Early Schools in Kerrville

During the past few weeks I've been talking about a part of our community's history which I call the "Golden Era" because so many of our enduring public institutions were founded during this time. This "Golden Era," as I've arbitrarily defined it, started around 1869 and continued through 1927.
Though education was important to the earliest settlers of our community, early schools met infrequently and often had gaps in sessions, largely because of the problems of finding qualified teachers, and partly because of funding problems. The first school was held in the log courthouse, with William E. Pafford as its first teacher, as early as 1857.
In the years up to the Civil War, several names are recorded as teachers in Kerrville's early schools. Bob Bennett, in his "Kerr County" history writes "It is evident that but little schooling was available in Kerrsville for the first several years after the organization of the county. The classroom equipment consisted of a rough table, slab seats, and a plentiful supply of switches."
The school moved from the courthouse to "a frame building on the site now occupied by the [old] Sid Peterson Memorial Hospital," at the corner of what is now Sidney Baker and Water streets. Later the school moved to the John Ochse Store, near the corner of Washington and Main streets.
After the Civil War there was a civic movement in Kerrville to have the school housed in a permanent facility, and classes were held in the bottom floor of a two story rock building at the corner of Main and Sidney Baker streets. But even this solution was temporary.
In 1883 a frame school building was erected on Jefferson Street, and was named the "Guadalupe Institute." Boys enrolled in the school were given training "rudimentary military tactics," and drilled by their instructor Professor J. C. Lord. "The company used wooden lances in place of guns." I imagine they were quite a sight.
Still, even with boys parading with wooden lances, many in Kerrville wanted a more permanent school system. Captain Joseph A. Tivy, Kerrville's first mayor, is really the father of our school system here, because he gave the land for the schools and also tracts that could be sold to help fund construction of a school building.
"Two deeds from Joseph A. Tivy to the City of Kerrville were executed on August 16, 1890, conveying certain properties 'chiefly in consideration of the deep interest I feel in the cause of public education and with a view of promoting and advancing the growth and development thereof in the City of Kerrville."
In those days the schools were run by the city government, a point that was hotly debated after Captain Tivy's gift. The City of Kerrville was organized in 1889, but in early 1890 a petition was given to the council "requesting that an election be held to determine 1) whether or not the town of Kerrville should have exclusive control of the free public schools within its limits; and 2) to determine whether the free public schools should be under the control of the board of aldermen or a board of [school] trustees."
In January 1890 the vote was held and the City retained control of the schools, but also calling for the appointment of a board of trustees. But, this being Kerrville, people were unhappy with this result and a new election was held in April 1890, and the city council was given "complete control of the school property, the hiring of teachers and all other matters pertaining to Kerrville Public Schools."

Tivy School, as seen before 1900

A new school building was designed by B. F. Trester, but the plans exceeded the community's budget of $8000. New plans were drawn by C. C. Williams, and the firm of Davy & Schott and Williams were awarded the contract. The completed building was accepted by the city council in February 1891.
This school building is now home of the Kerrville Independent School District's administrative offices. It was almost torn down in the 1980s, but a group of concerned citizens, including my friend Clarabelle Snodgrass, saved it from the bulldozers.
The first diplomas from Tivy High School were awarded in 1895 to a class of three students; none were awarded the next year, or the next. Three more students graduated in 1898.
It wasn't until 1923 that the Kerrville Independent School District was established by election.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who is a graduate of the Kerrville schools.

Recalling how the City of Kerrville got its start

I've arbitrarily assigned the years from 1869 to 1927 to "the Golden Era" of our community's history, since so many of the institutions we have in our community had their start during that time.
Take for instance, the City of Kerrville.
I decided to pull out my trusty Kerr County history book by Bob Bennett and read up on the founding of Kerrville.
Over 120 years ago, if you take the long view, the whole experiment began in a law office. On August 23, 1889, a group of Kerrville citizens met in the law office of Robert H. Burney and "definitely started the plans for incorporation." A petition was soon presented to the county judge, W. G. Garrett, signed by fifty "resident citizens and qualified voters of Kerrville, Texas" stating the "desire to incorporate said town of Kerrville for municipal purposes, in accordance to the laws of the State of Texas."

Charles Schreiner Company around 1895

Since the court was not in session, Judge Garrett granted the request 'in vacation' -- and an election "to determine whether or not said town of Kerrville shall be incorporated" was scheduled for September 7th, 1889. Consider that for a moment: from the first meeting in the lawyer's office until the election was held about two weeks passed. There were no lengthy studies, public hearings, prolonged debate. I wonder if the full Commissioners Court would have approved the election.
There was not a lot of voter turnout, either. The petition stated Kerrville was a "town of more than one thousand inhabitants," yet only 98 votes were cast in the election. The results: 95 for incorporation and 3 against.
The election for the new city's first mayor and aldermen was set for September 26th, where Joseph A. Tivy (yes, the same Tivy for which the high school was named) was elected mayor; A. C. Schreiner, W. W. Burnett, Ed Smallwood, B. C. Richards and Nathan Herzog were chosen as aldermen. If my memory local people is correct, Mr. Herzog was an employee of Mr. Schreiner. Ed Smallwood was the editor of the newspaper.
Ironically, the very first city council meeting in the City of Kerrville was held on Halloween, 1889, about two months after the process began.
At the first meeting Richards and Smallwood were named as a committee to draft ordinances for the city; at the second meeting, Richards was appointed to "devise ways and means for operating the city government;" Richards and Schreiner were named as the finance committee.
Taxes followed. Property taxes were 1/4 cent per $100 valuation; a dollar poll tax for all men aged 21 to 60; various occupation taxes were also levied. A dog tax was proposed, but failed to receive the necessary 2/3 vote to make it into law until it was proposed again the following year, putting a $1.50 tax on all dogs aged three months and older.
Some of the taxes and regulations of the new government seem rather quaint now. There were ordinances covering "fights between men and bulls, between dogs and bears, between dogs and other animals, and menageries or wax works exhibitions and concert where a fee was demanded or received." Between dogs and bears was specifically mentioned; I'm thinking the spectacle must have occured here at least once.
There were ordinances against "immoderately riding or driving on the streets," leaving your steed or wagon unhitched on city streets, vulgar language was illegal, and the "raising, hatching, or breeding of pigeons" within the city limits was also outlawed.
All able-bodied men "between the ages of eighteen and forty-five were required to give five days' work on streets during the year, and city officials were empowered to summon them as needed."
Things have certainly changed.
I suppose in ages hence the things concerning city government about which we're all talking about today will also seem rather quaint.
With all of the new taxes and regulations discontent blossomed in the hearts of many Kerrville citizens and a new election was called to dissolve the new city, though the question failed, and the young city survived.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who once was involved in city government.

What on Earth is going on in this space?

For the past 15+ years I’ve used this space to attempt to tell the story of our community’s history. The rest of the newspaper, in Philip Graham’s famous line, is the 'first rough draft of history;' my weekly paragraphs have been an attempt to provide a second rough draft of some of our community’s earliest stories.
Over 800 times I’ve carried a canary into the mines, while hoping to find a new vein in our community’s story here, some nugget to bring back to the surface. There have been a few times when the canary stopped singing, but I’ve always made it back out of the mine with the canary still alive.
I continue to be surprised by the generosity of my readers. This week two people have brought by historic newspapers as gifts. I’ve received several nice photographs for my collection of historic Kerrville photos. And just this morning a kind reader sent me a transcript of an oral history project, featuring the history a prominent local family. It included one of the funniest anecdotes I've read in a very long time, and one which I will share here soon.
I suppose my point is this: the story of this place is rich. I believe you could write a 1000 columns for a 1000 weeks and still not get the whole of it written down.
Not that these words have been meant to be scholarly or in any way a complete history of our community. There are others who do that better.
My paragraphs have been meant to be impressions, my limited impressions of the story of our community as I understand the story.
Some examples from my week, to help explain what I mean:
Coming home from work the other night, I stopped at the intersection of West Lane and Coronado, and, like a good driver, I checked both directions. Facing northwest, as I was, if you look down the hill and to the west, you can see two striking things, framed by the hills and lit by the glow of the setting sun: a church steeple and a schoolhouse.
They were golden in the evening sun.
When I was a boy this whole section of land was rugged and wild. We neighborhood boys used to build 'forts' there, far, we thought, from the expectations of adults. I used to trespass on the property all of the time when I was young; I'm pretty sure I climbed a certain tree on that large property, which, when the property was subdivided and sold into lots, is now confined in my own backyard.
Looking out at the scene from the saddle of Coronado hill, it's as if an entire community sprung up from what was once raw land. Where cattle once grazed there is now a church; where hay was once grown there is now a school.
Likewise, I was in the parking lot of the print shop this week when I heard the sound of glass breaking in the direction of the hospital. I went to investigate, of course. I looked up at the old girl and saw, through its broken windows, a little 'bobcat' tractor zipping around inside the structure, tearing down walls and pushing debris away.
It only took a moment to realize the little tractor was at work on the 4th floor, in what, when our son Joe 3 was born, was the delivery room. How sad it seemed to see the little machine destroy that particular room which had once been such an important place of joy and beginning in my little family's personal history.
Please don't take this 'impression' as a note against progress: I believe the new things coming to the down town area will be good for our community. And certainly the thousands of babies born in that particular room left it as soon as they were able. (Though I will always hold the memory of that night, with my wife and new son, in that jumbled little room, cluttered with boxes of supplies, regardless of whether the room itself exists. It was also Carolyn's 22nd birthday.)
But still, to see the hungry little tractor eat through those partition walls did jar me. A bit. It was as if another weary stone from my past was somehow dislodged, transformed from the concrete to something that could no longer be touched. It was now a photograph, maybe, if we're lucky, or a careful description: but it was no longer a place.
I am thankful to the management of the newspaper for trusting me with this space for so long. And I am thankful to you, Gentle Reader, for letting me whisper these old songs for you, week after week.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who could stand to lose a few pounds.

The Railroad comes to Kerrville

During the "Golden Era" of our community's history, the San Antonio & Aransas Pass railroad came to Kerrville.
The last depot for the line still stands and is now one of my favorite restaurants: "Rails, A Cafe at the Depot."
But the depot building housing the restaurant was almost vanished years ago.
There was a period when so many of our old buildings were torn down (in the name of progress) that I wondered if anything old would survive. In the span of a few short years landmarks such as the Bluebonnet Hotel, the First United Methodist Church, the Kellogg Building, the old bus station and the old wool warehouses downtown all vanished; many beautiful old homes along Sidney Baker Street also disappeared. So I am glad the old depot survived.
The depot was in danger of being demolished when the Walkers saved it, if I remember correctly, running a hamburger restaurant there, and I believe there was another restaurant in the building before Rails opened several years ago.
I remember the trains that came slowly through town when I was a child.
By the time I came on the scene here most of the remaining trains were freight trains. I do not remember a passenger train; they must have stopped earlier.
Hugh Hemphill, a train enthusiast and author, gave me a copy of a film made from the caboose of the last train to Kerrville, in 1971. Mr. Hemphill, who has written several histories of trains in Texas, is also with the Texas Transportation Museum in San Antonio.
According to the Texas Transportation Museum website, “at 11:45 AM on October 6, 1887, the first train arrived in Kerrville. On board the six Pullmans were 502 passengers, 200 from San Antonio, 131 from Boerne, 141 from Comfort and 30 from Center Point. Altogether this was 200 more people than actually lived in Kerrville. It was a banner day for the town, with parades and speeches.

The San Antonio & Aransas Pass Railway Depot in Kerrville

“At the center of it all was Captain Charles Schreiner, whose visionary plans for the community were being realized in front of his eyes. He had been a significant part of the effort to raise the $180,000.00 demanded by the railroad, the San Antonio and Aransas Pass, before it began work just over a year earlier, August 26, 1886. With the 71 mile line complete, Kerrville's future growth and expansion were assured.”
The depot which now houses Rails restaurant came later, in 1915, according the website. The first depot had been destroyed by fire in 1913, and for 2 years the community had been without a depot.
Of the new depot, the Kerrville Mountain Sun reported “the structure is to be of brick, and will be modern throughout. When completed it will be one of the handsomest passenger depots in a small town in the state.”
I think it's still a handsome building.
My own memories of the train include its low rumbling and the clacking of its wheels as they passed gaps in the rails; the rail line was next to the playing field beside First Baptist Church, running along North Street there. Many of us children (who should have been inside the church instead of playing baseball outside it) would run alongside the train as it passed, begging the engineer to blow the whistle.
On those evenings we were actually sitting inside the church we’d listen for the train. In those days, before air-conditioning was considered such a necessity, the big blue stained glass windows of the church would often be left open. In addition to the occasional bird (or bat) that flew into the sanctuary, the rumbling of the train was always a welcome distraction. Again from our pews we children would silently urge the engineer to blow the train’s whistle, and when he did, the preacher would pause, look out the south windows, and wait.
Even this brief respite was welcome.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who often daydreamed, as a boy, of hopping the train as it left town, just to see where it went. Especially during evening services at church.