Images From The Meadowlark, May 4, 1951

The ads that appeared in this issue of the Meadowbrook Junior High School student newspaper have provided a pretty fair picture of what the East Side of Ft. Worth was like 57 years ago. Now let’s go thru the paper page by page to see some of the things that were important to them way back when.

First up is a photo of the graduating class of 1951. Notice that they were still taking class photos outdoors with part of the building as a backdrop.

For those of you with sharp enough eyes, just above is the original caption that listed all of the graduates appearing in the photograph. Not able to read it? For your convenience, I've retyped the entire caption is easier to read font size. The names of the students are:

Class of '51: First row, left to right: Don Short, Bill Brock, Richard Hollingsworth, Jimmy Moore, Bob Wear, Gene Dimock, Gary Grier, Mike Mallicote, Leon Brown, Ray Fisher, Dedric Roberts, Kenneth Royar. Second row: Terry Mack, Mary White, Aletta McMean, Kay Spurlock, Jackie Tackett, Tylithat Schaber, Didi Quirino, Rita Martelli, Mary Jo Einstein, Betty Tripp, Jerri Jean Power, Tommye Hensley, Gale Russey, Carmen Baltisar, Irene Twiss. Third row: Barbara Fitzgerald, Sandra Kelly, Mae Belle Rainey, Dessie Dennie, Diane Brewer, Cynthia Seacrest, Barbara Wellman, Cathryne Barnett, Marian Bickle. Fourth row: Sandie Gordon, Mary Lou Oliver, Marilyn Swayze, Jackie Hooe, Gene Fricke, Charlene McBrayer, Nancy Beck, Eleanor Armstrong, Louise Smith, Shirley Gorham. Fifth row: Annelle Northcut, Monell Holden, Nancy Fawver, Reba Cook, Joyce McKinney, Jackie Simpson, Montie Mauldin, Ella Jane Faris, Sarah Flynn, Xanthia Macy. Sixth row: John Irby, John May, Bill Maloney, David Rowland, John Bateman, Ronald Lockhart, Alma Natherton, Carolyn Rice, Phonita McGill, Jean Hiett, Madelon Mathieu, Dorothy Long. Seventh row: Jimmy Boggs, James Dial, Jack Hester, Lanny Ham, Cecil Davis, Charles Huffaker, John Black, Don Raspberry, Bill Ransom, Albert Craig, Jim Mosely, Paul Wyatt, Don Overton, Garth Owens, Bill Oglesby. Eighth row: Danny Rouse, Ted Stuart, Fred Hughes, Henry Daniel Hutmacher, Bob Franks.

The Flood, Keeping Your Feet Dry, Alligators & Milk Cans.

When 1949 arrived, rain came with it...lots of rain. All that rain led, in turn, to the infamous '49 flood. If you've been watching the films of all the flooding that occurred at the end of July 2004, especially the area south and southeast of Dallas, visualize that scene in Ft. Worth proper. You have to remember that there were no levees containing the Trinity River on the west side of town, the water treatment plant sat down on the Trinity flood plain (just like Don Carter's bowling alley and the subsequent Hope Community Church on the East Side) and there was little if any protection for any of the other low-lying areas. Result? When it started raining…and raining…and raining (NOAH! WHERE'S THAT ARK WHEN WE NEED IT?), the water followed the path of least resistance.

Once the water rose high enough to overflow it's banks, what came next was predictable. What wasn't predictable was just how bad it would get. The near west side of town, essentially meaning from the bluffs on the east side of the Trinity onward, went underwater. Montgomery Ward was a going concern at that time and their building was flooded all the way up to the second floor. Of course, that much water also contaminated the water treatment plant, meaning you had to boil all of your water (bottled water in every convenience and grocery store wasn't an option then) unless you had access to a deep well that hadn't been flooded. And one more thing. Typhoid shots.

How did the East Side fare? For the most part, pretty well. Keep in mind that the East Side is, in general, one of the highest parts of Tarrant County. In fact, the hill that National Farm Life (On the north side of I-30 and about a mile or so east of Oakland.) sits on has actually been identified as the highest point in the entire county. Put another way, if the East Side ever floods to the point of being submerged, you'll be using a boat to travel over Ft. Worth.

Despite that advantage, there were still problems. Sycamore Creek, which runs under E. Lancaster just west of Marshal Grain, was also out of it's banks and over the highway. My father was working for Swift's at the cold storage plant (the T&P warehouse just west of the post office on E. Lancaster) and rode the bus home every day during the flood. According to his stories, the water was so deep over the road that all passengers had to stand up in their seats in order to keep their feet dry as the bus made it's way slowly thru the water. Strange, isn't it, that buses in the 1940s could successfully navigate water so deep that the water would be up inside the bus so far that it was nearly to the top of the seat cushions, yet today you're warned not to drive into water that barely reaches your car's bumper?

And, of course, floods bring out all kinds of strange critters living in close proximity to humans that you normally never see. Cottonmouth snakes for one, though those were pretty well expected. What wasn't expected was a little beastie that followed my father down Morris Street when he was walking home from the bus stop. An alligator about three or four feet long that apparently had crawled out of the Trinity. As he told it, the little fella was just simply following him down the street. They ignored each other and the 'gator finally ambled on somewhere else. My father came on home and didn't tell anyone about it…until a photo showed up in the paper showing a man who had caught this alligator. My mother couldn't believe he missed an opportunity to get his picture in the paper!

Finally, does anyone remember those big aluminum milk cans with handles on the side to make it easier to lift? And the big, screw-off lids? The things probably held twenty or twenty-five gallons of milk. It so happened that Swift's had a deep artesian water well inside the cold storage building (presubably it's still there) that was not contiminated by the flood waters and my father would bring artesian water home in those milk cans. As a result, my parents, grandmother and I had clean, fresh water that didn't have to be boiled before drinking.

Tarantulas & a dead pilot.

According to my mother, along with photos I have to support the fact, we first lived on Ash Crescent, literally at the top of the hill about a block and a half south of an elementary school on Vickery Blvd and a block east of Riverside Drive. Despite my mother's intentions that we were going to stay there so I could attend that school when I got old enough, it didn't work out that way.

Though we didn't remain on Ash Cresent that long , there were a couple of interesting events told by my mother that I'll relate for you. While living there (probably during 1946), a light plane crashed into a gulley that was maybe a block away, I believe, killing the pilot. Essentially, the location was a couple of hundred feet from the southeast corner of Riverside and Vickery. Remember, there was no TV news or instant media coverage in that time period, so it made for a little bit of excitement for those living in the immediate vicinity.

As for the other event, we've all gotten used today to the idea of hardly ever seeing any critters in or under our houses. Today people get upset if they see a roach in the house or a harmless spider in the garden. It wasn't always that way and a case in point was the Ash Crescent house.

My mother was a consummate animal lover, willing to do just about anything to help an injured, starving or trapped animal. Cats, especially. Anyway, she kept hearing kittens crying under the house (pier and beam foundation). No way she could ignore them and they wouldn't come to her when she called. What'd she do? You guessed it…crawled under the house to find the kittens and bring them out. Consider that there was precious little light under the house, so she couldn't see what else was under there with her. What there was would qualify for a modern episode of Fear Factor.

After she had extricated herself and the kittens from beneath the house, a neighbor came over to her to see if she was alright. When she assured the neighbor that she was, the neighbor asked her is she knew how much danger she had been in. "What danger?" my mother asked.

"Tarantulas." the neighbor replied. It so happened that tarantula spiders (You know what I'm talking about. Big. Black. Hairy. Experts also say they're non-poisonous and totally harmless. Yeah, sure. If you believe that, I've got some waterfront property in Arizona I'd like to sell you.) were quite common all over Ft. Worth at that time, but you'd usually see one or two at a time. They could even be spotted crossing streets. Turned out that the little buggers were apparently breeding under many of the houses on Ash Cresent…including ours. Despite the fact that my mother was deathly afraid of tarantulas, she had crawled thru dozens if not hundreds of them to rescue those kittens. Why none of them crawled on her while she was under the house no one ever figured out. Good thing, though. If one of'em had crawled up her leg or she could've turned on a light, she would've created a new entrance into the house by standing straight up thru the floor!

By early 1947, we had bid goodbye to the tarantulas and bought a house at 4928 Morris Street. This was on the East Side, one block south of Meadowbrook Drive and halfway between Queen Street and Tierney Road. My father was working for Swift at the Cold Storage Building on East Lancaster (I'll explain that one later), I would soon have major chest surgery, the East Side was a very desirable place to live and the 1949 flood was still two years down the road.

Except for 8 1/2 years in El Paso, I've been on the East Side ever since. This part of Ft. Worth has ranged all the way from a highly desirable location to a virtual combat zone and everything in between. Where it's going now is still to be determined, but if you don't know where it's been, you won't be able to figure out where you want it to go.

If you've managed to find this installment vaguely interesting, stick around. You may learn some things about the East Side, as well as the rest of Ft. Worth, that you didn't know. And if y'all happen to have information that'll fill in some of the gaps in my memory, don't hesitate to let me know.