My attempt to share stories for each letter of the alphabet featuring our life in Austin B.C. (Before Children) 1975-1985. The 70s were a long time ago. 26 stories might be a stretch for my brain, but I have made it to G – as has the Sepia Saturday prompt photo for this week.
Algiers : Rue Bab-Azoun, Early 20th Century Postcard, Getty Research Institute. (2105052)
In February of 1979, my grandmother and some of her sisters traveled to Texas from Iowa. I know this because I have two photographs to prove it. Unfortunately, I don’t have the memory to prove it. Below, we are pictured in the Senate Chamber of the Texas Capitol.
Pictured left to right are Lottie Webber Whitsel, me, my grandmother Abbie Webber Smith Brender, Hattie Webber Hutton, and the Webber sisters’ sister-in-law Irene Jenson Webber. Lottie was the driver in the group. I know this because Abbie and Irene did not drive. I’m not sure about Hattie. Lottie only started driving later in life and she enjoyed taking her sisters here and there when she could. I’ll assume this was a Saturday and that my husband was the photographer.
The Texas Capitol is a tourist attraction, but I felt comfortable roaming around because I had worked for a state senator one summer. Our somewhat faded photographs don’t do justice to our surroundings.
Capitol Rotunda
I’ve been trying to figure out the timing of when I worked for the senator. I think it must have been the summer of 1976. No photos of that, unfortunately.
We also went to the 26 Doors Shopping Center that day, as evidenced by the photo below. My husband and I enjoyed the interesting shops in this center so we shared the shopping experience and probably a meal of Mexican food with our visiting family. We are standing in front of a fountain outside the restaurant.
We are lined up in exactly the same order in this photograph as in the previous one. What’s up with that?
We are dressed in the same clothes as in the photo at the Capitol, except … Irene is wearing a black jacket instead of the red one in the previous photo.
There are a few other photos along with these in a photo album, all dated 2-1979. Were they taken the same day of other sites we showed Grandma and my aunts? If my husband came along we would have needed two cars. I just don’t remember. Nor do I know the reason for the timing of their trip. Their sister Norrine lived in Texas, so they were able to visit at least two sets of family.
The prompt photo shows a few women, children, and men in an open space between buildings. This photo, taken January 21, 2017, shows tens of thousands of women, men, and children in open spaces outside the Texas Capitol. Many of the women have their heads covered in pink hats. I am somewhere in that crowd.
This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday. Please put on your touring or marching shoes and visit other participants: Sepia Saturday.
Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. If you want to play along, sign up to the link, try to visit as many of the other participants as possible, and havefun.
My attempt to share stories for each letter of the alphabet featuring our life in Austin B.C. (Before Children) 1975-1985. The 70s were a long time ago. 26 stories might be a stretch for my brain, but I have made it to E – as has the Sepia Saturday prompt photo for this week.
A man, standing alone. Hand in his coat pocket. Looking to the side. At what? For whom? Not a nice guy according to the notes below the photo. “E” for Executed.
The man in the prompt photo reminds me of a man I saw standing alone in front of the open door of our apartment. He wasn’t a nice guy either. I have no photos to confirm his presence there, only the dim image stored in my memory.
One evening before sunset, my husband and I returned home from an errand and pulled into a parking space right in front of our apartment. To our great surprise, a young man was standing in the threshold with the door open behind him. Just standing there. Not moving. Not holding anything. Just casually standing and looking out into the parking lot.
We immediately backed out and went to a pay phone at a nearby convenience store to call the police, then drove back to the apartment complex to wait. By the time we got there, no one was standing in the doorway and the door was closed.
We reported what we had seen to the police and they entered the apartment. No one there. Some things out of place. Our television gone.
I told the police who did it. I recognized the guy. He lived in the complex behind us in an apartment on the second floor. I had the perfect view of his apartment from the window over our kitchen sink and the sliding glass door to the patio. I had seen him several times on the landing outside his door, smoking or just standing out there. I was sure it was him.
Unfortunately, the police said there was nothing they could do. We had seen him in front of the open door. On the threshold. His body was not inside the apartment when we saw him.
The Texas Penal Code defines entry as the “intrusion of the entire body”.
Something had nudged us to mark the more expensive items we owned, including the TV, with a driver license number in case they were stolen. If our TV turned up, the police would return it to us.
The days and weeks after the burglary brought a new kind of emotion that I had not experienced before. Violation. I felt violated. When I opened a drawer, I was angry and gutted to know that he had gone through our things. My things. Personal things. And he had taken from us.
As it turns out, we got our television back. A couple of weeks later, the police arrested a “fence” who lived in our apartment complex. Of course he did! They found a lot of stolen televisions and stereo equipment in his apartment. But this did not lead to the arrest of our burglar.
One day sometime later, a commotion caught my eye through one of the windows. Police officers were at the thief’s door. I watched as police led the thief down the stairs. He was busted for drugs, not burglary. It felt like some vindication.
This is the third memory I have written about living in this apartment. Bats. A clown. A thief. I have at least one more to share. The newspaper ad wasn’t lying.
I’m finding that we just don’t have a lot of photos from this time in our life. These days, we pull out our cell phones to document almost everything. And so I offer this photo from the 1948 Italian film Bicycle Thieves.
Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. If you want to play along, sign up to the link, try to visit as many of the other participants as possible, and havefun.
Please visit other Sepia Saturday bloggers here: Sepia Saturday
An Austin story B.C. (Before Children), sometime between 1975-1985. A series of stories for each letter of the alphabet. The 70s were a long time ago. 26 stories might be a stretch for my brain, but I have made it to D – as has the prompt photo for this week.
As there is a band in the prompt photo, I’ll begin with a song written and performed by Joe Ely and band.
Down on the drag, down on the drag Where some lowdown son-of-a-bum Done stole my sleepin’ bag Left me standin at a news stand Readin’ want ads in The Rag My baby’s back up in Lubbock And I’m down on the drag
Well the sooner I get to Houston The sooner I’ll catch me a boat I’m gonna cross that Gulf of Mexico I’m takin’ anything that will float I been
Down on the drag, down on the drag Where some lowdown son-of-a-bum Even stole my sleepin’ bag Left me standin at the news stand Readin’ want ads in The Rag My baby’s back up in Lubbock And I’m down on the drag
Well the sooner I leave this town behind The sooner i’ll get control Of all my crazy dreams and my hard-losin’ schemes My heart, body, mind and soul I been
Down on the drag, down on the drag Where some lowdown son-of-a-bum Even stole my sleepin’ bag Left me standin at the news stand Readin’ want ads in The Rag My baby’s back up in Lubbock And I’m down on the drag
If you don’t believe my story I ain’t gonna tell you no more And if you ever expect to see me anymore I’ll be sleepin down in some doorway
Guadalupe Street (mispronounced locally as gwad-a-loop) runs along the west side of the University of Texas campus. On the side opposite of campus are restaurants, the University Co-op Bookstore, and an assortment of businesses that cater primarily to the student population.
This newspaper photo shows a very crowded Guadalupe St. when UT students returned for the spring semester in January 1978. The inside of the UT Co-op Bookstore was probably just as crowded.
The Austin American Statesman 1978 Jan 18
The sidewalk along the Drag was not always that packed with people. The photos below better reflect my memories. The song references The Rag, an underground newspaper founded in 1966. Until today, I didn’t realize that The Rag still exists – as a blog. Some of the artful covers are on Flickr.
Byron Mason selling copies of the Rag. Photo by Alan Pogue Accessed from Facebook
This photo especially evokes the feel of the Drag in the late 70s. Buskers. Street food. Flower sellers. Someone sitting on the sidewalk selling something – often puppies in a cardboard box. Sometimes a couple just sitting there, backs against a wall and, not-so-uncommonly, a woman going topless. This woman is selling a kit to test marijuana for an herbicide.
Austin American-Statesman 1978 Apr 04
The food cart in the photo above looks like an egg roll cart that was the available street food at that time – before the proliferation of food trucks we have now. I had a few egg rolls during grad school, but my husband never trusted that his gut would be happy, so he did not. The photo below is Saigon Eggrolls. The photo above may be the competing egg roll stand.
Saigon Eggrolls. Accessed from Facebook
It was fun to stop into the stores along the street. One of my favorites was The Cadeau. It was filled with a wonderful mix of clothes and gifts and home items that no one else was selling.
Cadeau sign. Accessed from Facebook.
Sometimes there was a loud street preacher. Sometimes Hare Krishna. Always an interesting mix of people who mostly shared the space congenially. Frats and freaks and more. And, as the song implies, some who slept in doorways and alleys.
My husband and I often did some people watching and shopping on Saturday afternoons. Some of our favorite stops were on side streets adjoining Guadalupe. I think I’ll save them for another post.
One of the frequent buskers on the Drag was not a musician, but a mime. We enjoyed watching him perform and my husband took this photo of him. I am embarrassed to say that I don’t remember giving money to anyone performing on the street. Although we we didn’t have a lot of extra cash at the time. But still.
Does the mime in the photo look familiar to you?
Does the name Turk Pipkin ring a bell?
Mr. Pipkin went from street mime/juggler/clown/magician to actor/writer/philanthropist.
Harry Anderson at Eeyore’s Birthday Party ~1978
Turk Pipkin wrote this about himself in an article for Texas Monthly magazine. I went to Austin to go to the University of Texas but ended up performing on the drag and at beer-soaked clubs like Castle Creek and The Armadillo world headquarters. At The Armadillo, I met my best friend, Harry Anderson, the actor and magician. Harry was the one who got me out to Los Angeles.
He also wrote this piece about his friendship with Harry Anderson and their early careers for The Austin Chronicle in 1999.
Somehow we completely missed Harry Anderson …
Turk Pipkin still lives in Austin. He has written a number of books, acted in numerous films and television shows (I never watched The Sopranos, but he had a recurring role), among other accomplishments. A recent enterprise is The Nobelity Project. The project began when he interviewed nine Nobel Peace Prize winners and turned the interviews into a documentary in 2006. That experience became something much larger than a documentary film. From the Nobelity Project website:
The Nobelity Project focuses on educational and environmental progress in East Africa, Latin America and at home in Central Texas.
Our vision is simple: every child has the right to a quality education.
Our mission is direct: we bridge gaps in education so each child has a ladder to success in school and in life.
Our commitment to you is clear: your support is used in the best possible way to build a brighter future for 15,000 children every year.
Although much of the work of The Nobelity Project has been in Africa, there have been a number of projects in the United States, including helping to bring back the trees lost in the fires at Bastrop State Park in Texas in 2012.
I enjoyed this short video made in 2015 to celebrate ten years of The Nobelity Project.
Not bad for a street mime.
This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday. Please drag yourself over to Sepia Saturday and enjoy what others have prepared.
Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. If you want to play along, sign up to the link, try to visit as many of the other participants as possible, and havefun.
