Above, A&M’s Old Main burns, The Battalion
Begin with Chapter One ~ Return to Chapter Twenty-Nine
Former Governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell, July 1912
“‘Tom Campbell’s Man Friday,’” sputters Judge Ramsey. “How dare that good-for-nothing Governor tag that label on me? He expresses wonderment that I claim to be a clean and Christian gentlemen. Then that crook brazenly declares that he has always lived by the golden rule.”
“The golden rule,” snaps Thomas. “Governor Colquitt is ruled by gold. Nothing else but gold flowing directly from brewers’ kegs into his pockets. Nothing will work right in this country until monopolies and trusts take their infernal hands out of the election process. That’s what this election is about. That and education, which the Governor refuses to fund. His veto of the appropriation for the State University leaves students meeting for class in wooden shacks that would require very little huffing and puffing to blow down. First norther should do it.”
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Thirty”
Above, 1912 Suffragette Parade in New York City, National Archives
Begin with Chapter One ~ Return to Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hedda Burgemeister, July 1912
Hedda hops off the street car. Elated.
Emmy was right. She loves San Antonio. The temperature might be 98 degrees, even this late in the day, but the heat rising off the streets in New York City is more oppressive. And the people there always press in closer and closer, no matter how hot.
She longs to break into a joyous skip as she turns onto Hunstock Street. Her street.
Herr Cordt tips his hat to her as he hurries the opposite way. Her street. Her neighbor. Her neighbor who has lived here for 20 years, yet still speaks only German.
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Twenty-Nine”
Begin with Chapter One ~ Return to Chapter Twenty-Five
Emma Bentzen Koehler, April 1912
“I do so love the spring season in San Antonio,” says Sophie Wahrmund. “This dedication of the Hermann Sons Home is as elegant as any of the parties we’ve enjoyed throughout Fiesta.”
Otto tucks his thumbs under his lapels. “This is particularly welcome after the Chamber of Commerce’s silly shenanigans at the Saint Anthony Hotel. They handed everyone horns and cowbells and made us parade down the street like fools singing…”
The Colonel bounces as though astride a horse as he launches into song. “She hopped up on a pony and ran away with Tony. If you see her just let me know…”
Otto joins in harmonizing the last line of the popular ditty, “And I’ll meet you in San An-to-ni, San An-to-ni-o.”
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Twenty-Six”