tons of water to swarm the streets. People were killed, electricity was out, and homes were destroyed. Thousands evacuated to surrounding areas and seeked help from temporary Red Cross shelters, including in Dallas (my mum volunteered at a shelter during the Katrina crisis). Federal, state, and local institutions helped the city civilians rebuild New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. Slowly, the infrastructure was reconstructed and New Orleans again became the vibrant city we all know and love. I am incredibly grateful to have participated in the SSSA conference and visit such a colorful and magnificent city like New Orleans.

One of the highlights of the trip was a lunch at Ruby Slipper Café, where I had eggs benedict with Applewood smoked bacon for the first time. It was delicious!

Are my photographs making you hungry yet? My wife and I ate at Acme Oyster House and feasted on po'boy sandwiches (mine was stuffed with roast beef while my wife had fried shrimp in hers). Po'boys are traditionally eaten at lunch and are made with French baguettes.   

An inside look at Café Beignet on Royal Street. Beignets are deep-fried pastries covered with powered sugar, and are delicious when hot. These fresh doughnuts originated in France and were brought over to New Orleans by colonists in the eighteenth century. My wife and I also had beignets at Café Du Monde.

Situated in front of Jackson Square, St. Louis Cathedral is a monstrous, imposing building. The current church was built in 1789 and is currently the oldest cathedral in continuous use in the United States. The church is named in honor of King Louis IX of France (who was a progressive monarch). Don't fret if you sin on Bourbon Street since you can repent in the church a couple of blocks away.

Jackson Square, which is a block away from Bourbon Street, is a beautiful city park. A handsome statue of President Andrew Jackson (who also commanded American forces at the 1815 Battle of New Orleans) sits in the center of the square. Jackson Square is the site of the Louisiana Purchase signing in 1803. It was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1960.

Bourbon Street is New Orleans' famous tourist destination where visitors can either grab an alcoholic beverage, visit one of the several strip clubs, or dance all night. Loud jazz music and flashing lights are common. The energy along Bourbon Street (which covers 13 blocks) was electrifying. 

The mask has become an icon of New Orleans. French aristocrats used to wear masks and fancy costumes at grand parties and dances. That piece of culture was transferred to North America when the Europeans settled in South Louisiana in the seventeenth century. Today, masks are worn at Mardi Gras.

Canal Street is one of the largest and widest avenues in the city. It was the dividing line between the older colonial part of New Orleans and the modern business center. Originally supposed to be a canal that would transport people and commerce, Canal Street was built as a road when the city needed more avenues. Streetcars, like the two seen in this photograph, are common modes of travel among tourists.

My wife and I stayed at Hotel Monteleone during our visit. Nestled in the French Quarter on Royal Street, the 4-star hotel is one of the city's landmarks and oldest hotels (built in 1886). Many renowned writers and poets have stayed at Hotel Monteleone, including F. Scott Fitzgerald, Stephen Ambrose, Ernest Hemingway, and Erie Stanley Gardner.  

Does History Repeat Itself? The 1918 Spanish Flu

The Covid-19 Pandemic has definitely affected our lives. I, along with my fellow faculty and staff colleagues at A&M-Commerce, have settled in a sedentary, virtual life where department meetings and classes are on Zoom or Microsoft Teams (it is easier to join a online meeting with a click of the mouse instead of traveling to a meeting location, yet I do miss the frequent interactions I once had with my co-workers). We no longer shake hands when we greet new people, electing to fist-bump or briefly touch elbows. Also, we are constantly pulling our masks up and over our noses as the face coverings begin to fall off when we start talking. Social distancing is the new norm, and large gatherings are a fad of the past. Simply put, life is different.

People wore masks/face coverings during the 1918 "Spanish Flu" Pandemic.

Many say that history repeats itself. This phrase is certainly true in many ways. The world was plagued with another large-scale, deadly pandemic in 1918. Prior to the end of the Great War (now known as the First World War), an Army cook named Albert Gitchell fell ill from an unknown H1N1 influenza A virus. Since Gitchell worked at Camp Funston in Kansas, the virus quickly spread among other young cadets. After the American cadets were shipped overseas to fight in the trenches, the number of positive cases of this virus escalated to phenomenal numbers in Europe. The virus then spread to North Africa, India, Japan, and China. At the war's end in November 1918, thousands had died from the deadly virus, including youthful soldiers and home front citizens. The first and second waves of the virus caused a significant disruption in military operations during World War I; over 3/4 of French troops, 1/2 of the British military, and 900,000 German soldiers got sick from this virus. The front-line reports became so alarmingly to European governments that the politicians created World War I censors to minimize the stories of the virus and maintain positive morale. Since Spain (a neutral country during the Great War) was hit especially hard during this period, many newspapers began to label the sickness as the "Spanish Flu." After the Spanish King Alfonso XIII caught the sickness, the "Spanish Flu" name stuck. Since our scientists did not then have the modern technology to quickly develop a vaccine, preventative measures were put in place, including gauze mask wearing and public area curfews. Moreover, schools, churches, and theatres were all closed to reinforce social distancing (sounds familiar?!).

Hospital beds were quickly filled when the "Spanish Flu" Pandemic escalated in the latter-half of 1918. Red Cross nurses quickly helped their patients.

The Red Cross set up temporary wards in auditoriums and school gyms across the country. Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio experienced a massive virus outbreak in September 1918 when the Red Cross nurses could not handle the 234 positive cases in one day. Taking precautions, City Health Officer Dr. William Anthony King asked managers of San Antonio's entertainment venues to keep their ventilation systems running that day and prevent anyone from entering their establishments who exhibited signs of the "Spanish Flu." At the start of October, city physicians reported an average of 100 positive cases a day. On October 19, San Antonio suffered its worst flu day of that year; a record of 700 influenza cases were reported during a 24-hour period. Nurses began to get sick and were swiftly replaced with student trainees. The situation worsened until preventable measures were put in places and cases decreased in number by the end of 1918. Schools and other public areas re-opened, and the San Antonio civilians got to enjoy the end-of-war festivities. Between September 1918 and January 1919, over 12,300 positive cases of the "Spanish Flu" were recorded in San Antonio, and 881 people died- a whopping 7.1% of the city's population. Historians and social scientists now predict that 100 million people perished from the "Spanish Flu" worldwide, ranking the 1918 influenza as the second most-deadliest pandemic in history (second to the infamous Black Death). Despite the heavy number of deaths and dark days of World War I and the "Spanish Flu," the human race managed to survive and thrive afterwards. Hopefully, the end of the Covid-19 Pandemic is approaching, and similar to the aftermath of its 1918 cousin, the world will be able to get back on its feet and continue to grow and prosper.

Happy to have received my second Covid-19 vaccine at the Hunt Regional Medical Center.

I recently received my second Covid-19 dose; in spite of the chills and muscle aches I had the following day, I am grateful to be fully vaccinated. And I continue to wear my mask in all public areas and protect my family and colleagues. In other professional news, Texas Escapes Magazine recently published my article on the history of Whitley Hall, a high-rise dormitory at A&M-Commerce and the tallest structure in Northeast Texas. This is my fourth article that has been published by Texas Escapes; my others are histories on Wesley College and Burleson College (now-defunct junior colleges in Greenville), and Hell's Half Acre (Fort Worth's little-known red light district). I am incredibly grateful for the support I have received from Kate Wong Troesser, the magazine's fantastic editor/webmaster.

Link to the Whitley Hall article is below: 

http://texasescapes.com/JoshuaVChanin/Whitley-Hall-TAMUCommerce-High-Rise-Dormitory.htm

I oversaw the housing operations at Whitley Hall between 2018 and 2020. Photo taken in Aug. 2019.

King of Lions SSSA Presentation

I recently traveled to New Orleans, LA, to present my research on William Mayo and East Texas Normal College at the 2021 Southwestern Social Association Meeting. As always, I enjoyed meeting many bright scholars and presenting my research to an audience. The conference was held at one of the city's lavish 4-star hotels, The Monteleone. I am grateful for the warm hospitality and professional advice I received from my session chair, Dr. Eddie Weller, a history professor and director of the Honors Program at San Jacinto College in Houston. I will be writing about my New Orleans experiences in the next blog entries. Below, is a transcript of the paper I presented at this fantastic conference. It was titled King of Lions: William Leonidas Mayo and East Texas Normal College.

“Ceaseless Industry, Fearless Investigation, Unfettered Thought, and Unselfish Service to Others.”

William Mayo’s firm declaration, comprised of 11 words, have influenced administrative policies at Texas A&M-Commerce over the course of its 132-year history. His teachings sparked a progressive overhaul in state education at the end of the nineteenth century and his spirit continues to inspire thousands of graduates to walk the stage as scholars, specialized professionals, and community leaders. Today, I will be analyzing Mayo’s strong leadership approach and unwavering efforts to provide a quality education to poorer folks in rural East Texas.

William Mayo had an ambitious plan for his future... c. 1895.

A proud native of Kentucky, William Leonidas Mayo quickly learned to become an independent, industrious teenager—traits that he would later educate his students on. At age 15 in 1876, young William, the sharpest student in his class, was asked to take over classroom duties after his teacher was elected sheriff. Afterwards, the ambitious secondary school graduate once again found himself in front of the classroom as a teacher’s assistant at Central Normal College after Professor Franklin P. Adams (who was also the president) was galvanized at William’s passion for teaching. Prior to his move to Texas in the late 1880s, Mayo was a beloved principal at Cedar Bluff Academy in Virginia, where he established a robust curriculum that used “contemporary, student-centered, civically-engaged pedagogy.” Craving a new adventure, Mayo traveled to the Lone Star State in 1886, where he visited relatives and sought a school superintendent position in Cooper, a sparsely-populated town in the backwoods of Northeast Texas. Prior to his interview, Mayo created an unusual proposal for the Cooper Joint Stock School District: he offered to turn the district’s only school into a “first-class, private college.”

Mayo reassured the school district that his college would employ a rigorous curriculum where students would be required to have an active and constructive participation record in all classes. “If a father wants to make a son a carpenter,” Mayo wrote to a teacher in Cooper, “he does not sit him down and lecture to him about carpentering; instead, he gives him tools and puts him to work on a definite plan.” Mayo’s “learning-by-doing” style of instruction convinced the administrators to support the college proposal. And the rest is history… A T-shaped, two-story wooden structure was built near the town square to house classrooms, offices, and an apartment for Mayo. East Texas Normal College opened its doors to 16 pupils on September 2, 1889. Unlike many other colleges at the end of the nineteenth century, Mayo’s institution permitted women to enroll in the same classes as men. Despite receiving some disapproving glances from Presidents Thornton Rogers Sampson of Austin College and Henry T. Bridges of Henry College, Mayo ignored the skeptics and became a visionary pioneer who initiated radical changes in Texas education without regard for sex or class. He once wrote that “every person, whatever his [or her] vocation in life ought to possess this amount of knowledge, in order that he [or she] may perform intelligently his [or her] part as an active American citizen.”

Mayo taught thousands of students at ET, including this graduating class in 1903. Sam Rayburn is standing in the back row, second from the right. He was hiding behind his classmates since he was embarrassed by his unclean suit.

In an attempt to beef up enrollment in the early 1890s, Professor Mayo crisscrossed the state, publicizing his innovative school while decrying the existing “elitist” liberal arts colleges and criticizing the traditional lecture system. “The pupil sits at the front of the instructor and accepts, without thought or question, everything that is said…” he openly declared. “He learns to follow, not to lead; to accept the opinions of others, not to think for himself; to read the results of their investigations, not to make these investigations for himself. Such is not an education.” On the flip side, Mayo magnified his curriculum, which combined elements of rugged individualism and progressive politics. As the student body swelled, the number of faculty also grew. Mayo hired instructors who facilitated student learning and encouraged students to express their opinions on a variety of texts. The professor frequently reiterated to his faculty that “the classroom is the place for the pupil to learn how to use his own powers, and if the teacher usurps this, he is the meanest of tyrants—a tyrant of human souls.” At the college, Miss Edna Tullis taught foreign languages; B.L. Phipps was hired as the sciences expert; and W.E. Boyd taught mathematics.

A public hanging of a felon and a devastating fire—which destroyed the college building and student records—in July 1894 convinced Mayo to relocate his school to Commerce, about 15 miles southwest. The move proved to be lucrative. Since Commerce had a railroad depot (which Cooper had not had), students who lived miles away were now able to travel via the railroad and attend Mayo’s college. At eight in the morning on September 3, 1894, East Texas Normal College reopened. 35 students attended the first class, which was held on the second floor of the downtown bank. A generous donation from the city (10 acres and $10,000 in cash) allowed the college to permanently plant their roots on the outskirts of the downtown square and move into a six-classroom structure later known as “College Hall.” Mayo continued to persuade prospective students that his challenging curriculum provoked a student to question the world’s ideas and “stir him [or her] to discover the meaning of ideas.” Classes at the college included logic, psychology, rhetoric, history, ancient and modern languages, mathematics, biology, and economics. Students had the option to pursue a three-year bachelor's degree in either literature, pedagogy, or classics. Positive word on the college spread, and enrollment soared to 713 students in 1903.

Sam Rayburn and then-Senate Majority Leader LBJ, 1958. Rayburn received an honorary degree from his alma mater in 1943.

Sam Rayburn, a native of Ladonia, received $25 from his father to board a train headed to Commerce in fall 1900. Rayburn was a history buff, and enjoyed reading biographies of U.S. presidents and partaking in class debates. Like many of his classmates, he found Mayo’s classes demanding, later writing, “we students had to keep on our toes in Professor Mayo’s classes.” Mr. Sam’s global citizenship and public speaking skills flourished at East Texas Normal College: he played Brutus in a production of Julius Caesar, and joined the college’s literature societies. To help cover the costs of tuition and books, Rayburn rang the school bell and swept the floors in local schools—he earned $3 a month with these jobs. Rayburn graduated in July 1903 and following a short stint as a teacher, he used the extraordinary skillset he had acquired from Mayo’s college to win the people’s hearts during the 1912 congressional election. Mr. Sam was a distinguished Washington D.C. policymaker for 50 years, including a 17-year tenure as the Speaker of the House—a record that remains unsurpassed today. Despite his lengthy service in the nation’s capital, Sam Rayburn never broke ties with his alma mater nor forgot his humble beginnings in East Texas. Prior to his death in 1961, he wrote: “If it hadn’t been for Mayo’s college, his credit system and his inspiration, I don’t know where I’d be today. Professor Mayo instilled in me the importance of a man’s having an objective in life, of the need to have a program and to bend every energy to it.”  

Mayo became a father figure to his students at the college, gently prodding the younglings in the right direction and never displaying an overbearing persona when he didn’t need to. There were moments when the professor demonstrated his authority by “boxing unruly students on their ears, [and] sending others home for infractions…” Since his intentions were appropriate when he disciplined, the students adhered to the policies and respected Mayo’s leadership. The family atmosphere that was installed on campus thrived during the chapel services each morning. Chapel had some religious overtones, but the meetings focused primarily on character building and positive messages that the rural student body could excel in school and make contributions to the world in which they lived. The faculty also enjoyed hearing Mayo speak of his support for students and staff. James Bledsoe, a professor of mathematics, once penned, “many a time have I filed out of the Chapel Hall, after listening to one of these masterful addresses of Mayo, boiling over with enthusiasm and determination…with a feeling that there was absolutely nothing impossible for me to attempt and accomplish…”

The South and North Dormitories at ETNC, 1903. Mayo and his family had an apartment on campus.

Not only was he a revered educator, but Mayo was also an around-the-clock mentor, electing to live on campus and help to resolve students’ concerns outside of the classroom. He was assisted by his wife, Henrietta (nicknamed “Etta”), a music instructor at the college, after the pair married in June 1891. Etta supported male students during animated debates as sponsor of the Lightfoot Society, and encouraged female students to raise their voices against patriarchal forces during the Suffrage Movement. William and Etta Mayo had 8 children. Their eldest daughter, Gladys, was born in Mayo’s campus apartment in Cooper, and inherited her mother’s music talents and became a professor at the Julliard School of Performing Arts in New York. Marion was born in the first dormitory in Commerce after the campus had relocated. An athletic junkie, Marion secretly established the college’s football team in 1915 after his father labeled it “a violent sport.” Professor Mayo soon discovered his son’s hobby and eliminated football play until he reinstated it a year later (after much persuasion). Mayo’s youngest son, 10-year-old Stephen, was known to partake in drills with army cadets during World War I.

Several Northeast Texas schools and colleges, including Henry College, closed their doors at the start of the twentieth century due to financial problems. Although faced with similar stumbling blocks, Mayo saved his pennies on every construction project by bypassing expensive building companies and “going direct[ly] to the sawmills and brick kilns of East Texas to purchase these materials,” a construction manager later recalled. He stretched his existing buildings to capacity, often holding over-flow classes in the dormitories when the student body swelled in size. Following fires in 1907 and 1911, Mayo tirelessly traveled the state, asking collectors to generously donate books to the college’s library for pennies. He was successful; book-lovers gave 13,000 volumes, including the complete works of Thomas Jefferson.

Marion, the Mayo's fourth child, secretly established the college's first football team.

Moreover, as a self-described workaholic, Mayo would often be found washing dirty dishes in the kitchens or swinging a hammer on an uncompleted building frame or plowing the grounds at the crack of dawn or prior to sunset. “By applying my own labor to our work,” he once wrote, “I can save over $200 that would go to carpenters.” The professor also encouraged his students to use the existing tools and budget, and never waste time nor take the easy road to success. “DO NOT IDLE. STUDY WELL. SEIZE TIME BY THE FORELOCK,” Mayo once wrote on the chalkboard in bold letters at the start of classics class. Mayo’s industrious work ethic and money-saving schemes drastically lowered the tuition costs—the institution was affordable for all, and would be known as the “poorer man’s college” for many years.

The physical labor in building the campus exhausted Mayo, and the professor rapidly aged and became ill. At the beginning of 1917, the faculty approached Mayo and suggested that he relinquish his claim to the private college and place it under the authority of the state’s Board of Regents of the Normal Schools. Mayo reluctantly agreed. Texas Senator Richard E. Westbrook of Wolfe City—who was an alumnus of the college—took the matter in his own hands and drafted bill S.B. 231. On February 17, the state Senate passed the bill, and the state House approved the motion (79-41) on March 14 at 2:55PM, ensuring that Mayo’s little college would endure for generations to come. Westbrook sent a jubilant telegram to Mayo shortly afterwards: “There is glory enough in this history for us all.” Unfortunately, the telegram arrived 22 minutes too late. Professor Mayo died suddenly that afternoon at 3:30PM after collapsing from heart failure. He was only 55 years old. A life that was suddenly taken away, yet had more potential.

A small flower memorial site near Old Main was created by students when Mayo died, 1917.

Students and faculty at the East Texas State Normal College mourned the loss of their professor, mentor, and friend. Classes were suspended on March 15, and the campus buildings were draped in black flags. Over the course of three decades, an outspoken and creative educator transformed the educational landscape of Texas, establishing a progressive, inclusive institution that gave agency, opportunity and resources to those in the bottom half of the socioeconomic scale. The maverick teacher had changed the lives of many (taught over 30,000 students), emphasizing the absolute necessity and importance of wholesome discipline and character building in a sound system of education. By 1917, the college had trained more public school teachers than any other academic institution in Texas, and the school would continue to educate, inspire, and empower many students as time rolled on. Today, Texas A&M University-Commerce, the third-largest school in the Texas A&M System, offers a competitive, enriching, and dynamic education to thousands of domestic and international learners, all of whom are eager to arrive on campus and grow as scholars, think like leaders, and learn to be Lions.

** One final thing to conclude, an unusual piece of history: Prior to his death, Professor Mayo pointed to a black locust thicket outside his office window and declared that he wanted to be buried there. After her husband passed away, Etta was adamant that her husband’s grave on campus would never be moved by future presidents. So, she hired William J. McKittrick, Commerce’s concrete paver, to pour concrete over Mayo’s coffin before the grave was filled with dirt. Mr. McKittrick’s droning mixing machine could be heard during Mayo’s funeral; a disturbing sound in a gloomy moment. When the funeral was over and the crowd dispersed, Mr. McKittrick walked over and yelled down into the open grave: “Mr. Mayo, if you are ever going to come out, come out now. I am going to cover you with concrete.” There was silence, and the grave was filled. And William Mayo continues to rest in his grave on campus, one of the few college presidents to do so. I’ve had to do a couple of campus tours with new staff members, and it always makes me laugh when people either scrunch up their face or widen their eyes and comment, “A dead man is buried here?!”

Holding my presentation poster that was composed of archival photographs of Mayo and ETNC.

Commerce: A Cornerstone of Hunt County

When many think of Hunt County, they immediately muse on Greenville, the county's seat. Greenville is a beautiful place with a very rich history. However, the city located slightly northeast of Greenville, Commerce also has a vibrant history. Commerce (where I currently live and work at) is a magnificent community and a colorful cornerstone of the county. The City of Commerce was established in 1872 when William Jernigin, a former Arkansas legislator, opened a mercantile store on a new trade route in Hunt County. The store grew immensely popular among weary travelers (who heavily used the bridge over the South Sulphur River), and later a community sprouted around Jernigin's establishment. 

The Commerce Union Depot was frequently busy during the weekdays as trains ferried passengers and trade goods (including cotton) to and from the growing city at the end of the nineteenth century. Commerce became a trading hub of Northeast Texas.

At first, the new community was unnamed. However, after Jernigin consistently asked his suppliers to ship his goods to "Commerce," the name stuck. The city was officially incorporated by the state (and Hunt County Judge J.S. Sherrill) in 1885, and proudly boosted 12 businesses, in addition to a wood shop and wagon factory, hotel, steam mill and gin, church and a school. An influx of civilians and trade poured into Commerce in 1887 when the enlarging city was connected to Texarkana, Sherman, and Fort Worth via the St. Louis Southwestern Railway. Also, Kentuckian educator William Leonidas Mayo moved his college from Cooper to Commerce in 1894; the arrival of East Texas Normal College (later re-named Texas A&M-Commerce) further built upon the city's strong academic foundations. By the end of the nineteenth century, Commerce was far beyond the pioneering inception it had once been.

Downtown Commerce in c. 1890, shortly after the arrival of the St. Louis Southwestern Railway. Professor Mayo's college moved to Commerce in 1894 and was temporarily housed in a room on the second floor of the city's bank (shown in the background).

The population of Commerce had steadily risen to over 2,800 by 1910, and the community now housed a flour mill and cottonseed oil mill, a roundhouse, several cotton gins, and four banks. Schools (built in concrete buildings instead of log cabins) gradually populated the area. A U.S. Post Office broke ground in July 1917. The handsome building consisted of 2 floors and enclaved in red shale brick walls which featured light-colored sandstone trim and multiple Palladian windows. The post office, which cost the United States Department of Treasury a whopping $45,000 to build, was contracted by Algernon Blair of Montgomery, Alabama. Despite some delays in construction (due to the nation's entry into World War I), the Post Office was completed on August 15, 1918. A modern U.S. Post Office was built next to the original in 1972 (and the original was renovated into the city's public library). The city's population continued to swell in the Great Depression and World War II, however, slowly turned south when the machine shops moved to Tyler in the 1950s. The passenger trains, which had assisted in Commerce's growth in trade and population, were discontinued in 1956. Furthermore, the many cotton gins began to disappear (the 1950s were no longer supporters of "King Cotton"), with the last cotton gin quietly closing its doors in 1978.

Automobiles crowd the streets in Downtown Commerce, c. 1931.

Commerce's population fell to modern historic lows of around 5,700 in 1960, the same period where the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex was rapidly expanding. By the mid-1980s (when the doors of East Texas State University threatened to close), Commerce's businesses had moved on and the city appeared to be a shell of its former prosperous self. As the twenty-first century beckoned with promising prospects, the city's largest employees included the university, WalMart, Sherwood Medical, Manatee Homes, and American Wood. The current population tops just over 8,000 civilians, many are retirees and those from families who have been in the area for many generations. Despite its loss of productive commerce and local businesses, Commerce still wields an antiqued charm for history lovers, young and old (and, may I add, there are a couple of fantastic restaurants in the area too!). 

Today, Commerce's City Hall is at the heart of the downtown square. The building houses the offices of the mayor and city council officials. It is a modern touch amidst an older community. 

One of my favorite parts of Commerce is the peaceful downtown square, where my wife and I frequently enjoy walking our dog there. This is a 2020 photograph of Main Street. McKay's Country Kitchen in Downtown Commerce offers customers phenomenal breakfast foods!

The city's first post office was relocated to another building across the road and renovated into the public library in the early 1870s at a cost of $200,000. I always enjoy driving past this facility and imagine the large throngs of passerbys bustle in and out of their post office.

The city's first post office was built in 1917-1918.

The City of Commerce has had a long, intertwining relationship with Texas A&M-Commerce since 1894, following the arrival of William L. Mayo's college from Cooper. Professor Mayo is pictured in the center of this photograph. He is surrounded by his 1905 A.B. graduates (students who earned a Bachelor of Arts degree that year). Mayo played an instrumental role in the growth of Commerce.

There were many times during ET's early years when the college did not have enough dormitory beds. Instead, students would be housed at local residences. Above, tenants pose on the front patio of Grace Hymer's house in 1912. Hymer opened her house to students needing a bed for the night/breakfast in the morning. Hymer would later receive a teaching certificate from the college.

When Arthur's Pharmacy on Lee Street opened its doors in the late 1920s, college and high school students flocked to the new establishment to enjoy a refreshing 5-cents milkshake. The restaurant also sold over-the-counter drugs and school supplies.

Despite a gruesome world war raging in Europe and Asia in the 1940s, there were a few lighthearted moments during ET's pep rallies in the downtown square. The pep rallies, which involved the college's award-winning band and cheerleaders, were led by letter jacket-clad students of the "T" Association.

ET was one of 200 colleges nationwide selected by the U.S. Army to host and provide specialized training to Army candidates during WWII. Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP) students, pictured above in 1943, would often let off steam after classes at various restaurants and cinemas in Downtown Commerce. The city thrived during the war because of the cadets' activities. The ASTP students would later be relocated to Camp Maxey in Paris, Texas.

Lucie Lou Whitley, ET President Whitley's daughter, was often seen with friends at Arthur's Pharmacy in the early 1940s. She would often disobey her father and smoke cigarettes in Greenville and Sulphur Springs. Los Mochis Mexican Restaurant currently sits in the pharmacy's location.

East Texas State University used to host homecoming parades in Downtown Commerce in the 1950s and 1960s. This particular float, depicting an old automobile and armed gangsters, was part of the 1964 "Roaring Twenties" themed parade. Other parade floats commemorated Charles Lindbergh's 1927 transatlantic flight from New York to Paris, the Hollywood silent film era, and the 1925 Scopes Trial.

If the Walls Could Talk... (Paris, TX)

My wife recently received her first dose of the Covid-19 vaccine at the Love Civic Center in Paris, Texas. I thought it would be a great idea to walk the downtown area afterwards and take photographs of the city's oldest buildings. Since my wife enjoys antiqued places as much as I do, she agreed to the activity, and we both had a great time soaking in the peaceful, quaint ambience of Paris, Texas. Imagine if the walls of the now-abandoned buildings could talk...oh, the stories of Paris we would witness...

One of the many old and large residences in Paris. These types of grand homes were once owned by prominent Paris businessmen, doctors, and lawyers.

My wife and I stumbled on a handsome, small Episcopal church in Paris. The Episcopal denomination in Texas was created by Bishop Leonidas Polk of Louisiana in 1839. The first incarnation of the Episcopal church in Paris was organized by Bishops I.W. Wells, J.E. Roberts, and J.K.P. Campbell on June 9, 1870. The original facility comprised of a frame chapel and log cabin rectory where the Lamar County Courthouse currently stands. However, these structures were destroyed in the 1916 fire. The current church was built in 1917 and furnished by Englishman Richard H. Blyth.

A vacant hotel sits a couple of blocks away from the Paris downtown square. There were several affluent families in the city at the start of the twentieth century; they usually attended weddings and lavish banquets at hotels like this one. The King's Daughters, a women's charitable organization, was created in 1887.

A partially-dismantled structure sits next to a empty apartment building in Paris, TX. Some rumor this facility to be a former home to the legendary John Chisum. Chisum moved to Lamar County when he was 13 years old. In 1852, he became county clerk of Lamar County prior to entering the cattle industry. Following an adventurous life in herding cattle and gambling, Chisum died in 1884. He is buried in Paris.

One of the amazing murals on the side of a vacant building in Paris. The city's early economy was fueled by cotton. Paris, like most of the South, experienced an explosive growth of textile plants in the 1850s when the Industrial Revolution moved from Britain to the United States. More than 20 cotton gins operated in Lamar County and over 100,000 acres of land around Paris were devoted to the raising of "King Cotton" prior to the Civil War.

The interior of an abandoned warehouse in Paris. This facility had no roof and was overgrown with weeds and vines, leading me to believe that it was partially destroyed in the 1916 Paris fire.

Paris's Historic Union Station sits on the south side of town and is currently home to the Valley of the Caddo Museum & Cultural Center (a fantastic place with some fine exhibits on the area's early Natives). The first railroad line in Paris was built in 1875. The city had a wooden union station by the early 1900s, and constructed a brick station in 1912.The station was frequently used in WWII by the soldiers from neighboring Camp Maxey. The last passenger train to leave the Union Station was in 1956.

Paris is a beautiful place! I stand in a gazebo, which is located behind the Lamar County Historical Museum.

'Winston,' my good ole' Kia Soul, sits outside an abandoned Coca Cola/Dr. Pepper bottling factory on the outskirts of Paris. According to local historian Marvin Gorley, 23 different bottling companies were housed in Paris between 1870 and 2017. These carbonated soft drinks played an instrumental role in the city's growth.

Unfortunately, the Lamar County Historical Museum was closed (it was Good Friday... yet, we will try again on another visit). Outside the museum stands a bust of George Washington Wright, a native of Tennessee who settled in the village of Paris in 1839 (the original name for the community was Pinhook). Wright would later follow in the footsteps of his Texas Revolution mentor Sam Houston and vote against secession as a member of the Secession Convention from Lamar County in 1860. He served as a Confederate Provost Marshall during the Civil War and died peacefully in 1877.

Hiking at Cooper Lake State Park

A few weeks ago my wife and I traveled to Cooper Lake State Park and hiked several of the walking trails there. The state park, which was established recently, is a beautiful, natural area. The sounds and smell of the forests gave me energy that I rarely experience in civilization. And the man-made lake was calm and oozed an atmosphere of peace (an emotion I needed to feel after a stressful week at work). As we hiked and observed the many small critters that jumped out at us (and then quickly ran away) and colorful plants that brightly shined in photographs, my wife and I fell in love with one of Texas's wonderful oasis's. (below is a brief history of the Texas State Parks)

Overlooking the man-made lake at Cooper Lake State Park...such a beautiful scene.

The North American continent, especially Texas, exhibits many different geographical landscapes (plains, deserts, mountains, rolling hills, lakes, rivers, and flatlands). The Native Americans lived off the riches of land, growing corn and other crops that they could eat for dinner while hunting bison and large game for food and warmth. When the European settlers arrived in the seventeenth century, they faced the wilderness with anxiety yet a strong intention to use the land to their advantage. The rivers were utilized for trade and commerce, while the railroads that snaked across the Great Plains provided transportation for people and mail. However, as the American people moved out west in the nineteenth century, fulfilling their Manifest Destiny proposal, the large areas of nature gradually eroded. Soon, great quantities of animals, including the beloved bison, were threatened with extinction, and the future of American and Texan wildlife looked uncertain. The people of Texas were not entirely blind to the situation at hand; in the early 1860s, the Legislature passed laws to protect fish and other river wildlife against commercial killing. National concern for wildlife ensured, and many citizens feared that the death of American nature would be the extermination of their nation's greatness. In 1872, President Ulysses S. Grant, in response to the growing alarm, signed the Yellowstone National Park Protection Act into law, establishing one of the largest natural national parks in the United States. This law protected two million acres of geysers, vibrant landscapes and mountain wilderness, and thousands of creatures. Later, President Teddy Roosevelt used his sole executive power to create eighteen national monuments, including the Petrified Forest, Mesa Verde, and the Grand Canyon.

The Alamo church and long barracks in San Antonio were preserved by the Daughters of the Republic of Texas at the start of the twentieth century. The church had been a storage facility for Union soldiers after the Civil War. 

No Texas monuments or parks were established during the Roosevelt administration because, unlike other western states, Texas had retained control of its public lands when it was annexed to the United States in 1845. Only Texans could decide what they wanted to do with their sparkling lands. In 1907, a group of Texas women from the Daughters of the Republic of Texas organization mobilized a spirited campaign and persuaded the state legislature to buy more than 300 acres of the San Jacinto battlefield. This move was followed by successful efforts to reinstate preservation methods at the Fannin and Gonzales battlefields, Alamo long barracks, and Washington-on-the Brazos, where Texas's Declaration of Independence was signed. These were the first state parks in Texas. When Governor Pat Neff came to power in 1920, the story of Texas's state parks came to fruition. Neff, a politician who had a deeper commitment to the Texas outdoors, persuaded his colleagues in the Texas House and Senate to create a active State Parks Board. In a 1925 speech, Neff remarked that "pioneers have rarely recognized the value of play" but a parks system would afford a place where people "might go and forget the anxiety and strife and vexation of life's daily grind." Soon after, he traveled 8,000 miles to promote the state parks concept to Texas communities, large and small. The handsome, talented politician regarded this action as his most important achievement as governor. 

The inaugural State Parks Board in 1924 included (L-R) David E. Colp, Phoebe Warner, Governor Pat Neff, Mrs. W.C. Martin, Bob Hubbard, Mrs. James Waelder, and Hobert Key. Neff's political foes vocalized their opposition to the governor's state parks plan, citing that he had "never fired a gun or baited a hook" on Texas lands.

David Colp, an automobile dealer hailing from San Antonio, was named the chairman of the six-person State Parks Board. As an experienced lobbyist who had managed several large highway projects in the past, Colp knew how to get things done, swiftly and inexpensively and effectively. He worked with the governor and many other women organizations to raise money and public support for the new projects. The board quickly brainstormed ideas on locations for their proposed beautiful parks. Isabella Neff, the governor's mother and a vocal supporter of the nature preservation movement, had convinced her son to establish a state park at a small pecan grove along the Leon River prior to her death in 1921. Governor Neff deeded 250 acres of land south of Waco in Central Texas and opened the Mother Neff State Park in 1937. Despite some initial success and state wildlife conservation increasing, the State Parks Board struggled to gain a footing in the government during the late 1920s due to lack of funding; the Board members diligently served without pay for many years. By the 1930s, the State Parks Board was a tiny, forgotten agency. Other bigger, more-pressing matters occupied politics.

"All completed after a hard day of work!" CCC laborers finish digging a well at Big Bend State Park, 1934. More American men were enrolled in the CCC than in the Army at the end of the decade.

When the Great Depression hit Texas in the early 1930s, unemployment steadily rose and young men faced a fear no man would like to live through: how to feed your family at the dinner table each night. Franklin D. Roosevelt, a former New York governor, became president in 1933 and speedily introduced a line of progressive federal agencies and programs that would reestablish the thriving economy and get the American people back to work. The New Deal revitalize American hopes. One of these agencies, the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), was created on April 5, 1933, four weeks after the president had taken his seat in the Oval Office. The CCC leadership had an ambitious goal: to put 275,000 men to work by July 1. The CCC hired engineers, landscape designers, architects, and skilled craftsmen to work on state parks and infrastructure projects. Mass tree plantings and digging water wells were common projects at the Texas state parks. It is amazing to study New Deal programs because FDR's tireless actions quickly paved the way for thousands of unemployed citizens to get back on their feet and back at work (and at the same time appreciating the beauty of Texas's state parks). America's stable economy suddenly boomed at the offset of World War II in 1939 (although the nation did not officially enter the war until December 1941 after the Pearl Harbor attack). The state parks in Texas, including cabins, barracks, and flatlands, were used by military officers and soldiers-in-training. Also, the Texas legislature gave the Big Bend State Park deed to the federal government on June 6, 1944 (the day of the D-Day Invasions in Europe); Roosevelt greatly admired the stunning lands in West Texas.

John Connally, governor of Texas between 1963 and 1969, expanded the state parks.

The Texas state parks endured the dark days of WWII and the Great Depression. Yet, the dangers were far from over...the Panhandle faced a expansive drought in the 1950s; particularly, Lubbock's dry spells were bad (the city did not receive a trace of rain in the year 1952). Moreover, Hurricane Carla in 1961, labeled the most intense U.S. tropical cyclone landfill by weather scientists, devastated the Texas coast and plains, including the state parks. Brighter times appeared beyond the horizon for the state parks when Governor John Connally established the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department in 1963, an agency that would oversee all environmental projects and existing organizations, including the Game and Fish Commission. Also, Connally proposed a larger budget for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department and larger state parks near urban, highly-populated centers to boost tourism and attract out-of-state business to Texas. He succeeded in both goals. The number of state parks next to larger cities increased, and there was a number of dramatic improvements to the facilities at existing state parks, including new restrooms, shelters, fishing piers, water tanks and picnic areas. Following the passage of Texan LBJ's Civil Rights Act of 1964, the state parks desegregated and opened their opportunities to colored folks. The number of citizens that visit Texas's gorgeous state parks increases each year; there is an active appetite to explore the vast, splendid landscapes the Lone Star State has to offer. My wife and I have also star-gazed a couple of times at Cooper Lake State Park; and since we turned off our lights and were in the pitch dark, we were able to see many of the constellations on a clear night, including Orion, the Big Dipper, and the Little Dipper. The stars were alluring and a perfect way to end an incredible night. If you ever swing by a city or town in Texas, consider also visiting a neighboring state park, where I promise you will enjoy admiring Mother Nature and lose yourself in a world of bliss and peace.

Dog prints on one of the trails at Cooper Lake State Park. (I know my dog would love to chase the squirrels at the park!)

The hiking trails at Cooper Lake State Park are safe and clearly labeled.

There are many plants at Cooper Lake State Park; the Texas countryside is beautiful!

Cooper Lake State Park also offers shelters and camp sites.

"The greatest happiness possible to a man...is to become civilized, to know that pageant of the past, to love the beautiful, to have just ideas of values and proportions, and then, retaining his animal spirits and appetites, to live in a wilderness."  - J. Frank Dobie