In the 1700s, near this site on Farm Road 210 just north of Megargel, French tradesmen brought goods to the Native Americans. Spanish explorer Jose Mares discovered evidence of the trading in 1787 while he hiked through there, jotting down a map for a new road. Later, the US Army camped near here while they sought a good ground for a new Indian Reservation. In the mid-1800s, the US Army escorted a Comanche exodus to Oklahoma. Outside Megargel stands a lonesome barn, seemingly abandoned by its owner.
Most of Megargel seemed abandoned today. The town, founded in 1910, flourished with a railroad, the Texas & Western, and then with the oil boom of the 20s. Times became tough for the people of Megargel during the Great Depression.
Facade of the Megargel High School, 1927.
Just off the highway towards Olney stands another abandoned building.
In contrast, a couple of eateries along the highway toward Seymour looked jolly, or maybe I demanded from myself that I perceive them jolly, for Megargel is a lonesome looking town.
Photographic and poetic meanderings along the countryside or while flying an airplane.
Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E B Hawley.
I had become many eons ago a traveling literary gnome, inquisitive about places I had and had not visited,
walking the same paths of peoples from the past, through places once grand and still grand,
photographing images that now show me the places about which I still dream . . .
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Archer County Heritage
A stone marker (circa 1878) indicates to travelers from Decatur that they have sixteen miles more of territory to cover before arriving in Archer City. Beginning approximately in the year 1849, people traveled along this route from Fort Smith, Arkansas, to California. The Royal Theatre in downtown Archer City still holds shows. Stop by one evening.
View from behind the old jail house in Archer City, now the Archer County Museum. The building served as a jail from 1910 to 1974. The American Legion maintained the building until they gave it to the city.
Eryops lizard from the Permian found in Archer County by Jack Loftin, curator of the Archer County Museum.
The first oil well drilled in Archer County became the longest producing well in Texas. For sixty-nine years, from 1911 to 1980, it pumped oil from a shallow production zone. (Miller-Andrews No. 1 Oil Well)
Spudder driller from 1946. The rotary driller replaced the spudder.
Detail on the 1946 spudder.
Tractor sitting behind the Archer County Museum.
Printing press.
The V-bar brand from the Taylor Ranches. At any one time, Taylor owned several thousand head of cattle.
Upstairs in the museum, the bars of the jail remain in place.
Mary Ann told us that the drunk tank door had the shiniest door handle and the fewest squeaks when opened. The first inmate in the jail house was a horse thief. The jail had a gallows, fortunately never used, for in 1911 Texas passed a law against hanging.
An old clock.
Looking outside one of the windows of the third floor, I glimpsed our motorcycles.
Next stop? We headed around Lake Arrowhead and then had tacos at La Michoacana.
View from behind the old jail house in Archer City, now the Archer County Museum. The building served as a jail from 1910 to 1974. The American Legion maintained the building until they gave it to the city.
Eryops lizard from the Permian found in Archer County by Jack Loftin, curator of the Archer County Museum.
The first oil well drilled in Archer County became the longest producing well in Texas. For sixty-nine years, from 1911 to 1980, it pumped oil from a shallow production zone. (Miller-Andrews No. 1 Oil Well)
Spudder driller from 1946. The rotary driller replaced the spudder.
Detail on the 1946 spudder.
Tractor sitting behind the Archer County Museum.
Printing press.
The V-bar brand from the Taylor Ranches. At any one time, Taylor owned several thousand head of cattle.
Upstairs in the museum, the bars of the jail remain in place.
Mary Ann told us that the drunk tank door had the shiniest door handle and the fewest squeaks when opened. The first inmate in the jail house was a horse thief. The jail had a gallows, fortunately never used, for in 1911 Texas passed a law against hanging.
An old clock.
Looking outside one of the windows of the third floor, I glimpsed our motorcycles.
Next stop? We headed around Lake Arrowhead and then had tacos at La Michoacana.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Already My Fave Renovated Shop
Monday, August 31, 2009
Hermann Painted Noros' Mug
Along Route 1816
Fellow motorcycle enthusiasts also enjoy a cool August afternoon.Male turkeys along Highway 367.A characteristic view of the country roads I saw yesterday, and on the right, the empty oil cans used as communication devices between pumpers and gaugers in use until a couple of decades ago.
Up close look at the cans.
Set of communication devices near Swanson Ranch Road.
Brightly painted yellow cans along 367.
Up close look at the cans.
Set of communication devices near Swanson Ranch Road.
Brightly painted yellow cans along 367.
In Windthorst
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Jaguar Jaunt in the Morning
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Hermann in the Lens Again
Catherine remembers posing for Emil Hermann in 1937. She doesn't remember the background so thinks he filled it in later. I climbed into her attic to find this painting. JoAnn encouraged her to bring downstairs to display it. CC wishes to remain anonymous, and so JoAnn may not say in her book that this is a portrait of his little sister painted by Hermann.
Skip owns the painting below, which struck me at first as unusual in that the tree is in the middle of the canvas, and that, it is effective anyway.
The J Hirschi portrait presented problems for me because of the lighting. JoAnn carried it outside in the natural light, and held it for me as she held her breath, standing as perfectly still as she could while I took the image. Some post processing in the digital darkroom revealed a little bit of the color and hid some slight damage.
Skip also owns the landscape showing autumn on the shore of a lake. Perhaps he kept in mind autumn in Ohio while he painted this landscape.
JoAnn recently purchased the landscape below, which I've taken to call "Sheep May Safely Graze."
Skip owns the painting below, which struck me at first as unusual in that the tree is in the middle of the canvas, and that, it is effective anyway.
The J Hirschi portrait presented problems for me because of the lighting. JoAnn carried it outside in the natural light, and held it for me as she held her breath, standing as perfectly still as she could while I took the image. Some post processing in the digital darkroom revealed a little bit of the color and hid some slight damage.
Skip also owns the landscape showing autumn on the shore of a lake. Perhaps he kept in mind autumn in Ohio while he painted this landscape.
JoAnn recently purchased the landscape below, which I've taken to call "Sheep May Safely Graze."
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Ambling Before Sunset
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Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin
JMHawley Gave Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.