Mom (Gail Lee Martin) wrote this story originally for the Kanhistique Magazine which published it in the August 1992 issue. She posted it later on the Our Echo website.
A Tale of Two Bricks
The next time you pick up a brick, take a second look. It might be a collector’s item. There has been a growing interest in bricks that feature pictures, slogans, lettering, patterns or dates. Many people collect bricks for their rarity and beauty. Members of the International Brick Collectors Association regard bricks as a part of the history of mankind, and each brick has a story to tell.
The story to be told by two bricks in an El Dorado, Kansas collection is about their humble beginnings in the small town of Tyro in Montgomery County, Kansas. The story begins with an incorporated town of 500 people that benefited from the discovery of gas in 1904. The Fawn Valley Oil and Gas Company struck oil and lots of natural gas just two miles northeast of town and soon had gas piped to all the residents and businesses at the cost of two cents per thousand feet.
One of the first industries to build in Tyro was the Tyro Shale Brick Company. They began building their plant the first of August 1906. They purchased all new machinery from the C. W. Raymond Co. of Dayton, Ohio. This plant was incorporated under the Laws of Kansas with the following officers, E. A. Denny, president; O.W. Buck, vice president; C. H. Pocock, secretary; and Dave Mahaffy, treasurer. The above four men and John Hooker were selected as directors, and they all listed their addresses as Tyro, Kansas.
The brick plant was leased and operated by Allison C. Darrow. By 1910 the plant was making 1,000,000 bricks a month. This company did not own a steam shovel early on, so employed about 40 men a day.
Almost eleven months after the first brick plant was built, O. W. Buck, vice president of the Tyro Shale Brick Co., started building another plant. It was named The Tyro Vetrified Brick Company. Again all new machinery was brought from Dayton, Ohio company, including a No. 2 ’Thew’ Steam Shovel. They produced vitrified or glassy bricks completely different from the other plant. By 1919 they were employing around 36 men and were making close to 1,400,000 bricks a month.
O. W. Buck became president and manager of the new plant and Joe Lenhart became vice president. E. Baur was appointed secretary and treasurer. The directors were Buck and Lenhart of Tyro and Baur of Easton, Indiana; Luther Perkins from Coffeyville, Kansas and C. D. Nesbit of Milburn, Oklahoma. Both brick plants were situated in the northeast part of the small town on the north side of the Missouri Pacific railroad tracks. One of our story’s bricks has the name BAUR on it. It was named after E. Baur from Easton, Indiana.
Vintage postcard from Gail Martin’s family archive.
Three years later Tyro had 700 residents; nearly two miles of paved sidewalks and seven two story brick buildings. The Methodist Church membership built a “beautiful brick church, and laid the cornerstone on July 4, 1909,” according to the church historian, Mattie Broughton. The accompanying picture shows it still holds it beauty 97 years later.
Tyro had many brick buildings in its heyday.
The story of the two Tyro bricks plants probably ended around 1917 when the shortage of gas fuel caused them to close their doors. The McGhee family went to the Methodist Church and Mother’s folks the Vinings went to the Christian Church and the story of the two Tyro bricks in El Dorado continues on in this family’s memories.
Each Saturday, I try to find a vintage photo in our family album to match the one posted by the Sepia Saturday Challenge. This week, you see people playing a game with stately buildings in the background. I’m guessing that the game is badminton or tennis since it involves a net.
Our family album yielded an old-time photo of young men playing croquet. The faces don’t seem to match any of our family members from that time, so all we know is the location which is Tyro, Kansas. You can read more about my efforts to identify this photo (on our family history blog – Then And Now)
Playing croquet in Tyro, Kansas, around 1910 or so.
You may be disappointed that there are no stately buildings in the background of my photo. Tyro boasted a multi-storied high school and a substantial church but neither of those were located near enough to the McGhee family backyard to show in the photo. Instead, you see what may be an elm tree and some open fields or garden area.
So now, I’ll gratuitously toss in a photo of the Kansas State Reform School. It is nowhere near Tyro, as it is located in Topeka, Kansas. It would have made a grand background for the croquet players though. The reason that I have this photo is I’m researching an ancestor who was sent to this school in 1889. He wasn’t a McGhee though and probably the boys sent to the reform school did not have much opportunity to play croquet.
Once I finish researching that story, I’ll post it on the Then And Now blog and put a link here. Then you’ll know the rest of the story.
Kansas is having some nasty flooding right now from all the rain. That prompted me to post my mother’s memories in the Facebook group that shares Madison, Kansas stories. It triggered many of the participants to tell about their own family experiences of that record-setting flood.
Mary Meyer, “I remember the flood of ’51 quite well. I believe it occurred in July. We lived about 1.5 miles north of Madison on the river. Dad was outside putting the cows in the barn, catching what chickens he could, and taking them upstairs along with the dogs and cats. I remember sitting on the cook stove while Mom grabbed what she could and sent the 3 older kids upstairs with it. To this day, I am deathly afraid of water!
We ate cold cereal up there for about 3 days until the water went down. Then the real work began. About everything we had, including the hogs, were swept down river. I’ll never forget that swirling dirty water in the house.
Lora Esslinger Meirowsky, “Dad talks about George and Dorothy Fankhauser’s home flooding where it was originally located just south of the highway right before the road curves to the east. After the flood, they moved the house across the Verdigris River to the hill where I remember it. Then a few years ago, the home again made the journey across the river to its current location just north of where it originally began.
Mary Beth Davies, “Mom, Dad, and Larry lived with her mom’s brothers’ family in a house just south of Fanestil’s in 99. They had quite a story about evacuating in ‘51. They could hear the roar of the water in the distance and just got out in time.”
Michael A. Paske, “Being much younger, I don’t remember the ’51 flood. However, I was told I created quite a stir. We lived in farmhouse my great-grandfather built just south of US 54 bridge over Verdigris near Toronto. The house set on a little rise in the flood plain and had a 3-foot high concrete and stone foundation. Dad had moved everything to the 2nd floor that wasn’t too heavy except for kitchen table and chairs and put refrigerator up on blocks even though the electricity had gone out the day before and they were using the old “icebox” fridge.
Seems someone did not put my diaper on snuggly enough. I, having turned one year old just a week earlier and not being quite as smart as the dog, was not housebroken yet. My grandmother who was staying with us saw a puddle of water at the door and screamed the water was coming in. The folks looked out and sure enough, water was lapping over onto the porch but the house door lips were another 4 inches high. It seems I had sat watching the water out the screen door and what will happen when you watch and listen to flowing water had happened.
The flood did cover the porch with about 1-1½” of water but stopped just short of really entering our house.
Dad did have to dig 2-3 ft of mud and silt out of the cellar/basement and of course, pump our well dry (it was totally covered by flood water) and pour in a couple of jugs of bleach as it refilled. He had moved all the chickens and geese to the hayloft of the barn which was also set on a raised foundation for the milk cows and the two old draft horses, and sheep.”
Renell Schroeder, “I remember the 1951 flood like yesterday. I have pictures of water up almost to Main Street on 4th Street. I remember the Norman Harlans (mentioned in Gail Martin’s story) because Tim was a year ahead of me in school and Vickie married my husband’s cousin. So neat that someone would record what they went through during that time.”
Kristy Buckridge “My Aunt Sheila lives in the house close to the river and the floors in her house were ruined that year.”
Learn more about the 1951 floods with this 114-page report from the Weather Bureau (issued July 1952).
Many thanks to the individuals who shared their family memories. It’s good to preserve these. The flood happened almost 70 years ago so it’s rather amazing that word of mouth has preserved some of these stories.
Our guest blogger today is Sylvia Clubine. The area she writes about here is where Gail Lee Martin’s parents and grandparents lived. Gail’s roots go back to Tyro, Kansas in Montgomery County and further back into the Missouri and Arkansas Ozarks.
“Over the four-state area where your ancestors once lived, your spirit still lives there. The beauty of the OZARKS runs into S.E. Kansas, but not the total rocky surface that makes the Ozarks mountain areas. Kansas is excellent farm and natural prairie, lush grazing land, plus very lovely rocky ledges and the bottom floor of creeks and rivers with beautiful groves of trees.
I’ve explored a great part of it with the feeling that I was the first one to walk or ride my horse on that spot. Then we find an arrowhead, or many arrowheads. from your Osage past generations, just like a gem on the soil surface after a gentle rain or a harsh flood of a corn field we have been hoeing. Then we remember we took the land from a great people that made their home here before us. It grabs my heart and I want to know you as the honorable way you lived with great herds of elk and other wide-life here before we came.” – Sylvia Raydene Clubine
Near Tyro, you might see an oil tank or a pump jack, bales of hay, some rolling hills. Get away from the highway and you’ll see the open prairie.
The William Allen White family lived in a handsome home in Emporia, Kansas in the early 1900s. He was a noted newspaper editor, a Pulitzer Prize winner, and famous people, even presidents, came to visit him.
His daughter, MaryWhite, was an active teen who loved to gallop across the open prairie with her pony. The bedroom shown here is Mary‘s.
Mary White’s bedroom (photo by Virginia Allain)
It’s a simple room with a wood floor and an oriental patterned rug. There are windows on two sides making it a bright and cheery space. Venetian blinds cover the windows.
Mary White’s bedroom at Red Rock in Emporia, Kansas
A plain woven coverlet adorns the simple bed. There’s little excess space in the room, just enough to walk around the bed and room to dress. A radiator provides the heat.
For school work, writing, or reading a basic table and chair took little space in the small room.
MaryWhite died young from an accident with her horse. Her father wrote her obituary which I found quite touching in the way it was worded and the insight into her life that it gave.
The room has stayed the same over the years and the house is now a museum that you can visit. It gives you an appreciation of what a house from 1921 looks like inside.
(This post was written by Virginia Allain after a visit with her sister to the White family home, named Red Rock.)
It’s interesting to drive into a small Kansas town for the first time. Is it thriving or just hanging on? Some have lost population and businesses and all that remains are the empty storefronts and scattered residences.
Main Street in Whitewater, Kansas. Take time to visit small towns across the state to find the old-time character that remains in these little towns. (photo by Virginia Allain)
In following this blog about Gail Lee Martin’s life, you’ve already seen some small towns mentioned like Hamilton, Reading, and Tyro. There are a number of posts on the now the extinct Teterville.
I’m searching out information about Kansas towns that in some way related to my family history. Along the way, I’ve found some other interesting small Kansas towns to feature as well.
A Touching Video about the Decline of Small Towns
My sister wrote about Emporia, Kansas, where our Martin grandparents lived. It’s not as small as Hamilton or Tyro. Emporia is a thriving county seat with a university.
If you like poking around small towns, there are plenty in Kansas to explore. There are also full-scale ghost towns where only shabby, collapsing buildings remain to show that people once lived there. Daniel C. Fitzgerald has a series of books featuring these ghost towns. To see what towns are included in each book, click through to Amazon on the VIEW DETAILS buttons below.
William Leverne Smith – I was a Business School Professor at Emporia State University for 15 years (’94-’09) – went through Reading many times…
Teach – I’m originally from small town Kansas, now living in North Dakota but at long last will be moving back to the Yellow Brick Road soon…and looking forward to the time to poke around some of these great little towns!
Wednesday-Elf – I’ve spent quite a bit of time in Kansas despite the fact that I came from the East Coast (college [K-State], married a Kansas boy, two of my kids were born in Kansas and one now lives in Kansas City), and I’m partial to both small towns and the State of Kansas!
Grannysage – I’ve lived in several Kansas small towns, although I grew up in Michigan. My ex-husband is from Schoenchen which is south of Hays and where my children grew up. We also lived in Stockton which is north of Hays, Salina, and Larned. I also worked in Russell, home of Bob Dole. Right now I am living in Lawrence. There are a lot of historical towns in Kansas, and it is a different lifestyle.
Mary Beth Granger – I visited many small Kansas towns during my career as a regional director for H&R Block. Most of the offices I visited were franchises owned by local people…it was always interesting to get to know the people of Kansas small towns. Thanks for the memories.
It gets pretty hot in Kansas but Gail and Clyde were adamant about not using their window air conditioner. Summers could reach 105 degrees during the summers when I was growing up in the 1950s and 1960s. In 2011, knowing that Kansas was suffering through a heatwave even hotter than usual, I asked Mom how they were faring.
Melting Fan sculpture. I don’t know who the artist is.
July 10, 2011, Gail Lee Martin: “Depends on where you are in Kansas! We almost got rained on, which would have cooled us off. We have all the ceiling fans going and of course, we do have the great big pecan and oak trees on the south side of the house that cools the house. A cool shower now and then or a wet towel around our necks helps us get by. One of the benefits of being retired is we don’t have to get outside. Sitting on the porch swing is nice in the mornings.”
Apparently, my sisters were badgering them as well about turning on their air conditioner.
Mom sent us all an email on July 13, saying, ” OK, we give up. Tonda cleaned the wall-mounted air conditioner plugged in the unit. When it seemed to work, the girls shut all the windows. If Clyde throws a fit when we get the next bill, you will have to handle him. Mom”
Tonda and her daughters cleaned the folks’ house every two weeks. I’m guessing that consideration of their comfort while they worked overcame Mom’s scruples about using the air conditioner.
I sent this message that day, “Well, good! Don’t save your money for your kids to inherit while you die of a heat stroke. Be comfortable and we’ll survive without anticipating getting your life savings. Ginger
PS – got so hot here in New Hampshire, that we even had our air conditioner on yesterday. We avoid using it but finally gave in.”
Her daughter, Cindy, messaged too, “We’re thinking our grandson may have gotten a touch of heatstroke from walking to the Park City pool, staying in the heat with the sun reflecting off the water & then walking back again. To say the least, this summer has been hot-hot-hot. Leaves are already falling off the trees. The excessive heat makes me major grumpy & tired.
So Mom, don’t think of it as giving up, think of it as being wise. Just know your kids are concerned for you especially after all the warnings we’ve heard on the news lately. And if you/ dad think your electric bill is too high, then I’ll offer to trade you my bill.”
Gail answered her daughters’ concerns with this message, “Thanks, everyone, but I think we will manage. Clyde is afraid we will lose our economy rating with the electric company.
One thing I miss is hearing the birds singing. Probably won’t miss hearing all the kid noise or the speeding cars. The unit does make a noise that I don’t like.
We were cold during the night, but Clyde is learning to adjust it to not be so cold. Yeah, I have socks and slacks on this morning. The kitchen and the writing room are the warmest places, but fans will take care of that.
We ate ham salad sandwiches from Susie’s last night, had Jerica go get them for us. We have lots of tater tots left over that will make good hashbrowns to go with fried eggs.”
The month of July 2011 averaged 102 degrees in the Wichita, Kansas area. The hottest day was 111 degrees. The heatwave continued on into August. Kansas was just one of many states suffering the excessive heat. According to Wikipedia, “The heat was blamed for at least 25 deaths across the Midwest and the Northeast.”
Gail Lee Martin used to gallivant about the Kansas countryside with her daughters. She’d taught them in childhood about the delights of setting off on an exploratory road trip. Once they were grown, there were still new places to see and new adventures to try.
Here’s Gail’s description of such a day’s outing in May 2002. The event is called the Kansas Sampler Festival and it provides a showcase for performers, sights, foods, and anything Kansas related. Next week, May 6 and 7th, 2017 is the last time for this festival. This one is in Winfield.
“Well, I had hoped Cindy would tell her side of the weekend and maybe I wouldn’t have so much to talk about. But here goes, my great inspiring weekend. Cindy and I left El Dorado around 1:00 pm on Friday, May 3rd. We went to Independence by way of that new Highway 400, south of El Dorado.
We arrived and got checked in at the Lamplighter Motel (the cheap one), then we hunted up the Riverside Zoo and Park, where we found the festival tents all set up in a great, big oval. We were in #8 and were able to set up at the very front on the left side of the entrance. We unloaded and set up Cindy’s booth titled “Meet, Gene Stratton-Porter.” We should have pictures coming when Cindy gets caught up.
The group of Historic Performers in our tent included a complete covered wagon campout; a mountain man’s home, he is also a wagon scout, a fur trapper, and his wife is a schoolteacher who travels by wagon train; Amelia Earhart; Calamity Jane; Nolan Sump as a German-American farmer, and a group representing The Santa Fe Trail Experience. Talk about being in good company, these people are such fun.
After everyone was set up we adjourned to a Mexican food place and continued to share experiences while chowing down on good food. The next morning we were ready to greet the visiting public by 10:00, all 5,100 of them on Saturday and many more than that on Sunday. Kansas was very well represented from every part of the state. If you didn’t learn about it at the festival if probably isn’t worth seeing.
Both days the ones in our tent gave 15-minute performances off and on. Cindy performed 9 different times. Surprisingly, we saw people we knew. Robert and Vickie Griffith from Madison; Teresa Bachman and the Henns from El Dorado; Barbara Booth, a Kansas Authors Club friend from Clay Center; Mary Asher from the Fort Scott’s farmers market. I talked to everyone else as if I knew them and after visiting with them awhile I felt like I did know them.
I was honored by one of the golf cart volunteers with a ride to the food vendors area for lunch on Saturday. There were 250 volunteers of all ages that pitched in wherever you needed them. They unloaded and loaded our vehicles, hunted up electrical cords, brought us drinks or ice cream and just made the whole thing run like clockwork.
Each tent had a tent boss and ours was a friend of the group called the ‘cowgirl’, but she is from Oklahoma so couldn’t have a booth. And yes, I’m ready to go again next year. I think Cindy probably will get lots of program offers. You all should have been with us! Gail”
As you can see from her description, Gail loved exploring and trying out new experiences.
Gail’s daughter, Cynthia Ross, also wrote about the festival.
“I made it through the weekend, meeting a lot of fans of Gene Stratton-Porter, plus two people that think they are related to her–which is very possible since she was the youngest of 12. Two gentlemen visited my booth after they’d seen one of my performances then made a point to hear it a second time. Many tell me they have all her books—which at one point I thought I did as well, then I found out she wrote more than just her novels.
My feet and knees hurt from wearing those old, lace-up boots for two days. One neat thing that happened, the birdman was there on the festival grounds with his display and he allowed me to hold one of the owls to get my picture taken in costume.
One lady said she wanted me to have her whole collection of Gene’s books, some signed by the author. I told her to let me know a price, although I’ll have to travel some distance to pick them up, but well worth it, that’s if she remembers to call me.
Something very special and meaningful happened before my 1st performance on Saturday—I’d gone into the tent to watch another from our group do her performance to start off the whole weekend, I sat down on one of the hay bales, then noticed a butterfly above me. That small butterfly landed on my shoulder, then flittered right across my nose. Gene loved butterflies and moths about as much as she did the birds and I take that as another sign that she is aware and approves of what I’m doing in her memory!”
Gail Martin saved not just her own memories of early days, but collected memories from her aunts and extended family as well. This is one she inspired her Aunt Bertha McGhee to write and send to ‘The Golden Years‘ magazine for East Central Kansas for Aging. She was so pleased they published this March 1994.
In 1932, when they had the WPA, I worked for a year as a caseworker in Chase County. Once I was caught in a tornado and got stuck in a ditch.
The tornado, whose funnel cloud we could see north of us, picked up a farm house and set it back down on the other side of the barn with the lady of the house inside.
She said that when things settled down she found herself under the dining room table, in shock but unhurt. Her husband was in the barn and he and the animals were all OK. Outside the trees were stripped of all their leaves till they were as bare as December
even though it was summer.
Down the road about a quarter of a mile, an old rural school building, that was being used for hay storage, was blown away and only fragments could ever be found.
The ditch where I was was an unbridged ravine that only had water when it rained. The WPA did put a cement crossing there later but not a bridge because it was a
back road that didn’t carry much traffic.
Gail Martin in the blue shirt. Her aunt, Bertha McGhee in front of her. A McGhee family reunion.
Hills in Kansas? Yes, Kansas has the rolling Flint Hills where you’ll see tall grass prairie, limestone outcroppings, and a sky that goes on forever. It’s in the south-central part of the state.
I grew up nearby, and my mother spent her childhood in the Flint Hills. We love the sweeping vistas and subtle folds of the Flint Hills area. It was always a treat to take a scenic drive through the Flint Hills and to watch for windmills, prairie fires and big thunderheads.
Photo by Virginia Allain of the Kansas Flint Hills.
Anyone who thinks Kansas is flat and featureless has never seen the Flint Hills. In Mom’s book, she talks about the thrill of seeing a prairie wildfire at night sweep across the hills.
In her collection of books, there was one of paintings of the Flint Hills. Each featured artist wrote about how the region inspired them. Artist Judy Love of Manhattan, Kansas wrote this, “The changes of light and color through the day and through the seasons transform these ancient hills into an incredible beauty that leaves me speechless.” She said that painting was her way of showing a “bit of what my heart feels.”
Here’s that book:
She loved the prairie wildflowers and taught us the names for some of them.
This one is aptly named the butterfly weed. (photo by Virginia Allain) Its official name is Asclepias tuberosa.
The hardy wildflowers of the windswept prairie can withstand drought and harsh conditions. Give them a try in your yard.
It’s hard to capture the prairie with a camera. Somehow the hills just flatten out under that big sky. As you cruise along in your car with the windows down, pull over now and then at the crest of a hill. Get out and admire the wildflowers. Listen to the sound of the meadowlark and notice the scissortail flycatcher or the hawk on the telephone wire.
Let your eyes follow the road as it forms a ribbon through the curves and folds of the land. Note the sparse trees revealing the line of a creek wending through the hills.
Savor it. The Flint Hills are a special place much loved by Kansans.
Discovering Mom 