Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Tulsa (Page 77 of 139)

March of the Orange Barrels

As Granny Mamie would say: Ya canna keep Troubles from comin’ round, but ya needn’t offer ‘em a chair.

That pretty well sums up my feelings as the Rose District construction approaches the front door of the bookshop. As you can see in the image, the orange barrel invasion has swallowed all but the doorstep of my neighbor Jason’s – Main Street Tavern. The block just to the north is next.

That’s this place.

Probably next week, I’m thinking. A little bit of trouble, convenience wise, and comin’ round. But I’ve already brought the sidewalk bench indoors. Needn’t offer a chair. Speed things along.

Giving credit where due, the contractors have gone out of their way to accommodate the merchants as the construction progresses. When the last segment of sidewalk was all that was left down the street, workers kept at it all night so the chips & salsa, margaritas, and enchiladas could be served as usual when Fiesta Mambo opened the following day.

The most-asked question lately? Is the construction bothering your business? Well… I don’t think barricades, front-end loaders, jackhammers, and road-closed-signs are GOOD for business. There are some once-regular customers who had just found the shop at its new location whom I haven’t seen for a time.

The other side of that is – with a stop sign at every intersection – some folks are slowing down (and stopping hopefully) long enough to look around and notice the businesses in the area. The Main Street Expressway, where speeds regularly hit 45 to 55 mph (not an exaggeration), was not conducive to business. Too risky to take your eyes off the road or cell phone when a pesky pedestrian might step out to cross the street.

That’s my primary hope: that – once the construction troubles pick up and move along – the Rose District will be a little friendlier (traffic-wise) to shoppers and side-walkers. It would be great to have people cruise the business district like we used to do, styling and profiling, circling the loop between the Sonic and the A&W. (Different town, different era.)

There will be plenty of new things to see once the street-scaping project winds up. A couple of new buildings. Several new restaurants. There are already new shops settling in with the long-term residents. Half of one block is complete with newly-painted parking space lines. It’s going to be great, I just know it. The sooner they move in front of the bookstore, the quicker it will be finished. No sense fussing about it.

As Granny Mamie would say: You can’t drown your sorrows. They know how to swim.

Make some waves. Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main, Broken Arrow OK!

Alice Walton and the Preacher.

When the Lord called Sherman Merrill, it was usually Long Distance. And the first call came early. As a newly-married 22-year-old Sherman was already in His service, leading a congregation at Whitehall, New York, the same town where a fleet of vessels was built to confront the British during the Revolution.

As a result of that latter fact, Whitehall is said to be the birthplace of the US Navy. It certainly was the starting point of a long career for Sherman Merrill, son of Elam, son of Benjamin, son of the immigrant Nathaniel Merrill, who had come to America during colonial times. It was a small town, Whitehall, and still is – located across the state line from Vermont, where the twins Willie and Alice would later be born.

The son of a long line of farmers, Sherman took up the cloth and found his first flock and a home with his young wife Cordelia around 1850. Things were looking up.

But the Lord kept calling.

Baby Adalaide was just two when a church in Massachusetts needed a pastor, and it was a short two years later when an invitation came from a congregation in Vermont. By the time his mission brought him back to New York state and the birth of baby John, Sherman headed a family of seven. In 1860, the family resettled in Greenwich, New York, already an important – if secret – stop on the Underground Railroad that carried slaves to freedom from the American South.

Then came the war.

Pastor Merrill was older than some of his comrades-in-arms, but he again offered his services when volunteers were sought for a troop of up-staters. The 177th New York Infantry marched down from New York to New Orleans, Louisiana to join the 3rd Brigade serving under General Sherman.

They took part in skirmishes at McGill’s ferry and Pontchtoula. 23 of Chaplain Merrill’s fellow volunteers lost their lives during the siege at Port Hudson. 149 others died of disease. Still, he never lost his faith.

When the war ended, Merrill rejoined his family and relocated them to Wisconsin, a move that was little more than a layover on their way to Gallatin, Tennessee. The Major was invited by a congregation in that city to head their Methodist Episcopal church. Cordelia Merrill, who spent her life raising children and keeping house for Pastor Merrill, left the family behind when she was buried in the Gallatin Cemetery.

Remarriage was common, particularly when there were young children in the home. And that brings us to the point of this little story.

Sherman Merrill married John Walton’s daughter, Susan, a girl half his age. Together they had three daughters – one of whom they named Alice – who grew into an artist who loved to read. Alice signed her name in a book that landed in the bookshop yesterday. You may recall there is an Alice Walton who is the tenth richest American. The daughter of Sam the Walmart man. I wondered if there was a connection.

There wasn’t.

Which presented the question: How did a copy of The Methods of Lady Walderhurst by Frances Hodgson Burnett (she also wrote The Secret Garden, from which a movie was made) – how did the book get to Broken Arrow from Gallatin, Tennessee?

As it turns out, it was by way of another New York native. Dr Les A. O’Brien found Alice in Tennessee, married her, and moved to the Indian Territory to open his practice. Tulsa was a booming community and the draw was strong enough that the in-laws packed up and moved west to join Dr and Mrs O’Brien. Later, Dr. O’Brien wound up moving his offices up the road to Skiatook, but the Waltons remained in Tulsa.

South of town, near Muskogee, a family named Clinton married into the Creek Nation and did well enough on their ranch that they opted to build a big place on the hill in Tulsa. Dr Fred Clinton and family made their home near 13th and Boulder while brother Lee constructed a mansion a half-mile to the west. His house sits there still, completed in 1913 at 1322 South Guthrie and now sitting on the National Register of Historic Properties.

Alice Walton Merrill’s sister Susan lived there. She had married Mr. Clinton, a banker of some note, and already a driving force in the growing city.

Alice and her sister Susan were included in the 1914 Who’s Who in America, which made note of their artistic and philanthropic works and identified them as belonging to the Methodist Episcopalian church.

Which did their daddy Pastor Sherman proud.

The book?

It’s a First Edition copy from 1901. A little threadbare – even for a 100+ year-old. Not so valuable as a result.

But it tells a tale all its own.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street

News Flash! (No. Not that kind of flash.)

Pssssst! Did ya hear the news?

Oooh! Oooh!

Sometimes the big news is just gossip. Hollywood stars and their antics. Scandals. There have always been those pesky scandals. Then – there was a time when gossip WAS the news.

Flash from the October 20, 1889 Bryan (TX) Eagle, which arrived in the mail this morning as part of a research project I’m working on:

Walter Whipprecht went to Austin yesterday.

Woo.

And from the same top-of-the-page column under the THURSDAY headline:

Major W. R. Cavitt went to Dallas yesterday. Squire J. M. Zimmerman of Kurten was in the city yesterday. W. B Hancock from Boston registered at the Exchange hotel yesterday.

Can you imagine the size of the Tulsa World if these items were still reported? But – it was news back then, why isn’t it news today?

Some things never change though. Under the CITY COUNCIL headline was this note:

A committee from the tire department appeared before the council and a somewhat lengthy discussion of differences was held, resulting in a postponement of action until the next council meeting.

That could have been written last night for this morning’s paper.

Writing styles change with the times. Some words from the 19th century just don’t make it into news copy any longer. For example, this bulletin from the Indian Territory:

THREE SHOT AT INDIAN DANCE

Ardmore, I.T. Oct 18 – During an Indian dance near Mill Creek, 30 miles from here, promiscuous shooting was indulged in by unknown persons.

Promiscuous shooting, you’ll note. Today, those unknown persons would be called “shooters.” Earlier, the term gunman was in favor. That one “went missing,” but back in the day it would have simply “disappeared.”

The accompanying picture shows the turn-of-the-century newspaper delivery system. The circulation department, if you will. These fine lads were set to send out the day’s edition of the Winfield, Kansas Daily Free Press. The clothes may have changed (and what I wouldn’t give for a couple of those stylish hats!) but the bicycles could pass for today’s rugged mountain bikes.

The photo is from 1914, just a few years beyond the great heyday of the bicycle – a sporting craze that began in the late 1880s and early 1890s. Before that, the newspaper delivery might have been on foot or horseback. Automobiles were still fairly uncommon, particularly on the roads in smaller towns like Winfield. (You’ll notice the lack of paving and the muddy tires on a couple of the bicycles.)

Oooh! Oooh!

This just in: John Henry was here from Payne Prairie yesterday!

Film at eleven. (Wait a minute. Film is out. Never mind.)

We’ve got books about the Old West and newspapers: Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St, Broken Arrow OK!

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