The Truth about Captain Charles Schreiner

Capt. Charles Schreiner

I had a nice surprise this recently.
Aaron Riley brought by a copy of his master’s thesis, “Captain Charles Schreiner: More than General Merchandise,” completed in 2007.
Frankly, I receive a lot of books from people. Most of them are outside my area of interest – I'm interested in the history of our community – but a few are right on the mark.
This thesis about Captain Schreiner was exceptionally interesting and I read the entire book the day I received it.
Although Schreiner’s name is familiar to most people in our community, largely because of the university which bears his name, few really know his story. And with the recent closing of the department store (which he founded on Christmas Eve, 1869) along with last decade’s departure of the Charles Schreiner Bank, the very public businesses that carried his name are now gone.
I believe the central argument Mr. Riley’s thesis was Captain Schreiner’s wealth and influence had less to do with the Charles Schreiner Company than is generally believed.

Charles Schreiner Company around 1890
at the corner of Water and Mountain Streets
(Mountain Street is now called Earl Garrett)

Sure, the store was the foundation of the business empire Captain Schreiner built. It was the tree which sheltered the growth of the Captain’s other enterprises. But many of those other enterprises dwarfed the economic return of the store. The store was strong, but some other businesses owned by Schreiner were actually much stronger.
What were some of these other enterprises?
The first involved cattle. Schreiner and partners drove cattle north to markets in Kansas, a fact that is probably well known in our area. What might surprise you is this: they probably made more money providing a service to other ranchers: a partnership of which Schreiner was a member contracted with other ranches to drive their cattle north. This was an extremely lucrative business for the partnership, and, for the most part, avoided most of the risks carried by the ranchers. The cattle received were already raised, healthy, and fattened up for market; Schreiner and his partners received a healthy fee for getting the cattle from point A to point B. Thus the ranchers had already run the risks associated with raising the cattle, and had paid the expenses for the raising of the cattle. There were risks, of course, in driving the cattle north, but those risks existed whether the cattle were driven by Schreiner and his partners or by the ranchers themselves.
Schreiner himself did not go on the trail drives, but stayed in the Kerrville area and ran the business end of things from here.
And then there were sheep and goats, livestock that was an anathema to most cattle ranchers, but which Schreiner championed in several important ways.
First, through his bank, he influenced ranchers to diversify into sheep and goats. Basically some of the loans to ranchers for livestock stipulated that some of the capital was to be spent on sheep and goats. I’m sure this was not always well received, but there was cleverness in Schreiner’s policy. Sheep provided an opportunity for profit twice a year, when the wool was clipped, plus the additional opportunity for sale as meat; goats offered similar advantages to cattle.
These fiber products also helped Schreiner build a market for what was possibly his most clever enterprise: wool and mohair warehousing. While he cannot be credited with creating this concept, one could certainly argue he perfected it. In fact, there was a time when Kerrville – little Kerrville, on the edge of the Chihuahuan Desert, far from any large cities – was credited with more mohair commission sales than any other market in the world. Schreiner had, in other words, not only created a market for these fibers, but had cornered that market.
Let’s just say his efforts were profitable.
Of course the other thing people talk about is the amount of land Schreiner owned, which, at its height, was over a half-million acres. What they fail to realize is this land was not held merely for the value of the real estate: it was held to create wealth through his other enterprises. The land was productive and rarely acquired for mere speculation.
Charles Schreiner was quite remarkable, actually, and it saddens me how the memory of this very enterprising man, like the memory of the mighty Ozymandias, has become diluted over time to something almost vapor-like. Soon little will be left of his efforts here, and that’s a shame.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who welcomes items about the history of Kerr County at the print shop on Water Street.  You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks for your interest, Joe

Wow! Thanks for a great first week.

In the first seven days of this blog's existence, it's logged 1345 pageviews from visitors from 6 countries.  Woo hoo!   Perhaps people are interested in Kerrville, Kerr County and its history.  Thanks everyone!


You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks for your interest, Joe

About James Kerr's diary

James Kerr's diary

It’s a small leather-bound book, about the size of a checkbook, though thicker, that I found at the Texas State Archives, and it contains the jottings of James Kerr, the man for whom our county is named. Kerr was a prominent member of the political class during the Texas Revolution, and this memorandum book is filled with interesting references to Texas history – written as the events unfolded.
Major James Kerr was born in Boyle County, Kentucky, on September 24, 1790, one of ten children born to a circuit-riding Baptist preacher and a woman named Patience. He came to Texas after some time in Missouri, where he served as a sheriff, state representative, and state senator. Winning that last office, the seat in the state senate, was one of the reasons he came to Texas: the man he defeated happened to be his father-in-law, and this caused some discord in the family. Soon after the election, Kerr and his young family headed to Texas, a part of the DeWitt Colony.
Tragedy struck the family on their journey; Kerr’s wife, Angeline, and two of their three children died on the journey. The only survivors were Kerr and his daughter Mary Margaret. This was in 1825.
In October 1826 Kerr built a log fort known as ‘the Old Station’ on the Lavaca river, and remained in that area for the rest of his life.
The small memorandum book I found in the Archives is dated oddly – it appears to be dated 1835, but a plausible argument could be made that the date was originally 1834. It’s my opinion the book was started in l834 and the date changed.
On its first page Kerr recorded a Bible verse: Psalms: XLIX v:20 “Man that is in honour and understandeth not is like the beasts that perish.”
On the inside cover page and the first page are all sorts of scribblings, from the Bible verse to surveying information, sketches of several livestock brands. These notes are written in both pen and pencil.
The most poignant note on the inside cover tells the sad story of Jack:
“Jack was drowned in LaVaca December 23rd on Tuesday returning from Guadalupe – found January 1st, 1835 Interred 2nd day in the evening.”
There is another reference to a “Jack” in the book, though they can’t be the same person.
The entry for March 3rd, 1836 reads
“Left Lavaca for fear of Indians and Mexicans. Cash on hand $172.00. Cash recd of T Davis $20. Cash recd of cattle for horse $20. [Total] 212.00. Sold Jack for $110.00. [Total] $322.00. One $5 note. [Total] $327.00”
This entry was near the time of the fall of the Alamo which was noted in Kerr’s book in July. “Memorandum. Fall of the Alamo 6th of March 1836. Col Fannin left Goliad on Saturday the [illegible] day of March [illegible] with Urea 20 and was masacreed [sic] on the 27.”
On July 28th the entry reads “Michel Andrews came in 5 days from Bastrop & informs that about 3 weeks ago the Indians burnt the town and destroyed the improvements.”
There are many entries like this. The Texas frontier was harsh.
Historic persons are mentioned on the pages, from President Burnet to “the spy” Deaf Smith.
Until next week, all the best.

You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks for your interest, Joe

James Kerr's little diary

The Diary of James Kerr

I thought some of you might like to see what James Kerr's diary looked like.  I stumbled across the little book at the Texas State Archives, jumbled in an old file, with other documents relating to Kerr.

You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks for your interest, Joe

Chapter 4: The thing most people don't know about Major James Kerr

James Kerr

Some readers have asked if I’m telling the truth about discovering something new about Major James Kerr, for whom Kerrville and Kerr County were named. It’s true. There is something about Major James Kerr that few people in Kerrville know. I have used the past three posts trying to get to the new information, though limitations of space have prevented me (so far) from reporting what I’ve learned.
(This series of articles began after a chance meeting with Walter Womack, a descendent of Major James Kerr, intrigued me because of one small comment Mr. Womack made: “You know,” he told me, “there is one thing few people know about James Kerr.”)
So please be patient with me. I’m getting to it. There is some background information I need to share first – the story of James Kerr and his family. In last week’s column, the Kerrs have decided to move to Texas. Kerr, after resigning from the Missouri state senate, has agreed to become the surveyor for Green DeWitt at his colony on the lower Guadalupe River.
“It was the year 1825 when the Kerrs started for Texas,” writes James Kerr Crain, a descendant of James Kerr, in a 1957 biographical sketch. “In New Orleans James Kerr met the agent of Stephen F. Austin, the ‘Father of Texas’ and received from him a letter of introduction to that great pioneer and leader.”
Crain continues: “I will digress at this point to say that Mr. Kerr was permitted to retain his slaves in Texas on the rather specious … grounds that the Mexican law forbade the importation of ‘American Slaves’ and since the Kerr slaves had lived in Missouri when it was a French Possession, it was decided they were not ‘American Slaves.’
Our community’s namesake owned slaves and brought them here through a loophole in Mexican law. I am not proud of this fact, but I want to report the whole story.
“The little family finally obtained passage in a coastwise packet and landed in Brazoria in the spring of 1825. The hardships of the long journey from Ste. Genevieve and of life in their now surroundings soon exacted a heavy toll, on the 27th of July 9 1825 the young wife and mother died in their temporary camp on the Bernard about four or five mile from Columbia. Her unfortunate husband was absent at the time on a trip to locate a suitable site for their future home in the Green DeWitt Colony.”
So Angeline Caldwell Kerr born in Kentucky, married in Missouri, died in Texas at the tender age of twenty-three, leaving behind three small children, the youngest of whom was not yet one year old.
“Her burial service was read by one of the noblest of the pioneer woman of Texas, Mrs. Mary E. Bell. Her coffin was hollowed from an oak log by faithful slaves. In 1853 her daughter, my grandmother, had the remains removed to the church cemetery in West Columbia and a marble slab placed over them. The inscription upon this slab is worthy of note:
“In Memory of Angeline Caldwell/ Wife of James Kerr, Born in Kentucky, Feb. 6, 1802, and died on June 7, 1825. By Foreign hands thy dying eyes are closed/ By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed/ By foreign hands thy humble grave adorned /By strangers honored and by strangers mourned.
“Thus James Kerr returned to his camp on the Bernard to find his wife in her grave, and the three little children under the care of Mrs. Bell. He had located a home in Texas that only he of the little family would see for many years, and then one only---his little daughter. He set out for his new home with the three young children and his slaves. His home was to be on the bank of the Guadalupe River where now stands the city of Gonzales. The father carried his infant son in his arms on horseback, and in his arms the little fellow died just a few weeks after his mother's death. And the older boy just turned five died three weeks later. So within a few months after reaching [Texas] only the father and the three year old daughter remained of the happy family of five.”
I’ve run out of space again, Gentle Reader. I hope in the next post to get to the new information about Major James Kerr.
Until then, all the best.

You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks for your interest, Joe

Another page from James Kerr's diary -- mentioning Deaf Smith.

The Diary of James Kerr, from the
Texas State Archives

On a trip to the Texas State Archives, in Austin, I happened to stumble across James Kerr's diary.  This is his handwriting.  I chose to photograph this page because of its mention of Deaf Smith.

This diary and several other personal items of Major James Kerr were stored in a little envelope at the State Archives building next to the Capitol.  The fingers are mine.

You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks, Joe

An Actual Page from James Kerr's Diary

On a trip to the Texas State Archives, in Austin, I happened to stumble across James Kerr's diary.  This is his handwriting.  I chose to photograph this page because of its mention of an event: "The Fall of the Alamo."

James Kerr's Diary

This diary and several other personal items of Major James Kerr were stored in a little envelope at the State Archives building next to the Capitol.

You can get email updates once a day when new articles are posted by clicking here. Thanks, Joe

Chapter 3: Something you didn't know about James Kerr

Maj. James Kerr

It’s true. There is something about Major James Kerr that few people in Kerrville know. I have used the past two columns trying to get to the new information, though limitations of space have prevented me (so far) from reporting what I’ve learned.
And it’s also true, if we followed the historical fact I’ve learned, it would change the way we think about our community’s name.
A chance meeting with Walter Womack, a descendent of Major James Kerr, intrigued me because of one small comment Mr. Womack made: “You know,” he told me, “there is one thing few people know about James Kerr.”
James Kerr, you may remember, is the person for whom our county and Kerrville are named. Joshua D. Brown, the founder of our community, named the small village he’d begun after his friend; the state, in 1856, named our county after him. Yet it’s unlikely Kerr ever visited the community which carries his name, and he never knew of the honor the state had given him when it named the county for him, since he’d died years before the frontier county was named.
But before I get into the Kerr story, I noticed what has become a community-wide scavenger hunt for special rabbit hats, each of which can be traded for a pair of free tickets to the Point Theater production of “Harvey.” The hats, hidden around town, come in several colors and are all “modified” to accommodate a six-foot-tall rabbit. If you find one, simply take it to the Point Theater’s box office for a pair of free tickets to the show.
Little is known about Major James Kerr – it would be hard to fill up several pages with facts about his life – and the few sources of information we have tend to be repeated in only a few older books – so gaining new information about this man is always helpful (and somewhat rare).
Last week I reported that Mr. Womack sent me a link to a sketch written in 1957 by Maj. Gen. James Kerr Crain, a descendent of Major James Kerr.
“After the war [of 1812] ended,” writes Gen. Crain, “James Kerr was elected Sheriff of St. Charles County [Missouri], then extending to Boone's Lick. He held the position of sheriff for four years. On July 23, 1818, James married Angeline Caldwell of Ste. Genevieve County. She was the daughter of Major James Caldwell.” 
This marriage, and an odd conflict Kerr had with his father-in-law, are the reason Kerr and his family decided to move to Texas. If it weren’t for a Missouri state senate election, who knows what our community would be named today.
“In 1819 or 1820 the young couple moved to Ste. Genevieve County to live,” writes Crain. “Kerr’s father in law, Major Caldwell, was one of the most popular men in Missouri. He had lived in Kentucky before removing to Missouri and had represented Harrison County in the lower branch of the Kentucky Legislature in the years 1800, 1807, and 1808. Angeline Caldwell was born in Kentucky on February 8. 1802.
“James Kerr was very popular with the young man of the community, and in 1822 he was elected to the Missouri House of Representatives. Major Caldwell was at that time a member of the State Senate, and then occurred on of those unfortunate events which change the lives and destinies of men. In 1824, against the wishes of James Kerr, he was elected to the State Senate defeating his father-in-law Major Caldwell. The old gentleman was so indignant at his first political defeat, and this at the hands of his son-in-law, from that time he refused to speak to him. 
“Because of this unpleasant situation and because of his wife's health, James Kerr that same year resigned his seat in the State Senate which had been thrust upon him, and made plans to move to Texas. Green DeWitt of Ralls County, Missouri, was interested in organizing a colony to go to Texas, and James Kerr agreed to assist DeWitt and to become surveyor of the colony.”
Well, I’ve done it again. I haven’t made it to the one new thing I’ve learned about Major James Kerr. I hope you’ll bear with me; I’ll try to get it all squeezed in next week.
Until then, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who would make a lousy radio announcer. You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/joeherring or on Twitter at www.twitter.com/joeherringjr  You can also get email updates when new articles are posted by clicking here.

Watching the Old Girl Go.

The demolition of Sid Peterson Memorial Hospital.
Taken this morning, July 28, 2010

A lot of our community's history has taken place at the eastern corner of Water and Sidney Baker streets, according to Bob Bennett, writing in his 1956 book “Kerr County Texas: 1856 – 1956.”
Early in the history of our community, during the Civil War, there was a school on the site, housed in a frame building, location of some of the first classes held in the county. He also writes that some of the first county court sessions were held there.
Later, hotels were on the site. Dr. G. R. Parsons opened a hotel there in the late 1870s; after Dr. Parsons the hotel was operated W. Scott and J. H. Back. J. H. Back became our postmaster in 1888, and the post office was then located in a part of the hotel building.
In 1884, the site saw the construction of the St. Charles Hotel. It was originally a frame building, but later, from photos I’ve seen, it was remodeled in it looks to be a stucco building. The St. Charles was operated by several families, including the families of Lee Mason, Mr. & Mrs. George Morris, and William Nimitz. Nimitz had a stepson who lived with him and attended Tivy High School, a sailor named Chester Nimitz who rose to some prominence in the U. S. Navy.
But the old St. Charles Hotel, as grand as it was, faded.
Joe Baulch, in his history of Schreiner University writes: "Part of the school's endowment was a note secured by Kerrville's aging St. Charles Hotel, whose owners defaulted, ownership passing to the school. Operating the old hotel was deemed improbable, and the property taxes were burdensome. After a fire burned a portion of the old building, most of the remainder was razed and the lumber was used throughout the depression decade to build partially the shops, faculty housing, two new barracks buildings, garages, an infirmary, a chemistry laboratory, and additions to the gymnasium [at Schreiner]."A couple of sentences later Baulch says that through the sale of the St. Charles and some other properties, ‘the school was able to balance its books throughout the Depression years....’”
After the St. Charles Hotel was removed, "The Nook," a restaurant was on the site. William Howard and Tommie Blackburn owned and ran the restaurant. They also ran “The Cozy Grill,” which was housed at at least two locations on Water Street.
Then in 1949 the restaurant building was dismantled (and stored on the Blackburn's ranch) to make way for a project of Hal and Charlie Peterson, a hospital they built as a memorial to their father, Sid Peterson.
Bennett writes: “Sid Peterson, affectionately and respectfully known as “Cap,” was born in Lavaca County on January 15, 1868. He moved with his parents to Gonzales County when he was an infant. The family came to Kerr County in 1880. As a youth, Sid C. Peterson went up the trail to Kansas with cattle herds; in his later years he became one of the most substantial ranchmen and landholders in the Hill Country. In 1898 he married Myrta Goss, daughter of Spence Goss, who was wounded in a fight with Indians in western Kerr County in 1857.
“Sid C. Peterson died in 1939, and Mrs. Myrta Peterson died in 1951.
“Kerrville took another stride forward as a leading Southwest Texas medical center when the Sid Peterson Memorial Hospital was formally opened on July 3, 1949. This million-dollar hospital, modern to the last detail, was built by the Sid Peterson Foundation.”
What is next for the corner? Only time will tell.
Until next week, all the best.


Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who was born one block from his workplace. You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/joeherring or on Twitter at www.twitter.com/joeherringjr  You can also get email updates when new articles are posted by clicking here.

Chapter 2: The surprising fact about James Kerr

Major James Kerr

A chance meeting with Walter Womack, a descendent of Major James Kerr, intrigued me because of one small comment Mr. Womack made: “You know,” he told me, “there is one thing few people know about James Kerr.”
James Kerr, you may remember, is the person for whom our county and Kerrville are named. Joshua D. Brown, the founder of our community, named the small village he’d begun after his friend; the state, in 1856, named our county after him. Yet it’s unlikely he ever visited the community which carries his name, and he never knew of the honor the state had given him, since he’d died years before the county was named.
Little is known about Major James Kerr – it would be hard to fill up several pages with facts about his life – and the few sources of information we have tend to be repeated in only a few older books – so gaining new information about this man is always helpful (and somewhat rare).
In my last post I reported that Mr. Womack had sent me a link to a sketch written in 1957 by Maj. Gen. James Kerr Crain, himself a distinguished Texan from Lavaca and DeWitt counties, a graduate of West Point and an Army veteran of both World Wars. Our Major Kerr was Crain’s great-grandfather.
Major James Kerr was born in Boyle County, Kentucky, on September 24, 1790, one of ten children born to a circuit-riding Baptist preacher and a woman named Patience.
“Despite the fact their father was a minister of the gospel,” writes James Crain, “or perhaps because of that fact, the Kerr boys were not overly observant of his precepts. On one occasion just as the Reverend James Kerr's small congregation was emerging from a Sunday morning service a group of whooping boys came rushing by with one of their number astride an astonished and cavorting cow, The scandalized preacher recognized the equally horrified rider as his son James. Thus James junior gave early indication of a fondness for the unconventional. Perhaps he had inherited it from that part of his father's character that had led the latter to elope to the wilderness with little more than a charming bride and a single horse.”
Our Major James Kerr served in the War of 1812.
“The Adjutant General of the Army wrote … that one James Kerr served in the War of l812 as a sergeant in a company designated at various times as Captain Daniel M. Boone's [the son of the famous frontiersman, Daniel Boone] and Captain James Callaway's Company of Mounted Rangers, United States Volunteers. His Federal service began 19 May 1813; was reduced to private 14 January 1814, and his service ended 19 May 1814. The Adjutant General of Missouri sent me a copy of the receipt roll signed by James Kerr for his pay and allowances for the period April 29-May 18th 1813, while in the service of the Territory. The amounts covered by the receipt are interesting because of their size. It is startling to note that for twenty days service his pay was $5.17; and his subsistence allowance was twenty-eight cents! Not quite a cent and a half a day. His travel pay was fifty cents. But his allowance for his horses was $48.00 which was more than his pay plus all other allowances.”
The sketch includes an account of Kerr’s actions as a soldier:
“In 1813 he was second in command to Captain Boone in Boone's defeat on the Illinois River, and Kerr received great praise for his conduct during the retreat. During that same summer he and two others were ambushed by seventeen Indians at the mouth of the Salt River in Missouri. in the ensuing fight his horse was wounded three times and finally killed under him. The party escaped because of his cool daring and a well contrived ruse. My mother told me the ruse consisted in securing a camp kettle to the end of a log to represent a cannon, and the Indians were unwilling to close in on what they thought to be that much feared weapon.”
Clever, indeed.
Well, I’ve done it again: I’ve run out of space before coming to the new information I’ve found about Major James Kerr. I hope I’ll be able to get it all my next post.
Until then, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who is thinking about writing a book on the history of our area.  You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/joeherring or on Twitter at www.twitter.com/joeherringjr  You can also get email updates when new articles are posted by clicking here.

Down she goes.

Sent from my BlackBerry® Smartphone by WCW

The Cross Controversy

The Cross erected today by
The Coming King Foundation

Years ago (in December 2007) I wrote a column about the 77'7" cross the Coming King Foundation proposed erecting just north of Kerrville.  This was when only (Mr.) James Avery and I were the only ones speaking out against this construction. Today that cross was pulled to the sky by a giant crane.  While my opinion of the project has not changed since then, I thought providing a little perspective might help.  What follows is the column I wrote for the Kerrville Daily Times about the prospect of this giant symbol on the outskirts of Kerrville:

Building a Giant Cross is a bad idea. 

I have no agenda, nor am I “mad at God,” but I think the proposed erection of an oversized cross near the intersection of IH10 and SH16 is an idea that needs to be reconsidered.
It will be taken as heresy by many in our community, but you can actually think the project is tacky and still believe that Christ was exactly who He said He was. You can be a Christian and oppose the scheme being foisted upon our community.
If I understand what a number of Sunday School teachers have been trying to teach me since I was but a wee sinner, the greatest monuments of faith are not built of steel and concrete, carved from marble or cast in bronze. The true monuments of faith cannot be seen at all.
Seeing the drawing of the grounds (which was published on page one of Friday’s edition of this newspaper), of a ‘sculpture garden’ surrounded by parking lots and casual dining restaurants confirmed my worst fears. As envisioned in the drawing, you’d have a serene garden encircled by restaurants, an island of spirituality surrounded by brightly-lit temples of food. (And acres of parking.)
The published schematic makes you wonder if the organizers of the garden have chosen the wrong symbol to emblazon upon the green hills of our valley – looking at the drawing, with all of its commercial emphasis, one could imagine a giant dollar sign instead of a giant cross being erected on the location. Or at least a giant fork or table spoon.
I suppose it’s only a historical accident a giant cross would be considered appropriate. The cross, for those who might’ve missed a sermon or two, was a crude and excruciating form of execution favored by the Roman Empire at the time Christ was sacrificed for our sins.
Had the Romans been fond of killing prisoners with a noose or a fusillade of arrows, I suppose the organizers of this particular scheme would be contemplating the building of a giant noose or enormous arrow. Had Pilate ordered Christ poisoned, millions of people might be wearing a tiny hemlock leaf around their necks today.
And though this horrible instrument of suffering has been a favorite of the faithful for two millennia, aren’t there better symbols of Christianity? How about a stone (as in either rock upon which the Church was built, or as in the stone which was rolled away from the entrance to an empty tomb)? Or a dove (as descended from heaven when Christ was baptized)? Even the Ichthus, that two-stroke shibboleth meant to be scratched in the dust, a symbol born of oppression, would be better than perpetuating Rome’s efficient killing system with a giant gaudy cross erected a great cost in our community.
Having said all of this, I still believe the owners of that property, as long as they comply with all applicable laws, can erect whatever they care to erect on that property. It’s a free country, and people are free to do what they want, thank God.
But in the words of the great philosopher Shrek, who, upon observing the giant tower built by Lord Farquaad, wondered aloud if Farquaad was “compensating for something,” I wonder what motivates people to contemplate the building of a giant Roman cross, especially a giant Roman cross surrounded by chain restaurants.
A rough wooden cross was enough to separate Christ’s earthly body from His spirit, and during His suffering I’m fairly certain He didn’t look out over a field of parking lots and a plethora of neon signs. There wasn’t a museum or gift shop on that lonely hill of death that Passover weekend, just the Son of God and two others, nailed to wooden beams, dying at the hands of an Empire using a method both cruel and cheap. Lord only knows what those who built that particular cross two-thousand years ago would have thought of the proposed giant replica, but one would guess they’d find the idea one filled with gallows humor.
I’m related to a couple who own some property just down the Interstate from the proposed site of the giant cross. Perhaps I can persuade them to erect a giant Question Mark. Or Star and Crescent. Or Dollar Sign.
Nah, I doubt they’d go for that scheme: too costly and too silly.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native whose personal faith is really none of your business. You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/joeherring or on Twitter at www.twitter.com/joeherringjr

Chapter 1: I Discover a Secret About James Kerr

Major James Kerr,
for whom Kerrville
is named.

I have discovered something new about Major James Kerr, the man for whom Kerrville and Kerr County are named, and this new fact was discovered after a chance encounter with one of his descendants.
As some may know, I once served on the board of the Kerrville Folk Festival, I think as their token non-Folkie. While visiting the grounds there during the past festival, Stuart Vexler, chairman of the festival board, introduced me to Walter Womack, a descendent of Major James Kerr. “You know,” he told me, “there is one thing few people know about James Kerr.”
I listened closely. If true, it would add an interesting new fact to the slim biography we have of the man for whom our community is named. Mr. Womack promised to send along additional information, and, after a few weeks, I received a link to a website which included family history, complete with a lengthy sketch about James Kerr.
The sketch was written in 1957 by Maj. Gen. James Kerr Crain, himself a distinguished Texan from Lavaca and DeWitt counties, a graduate of West Point and an Army veteran of both World Wars. "Our" Major Kerr was Crain’s great-grandfather.
“My mother's maternal grandfather was Major James Kerr, for whom I am named,” wrote James Kerr Crain. “The title of Major derived from a commission he held in the army of the Republic of Texas. This James Kerr played a prominent part in the early days of Texas and of Missouri and like all who stood out in those days he was a hardy character. Major Kerr's grandfather, also named James was born in Ireland. He is described in John Henry Brown's Family Register, prepared in Indianola, Texas, in 1853, as "an Irishman fresh from the bog, very fond of his grog, and when groggy very piously inclined." This same Register relates that this James Kerr married the widow Hyde in Pennsylvania in about 1746. From this marriage there were three children, two daughters and another James Kerr. The son, James Kerr, was born in Pennsylvania October 8, 1749. He became a circuit rider of the Baptist church in what was then Virginia. in the course of the circuit riding he became acquainted with the family of Richard Wells. He fell in love with Patience Wells, reputed to have been so named because she was one of twenty-four children. His affection was reciprocated by Patience, but not by her parents, so the young couple eloped with Patience riding double behind the impetuous parson whose worldly goods consisted of one horse.
The newly married pair removed to Kentucky and settled about two miles from Danville, now (in 1853) Boyle County, Kentucky. There in 1790 my great-grandfather James was born on September 24th. He was one of ten children. As this number crowded the family nest several of the young brood removed to Missouri which was then a part of French Louisiana. The Preacher and Patience visited their children in Missouri and there Patience died. Preacher James returned to Kentucky and later married Phebe Bonham; there were no children of this marriage. By 1808 all of the Kerrs, including the father and his second wife, had removed to St. Charles County, Missouri. The elder James Kerr is said to have been the first Protestant minister west of the Mississippi River.”
Well, Gentle Reader, I really hate to see that I’ve run out of room in my post today: I haven’t gotten to the new interesting thing about Major James Kerr yet. Perhaps I can squeeze it in next time.
Until then, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who hopes to write a book about the history of our area.  You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/joeherring, or on Twitter at http://twitter.com/joeherringjr.

Update on Photo Controversy

Yesterday I posted a photo about which former mayor John M. Mosty and I disagree.  Several of you looked at the photo and suggested it was taken from above Remschel Street in Kerrville, facing south, looking over the Guadalupe River to the hills beyond.

The original photograph, taken by John M. Mosty's father,
about which John and Joe Herring Jr. have a friendly
disagreement.  From which hillside do you
think this photo was taken?

Click on the image above to enlarge.

So today, following several of your suggestions, I climbed the Remschel hill and took the following picture.  For those who do not know, Remschel is the little street connecting Clay to Stadium; it's near Tivy Stadium, parallel to Sidney Baker street.

Taken July 26, 2010.  Notice the hills in the distance.

Do you think the view is a match?

Let me know.  Feel free to share this photo with anyone you'd care to, including your friends on Facebook.  (There's a button just below this story to do just that!)

Photograph stirs up controversy

Two former Kerrville mayors can't agree on this photograph of Kerrville. 
From where do you think it was taken?

Click on the image to enlarge. 

John M. Mosty was Kerrville's youngest mayor in history -- until I took office in 1992, at the age of 30. So we're a lot alike.  Like me, he's a Kerrville native, and we both have a keen interest in Kerr County history.  And we both have more than a "passing interest" in Kerrville politics.

John's dad took this photo of Kerrville after a snowfall.  I'm not sure of the date.

But John and I politely disagree about this photograph -- in fact, we're almost exactly 180 degrees apart.  I think it was taken from one side of the Guadalupe River valley; he thinks it was taken from the other side.  We've had discussions about this photo for several years now.

What do you think?  If you have a guess from what part of town this photo was taken, please leave a comment.

Also, if you could share this photo with your Facebook friends (there's a button right below this story), we could get more "eyes" looking at the photo, and perhaps we can settle this controversy!   Please comment below, or on Facebook.   Thanks!

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native.  You can connect with Joe Herring Jr. at www.facebook.com/JoeHerring

Background to the "Kerrville in the Snow" photograph controversy

There’s one idea to keep in mind when you study history, and, though it sounds silly, it really makes a difference. When you’re reading about some pioneer, or some historic figure, you must remember that the person about which you’re studying had no idea he lived a long time ago.
He or she was like us: life is lived in the present. To Joshua Brown, the day he and his band of shingle makers made their first camp here was just a day. It was “now” to him, not a date in the mid-1840s.
I say this because we often put our own assumptions onto historical figures, eras. For example, at the turn of the last century it took over a day to travel from Kerrville to Junction. The road was good, but steep in some places. In other places you crossed streams and riverbeds. We would consider it a very difficult journey. There would be a lot of work involved: getting the horses ready, checking the wagon, loading any freight, loading provisions for the trip, making sure you had equipment for any unexpected contingencies. If a wheel broke, you might spend a few nights out in the open. If your journey had taken place just after the Civil War, and a band of Indians chose to make your passage “difficult,” you might find yourself in a quite frightening situation.
Those who lived here in that time had no idea travel by automobile from Kerrville to Junction would someday take less than an hour.
In their world, that journey took about a day, with stops along the way. It wasn’t a huge deal. A day’s travel was just what it took. They didn’t think “I wish this only took an hour.”
We color our understanding of history when we look at the experience of those who lived here before us through the goggles of our own experience.
We might get nostalgic about the horses, or the buggy, or the fact that the hills between here and Junction would have not been crowded, that the night sky would have been brighter, that the game along the road would have been, by today’s standards, quite fantastic. (Lots of bears, for example.)
Likewise some of the beliefs those people had in those days were not like our beliefs today. Today we believe man can fly, even so far as to the moon. We know prejudice is wrong. We know we can pick up a small device, push a few buttons, and instantly talk with someone on the other side of the planet. We know we can hop in the car and in a few minutes find ourselves at one of hundreds of tables around town enjoying a hot meal – and we have choices about our cuisine (Italian, Tex-Mex, Southern, etc.).
In the middle of the 19th century, none of these things were known as they are known today.
There are some art historians who can identify the period in which a painting was created by merely looking at the brushstrokes. That means, to my argument here, I suppose, our times dictate very much about us, even small minute things most of us would overlook, like a brushstroke.
This past week I studied for a very long time (almost to the point of obsession, to be frank) a photograph my friend John M. Mosty brought by. The photograph is of Kerrville, taken from a hillside, after a snow. I suppose what I was trying to do, as I looked at it over and over again, using my computer to magnify and sharpen its minute details, was determine from what point the photograph was taken. Knowing from which hill Mosty’s father took the photo would tell me what was pictured in it.
Despite my effort I’m still not sure about the subject of the photo; there are two competing theories, and both are plausible.
Then I realized it wasn’t important to know exactly from which hill the photo was taken. When Mr. Mosty’s father took the photo, he couldn’t have known that the valley before him would someday have this building built here or that built there. He wouldn’t have known about the roads that would someday be built, roads that circle the sleeping town like a crown.
The moment that photo was taken, on some unknown hill around here, I’m pretty sure the thoughts were more “the snow is lovely on the quiet town,” and “my goodness, it’s cold.”
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who enjoys thinking about the past.  You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/JoeHerring

Who was Captain Joseph Tivy?

Captain Joseph Tivy

Joseph Albert Tivy was born in Toronto, Canada during the winter of 1818, raised and educated in New York State, and headed to Texas when he was 19, when it was a new republic. That’s right, he came here as soon as he could, like so many of you did. While he doesn’t count as a native, I think you’ll agree he made significant contributions to Kerrville. The information that follows came out of the "Kerr County Album," an important resource for anyone interested in the story of this place.
During those early years in Texas, he was as a chain carrier for a survey crew out of the General Land Office. He was later promoted to General Surveyor, and his travels brought him to the Guadalupe River valley. In 1842, he acquired the ‘military’ grant to the heirs of Thomas Hand of 640 acres. That land later became important to the young community. (He acquired this land before Joshua Brown started his shingle camp. I suppose there was an active market in 'military' grants.)
There was no City of Kerrville then. Kerr County was part of the Bexar District, and Tivy served as deputy surveyor. He had also served with Jack Hays’ Rangers.
Then, 1849, the gold bug bit, and Tivy went out to California to seek his fortune. I don’t know how successful a miner he was, but history records he was a surveyor in California, ran a hotel and store, and served in the California Legislature. He also served in the Texas Legislature during another part of his life.
Coming back from California, he spent a year in New Mexico, then returned to Texas settling in Karnes County in 1858.
During the Civil War, Tivy served in the Confederate Army from 1862-64, being discharged with the rank of Captain.
And finally, after all of this, in 1872 he and two spinster sisters moved to Kerrville, to their 640-acre tract of land. I guess you could say he was one of the first retirees to move here.
Like most retirees here, he was active: seeing the need for a sound public school system, he gave the community 16 2/3 acres to be used to build free schools. Because the only entity that could accept the gift was an incorporated city, petitions were circulated and the City of Kerrville came into existence in 1889.
Not coincidentally, Captain Tivy was Kerrville’s first mayor.
He also gave the lot for St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, which still stands on the site. His Tivy Hotel can be found on Tivy Street, just north of Main Street. The building once faced Main, from what I’ve been told, but was moved long ago to face Tivy Street. In its early days it sported a cupola on its peak. Captain Tivy is rumored to have raced horses on the old “Tivy Flats,” an area where Broadway Street is today.
Captain Tivy is buried with his wife, one sister, and his wife’s cat on the top of Tivy Mountain, to the east of the downtown area. The hill has a dirt road to its summit and used to be open to the public. An excellent view of our valley home is afforded from up there, and you ought to take the time to visit the hill. Up there in the sunshine, with the wind blowing and the smell of cedar trees, you’ll find the four graves and a small stone obelisk. Looking below you can see what the Captain’s land has become.
Relatives of Captain Tivy live in the area today.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native who graduated from Tivy (rhymes with “ivy”) High School, many, many years ago now. More than twenty, but less than one hundred.  You can connect with Joe on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Joe Herring

The Case of the Blue-Tinted Photograph

The blue-tinted photograph is of a small town, and because of its blue color, the image looks like a view from a dream. It shows a dirt road, and on the dirt road is a man driving a cart being pulled by a single horse. In the back of the cart there are two trunks. He is heading away from the photographer, driving toward the little town. No other person is visible in the photo. A few homes dot the street.

The mysterious denim-colored photograph

I was tipped off about the photo by my friend Lanza Teague, who shares an intere

st in old-time Kerr County photographs. "Interest" might be too mild a word; Lanza and I are a little obsessed with old Kerr County photographs.

This particular image was something of a mystery. Was it of Kerrville? If so, from where was it taken? And when?

There are a few of us in town who collect photographs of our community. Some have amassed large collections (at great expense); others specialize. My own collection is small but special. I love old Kerr County photos, and most of them have been given to me by readers of this column.

I suppose because of my work at the print shop, I have a good memory for images, and can often look at a photo of Kerrville and make a good guess about its age and its subject, and from what part of the city it was taken. It's as if I've built a mental map of our community from the old photographs, a map of a place that no longer exists, and, for that matter, ceased to exist sixty years before I was born.

Dating a photograph is easier when there are automobiles in the image. (Horses are no help in this regard. Each model year of horses looks very similar to other model years.) Sometimes a landmark will be visible in an old photograph, like a building, for which you have a firm date of construction. Sometimes a landmark will be missing, and that helps, too, by letting you know the photograph was taken before a certain date.

Looking at the blue-tinted photo I vaguely remembered another scene from an old postcard, a postcard I had first seen back when the City of Kerrville celebrated its centennial -- back in 1989. Our print shop had printed thousands of copies of the postcard to give away at the centennial celebration; in fact, I had attempted to take a photo from exactly the same spot as the original photo, for a "then" and "now" effect. In the old postcard you could see the Charles Schreiner Company, Captain Schreiner's home, the Guthrie building, and the third Kerr County Courthouse.

The old postcard

The old postcard photograph had been taken from the cupola of the Tivy Hotel, facing northwest, following Main Street toward the courthouse square. Since the cupola was no longer on top of the hotel, I improvised, getting a pole and bolting my camera to its tip. I cannot remember clearly whether I had permission to climb the old hotel, but I certainly remember the climb. Standing up there I remember thinking I could easily fall and break my neck, but I really wanted to get that shot. So, once on top of the old hotel, I hoisted high my camera high above my head, using the pole, setting the timer to click the photo. This was before digital cameras; I shot in film and climbed down from the roof of the old hotel not knowing if any of my photographs had captured the scene. Fortunately one of the many shots was usable, and we printed thousands of copies to give away in 1989.

This new, blue-tinted mystery photograph seemed similar, at least in my memory, to that long-ago postcard. Digging through my files I pulled out the old postcard and was pleased to see the scenes almost perfectly matched.

Tivy Hotel

The differences were subtle: the trees were a lot smaller, and there were no telephone or electric poles in the mystery photo, and St Peter's Episcopal Church was missing something important: its bell tower. Almost all of the homes in the postcard show some alteration from the homes in the mystery photo; porches have been enclosed, trellises built. The mystery photo was also taken from a lower angle: perhaps from the second story balcony instead of from the cupola.

That missing bell tower, though, reminded me of a paragraph from a brief history of St Peter's Episcopal Church, found in the Kerr County Album: "The bell in the church tower bears these words, 'Placed in St. Peter's Church through the efforts of the Ladies' Guild, 1898.'"

That means this image is of Kerrville and was taken before 1898.

If I'm correct, this is the oldest photograph of Kerrville for which I can confirm a date. (The previous record holder was 1903, because the photographer had scrawled the date on the face of the print.) Other images in my collection may be older, but none upon which I can fix a firm date. Yet.

Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native whose hobbies include collecting Kerrville photographs and Kerrville ephemera. If you have something you'd like to contribute to his collection, bring it by the print shop on Water Street. You can connect with him at www.facebook.com/JoeHerring

A gift from a reader of my column

This past week I was given this coin by a reader of my column.  Thanks, Pat!

I've looked through my files, and the only reference 
I've found to "H. Noll" is as an officer of the 
First State Bank of Kerrville.  If you know anything 
about this coin, please let me know.

A Woman of Faith

A Woman of Faith

For the past several months I've been telling the history of this community, dividing the story into different periods. I started with the "Prehistoric Era," followed with the "Pioneer Era," and for the past few weeks, I've been writing about a period I've called the "Golden Era," which began in about 1869 and continued through 1927.
I chose to call this the "Golden Era" because so many of the institutions we value today had their start during that period. I'm curious why. What conditions were prevalent then to allow such a fertile period for our community? Why did so many of our lasting organizations start during that time? Are any of those conditions present today?
One organization that started in Kerrville during that time began as a one-room store on Main Street, run by a woman, which in those days was quite unusual. However, she was an amazing woman who was well ahead of her time. And because of an effort underway to help with one of the family's local projects, our library, I thought this story might be timely.

Florence Thornton Butt

Florence Thornton was born in Buena Vista, Mississippi, on September 19, 1864, during the Civil War. Her family was deeply religious, and two of her brothers were pastors; Florence often assisted them as they held revivals.
She later attended Clinton College, where she was "not only the only girl in her class, but the honor graduate."
After college, she taught school for several years and also taught Sunday School at her church.
At 24 she married Charles C. Butt, a pharmacist, and they made their home in Mississippi and Tennessee. Together they had three sons, Charles, Eugene and Howard; there were also two stepsons in the family, Kearney and Stanley Butt.
Around the turn of the last century, Charles, Sr. became ill with tuberculosis. At that time little was known about the disease, though it was widely believed to be genetic, since it 'ran in families.' Only much later would science discover it was contagious. Of the various cures offered at the time, the most popular was to move the patient to a warm, dry climate. This often seemed to help, and many spots around the country became known for their care of tuberculosis patients; Kerrville became especially famous in the southern United States for its climate and special hospitals and facilities for victims of this disease.
You might be surprised to learn how many local families first came to Kerrville because someone in their family was dying of tuberculosis. So many of these families stayed on after their ill family member passed away, putting down deep roots in the hill country.
The disease brought the Butt family here; Charles Sr. and his son Charles Jr. (who served on the Kerrville City Council, and ran the grocery store for a while) would both eventually die of the disease, and both are buried here, in Glen Rest cemetery.
Since her husband was unable to work, and since she had a house full of sons, Florence Butt decided to sell some of the A&P grocery products shipped to her by a relative. She went door to door offering these products, and, according to her son Eugene, had a door slammed in her face by a Kerrville woman, who told her "I don't buy from peddlers."
"My mother was a very refined woman, and this hurt her deeply," Eugene recalled.
I have a photo from the period showing a wagon yard in snow, and on a post in the yard is a placard reading “Second Hand Furniture for Sale CHEAP, Kearney Butt.” Times were tough for the family and they were working very hard to survive here.
According to family tradition, Florence Butt started her grocery store on November 26, 1905, in a small rented two-story frame building at what was then number 609 Main Street. The little building stood about where the Hill County Cafe stands today. Mrs. Butt opened her grocery store in the small room that served as the first floor; the family lived over the store. The windows were open upstairs summer and winter to provide ventilation and the ‘dry air’ needed for Charles Sr.
The store (with rooms above) was tiny, about 20 feet wide by 38 feet, or 760 square feet, which she rented for $9 per month; she stocked the store with what was left of her savings, $60.
According to one of her grandsons, she made a discovery when sweeping out the room downstairs for the first time: she found a Bible left behind by a previous tenant. She immediately prayed for her little company, and dedicated it then and there to her Lord.
Her neighbors on that block included a tailor on the corner of Main and then-Mountain streets; behind her, about where Fidelity Abstract Company is today, there was the coal-powered Kerrville Ice Factory. The maps I own show rest of the block contained small residences and several buildings marked ‘dilapidated.’
Despite many hardships, her store took hold somehow, and survived, providing for the young family. Her young sons were enlisted in the effort: the first deliveries were made in what must have been Howard’s baby buggy, later in a small hand wagon.
Florence Butt ran the store alone for many years; her son Charles was active in the business as early as 1917, and her son Howard, upon return from his military service in World War I, also worked in the business, eventually becoming its moving force. She retired from active involvement in the company around 1934, though she would often go to the store in the afternoons, visiting old friends and greeting customers.
The store was originally on Main Street, but moved to Earl Garrett Street to the rock building that had been the community’s post office, and now houses Sheftall’s Jewelers. After Earl Garrett street, the grocery moved to a larger building on Water Street, now gone, but about where One Schreiner Center is today. My first memory of the store was at its fourth location when it was on the corner of Water and Quinlan, facing Quinlan; it was enlarged in the 1970’s to face Main in the building that now houses Hasting’s music and book store.
Its fifth and present location is in the 300 block Main Street, only six blocks northwest and 100 years away from that original store.
The company that has grown so successful was founded by a woman of intelligence and faith, whose need to provide for her family was so strong she overcame countless obstacles, from the humiliation of slammed doors to the prevailing convention that said women couldn’t run businesses. She was ahead of her time in many, many ways and she was very determined.

Florence Butt's Store

She was also very generous, giving back to the community that had supported her and her family. She was active not only in her church, but also in the Eastern Star. She organized a Baptist mission at Oak Park here in Kerrville, and paid the pastor’s salary for many years. I have heard many, many stories of her kindness to those in need in our community.
Florence Thornton Butt lived for 89 years. She passed away at her home on Earl Garrett Street, a few blocks from her first store. Her life was not easy in Kerrville: she buried her husband and her eldest son here, and now she rests beside them at Glen Rest cemetery near Schreiner University.
Some might consider her company, given its tremendous success, to be her greatest legacy, though, in my opinion, the enduring gift she gave her family and our community was the strength of her faith as demonstrated by her caring service to those in need. Her story is compelling to me because after she had one door slammed in her face she knocked on another door, and it was opened to her.
Until next week, all the best.

Joe Herring Jr. is a Kerrville native whose son works for H-E-B in Austin.   You can connect with Joe Herring Jr at www.facebook.com/JoeHerring