Kosse, Texas
1871-2021
150 Years of History
Kosse celebrated its 150th Birthday in 2021. Celebrations of Kosse's history and civic and business projects are planned, highlighted by a new City Hall and the restoration of one of the most recognized and historic downtown buildings.
Led by local archaeologist Laura Lehmons, we are researching and publishing photos, news articles and snippets of Kosse's colorful past. If you have photos or stories to share, please contact us at [email protected].
Led by local archaeologist Laura Lehmons, we are researching and publishing photos, news articles and snippets of Kosse's colorful past. If you have photos or stories to share, please contact us at [email protected].
Whispers of Kosse’s Past:
By: Laura Lehmons, Kosse Heritage Society
Dr. Taz Ezell and brother Dr. Bunyon Ezell. On December 22, 1895 a fire broke out in their offices that destroyed many of the business buildings in Kosse.
A Word of Christmas Caution
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - November 29, 2020
The holidays are here again, albeit a little truncated. Along with the season of giving, family, friends, and general good cheer comes danger. It is during this time of the year that 30% of house fires occur. It also attributes 38% of fire related injuries to current statistics.
Many of these accidents occur due to improper electrical wiring, while others are due to dry Christmas trees, overloaded outlets, and free-standing heating appliances. This is not a recent problem, although technological advances have certainly reduced the number of occurrences.
Historically, people decorated with open flame candles in windows and on trees. Clothing and many home furnishings were made from highly flammable materials. Some homes in lower economical areas were papered with newsprint. Kerosene and coal were common in many homes, while more affluent homes and businesses used natural gas for lighting as well as heat. Theaters used gaslights with open flames as footlights at the front of stages.
American history is wrought with such tragedies. Many of these massive fires, which cost thousands of people their lives, also happened during the Christmas season. One of the deadliest was the Iroquois Theater fire that occurred in Chicago on Dec. 30, 1903. The cause of the fire was a spark from an open flame light that caught the curtains. 602 people lost their lives in that day.
Kosse was not immune. Eight years before the Iroquois fire, Kosse nearly burned to the ground on the morning of December 22, 1895. According to news reports, a fire broke out in the office of doctors Bunyon and A.T. Ezell around 3am. The fire quickly spread to eight other brick buildings on main street, all of them a total loss.
A telegram was sent to Calvert asking for assistance. The H&TC railroad sent a special train from Hearne to Calvert. When it arrived, the Calvert fire-fighting equipment and about 50 firemen were loaded. The train raced north to Kosse’s assistance.
The buildings consumed contained not only the Ezell’s office, but several dry good stores, mercantiles, saloons, a second doctor’s office, the printing office of the Kosse Cyclone, and the Masonic Lodge. Estimates of the financial loss at the time was $72,000. In today’s currency that would have been over $2.2 million. Many of the proprietors had no insurance.
This was certainly not the only devastating fire in Kosse history, but it was certainly the most destructive. Luckily, no loss of life or injury was reported. The cause of the fire was never reported and may not have been known.
This year, please be aware of such tragedies. Take precautions with decorations and heating appliances. Do not overload outlets or power strips. Make sure all smoke detectors and carbon monoxide detectors are in working order and have new batteries. Check on elderly neighbors and make sure they are safe as well.
Until next time…Stay safe, well, and warm!!
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - November 29, 2020
The holidays are here again, albeit a little truncated. Along with the season of giving, family, friends, and general good cheer comes danger. It is during this time of the year that 30% of house fires occur. It also attributes 38% of fire related injuries to current statistics.
Many of these accidents occur due to improper electrical wiring, while others are due to dry Christmas trees, overloaded outlets, and free-standing heating appliances. This is not a recent problem, although technological advances have certainly reduced the number of occurrences.
Historically, people decorated with open flame candles in windows and on trees. Clothing and many home furnishings were made from highly flammable materials. Some homes in lower economical areas were papered with newsprint. Kerosene and coal were common in many homes, while more affluent homes and businesses used natural gas for lighting as well as heat. Theaters used gaslights with open flames as footlights at the front of stages.
American history is wrought with such tragedies. Many of these massive fires, which cost thousands of people their lives, also happened during the Christmas season. One of the deadliest was the Iroquois Theater fire that occurred in Chicago on Dec. 30, 1903. The cause of the fire was a spark from an open flame light that caught the curtains. 602 people lost their lives in that day.
Kosse was not immune. Eight years before the Iroquois fire, Kosse nearly burned to the ground on the morning of December 22, 1895. According to news reports, a fire broke out in the office of doctors Bunyon and A.T. Ezell around 3am. The fire quickly spread to eight other brick buildings on main street, all of them a total loss.
A telegram was sent to Calvert asking for assistance. The H&TC railroad sent a special train from Hearne to Calvert. When it arrived, the Calvert fire-fighting equipment and about 50 firemen were loaded. The train raced north to Kosse’s assistance.
The buildings consumed contained not only the Ezell’s office, but several dry good stores, mercantiles, saloons, a second doctor’s office, the printing office of the Kosse Cyclone, and the Masonic Lodge. Estimates of the financial loss at the time was $72,000. In today’s currency that would have been over $2.2 million. Many of the proprietors had no insurance.
This was certainly not the only devastating fire in Kosse history, but it was certainly the most destructive. Luckily, no loss of life or injury was reported. The cause of the fire was never reported and may not have been known.
This year, please be aware of such tragedies. Take precautions with decorations and heating appliances. Do not overload outlets or power strips. Make sure all smoke detectors and carbon monoxide detectors are in working order and have new batteries. Check on elderly neighbors and make sure they are safe as well.
Until next time…Stay safe, well, and warm!!
Legends and Lore
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - October 31, 2020
Legends and lore abound at this time of year. The days are shorter, the weather colder, and Halloween is a week away. In our time, Halloween is a fun time of year where the normal becomes paranormal, ghosts lurk around every corner, and children get to dress up and go house to house hoping for a sack full of sticky treats at the end of the night. Abandoned and run-down houses become “haunted”. Urban legends like “The Hook” and “The White Lady” begin to make the rounds again.
Centuries ago, it was not so. All Hallows Eve, or Samhain, was a night when the veils between worlds were thinner than they would be for the entire year. The dead could return to visit their loved ones or seek revenge for their deaths. Demons walked the world to steal souls and wreak havoc. These beliefs were real to the people who lived in those times, and protections against visits from these creatures on this night were strictly observed.
Rowan branches above the door provided protection from witches, jack-o-lanterns scared away ghosts, and masks confused demons so that they would seek victims elsewhere. Bells were placed over graves so that should a vampire arise, there would be a warning.
Superstitions are a world-wide phenomenon. Some have their basis in mistaken medical diagnoses; vampires and zombies were people who were mistakenly buried alive as the result of unknown diseases, so lines attached to bells above ground could be rung by someone waking up in a coffin to alert loved ones holding vigil at the grave. Others have their basis in pagan belief systems that were demonized over time.
Whatever belief systems the myths originated in, traditions remain to celebrate or commemorate them today. Halloween as we know it is not the only tradition followed, it is simply the one we grew up participating in.
This year is a little more special than most. This year, Halloween will be graced with a rare Blue Harvest Moon. This has also been called a Hunter’s Moon or a Comanche Moon, and has legends of its own. This full moon will be bright, lighting up the night like a celestial spotlight. In the past, farmers have used the light from this moon to continue to work into the night, getting in the harvest before frost could damage it. Hunters could use the night to continue to track vast herds of buffalo, or other game, giving them a distinct advantage over animals whose nocturnal vision was not as acute.
In the early days of Texas settlement, emigrants feared the full moon. These were the nights when the Comanche would conduct raids on rival tribes or outlying settlements. The purposes of these raids were for supplies, horses, and captives. There are numerous reports of the Comanche Trail, over which the raiders would travel in West Texas and Mexico. The moon provided enough light that the raider’s horses could be sure-footed enough to avoid accidents on mountain and canyon trails.
In the spirit of the season, I have been asked to share a spooky story from Kosse’s past. For the faint of heart, stop reading here. For the brave…continue at your own risk and don’t blame me for the nightmares!
McLancy’s Curse
There is a dead-end gravel road on the outskirts of Kosse, TX. It meanders through dark woods and fields, the domain of copperheads, wild hogs, and the occasional deer. No one lives there now…but once there was a man named McLancy, who had a cotton plantation. Nothing remains of the buildings, only a few stately oaks mark the spot where the house once stood.
Devlin McLancy came to the area in the years before the Civil War. An Irish immigrant, he arrived in New York penniless, working his way south and took a position as an overseer on a plantation in Tennessee. He fell in love with a daughter of the house and married her. Soon after the wedding, his new bride discovered the pure evil of the man that she had married.
You see, Devlin McLancy was not a good man. He was, in truth, controlling and abusive, completely obsessed with money and status, and not above committing murder to get what he wanted.
When his new father in law refused to turn over the reins of the plantation in Tennessee, Devlin arranged for an “accident”. Somehow a snake had found its way into the old man’s bed. He died horribly, leaving all his worldly goods to his only living child, the new Mrs. McLancy. When rumors began to circulate about the swiftness of the old man’s death so soon after the wedding, McLancy sold off the plantation and most of the slaves, taking his wife and the money to Texas.
The McLancys arrived in the area that would become Kosse around 1850. They built the plantation in a broad meadow, bordered by Bull Creek. They began raising cotton and a family. Neighbors in the area avoided the McLancy place, as he was known to shoot first and ask questions later. They whispered among themselves when he would bring the family into town for church services or to visit the shops. Mrs. McLancy did her best, but she wasn’t always able to cover the bruises.
Over the years, Devlin McLancy accumulated money, land, and slaves. One of these slaves was a woman who became a close confidant and constant companion of Mrs. McLancy. By 1861, the McLancys had 5 daughters. Their only son had died in infancy from yellow fever. The Civil War had barely begun, and many of the men in the area had enlisted. The McLancy women hoped that Devlin would soon follow. This was not to happen. He bought himself an exemption from service and remained on the plantation where his cruelty only grew.
McLancy would beat and berate his wife for any perceived insult. He knew to temper his “punishments” in order to protect his dubious standing in the community. After all, his neighbors would only tolerate so much when it came to his wife. The slaves were not so lucky.
Slaves often disappeared, never to be seen again. He told his wife that they had run away. Others were subjected to torture and gruesome punishments, which his wife and children were forced to watch.
By 1865, when the war ended, McLancy’s fortunes had changed. The cotton market had hit rock bottom, and the Emancipation Proclamation had freed his workforce. He had been present when it had been read from the porch of Logan Stroud’s plantation house near Mexia.
He had no intention of freeing his slaves, but word had made its way to the McLancy plantation through neighbors in Kosse. By the time he returned home his slaves were all gone, apart from his wife’s companion, a woman named Mahala.
It was evening when he returned. The full moon shone over the empty fields and created shadows everywhere. When McLancy discovered the exodus, his rage knew no bounds. He began to beat his wife as he never had before. The girls and Mahala tried to stop him, but this only turned his rage on them. Mrs. McLancy screamed at the girls to run away and never look back.
Mahala reached the fire poker and struck him a blow to the head. She grabbed Mrs. McLancy and ran for the door, the girls scrambling behind her. Unfortunately, the head injury had not incapacitated the old man, only slowed him down. He grabbed his rifle and jumped on his still saddled horse. Then he ran them down…one by one.
The light from the full moon made them easy to see as they ran through the fields, trying to reach the dark woods. As he reached each one, he tied them to his horse, making them run after him as he went after the next. Once he had captured them all, he dragged them back to the huge oak at the front of the house.
They huddled in fear, not knowing what was about to happen. Devlin McLancy went to the barn and returned with a bundle of rope. The women began to scream and beg as he fashioned 6 nooses and tied them to the large limb of the oak tree. He told them that since they had betrayed him and could not be trusted to be loyal only to him, they would have to die a traitor’s death.
He began with the youngest daughter. Within a short time, his family was dead…at his hands. Mahala looked at her former master with horror, finally understanding what he was. As he leveled the rifle at her chest, she began to speak.
“Devlin McLancy. You are the devil’s own son. You will never know peace in this world or any other. For the things you have done, your soul will be tied to this land forever, doomed to return every full moon.”
McLancy laughed and pulled the trigger. Then he turned the gun on himself.
On the night of a full moon, if you are brave enough to travel down that road, beware. If you reach the site of the McLancy place while the full moon rides high in the sky, you will see the antebellum mansion that stands in the meadow. If you dare to step foot into the fields surrounding it, Old Man McLancy will hunt you. If you do not escape before the moon sets, you will be trapped there for all time, never to return.
The preceding story may or may not be a work of pure fiction. I’ll leave it up to you to decide. In the meantime, Happy Halloween!!
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - October 31, 2020
Legends and lore abound at this time of year. The days are shorter, the weather colder, and Halloween is a week away. In our time, Halloween is a fun time of year where the normal becomes paranormal, ghosts lurk around every corner, and children get to dress up and go house to house hoping for a sack full of sticky treats at the end of the night. Abandoned and run-down houses become “haunted”. Urban legends like “The Hook” and “The White Lady” begin to make the rounds again.
Centuries ago, it was not so. All Hallows Eve, or Samhain, was a night when the veils between worlds were thinner than they would be for the entire year. The dead could return to visit their loved ones or seek revenge for their deaths. Demons walked the world to steal souls and wreak havoc. These beliefs were real to the people who lived in those times, and protections against visits from these creatures on this night were strictly observed.
Rowan branches above the door provided protection from witches, jack-o-lanterns scared away ghosts, and masks confused demons so that they would seek victims elsewhere. Bells were placed over graves so that should a vampire arise, there would be a warning.
Superstitions are a world-wide phenomenon. Some have their basis in mistaken medical diagnoses; vampires and zombies were people who were mistakenly buried alive as the result of unknown diseases, so lines attached to bells above ground could be rung by someone waking up in a coffin to alert loved ones holding vigil at the grave. Others have their basis in pagan belief systems that were demonized over time.
Whatever belief systems the myths originated in, traditions remain to celebrate or commemorate them today. Halloween as we know it is not the only tradition followed, it is simply the one we grew up participating in.
This year is a little more special than most. This year, Halloween will be graced with a rare Blue Harvest Moon. This has also been called a Hunter’s Moon or a Comanche Moon, and has legends of its own. This full moon will be bright, lighting up the night like a celestial spotlight. In the past, farmers have used the light from this moon to continue to work into the night, getting in the harvest before frost could damage it. Hunters could use the night to continue to track vast herds of buffalo, or other game, giving them a distinct advantage over animals whose nocturnal vision was not as acute.
In the early days of Texas settlement, emigrants feared the full moon. These were the nights when the Comanche would conduct raids on rival tribes or outlying settlements. The purposes of these raids were for supplies, horses, and captives. There are numerous reports of the Comanche Trail, over which the raiders would travel in West Texas and Mexico. The moon provided enough light that the raider’s horses could be sure-footed enough to avoid accidents on mountain and canyon trails.
In the spirit of the season, I have been asked to share a spooky story from Kosse’s past. For the faint of heart, stop reading here. For the brave…continue at your own risk and don’t blame me for the nightmares!
McLancy’s Curse
There is a dead-end gravel road on the outskirts of Kosse, TX. It meanders through dark woods and fields, the domain of copperheads, wild hogs, and the occasional deer. No one lives there now…but once there was a man named McLancy, who had a cotton plantation. Nothing remains of the buildings, only a few stately oaks mark the spot where the house once stood.
Devlin McLancy came to the area in the years before the Civil War. An Irish immigrant, he arrived in New York penniless, working his way south and took a position as an overseer on a plantation in Tennessee. He fell in love with a daughter of the house and married her. Soon after the wedding, his new bride discovered the pure evil of the man that she had married.
You see, Devlin McLancy was not a good man. He was, in truth, controlling and abusive, completely obsessed with money and status, and not above committing murder to get what he wanted.
When his new father in law refused to turn over the reins of the plantation in Tennessee, Devlin arranged for an “accident”. Somehow a snake had found its way into the old man’s bed. He died horribly, leaving all his worldly goods to his only living child, the new Mrs. McLancy. When rumors began to circulate about the swiftness of the old man’s death so soon after the wedding, McLancy sold off the plantation and most of the slaves, taking his wife and the money to Texas.
The McLancys arrived in the area that would become Kosse around 1850. They built the plantation in a broad meadow, bordered by Bull Creek. They began raising cotton and a family. Neighbors in the area avoided the McLancy place, as he was known to shoot first and ask questions later. They whispered among themselves when he would bring the family into town for church services or to visit the shops. Mrs. McLancy did her best, but she wasn’t always able to cover the bruises.
Over the years, Devlin McLancy accumulated money, land, and slaves. One of these slaves was a woman who became a close confidant and constant companion of Mrs. McLancy. By 1861, the McLancys had 5 daughters. Their only son had died in infancy from yellow fever. The Civil War had barely begun, and many of the men in the area had enlisted. The McLancy women hoped that Devlin would soon follow. This was not to happen. He bought himself an exemption from service and remained on the plantation where his cruelty only grew.
McLancy would beat and berate his wife for any perceived insult. He knew to temper his “punishments” in order to protect his dubious standing in the community. After all, his neighbors would only tolerate so much when it came to his wife. The slaves were not so lucky.
Slaves often disappeared, never to be seen again. He told his wife that they had run away. Others were subjected to torture and gruesome punishments, which his wife and children were forced to watch.
By 1865, when the war ended, McLancy’s fortunes had changed. The cotton market had hit rock bottom, and the Emancipation Proclamation had freed his workforce. He had been present when it had been read from the porch of Logan Stroud’s plantation house near Mexia.
He had no intention of freeing his slaves, but word had made its way to the McLancy plantation through neighbors in Kosse. By the time he returned home his slaves were all gone, apart from his wife’s companion, a woman named Mahala.
It was evening when he returned. The full moon shone over the empty fields and created shadows everywhere. When McLancy discovered the exodus, his rage knew no bounds. He began to beat his wife as he never had before. The girls and Mahala tried to stop him, but this only turned his rage on them. Mrs. McLancy screamed at the girls to run away and never look back.
Mahala reached the fire poker and struck him a blow to the head. She grabbed Mrs. McLancy and ran for the door, the girls scrambling behind her. Unfortunately, the head injury had not incapacitated the old man, only slowed him down. He grabbed his rifle and jumped on his still saddled horse. Then he ran them down…one by one.
The light from the full moon made them easy to see as they ran through the fields, trying to reach the dark woods. As he reached each one, he tied them to his horse, making them run after him as he went after the next. Once he had captured them all, he dragged them back to the huge oak at the front of the house.
They huddled in fear, not knowing what was about to happen. Devlin McLancy went to the barn and returned with a bundle of rope. The women began to scream and beg as he fashioned 6 nooses and tied them to the large limb of the oak tree. He told them that since they had betrayed him and could not be trusted to be loyal only to him, they would have to die a traitor’s death.
He began with the youngest daughter. Within a short time, his family was dead…at his hands. Mahala looked at her former master with horror, finally understanding what he was. As he leveled the rifle at her chest, she began to speak.
“Devlin McLancy. You are the devil’s own son. You will never know peace in this world or any other. For the things you have done, your soul will be tied to this land forever, doomed to return every full moon.”
McLancy laughed and pulled the trigger. Then he turned the gun on himself.
On the night of a full moon, if you are brave enough to travel down that road, beware. If you reach the site of the McLancy place while the full moon rides high in the sky, you will see the antebellum mansion that stands in the meadow. If you dare to step foot into the fields surrounding it, Old Man McLancy will hunt you. If you do not escape before the moon sets, you will be trapped there for all time, never to return.
The preceding story may or may not be a work of pure fiction. I’ll leave it up to you to decide. In the meantime, Happy Halloween!!
THe photos of the H&TC flier and the caboose are on file at the University of Texas in Austin.
Freedom of the Rails
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - October 19, 2020
This week in Kosse history is a milestone that would forever change the face and fortune of this sleepy little town in Central Texas. The town; named for chief engineer of the Houston and Texas Central Railroad, Theodore Kosse; was about to become the terminus for the railroad.
150 years ago this week, the first trains steamed into Kosse carrying passengers and freight from Houston and Galveston. Instead of taking days to travel the distance to these distant points by horse or wagon, citizens and merchants could now reach them in a matter of hours.
With the trains came an influx of new businesses, travelers, and even criminals. Hotels, dry goods stores, jewelers, saloons, doctors, and families looking for a fresh start in the country flocked to this new boom town.
Construction on the rails had begun months earlier. Workers were carried to Bremond by rail and would travel north as the rails were built. Their terminus was a railroad ‘helltown’ called Mugginsville, which was located just north of the Kosse city limits. According to newspapers at the time, Mugginsville served as a central location for the railroad workers. It was a rough place, with little law and order. This location was abandoned in mid-November 1870 as the construction continued north towards the present city of Groesbeck.
On October 1, 1870, two new steam engine trains were christened in Galveston for the express purpose of the Galveston to Kosse route. One was named the “F.A. Rice”, the other “W.E. Dodge”, named for an executive at the H & T C Railroad. These trains would make the run from Kosse to Houston twice a day.
The first train pulled into the Kosse depot the first week of November 1870. It pulled several cars containing both passengers and freight. The train had left Houston at 10am and arrived in Kosse around 8:20PM, according to the schedules posted in period newspapers. The train would leave Kosse the next morning at 6:15AM, arriving in Houston at 4PM.
Along with the excitement of new possibilities presented by the railway came tragedy. A Galveston newspaper reported the first tragedy along the line on November 8, 1870. The outgoing train had derailed 3 miles north of Bremond, killing 2 men and seriously injuring 10 other passengers and crew including a local doctor. Six of the cars had jumped the tracks leading to the tragedy. The article did not provide a cause.
The Kosse depot was not only the end of the line for a time. It also contained a telegraph office where news from Kosse traveled to newspapers all over the state. It became a hub for the transportation of cotton and other agricultural products in the area. Cotton and lumber yards lined the tracks through the city of Kosse. Hotels, mercantiles, doctor’s offices, and saloons had sprung up nearby so that travelers could quickly find relaxation, sustenance, and sleep after a long day on the rails. The calaboose (jail) was also conveniently located near the tracks just in case things got a little out of hand.
Today, the depot is gone, as is the calaboose. The depot building from Kosse is still in use as the Chamber of Commerce in Saginaw, TX. The Calaboose was sold many years ago to a private owner. The majestic Hotel Armada, with its two-story veranda is no more. Some of the buildings still stand and are in use as Farmer’s State Bank and the City Office. The original façade of one of the stores has become visible through renovations along the tracks, the metal columns attesting to the grandeur that passengers on those first trains must have seen.
When you hear the trains rumbling through the night, remember what their arrival meant for Kosse and your ancestors. When you sit at the crossing on Highway 7 waiting for the train to pass; look to your right and left and envision what wonders once stood there.
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - October 19, 2020
This week in Kosse history is a milestone that would forever change the face and fortune of this sleepy little town in Central Texas. The town; named for chief engineer of the Houston and Texas Central Railroad, Theodore Kosse; was about to become the terminus for the railroad.
150 years ago this week, the first trains steamed into Kosse carrying passengers and freight from Houston and Galveston. Instead of taking days to travel the distance to these distant points by horse or wagon, citizens and merchants could now reach them in a matter of hours.
With the trains came an influx of new businesses, travelers, and even criminals. Hotels, dry goods stores, jewelers, saloons, doctors, and families looking for a fresh start in the country flocked to this new boom town.
Construction on the rails had begun months earlier. Workers were carried to Bremond by rail and would travel north as the rails were built. Their terminus was a railroad ‘helltown’ called Mugginsville, which was located just north of the Kosse city limits. According to newspapers at the time, Mugginsville served as a central location for the railroad workers. It was a rough place, with little law and order. This location was abandoned in mid-November 1870 as the construction continued north towards the present city of Groesbeck.
On October 1, 1870, two new steam engine trains were christened in Galveston for the express purpose of the Galveston to Kosse route. One was named the “F.A. Rice”, the other “W.E. Dodge”, named for an executive at the H & T C Railroad. These trains would make the run from Kosse to Houston twice a day.
The first train pulled into the Kosse depot the first week of November 1870. It pulled several cars containing both passengers and freight. The train had left Houston at 10am and arrived in Kosse around 8:20PM, according to the schedules posted in period newspapers. The train would leave Kosse the next morning at 6:15AM, arriving in Houston at 4PM.
Along with the excitement of new possibilities presented by the railway came tragedy. A Galveston newspaper reported the first tragedy along the line on November 8, 1870. The outgoing train had derailed 3 miles north of Bremond, killing 2 men and seriously injuring 10 other passengers and crew including a local doctor. Six of the cars had jumped the tracks leading to the tragedy. The article did not provide a cause.
The Kosse depot was not only the end of the line for a time. It also contained a telegraph office where news from Kosse traveled to newspapers all over the state. It became a hub for the transportation of cotton and other agricultural products in the area. Cotton and lumber yards lined the tracks through the city of Kosse. Hotels, mercantiles, doctor’s offices, and saloons had sprung up nearby so that travelers could quickly find relaxation, sustenance, and sleep after a long day on the rails. The calaboose (jail) was also conveniently located near the tracks just in case things got a little out of hand.
Today, the depot is gone, as is the calaboose. The depot building from Kosse is still in use as the Chamber of Commerce in Saginaw, TX. The Calaboose was sold many years ago to a private owner. The majestic Hotel Armada, with its two-story veranda is no more. Some of the buildings still stand and are in use as Farmer’s State Bank and the City Office. The original façade of one of the stores has become visible through renovations along the tracks, the metal columns attesting to the grandeur that passengers on those first trains must have seen.
When you hear the trains rumbling through the night, remember what their arrival meant for Kosse and your ancestors. When you sit at the crossing on Highway 7 waiting for the train to pass; look to your right and left and envision what wonders once stood there.
Photo of the Saginaw Chamber of Commerce which used to be the Kosse train depot building.
Pestilence and Pandemic
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - October 19, 2020
It has been nearly a year since we heard the first stirrings about a new virus, that subsequently has been named Covid-19. At the time, many thought that this was just a new, stronger form of the seasonal flu that has sidelined millions of people each year.
Then came the news that this was not just another flu virus. Something that we had never seen in our lifetime was happening. A global pandemic. Even those who had experienced it before could not know the ramifications of a disease of this magnitude on today’s global society, as they had been newborns or small children during the last pandemic.
Imagine waking up one day, having no health issues, and within a few hours, falling violently ill. You feel freezing cold, your body shaking with tremors, meanwhile, the heat from the fever that is causing your chills radiates from your skin that can be felt inches away. You travel quickly to the nearest hospital.
Upon arrival you are quickly scanned for fever, and then separated from your family who has taken you to the hospital. A nurse, gowned head to toe in blue isolation gear leads you to a small room, where the staff quickly attends to you, taking vitals, blood, and running a test for Covid-19. Then you wait for the results. You are alone.
While you wait, you worry if you are about to become a statistic. Another number on the growing list of positive cases. You think about your friends, family, coworkers. Have you exposed them unknowingly to becoming as ill as you are? Where have you come in contact with the virus? A million thoughts run through your head.
Finally, in comes the guy in the metaphoric white hat. Only this time, the hat is a coat. He tells you that the test is negative. You do not have Covid-19. It is “just” the flu. You’ll be really sick for a few days, but you will be fine. Relief leaves you weaker than the fever you are already fighting.
I know…this happened to me.
While I was recovering, I kept thinking about this experience with regard to historical pandemics and epidemics. All it took to help me was antibiotics, Tylenol, lots of rest, and good ole chicken soup. But what if there were no antibiotics? No vaccines? What would have happened then?
From February 1918 to April 1920, the world was devastated by the Spanish Flu. Symptoms were similar to those of Covid, but they did not have the treatments we do now. An estimated 500 million people were infected, with anywhere between 17 and 50 million deaths. The treatments were almost as bad as the disease. People were taken and locked in wards; huge rooms filled with bed after bed. When one person died, a new person took their place. These people were treated with a variety of things…some of them archaic, such as bloodletting. Yes, they would cut a vein to drain blood, or apply leeches in attempt to reduce fever and “clean” blood. Others were downright poisonous; arsenic, strychnine, iodine, and mercury were commonly used medicinally at the time. Loved ones at home could only check newspapers and listings at sanitariums, praying not to see a family member’s name listed.
Other diseases were rampant in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Yellow Fever, Mumps, Smallpox, Cholera, Diphtheria. All deadly at the time, and all made various appearances in Limestone county through the years. Editions of the Kosse Cyclone from 1918-1919 contain some names of victims suffering from these various ailments. At times whole families were infected, leaving only one or two survivors but time it had run its course.
To say that we are living in unprecedented times is not entirely accurate. Yes, we are all struggling with how to live with Covid-19 and the changes that it has wrought to our daily lives. We all pray for an end to the disease and for the successful recovery of those infected with it.
To the ladies and gentlemen at Limestone Medical Center who took care of me when I was ill:
Thank you. Your professionalism, compassion, and dedication was greatly appreciated. Thank heavens my results were negative, but for those who are not, the staff at Limestone Medical Center will take good care of you.
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - October 19, 2020
It has been nearly a year since we heard the first stirrings about a new virus, that subsequently has been named Covid-19. At the time, many thought that this was just a new, stronger form of the seasonal flu that has sidelined millions of people each year.
Then came the news that this was not just another flu virus. Something that we had never seen in our lifetime was happening. A global pandemic. Even those who had experienced it before could not know the ramifications of a disease of this magnitude on today’s global society, as they had been newborns or small children during the last pandemic.
Imagine waking up one day, having no health issues, and within a few hours, falling violently ill. You feel freezing cold, your body shaking with tremors, meanwhile, the heat from the fever that is causing your chills radiates from your skin that can be felt inches away. You travel quickly to the nearest hospital.
Upon arrival you are quickly scanned for fever, and then separated from your family who has taken you to the hospital. A nurse, gowned head to toe in blue isolation gear leads you to a small room, where the staff quickly attends to you, taking vitals, blood, and running a test for Covid-19. Then you wait for the results. You are alone.
While you wait, you worry if you are about to become a statistic. Another number on the growing list of positive cases. You think about your friends, family, coworkers. Have you exposed them unknowingly to becoming as ill as you are? Where have you come in contact with the virus? A million thoughts run through your head.
Finally, in comes the guy in the metaphoric white hat. Only this time, the hat is a coat. He tells you that the test is negative. You do not have Covid-19. It is “just” the flu. You’ll be really sick for a few days, but you will be fine. Relief leaves you weaker than the fever you are already fighting.
I know…this happened to me.
While I was recovering, I kept thinking about this experience with regard to historical pandemics and epidemics. All it took to help me was antibiotics, Tylenol, lots of rest, and good ole chicken soup. But what if there were no antibiotics? No vaccines? What would have happened then?
From February 1918 to April 1920, the world was devastated by the Spanish Flu. Symptoms were similar to those of Covid, but they did not have the treatments we do now. An estimated 500 million people were infected, with anywhere between 17 and 50 million deaths. The treatments were almost as bad as the disease. People were taken and locked in wards; huge rooms filled with bed after bed. When one person died, a new person took their place. These people were treated with a variety of things…some of them archaic, such as bloodletting. Yes, they would cut a vein to drain blood, or apply leeches in attempt to reduce fever and “clean” blood. Others were downright poisonous; arsenic, strychnine, iodine, and mercury were commonly used medicinally at the time. Loved ones at home could only check newspapers and listings at sanitariums, praying not to see a family member’s name listed.
Other diseases were rampant in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Yellow Fever, Mumps, Smallpox, Cholera, Diphtheria. All deadly at the time, and all made various appearances in Limestone county through the years. Editions of the Kosse Cyclone from 1918-1919 contain some names of victims suffering from these various ailments. At times whole families were infected, leaving only one or two survivors but time it had run its course.
To say that we are living in unprecedented times is not entirely accurate. Yes, we are all struggling with how to live with Covid-19 and the changes that it has wrought to our daily lives. We all pray for an end to the disease and for the successful recovery of those infected with it.
To the ladies and gentlemen at Limestone Medical Center who took care of me when I was ill:
Thank you. Your professionalism, compassion, and dedication was greatly appreciated. Thank heavens my results were negative, but for those who are not, the staff at Limestone Medical Center will take good care of you.
Literary Talents of Kosse
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - September 21, 2020
For many of us, history is a fascinating subject, one that fuels the imagination and leads to exciting discoveries. While looking through old photographs at the Kosse Heritage Society, I came across a group of writings written by a man that called himself “Lazy Lester”.
From the notes on the margins of some of them, I deduced that they had once been published somewhere; the Kosse Cyclone, the Kosse Echo, or maybe even the Groesbeck Journal. There were no dates, and no signatures other than “Lazy Lester”. Some of the stories are handwritten, some are typed.
I eagerly began to read them, hoping that they would contain clues about Kosse’s past that have since been forgotten. I expected to spend a few hours deciphering the old script and coming out with a handful of notes that would lead me down new paths of discovery.
Well, I did spend a few hours, but ended up with no notes. Instead, I had tears rolling down my cheeks from laughing so much! I don’t know who "Lazy Lester" was (it has been suggested that this was a pseudonym for Flew Parsons), but I know that I would have loved to have met the man that wrote these stories!!
"A Walk from Kosse by: Lazy Lester"
Once upon a time there was a tall, skinny boy with pimples on his face who thought he knew it all. He was always going off on a wild goose chase, trying to find a way to get out of picking cotton and cutting stove wood; and he was from Heads Prairie. Well that night I swung off this freight train in Kosse. Mr. Rube Dillion was down there as usual, and when I told him I was going to walk out home, he said. “You know Lazy, it gets pretty dark away from these depot lights.”
Well, I started out (that was before Highway 7 was thought of.). I went over that Weaver Hill and right on down though Eutaw. It was getting darker and a little foggy. I saw a dim light in the window at Malone’s and thought about going out there and telling them that I needed to stop for the night, but I was afraid that Jack would think I was a afraid to continue on. Just to honest, I was a little more jumpy than usual.
I rounded that corner; you know where the tank of water was, and the red flowers used to be? I had just passed the Lauderdale place, and then it dawned on me; this was not a good night to be out.
I was approaching Persimmons Pond and that is where the ghost got after my uncle Harrison Clark, back when he was searching for gold. I was looking toward Persimmons Pond and could see some kind of eerie light coming up off those old dead trees.
It couldn’t be those white birds that live out there, because they don’t fly at night. The fog got thicker and thicker. Maybe it was fox fire, and maybe Uncle Harrington was right. Anyhow, I was not going to stick around to see, because it seemed like this light was settling right in over me.
I TOOK OFF!!! I went around that corner where Boyd and Gladys used to live and right across that culvert below and cut through the back of the Bill Bullock place. I figured on coming out right in front of John Kidd’s store and cutting across the Clark place right to our back door.
Needless to say, I was hurdling them fences. Just as things began to look a little better and I slowed down, I glanced over my shoulder and in the misty fog could see what appeared to be a medium sized wolf loping along behind me.
I turned it on and when I jumped that fence in front of the store, a big jack rabbit jumped up. I kicked him out of the way and said, “Move Mr. Rabbit and let somebody in there that can run!” I thought maybe he would attract the wolf’s attention, BUT NO!!! The wolf preferred to continue after me.
I knew that the gap to the stomp lot just behind out house was open, so I headed for it. Well, our old plow horse named Bill was laying in the sand in that gap asleep. That wolf and me hit old Bill at the same time and he got up in a hurry.
When I got up and the fog had lifted, that wolf turned out to be old Dutch, my collie dog. I said, “Dutch I ought to snatch a hickory limb off this tree and wear you out for scaring me like this!”
But who could hit a poor old collie dog who had treed the biggest coon ever on Pool Branch? Sometime, I’ll tell you about the real pack of wolves that got after me when I was possum hunting down on Duck Creek.
In case you’re wondering, yes, I’m still laughing! There are many more jewels like this in our collection. If anyone knows for sure who Lazy Lester was, we would love to know so that we can attribute these wonderful stories to a real person. Perhaps, though, it is more fun to leave Lazy Lester a mystery!
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - September 21, 2020
For many of us, history is a fascinating subject, one that fuels the imagination and leads to exciting discoveries. While looking through old photographs at the Kosse Heritage Society, I came across a group of writings written by a man that called himself “Lazy Lester”.
From the notes on the margins of some of them, I deduced that they had once been published somewhere; the Kosse Cyclone, the Kosse Echo, or maybe even the Groesbeck Journal. There were no dates, and no signatures other than “Lazy Lester”. Some of the stories are handwritten, some are typed.
I eagerly began to read them, hoping that they would contain clues about Kosse’s past that have since been forgotten. I expected to spend a few hours deciphering the old script and coming out with a handful of notes that would lead me down new paths of discovery.
Well, I did spend a few hours, but ended up with no notes. Instead, I had tears rolling down my cheeks from laughing so much! I don’t know who "Lazy Lester" was (it has been suggested that this was a pseudonym for Flew Parsons), but I know that I would have loved to have met the man that wrote these stories!!
"A Walk from Kosse by: Lazy Lester"
Once upon a time there was a tall, skinny boy with pimples on his face who thought he knew it all. He was always going off on a wild goose chase, trying to find a way to get out of picking cotton and cutting stove wood; and he was from Heads Prairie. Well that night I swung off this freight train in Kosse. Mr. Rube Dillion was down there as usual, and when I told him I was going to walk out home, he said. “You know Lazy, it gets pretty dark away from these depot lights.”
Well, I started out (that was before Highway 7 was thought of.). I went over that Weaver Hill and right on down though Eutaw. It was getting darker and a little foggy. I saw a dim light in the window at Malone’s and thought about going out there and telling them that I needed to stop for the night, but I was afraid that Jack would think I was a afraid to continue on. Just to honest, I was a little more jumpy than usual.
I rounded that corner; you know where the tank of water was, and the red flowers used to be? I had just passed the Lauderdale place, and then it dawned on me; this was not a good night to be out.
I was approaching Persimmons Pond and that is where the ghost got after my uncle Harrison Clark, back when he was searching for gold. I was looking toward Persimmons Pond and could see some kind of eerie light coming up off those old dead trees.
It couldn’t be those white birds that live out there, because they don’t fly at night. The fog got thicker and thicker. Maybe it was fox fire, and maybe Uncle Harrington was right. Anyhow, I was not going to stick around to see, because it seemed like this light was settling right in over me.
I TOOK OFF!!! I went around that corner where Boyd and Gladys used to live and right across that culvert below and cut through the back of the Bill Bullock place. I figured on coming out right in front of John Kidd’s store and cutting across the Clark place right to our back door.
Needless to say, I was hurdling them fences. Just as things began to look a little better and I slowed down, I glanced over my shoulder and in the misty fog could see what appeared to be a medium sized wolf loping along behind me.
I turned it on and when I jumped that fence in front of the store, a big jack rabbit jumped up. I kicked him out of the way and said, “Move Mr. Rabbit and let somebody in there that can run!” I thought maybe he would attract the wolf’s attention, BUT NO!!! The wolf preferred to continue after me.
I knew that the gap to the stomp lot just behind out house was open, so I headed for it. Well, our old plow horse named Bill was laying in the sand in that gap asleep. That wolf and me hit old Bill at the same time and he got up in a hurry.
When I got up and the fog had lifted, that wolf turned out to be old Dutch, my collie dog. I said, “Dutch I ought to snatch a hickory limb off this tree and wear you out for scaring me like this!”
But who could hit a poor old collie dog who had treed the biggest coon ever on Pool Branch? Sometime, I’ll tell you about the real pack of wolves that got after me when I was possum hunting down on Duck Creek.
In case you’re wondering, yes, I’m still laughing! There are many more jewels like this in our collection. If anyone knows for sure who Lazy Lester was, we would love to know so that we can attribute these wonderful stories to a real person. Perhaps, though, it is more fun to leave Lazy Lester a mystery!
All Hail the King
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - September 14, 2020
Before the Civil War, America had a king…King Cotton. Cotton fields stretched as far as the eye could see all over the deep South, including Texas. Cotton was highly profitable as it provided a cheaper alternative to silks and other expensive fabrics; and a cooler one than wool.
Obviously, the profitability of cotton took a serious hit after slavery was abolished and former slaveholders had little alternative than to pay the people who processed the crops. Likewise, much of the country that had been used to farm vast acres of cotton had been devastated by battle and the arrival of the carpetbagger. Many formerly wealthy plantation owners no longer had the means to pay the taxes on their lands and so moved west and began again.
Cotton had been grown in Texas along with grain crops for many years before the Civil War. After it, a new influx of farmers expanded the market exponentially. Gins and seed oil companies began springing up in every community with Galveston being the main shipping terminal for all things cotton.
Kosse had many gins over the years, both within and without the city limits. Before the rail lines came, farmers would load wagons and ship the cotton by mule team to the nearest railhead. From there it would be weighed and sent to places like Galveston to be processed. Once Kosse’s gins were operational, farmers could be paid for their goods right in their own hometown.
Some of the gins that we know of in the Kosse area are the Kling, Munger, Whitlow, and Gunter Gins. The Kling was located on N. Narcissus St., the Munger on S. Narcissus St., the Gunter on Adams, and the Whitlow was located one mile west of Kosse. The longest running gins were the Kling and the Munger. The Whitlow gin burned to the ground in 1895 due to a match being thrown into the seed cotton while the gin was running.
Cotton was packed into bags in the field, which were transported to the gin by wagon. Once there, the bags were weighed and tallied. From here the cotton would be fed into the gin where the seeds were separated from the lint using huge saw blades. The seeds would drop down into a chute and the lint would be conveyed to a separate area.
The lint would then be taken to a baling box where it would be compressed into bales weighing anywhere from 400 to 500lbs. The seeds would be either sold to reproduce the next crop or sent to a refinery to be pressed to produce seed oil. Cotton yards sprung up along the railroad tracks that passed through Kosse. One was located where the Kosse Volunteer Fire Station now stands.
Some of the older folks in Kosse remember picking cotton in the fields and even riding on top of the bales on the way to the gin. Jack Foshee shared some stories regarding the Kling gin and the dangers of this profession.
As a young boy, Jack recalls: “Booge Mitchell ran the 1st Munger and the Kling gins. He used to live there in the house close to the water tower. There was a big tank that we called the cooling tank. It was used for cooling those steam engines. That old steam engine, I remember him going out there and firing them up, and boy they would send up smoke! The smoke made big smoke rings.”
Mr. Foshee also spoke about the dangers of working the gins: “The Klings, they had a son that lost an arm in the gin. There were two men, Hester Price, and Heg Kling that lost arms in that gin. The cotton would get bound up and you’d have to clear it to keep the gin running. There were big saw blades in there to separate the seeds from the cotton. My grandfather would always use a stick to clear it, but Heg, his sleeve got caught and pulled him right into those blades.”
In 1883, a Kosseite named J.D. Flanagan filed for a patent on an improvement of this feature of the gin. In his application he cited the frequency of the cotton becoming bound up, and so he invented what he thought was a more efficient and safer seed separating mechanism. The patent was granted for his lifetime only. In 1886, a Kosseite named W.S. Bryan filed an improvement to the machinery of the baling boxes at gins. It involved a mechanism to pack the cotton more compactly in order to make it applying baling wires or bands to the bales easier. This too was a lifetime only patent. Copies of these patents can be seen at the Kosse Heritage Society.
Not only were men trying to improve the machinery and processes for cotton, they held their own with market pricing as well. An article published in the Liberty Vindicator; September 7, 1894 details a response from the cotton farmers of cotton to low pricing instituted by the larger refining operations in Texas. The four largest cotton processing companies had banded together to increase their profits by paying farmers less than the market price for their crops.
The farmers of Kosse united and instituted a trade agreement of their own during a meeting at the Kosse Opera House. They agreed to hold all seed until prices came up to a fair price, encouraged farmers to sell to local mills who were paying higher prices, and agreed not to sell for less than $10.00 per ton. This trade agreement was posted in newspapers across the state, with many other communities; including Eureka; instituting similar policies.
Cotton was a huge part of the town’s economy for many years. Not much remains of the gins from Kosse’s past today. The Kling gin has some concrete features that are still visible, but of the rest nothing remains but photographs, memories, and a few small artifacts.
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - September 14, 2020
Before the Civil War, America had a king…King Cotton. Cotton fields stretched as far as the eye could see all over the deep South, including Texas. Cotton was highly profitable as it provided a cheaper alternative to silks and other expensive fabrics; and a cooler one than wool.
Obviously, the profitability of cotton took a serious hit after slavery was abolished and former slaveholders had little alternative than to pay the people who processed the crops. Likewise, much of the country that had been used to farm vast acres of cotton had been devastated by battle and the arrival of the carpetbagger. Many formerly wealthy plantation owners no longer had the means to pay the taxes on their lands and so moved west and began again.
Cotton had been grown in Texas along with grain crops for many years before the Civil War. After it, a new influx of farmers expanded the market exponentially. Gins and seed oil companies began springing up in every community with Galveston being the main shipping terminal for all things cotton.
Kosse had many gins over the years, both within and without the city limits. Before the rail lines came, farmers would load wagons and ship the cotton by mule team to the nearest railhead. From there it would be weighed and sent to places like Galveston to be processed. Once Kosse’s gins were operational, farmers could be paid for their goods right in their own hometown.
Some of the gins that we know of in the Kosse area are the Kling, Munger, Whitlow, and Gunter Gins. The Kling was located on N. Narcissus St., the Munger on S. Narcissus St., the Gunter on Adams, and the Whitlow was located one mile west of Kosse. The longest running gins were the Kling and the Munger. The Whitlow gin burned to the ground in 1895 due to a match being thrown into the seed cotton while the gin was running.
Cotton was packed into bags in the field, which were transported to the gin by wagon. Once there, the bags were weighed and tallied. From here the cotton would be fed into the gin where the seeds were separated from the lint using huge saw blades. The seeds would drop down into a chute and the lint would be conveyed to a separate area.
The lint would then be taken to a baling box where it would be compressed into bales weighing anywhere from 400 to 500lbs. The seeds would be either sold to reproduce the next crop or sent to a refinery to be pressed to produce seed oil. Cotton yards sprung up along the railroad tracks that passed through Kosse. One was located where the Kosse Volunteer Fire Station now stands.
Some of the older folks in Kosse remember picking cotton in the fields and even riding on top of the bales on the way to the gin. Jack Foshee shared some stories regarding the Kling gin and the dangers of this profession.
As a young boy, Jack recalls: “Booge Mitchell ran the 1st Munger and the Kling gins. He used to live there in the house close to the water tower. There was a big tank that we called the cooling tank. It was used for cooling those steam engines. That old steam engine, I remember him going out there and firing them up, and boy they would send up smoke! The smoke made big smoke rings.”
Mr. Foshee also spoke about the dangers of working the gins: “The Klings, they had a son that lost an arm in the gin. There were two men, Hester Price, and Heg Kling that lost arms in that gin. The cotton would get bound up and you’d have to clear it to keep the gin running. There were big saw blades in there to separate the seeds from the cotton. My grandfather would always use a stick to clear it, but Heg, his sleeve got caught and pulled him right into those blades.”
In 1883, a Kosseite named J.D. Flanagan filed for a patent on an improvement of this feature of the gin. In his application he cited the frequency of the cotton becoming bound up, and so he invented what he thought was a more efficient and safer seed separating mechanism. The patent was granted for his lifetime only. In 1886, a Kosseite named W.S. Bryan filed an improvement to the machinery of the baling boxes at gins. It involved a mechanism to pack the cotton more compactly in order to make it applying baling wires or bands to the bales easier. This too was a lifetime only patent. Copies of these patents can be seen at the Kosse Heritage Society.
Not only were men trying to improve the machinery and processes for cotton, they held their own with market pricing as well. An article published in the Liberty Vindicator; September 7, 1894 details a response from the cotton farmers of cotton to low pricing instituted by the larger refining operations in Texas. The four largest cotton processing companies had banded together to increase their profits by paying farmers less than the market price for their crops.
The farmers of Kosse united and instituted a trade agreement of their own during a meeting at the Kosse Opera House. They agreed to hold all seed until prices came up to a fair price, encouraged farmers to sell to local mills who were paying higher prices, and agreed not to sell for less than $10.00 per ton. This trade agreement was posted in newspapers across the state, with many other communities; including Eureka; instituting similar policies.
Cotton was a huge part of the town’s economy for many years. Not much remains of the gins from Kosse’s past today. The Kling gin has some concrete features that are still visible, but of the rest nothing remains but photographs, memories, and a few small artifacts.
Bottoms Up...or not!
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - September 7, 2020
On August 21, 1885, the very first edition of the Kosse Cyclone was printed. The publisher was a man named James O. Jones. That week, the Galveston Daily News printed the following quote from Mr. Jones.
“To run the Cyclone is in the interest of Kosse, Limestone County, the Prohibition Party, and its publisher.”
The Prohibition Party? Was that not a movement in the 1920’s? Not in Texas! The roots of Prohibition began much earlier than the 20th century.
The Temperance movement went through various stages beginning in the late 1700’s. There were many social groups devoted to the eradication of the “devil’s drink”. Many people have heard of the hatchet carrying temperance woman Carrie Nation who, in the mid-1800’s, would walk into saloons, smashing bottles and raising a ruckus.
Treatises published throughout the 18th and 19th centuries expounded on the evils of alcohol. It was claimed that alcohol was the root of poverty, domestic violence, impiety, and many other societal ills. These ideals absolutely had merit, however, temperance workers faced stiff opposition while attempting to change the laws.
Many people believed that the daily consumption of alcohol was good for the body, that it helped to ward off disease and kept the body’s “humors” balanced. One of the main ingredients in common medications from the time was a base of alcohol, along with other intoxicants like opium, morphine, or cocaine.
In 1886, the Temperance movement in Texas was in full swing. The Prohibition Party nominated several candidates for political office that year and the newspapers were full of articles relating to the restriction of alcohol sales. By this time, several laws relating to the sale of alcohol in Texas had been made and repealed. Lawmakers eventually settled on the solution to allow local governments to enact their own restrictions, rather than enacting a statewide law.
On September 1, 1886, Limestone county opted for a semi-arid state. Saloons could serve beer, but no liquor. Considering that Kosse was still a pretty wild place in 1886, this probably did not sit too well with the local citizens or the passersby. In later years, many moonshining, rum-running, and illicit sales arrests were made, including a saloon owner in Kosse, who was selling liquor in the back room of HER saloon! I wonder what Carrie Nation would have had to say about that?
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - September 7, 2020
On August 21, 1885, the very first edition of the Kosse Cyclone was printed. The publisher was a man named James O. Jones. That week, the Galveston Daily News printed the following quote from Mr. Jones.
“To run the Cyclone is in the interest of Kosse, Limestone County, the Prohibition Party, and its publisher.”
The Prohibition Party? Was that not a movement in the 1920’s? Not in Texas! The roots of Prohibition began much earlier than the 20th century.
The Temperance movement went through various stages beginning in the late 1700’s. There were many social groups devoted to the eradication of the “devil’s drink”. Many people have heard of the hatchet carrying temperance woman Carrie Nation who, in the mid-1800’s, would walk into saloons, smashing bottles and raising a ruckus.
Treatises published throughout the 18th and 19th centuries expounded on the evils of alcohol. It was claimed that alcohol was the root of poverty, domestic violence, impiety, and many other societal ills. These ideals absolutely had merit, however, temperance workers faced stiff opposition while attempting to change the laws.
Many people believed that the daily consumption of alcohol was good for the body, that it helped to ward off disease and kept the body’s “humors” balanced. One of the main ingredients in common medications from the time was a base of alcohol, along with other intoxicants like opium, morphine, or cocaine.
In 1886, the Temperance movement in Texas was in full swing. The Prohibition Party nominated several candidates for political office that year and the newspapers were full of articles relating to the restriction of alcohol sales. By this time, several laws relating to the sale of alcohol in Texas had been made and repealed. Lawmakers eventually settled on the solution to allow local governments to enact their own restrictions, rather than enacting a statewide law.
On September 1, 1886, Limestone county opted for a semi-arid state. Saloons could serve beer, but no liquor. Considering that Kosse was still a pretty wild place in 1886, this probably did not sit too well with the local citizens or the passersby. In later years, many moonshining, rum-running, and illicit sales arrests were made, including a saloon owner in Kosse, who was selling liquor in the back room of HER saloon! I wonder what Carrie Nation would have had to say about that?
Wild, Wild, …Kosse?
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - August 31, 2020
When one looks at the Kosse of today, it's hard to imagine that this sleepy little community was once a very real part of the Wild West. Kosse’s humble beginnings as a railroad terminus town were anything but sleepy.
As with any railroad town seen portrayed in books and movies; Kosse was a rough and rowdy place in the beginning years. Gunfights, robberies, murder, arson, kidnappings… you name it, we had it. Newspapers across the state reported the news of Kosse, relayed through the lines of the telegraph system. Here are a few of the interesting cases.
1870:
November: A gunfight took place on the streets of Kosse. It involved a man and his son, who were both inebriated and had taken to firing pistols in the street. When the Kosse City Marshal attempted to arrest the father-son duo, shots were exchanged resulting in the death of a horse and the subsequent arrest of both men.
December: 38 arrests were reported in Kosse. The county Sheriff received orders to shut down all gambling halls in the city of Kosse. Many of the arrests came when citizens were caught gambling illicitly.
1878:
In February of this year a baby was stolen from her family. Her father, Henry Orum, was a widower whose wife had died shortly after the baby’s birth. The child was reported as having been taken by “gypsies”. The group was tracked down by citizens of Kosse, but the child was not found. Several years later, a man who was an acquaintance of Henry Orum contacted him regarding a woman named Mrs. McCarty, who strongly resembled the child that had been taken.
It turns out that the child had been given to a childless couple by the name of Nelson and raised as their daughter. When Mr. Orum and Mrs. McCarty met; Mrs. Nelson finally told the whole story of the girl’s “adoption”. Father and daughter had finally been reunited!
1879:
An arrest warrant was issued for a man suspected of rustling cattle. When deputies tried to arrest him, he fought with one of the officers, attempting to kill him. The second deputy subdued the man by striking him in the head. The suspect was taken to Groesbeck jail.
August 30, 1884:
The city marshal of Kosse, Tony Crowell was arrested, along with several other men, for obstructing the railroad tracks. He and the other men had been tying horses and mules to the tracks in order to collect monetary damages from the railroad.
February 14, 1892:
Well known Kosse jeweler and photographer Fletcher Allen’s store was robbed. The burglars broke in through the back door and made off with over $600.00 of merchandise. While this does not seem like high amount, in today’s currency, the loss would be $17, 083.58.
The inventory taken included 6 watches (both gold and silver), 100 gold rings, 25 watch chains, and an unstated number of earrings, brooches, and cufflinks. Understandably, Mr. Allen called for bloodhounds to track the thieves.
November 4, 1896:
One of the strangest stories I have come across is the story of Dr. J.K. Miles. The man was a serial bigamist! He married a young lady in 1890. Imagine her surprise, the week after her wedding, when she discovered that the two other women living with the newlyweds were not his sisters as he had claimed, but his previous (and current) wives!
The young lady ran away in the middle of the night, taking shelter with a local African American family. The family brought her to Kosse the next morning, where she was able to contact her family.
When the citizens of Kosse found out what had happened, they were not too happy to say the least. Before they could apprehend him, Dr. Miles and his wives left the area. The article of origin for this mentions that he continued his bigamist ways for many years. He married a total of six women, forcing one of them to marry another man so that he would not be caught again. Eventually his luck ran out and he was convicted of bigamy and sentenced to prison. Four of the six wives were in the audience at the trial. Case Closed!
These stories (and more) can be found by reading old newspapers found through various sources. Newspaperarchive.com is a wonderful research tool for anyone looking to research their own communities or relatives. Copies of some newspapers can be found at local libraries or historical societies as well.
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - August 31, 2020
When one looks at the Kosse of today, it's hard to imagine that this sleepy little community was once a very real part of the Wild West. Kosse’s humble beginnings as a railroad terminus town were anything but sleepy.
As with any railroad town seen portrayed in books and movies; Kosse was a rough and rowdy place in the beginning years. Gunfights, robberies, murder, arson, kidnappings… you name it, we had it. Newspapers across the state reported the news of Kosse, relayed through the lines of the telegraph system. Here are a few of the interesting cases.
1870:
November: A gunfight took place on the streets of Kosse. It involved a man and his son, who were both inebriated and had taken to firing pistols in the street. When the Kosse City Marshal attempted to arrest the father-son duo, shots were exchanged resulting in the death of a horse and the subsequent arrest of both men.
December: 38 arrests were reported in Kosse. The county Sheriff received orders to shut down all gambling halls in the city of Kosse. Many of the arrests came when citizens were caught gambling illicitly.
1878:
In February of this year a baby was stolen from her family. Her father, Henry Orum, was a widower whose wife had died shortly after the baby’s birth. The child was reported as having been taken by “gypsies”. The group was tracked down by citizens of Kosse, but the child was not found. Several years later, a man who was an acquaintance of Henry Orum contacted him regarding a woman named Mrs. McCarty, who strongly resembled the child that had been taken.
It turns out that the child had been given to a childless couple by the name of Nelson and raised as their daughter. When Mr. Orum and Mrs. McCarty met; Mrs. Nelson finally told the whole story of the girl’s “adoption”. Father and daughter had finally been reunited!
1879:
An arrest warrant was issued for a man suspected of rustling cattle. When deputies tried to arrest him, he fought with one of the officers, attempting to kill him. The second deputy subdued the man by striking him in the head. The suspect was taken to Groesbeck jail.
August 30, 1884:
The city marshal of Kosse, Tony Crowell was arrested, along with several other men, for obstructing the railroad tracks. He and the other men had been tying horses and mules to the tracks in order to collect monetary damages from the railroad.
February 14, 1892:
Well known Kosse jeweler and photographer Fletcher Allen’s store was robbed. The burglars broke in through the back door and made off with over $600.00 of merchandise. While this does not seem like high amount, in today’s currency, the loss would be $17, 083.58.
The inventory taken included 6 watches (both gold and silver), 100 gold rings, 25 watch chains, and an unstated number of earrings, brooches, and cufflinks. Understandably, Mr. Allen called for bloodhounds to track the thieves.
November 4, 1896:
One of the strangest stories I have come across is the story of Dr. J.K. Miles. The man was a serial bigamist! He married a young lady in 1890. Imagine her surprise, the week after her wedding, when she discovered that the two other women living with the newlyweds were not his sisters as he had claimed, but his previous (and current) wives!
The young lady ran away in the middle of the night, taking shelter with a local African American family. The family brought her to Kosse the next morning, where she was able to contact her family.
When the citizens of Kosse found out what had happened, they were not too happy to say the least. Before they could apprehend him, Dr. Miles and his wives left the area. The article of origin for this mentions that he continued his bigamist ways for many years. He married a total of six women, forcing one of them to marry another man so that he would not be caught again. Eventually his luck ran out and he was convicted of bigamy and sentenced to prison. Four of the six wives were in the audience at the trial. Case Closed!
These stories (and more) can be found by reading old newspapers found through various sources. Newspaperarchive.com is a wonderful research tool for anyone looking to research their own communities or relatives. Copies of some newspapers can be found at local libraries or historical societies as well.
The Grand Dame: Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House, Part 2
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - Aug 23, 2020
The story of the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House continues this week with the story of the Gidden family. Mrs. Hearne sold the Victorian farmhouse to Isaac (Ike) and Carrie Gidden in 1913. They lived in the home until 1955 when Mrs. Gidden, a widow by this time sold the house once again.
Isaac Gidden, better known as Ike, was born in Arkansas on November 26, 1862, the third child of Sidney Cumanos Gidden and his wife Mary Ellen (Anderson). Earlier that year, Sidney Gidden had enlisted in the Confederate Army, 24th Infantry Arkansas, Company F.
Two months after Isaac’s birth, tragedy was narrowly averted when his father’s unit was fighting the battle of Arkansas Post on 1/11/1863. During the battle, the majority of the unit was captured by Union forces, the POW’s remanded to northern prisons for the remainder of the war. Sidney Gidden, and a few others, evaded capture and were merged with survivors of the 19th infantry to form Hardy’s Arkansas Infantry Regiment. This unit went on the fight in the Little River and Red River campaigns.
Sidney and Mary Ellen moved their growing family to Texas in 1873. Their seventh child, Viola, would be the first born in Texas. The Giddens had a total of nine children; 5 boys and 4 girls. They owned and operated a large farm in the Kosse/Eutaw area.
On December 1, 1889, Ike married a local girl, Carrie Moss. Carrie was a granddaughter of Captain Anderson (Anson) Moss. Captain Moss led the Eutaw Blues, a calvary unit during the Civil War. The Eutaw Blues also fought several battles during the Red River campaign. They gained a reputation as fierce fighters and were renowned for their persistence in engaging Union forces. Anson Moss later became a postmaster at Eutaw, Tx.
Ike and Carrie Gidden moved into the farmhouse after they purchased it in 1913. They continued to operate their farm for many years. Three children were born to the Giddens. Elba Florence, Eva Jewel, and Isaac Floyd. Isaac served in the U.S. Navy Reserves during WWII.
It is believed that the Giddens are the first family to enjoy indoor plumbing at the house. Part of the side porch area at the back of the house was enclosed to create the bathroom. Mr. Gidden passed away on January 8, 1937. Mrs. Gidden remained in the house until selling it to James Hunter in 1955. After this time, Mrs. Gidden moved to Houston with her daughter, where she passed away April 9, 19623.
The house remained empty for several years until the 1960’s when it was rented to Mr. and Mrs. Young. At some point after the Youngs moved on, the back porch; where the kitchen was located; collapsed. The early photograph shows the collapsed porch at the back of the house. Mark Tuton purchased the house and began restoration work in the 1980’s.
The interior is in remarkable condition. The floors, walls, even most of the decorative molding remains intact. The house also boasts working pocket doors and a solid staircase to the second floor. Recently, remnants of the original wallpapers that were present in several rooms have been removed for framing and preservation. Work to replace siding damaged from the collapse of the porch and beadboard ceiling replacement will begin within the next few months.
Exciting things are in store for this beautiful building in the future. We hope to be able to make significant headway with the restoration efforts over the next year. While Kosse celebrates its sesquicentennial, the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House will celebrate her 127th birthday.
Tours can be scheduled through our website www.oldhousekosse.org, or by emailing us at [email protected] . You can also visit during our annual open house events held during Kosse’s homecoming celebrations in June 2021. Donations to benefit the restoration efforts can be sent to
Kosse Heritage Society, P.O. Box 51, Kosse, Tx 76653.
By: Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society - Aug 23, 2020
The story of the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House continues this week with the story of the Gidden family. Mrs. Hearne sold the Victorian farmhouse to Isaac (Ike) and Carrie Gidden in 1913. They lived in the home until 1955 when Mrs. Gidden, a widow by this time sold the house once again.
Isaac Gidden, better known as Ike, was born in Arkansas on November 26, 1862, the third child of Sidney Cumanos Gidden and his wife Mary Ellen (Anderson). Earlier that year, Sidney Gidden had enlisted in the Confederate Army, 24th Infantry Arkansas, Company F.
Two months after Isaac’s birth, tragedy was narrowly averted when his father’s unit was fighting the battle of Arkansas Post on 1/11/1863. During the battle, the majority of the unit was captured by Union forces, the POW’s remanded to northern prisons for the remainder of the war. Sidney Gidden, and a few others, evaded capture and were merged with survivors of the 19th infantry to form Hardy’s Arkansas Infantry Regiment. This unit went on the fight in the Little River and Red River campaigns.
Sidney and Mary Ellen moved their growing family to Texas in 1873. Their seventh child, Viola, would be the first born in Texas. The Giddens had a total of nine children; 5 boys and 4 girls. They owned and operated a large farm in the Kosse/Eutaw area.
On December 1, 1889, Ike married a local girl, Carrie Moss. Carrie was a granddaughter of Captain Anderson (Anson) Moss. Captain Moss led the Eutaw Blues, a calvary unit during the Civil War. The Eutaw Blues also fought several battles during the Red River campaign. They gained a reputation as fierce fighters and were renowned for their persistence in engaging Union forces. Anson Moss later became a postmaster at Eutaw, Tx.
Ike and Carrie Gidden moved into the farmhouse after they purchased it in 1913. They continued to operate their farm for many years. Three children were born to the Giddens. Elba Florence, Eva Jewel, and Isaac Floyd. Isaac served in the U.S. Navy Reserves during WWII.
It is believed that the Giddens are the first family to enjoy indoor plumbing at the house. Part of the side porch area at the back of the house was enclosed to create the bathroom. Mr. Gidden passed away on January 8, 1937. Mrs. Gidden remained in the house until selling it to James Hunter in 1955. After this time, Mrs. Gidden moved to Houston with her daughter, where she passed away April 9, 19623.
The house remained empty for several years until the 1960’s when it was rented to Mr. and Mrs. Young. At some point after the Youngs moved on, the back porch; where the kitchen was located; collapsed. The early photograph shows the collapsed porch at the back of the house. Mark Tuton purchased the house and began restoration work in the 1980’s.
The interior is in remarkable condition. The floors, walls, even most of the decorative molding remains intact. The house also boasts working pocket doors and a solid staircase to the second floor. Recently, remnants of the original wallpapers that were present in several rooms have been removed for framing and preservation. Work to replace siding damaged from the collapse of the porch and beadboard ceiling replacement will begin within the next few months.
Exciting things are in store for this beautiful building in the future. We hope to be able to make significant headway with the restoration efforts over the next year. While Kosse celebrates its sesquicentennial, the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House will celebrate her 127th birthday.
Tours can be scheduled through our website www.oldhousekosse.org, or by emailing us at [email protected] . You can also visit during our annual open house events held during Kosse’s homecoming celebrations in June 2021. Donations to benefit the restoration efforts can be sent to
Kosse Heritage Society, P.O. Box 51, Kosse, Tx 76653.
The Grand Dame: Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House, Part 1
By Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society – August 16, 2020
Just east of Kosse on Highway 7, stands one of the oldest private residences in the city of Kosse. An imposing Victorian structure; that has captured the eyes and imaginations of untold numbers of residents and visitors alike; the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House is one of the most striking and memorable early buildings that remains in Kosse.
When I first moved to Kosse, I took a walk to explore my new hometown. I wandered through the various neighborhoods and the downtown area, enjoying the older buildings and the immense sense of history that they conveyed. Knowing my love of all things historic, some of my new neighbors told me about the “old house” just outside of Kosse. Intrigued, I grabbed my camera and started off in the direction that they had indicated.
I remember the first time I saw it. I stood outside the fence and stared in awe at the imposing structure in front of me. As I took in the details of the gingerbread, the shake roof, the large dark windows, my mind began to race.
What secrets did this grand lady hold? Who were her people? What was it like inside? The answers to these, and many other questions would come through time.
The Hearn-Gidden-Hunter house was built in 1894 by Robert Austin Hearn and his wife Mary V. (French) Hearn. In April of 1894 a vicious storm hit the Kosse area, damaging the house while under construction. Repairs were made and a capstone was placed in the chimney commemorating the completion of the home, May 7, 1894.
Robert Austin Hearn was born November 25, 1846 in Greenwood, Jackson County, Florida. His parents, Lawrence and Margaret Hearn, had emigrated to Florida from North Carolina shortly before his birth. There they established an 80-acre homestead, which is verified by a homestead patent filed October 1, 1846. By 1850, the homestead had grown to 321 acres. Lawrence Hearn died in 1854, leaving his widow and several young children to manage this large tract.
Robert Hearn enlisted in the Confederate Army in 1863 at the tender age of 16. His unit, 5th Battalion Cavalry, A Company, fought in the battles of Olustee, Gainesville, and Braddock's Farm. After the surrender of his unit on May 10, 1865, Robert Hearn returned to the residence of his mother, who was at the time, living with relatives in Marianna, FL.
In 1873, Robert Austin Hearn pulled up roots and began his journey west. The first record of Robert Hearn in Texas was his marriage to Mary Van Buren French, which took place in Navarro County. On November 2, 1877, the first land purchase in Limestone County by Robert Hearn was recorded. The Hearns had come to Kosse. Interestingly, the two lots purchased by Robert Hearn (1877, 1878) are located where the Bunyon Ezell House now stands.
Mr. And Mrs. Hearne lived in the city of Kosse for several years. Census and agricultural records show that the Hearns appeared to be quite comfortable financially. Mr. Hearn purchased several tracts of land both within and without the city limits of Kosse. The land purchase for the eventual location of the Victorian farmhouse occurred in 1891, with an addition of 7 acres occurring on April 1,1895.
R.A. and Mary V Hearn had several children. Two girls, Neta Bell (Markham) and Mary Hall (Birdie), and four boys; Robert Luther, Edward French, James Lawrence, and Henry Everrett. All four boys served in the United States armed forces during WWI. Robert Luther became an accountant for Texas A&M. Edward French Hearn became an accomplished pianist and composer in Corsicana.
According to probate records, Robert Austin Hearn died at home on August 12, 1907. His estate was left to his beloved wife Mary. Mrs. Hearn lived in the house with a servant for many years until she sold the property to Ike and Carrie Gidden in 1913.
The Hearn-Gidden-Hunter house was one of the first residences in Kosse to have the convenience of electricity. The power was generated by a local cotton gin, and was only available on certain days in the beginning. Remnants of the old wiring, along with early ceramic wire insulators are on display at the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House today.
She has stood for 126 years. Through the years, many restoration projects of this old house have been undertaken by former owners. Restoration efforts continue today through the efforts of the current owners, the Kosse Heritage Society. Much work is still needed to preserve and restore this grand old lady to her former glory. Please stay tuned, as this story is not over. Next week, the history of the house will continue with the histories of the Gidden and Hunter families.
The house has become a beloved landmark for Kosse residents and visitors alike. Tours can be scheduled for visitors who would like to step into the past by contacting the Kosse Heritage Society through our Facebook page, as well as our website, www.OldHouseKosse.org. If you would like to help us with our restoration of the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House, donations can be mailed to Kosse Heritage Society, P.O. Box 51, Kosse, TX 76653.
If you have further questions, or stories to share regarding the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House or other Kosse history, please contact us at [email protected].
By Laura Lehmons
Kosse Heritage Society – August 16, 2020
Just east of Kosse on Highway 7, stands one of the oldest private residences in the city of Kosse. An imposing Victorian structure; that has captured the eyes and imaginations of untold numbers of residents and visitors alike; the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House is one of the most striking and memorable early buildings that remains in Kosse.
When I first moved to Kosse, I took a walk to explore my new hometown. I wandered through the various neighborhoods and the downtown area, enjoying the older buildings and the immense sense of history that they conveyed. Knowing my love of all things historic, some of my new neighbors told me about the “old house” just outside of Kosse. Intrigued, I grabbed my camera and started off in the direction that they had indicated.
I remember the first time I saw it. I stood outside the fence and stared in awe at the imposing structure in front of me. As I took in the details of the gingerbread, the shake roof, the large dark windows, my mind began to race.
What secrets did this grand lady hold? Who were her people? What was it like inside? The answers to these, and many other questions would come through time.
The Hearn-Gidden-Hunter house was built in 1894 by Robert Austin Hearn and his wife Mary V. (French) Hearn. In April of 1894 a vicious storm hit the Kosse area, damaging the house while under construction. Repairs were made and a capstone was placed in the chimney commemorating the completion of the home, May 7, 1894.
Robert Austin Hearn was born November 25, 1846 in Greenwood, Jackson County, Florida. His parents, Lawrence and Margaret Hearn, had emigrated to Florida from North Carolina shortly before his birth. There they established an 80-acre homestead, which is verified by a homestead patent filed October 1, 1846. By 1850, the homestead had grown to 321 acres. Lawrence Hearn died in 1854, leaving his widow and several young children to manage this large tract.
Robert Hearn enlisted in the Confederate Army in 1863 at the tender age of 16. His unit, 5th Battalion Cavalry, A Company, fought in the battles of Olustee, Gainesville, and Braddock's Farm. After the surrender of his unit on May 10, 1865, Robert Hearn returned to the residence of his mother, who was at the time, living with relatives in Marianna, FL.
In 1873, Robert Austin Hearn pulled up roots and began his journey west. The first record of Robert Hearn in Texas was his marriage to Mary Van Buren French, which took place in Navarro County. On November 2, 1877, the first land purchase in Limestone County by Robert Hearn was recorded. The Hearns had come to Kosse. Interestingly, the two lots purchased by Robert Hearn (1877, 1878) are located where the Bunyon Ezell House now stands.
Mr. And Mrs. Hearne lived in the city of Kosse for several years. Census and agricultural records show that the Hearns appeared to be quite comfortable financially. Mr. Hearn purchased several tracts of land both within and without the city limits of Kosse. The land purchase for the eventual location of the Victorian farmhouse occurred in 1891, with an addition of 7 acres occurring on April 1,1895.
R.A. and Mary V Hearn had several children. Two girls, Neta Bell (Markham) and Mary Hall (Birdie), and four boys; Robert Luther, Edward French, James Lawrence, and Henry Everrett. All four boys served in the United States armed forces during WWI. Robert Luther became an accountant for Texas A&M. Edward French Hearn became an accomplished pianist and composer in Corsicana.
According to probate records, Robert Austin Hearn died at home on August 12, 1907. His estate was left to his beloved wife Mary. Mrs. Hearn lived in the house with a servant for many years until she sold the property to Ike and Carrie Gidden in 1913.
The Hearn-Gidden-Hunter house was one of the first residences in Kosse to have the convenience of electricity. The power was generated by a local cotton gin, and was only available on certain days in the beginning. Remnants of the old wiring, along with early ceramic wire insulators are on display at the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House today.
She has stood for 126 years. Through the years, many restoration projects of this old house have been undertaken by former owners. Restoration efforts continue today through the efforts of the current owners, the Kosse Heritage Society. Much work is still needed to preserve and restore this grand old lady to her former glory. Please stay tuned, as this story is not over. Next week, the history of the house will continue with the histories of the Gidden and Hunter families.
The house has become a beloved landmark for Kosse residents and visitors alike. Tours can be scheduled for visitors who would like to step into the past by contacting the Kosse Heritage Society through our Facebook page, as well as our website, www.OldHouseKosse.org. If you would like to help us with our restoration of the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House, donations can be mailed to Kosse Heritage Society, P.O. Box 51, Kosse, TX 76653.
If you have further questions, or stories to share regarding the Hearn-Gidden-Hunter House or other Kosse history, please contact us at [email protected].
Whispers of Kosse’s Past:
By: Laura Lehmons, Kosse Heritage Society
August 10, 2020:
It’s that time of year when children return to learned halls, parents breathe a little easier, and those lazy days of summer quickly come to an end. It is a time we most certainly will never forget. In this time of great uncertainty, it may be prudent to remember who we are, where we come from, and the words of those who came before us.
We would like to share with you a poem written in 1986 by Peggy Truett, a 1950 graduate of Kosse High School. Mrs. Truett and her husband, Bayne, both graduated from Kosse High School where they were voted “Prettiest Girl” and “Best Looking Boy”.
This information was shared with the author by Bayne Truett, who shared their high school yearbook and gave us permission to publish her poem. The subject of the poem, Kosse High School, which merged with Groesbeck ISD in 1968, no longer stands in the field where it once did. All that remains are the memories that were made, the friendships that endured, and the knowledge imparted.
By: Laura Lehmons, Kosse Heritage Society
August 10, 2020:
It’s that time of year when children return to learned halls, parents breathe a little easier, and those lazy days of summer quickly come to an end. It is a time we most certainly will never forget. In this time of great uncertainty, it may be prudent to remember who we are, where we come from, and the words of those who came before us.
We would like to share with you a poem written in 1986 by Peggy Truett, a 1950 graduate of Kosse High School. Mrs. Truett and her husband, Bayne, both graduated from Kosse High School where they were voted “Prettiest Girl” and “Best Looking Boy”.
This information was shared with the author by Bayne Truett, who shared their high school yearbook and gave us permission to publish her poem. The subject of the poem, Kosse High School, which merged with Groesbeck ISD in 1968, no longer stands in the field where it once did. All that remains are the memories that were made, the friendships that endured, and the knowledge imparted.
Forgotten Past
By: Peggy Truett, 1986
Down the road and around the bend, they all did come when school begin,
My flag waving in the gentle breeze that blew, my windows sparkled in the morning dew.
My doors opened wide to welcome them back, from down the road and across the track.
Summer was over and my lazy days were passed, I don’t have any worries that would last.
Old Sport was there to greet them, with a smile on his face, and to let you know you had a friend so true.
They started the school in a great way, and most couldn’t wait for recess so they could play.
Skint knees, and bumped chins made it just another day.
The little girl dressed all in red made the little boys shake their head. With toad, frogs, and lizards they kept things moving fast.
Seesaws, Swings, and Slicky-slide all going strong. Boys laying marbles, girls playing jacks. Some playing hide and seek way out to the back.
It was a busy time for all to see. Lunch hour was a time to behold for out the doors they did go. Across the bridge into town, like a whirlwind you can’t calm down.
A hungry stomach was no joke; all were hungry for a hamburger and a Coke.
On to the drug store for a milkshake or malt, but most of all to sit on the stools and wish they did not have to go back to school.
I watched them it seemed from afar, from the first grade to the twelfth.
How they did grow, with mother’s pride and it did show.
The night of the prom was the most exciting of all.
Years have come and gone since I have seen a smiling face, or impish grin.
My bell does not ring out loud and clear for there are not any children now to hear...
I stand in a pasture that time has passed and my windows now have not any glass.
I wish I could hear the playful laughter ring through my halls, but all I hear now is a mouse chewing at my walls.
Purple and gold were my colors too as the girls strutted under my flag of red, white, and blue.
As the Greyhounds wandered on my football field and the entire crowd stood to give a cheer.
Now the bus that travels north carries my children away from us.
They wear the colors of red and white, with a goat upon their back.
Please don’t forget me as I stand by the way,
For I am the heritage of your parent’s yesterday.
By: Peggy Truett, 1986
Down the road and around the bend, they all did come when school begin,
My flag waving in the gentle breeze that blew, my windows sparkled in the morning dew.
My doors opened wide to welcome them back, from down the road and across the track.
Summer was over and my lazy days were passed, I don’t have any worries that would last.
Old Sport was there to greet them, with a smile on his face, and to let you know you had a friend so true.
They started the school in a great way, and most couldn’t wait for recess so they could play.
Skint knees, and bumped chins made it just another day.
The little girl dressed all in red made the little boys shake their head. With toad, frogs, and lizards they kept things moving fast.
Seesaws, Swings, and Slicky-slide all going strong. Boys laying marbles, girls playing jacks. Some playing hide and seek way out to the back.
It was a busy time for all to see. Lunch hour was a time to behold for out the doors they did go. Across the bridge into town, like a whirlwind you can’t calm down.
A hungry stomach was no joke; all were hungry for a hamburger and a Coke.
On to the drug store for a milkshake or malt, but most of all to sit on the stools and wish they did not have to go back to school.
I watched them it seemed from afar, from the first grade to the twelfth.
How they did grow, with mother’s pride and it did show.
The night of the prom was the most exciting of all.
Years have come and gone since I have seen a smiling face, or impish grin.
My bell does not ring out loud and clear for there are not any children now to hear...
I stand in a pasture that time has passed and my windows now have not any glass.
I wish I could hear the playful laughter ring through my halls, but all I hear now is a mouse chewing at my walls.
Purple and gold were my colors too as the girls strutted under my flag of red, white, and blue.
As the Greyhounds wandered on my football field and the entire crowd stood to give a cheer.
Now the bus that travels north carries my children away from us.
They wear the colors of red and white, with a goat upon their back.
Please don’t forget me as I stand by the way,
For I am the heritage of your parent’s yesterday.
150 Years of Kosse Images
A wonderful 1907 shot of a hardware store in Kosse, Texas (in Limestone County, near Mexia). The owner, A.J. Jennings, is standing at the far right. I love the signs for plows, saddles, the John Deere overhead sign etc... The photo is courtesy the fabulous photographic archives of SMU's Degolyer Library. You can search those photos by keyword right here:
https://www.smu.edu/libraries/degolyer/Collections/Photographs
Notorious outlaw John Wesley Hardin killed a man in a downtown hotel in Kosse in 1870. He was just 17 years old.
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The historic Kosse water tower was built in 1939.
This small one-story jail was located in Kosse. This structure is depicted on the Sanborn fire insurance maps dated 1899. Local residents said the calaboose was still there in the late 1950s. There was a freestanding metal cell or cage on the inside. Click on the picture for a larger view.
William Henry Moncrief about 1870
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Brothers Dr. Taz Ezell (left) and Dr. Bunyon Ezell about 1900. Both built homes that are still standing in Kosse today.
"King of Western Swing" and Country and Texas music legend, Bob Wills, was born in the Eutaw area of Kosse in 1905.
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