Early tornado shelters known as ‘storm caves’
Tornado season is upon us, and already we’ve had two bouts with them, resulting in deaths, injuries and destruction.
Weather experts tell us to take cover in our “storm caves” when a dark cloud appears on the horizon.
Storm cave is a term for tornado shelters that has been used every decade from 1901 to 2008 in The Oklahoman.
Not being familiar with storm caves, I have heard the tornado shelter called a cellar, a storm cellar, a storm shelter, a fallout shelter and, of course, my favorite, the “‘fraidy hole.”
Storm caves were most often mentioned in The Oklahoman’s classifieds as a selling point for houses and land, but this editorial published June 3, 1947, gives some history.
“Some years ago when the pioneers were moving out into the prairie country in quest of permanent homes many of them (a great many of them) were careful to dig storm caves even before they began to build their houses.
“One reason was there was abundant space for cave digging and the only cost entailed was the labor of the digger, while the material required for house building was back on the nearest railway, some times several days’ journey away. Many of the pioneers lived in their primitive dugouts for several years.
“But there was another reason for that pioneer day digging-in operation. The first settlers were well aware of the possibility of an unexpected visit from a spiraling storm cloud.
“So they prepared what the cowboys in their vernacular called their ‘fraid holes,’ both as a place of temporary residence and as a safe harbor if a tornado should appear on the scene. And unquestionably many a pioneer survived to a ripe old age who might have been blown into the next county if it had not been for some convenient hole in the ground.
“Civilization conquered the prairie country some years ago. Handsome homes have taken the place of the old sod house and storm cave.
“Cities and towns now mark the plains country with their elevators and churches and schools and business blocks.
“Long familiarity with the possibility of the tornado’s visit has rendered a lot of people indifferent to the danger.
“But in spite of progress and in spite of change of outlook a good, safe storm cave is not even yet a useless possession. It is a means of safety to many times 10,000 people.
“Considering the reasonableness of their cost and their priceless value in the day of crisis it is almost strange that every home on the plains and every school house is not equipped with a good storm cave.
” It may be needed no more than once in a lifetime, but when it is needed, it is needed terribly.”
So, when the Oklahoma winds blow strong and the warnings become incessant, listen to the experts and go to your safe place, be it a tornado shelter or storm cave or, in my case, the bathtub or an interior hallway, away from all windows.
Oklahoma woman saw stock rise after Titanic sank
News from the Titanic disaster dominated newspaper pages 100 years ago.
State headlines told of ships returning with bodies from the Titanic, U.S. hearings on the accident and news stories of the deadly tornadoes that struck five western counties, leaving 15 dead and at least 39 injured.
The following article from The Oklahoman of April 29, 1912, introduces Mrs. Fannie Dubois and gives her story of how the sinking of the ocean liner, Titanic affected her life.
“LOCAL LADY WINS IN WIRELESS BUY
“When Marconi Stock Soars She Sells Hers at Fancy Margin of Profit”
“As the result of the Titanic disaster and the decision of the English courts in favor of the Marconi patent for wireless, Mrs. Fannie Dubois, 1305 North Shartel Boulevard, has sold twenty-four shares of Marconi stock, which cost her $100 per share eight years ago, for $220 per share making her a snug little profit of more than one hundred percent.
“It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good and the late horrible Titanic disaster was no exception to the rule. That accident which cast a gloom over the whole civilized world, also caused attention to be called to the workings of the wireless telegrapher, for had it not been for the distress call sent out by the Titanic’s hero of the wireless, many more would have found their graves in icebound waters with the magnificent ocean giant that is now only a sad memory.
“Just about that time the courts of England sustained the Marconi patents for wireless and it is expected that the United State courts will follow their example. As Marconi was the first with his invention, every other wireless company is infringing, to some extent or other, on his patent and the United Wireless even now is attempting to gain control of the Marconi company.”
Fannie Dubois was born in Belgium, immigrated to the United States at age 19 and moved to Oklahoma in 1909. The 1912 city directory lists her as proprietor of the Marquette Hotel.
In 1904, Mrs. Dubois bought 24 shares in the Marconi company. She held onto her shares even after the value dipped to about $28 a share and no dividends had been paid.
Little did she know that a Marconi wireless was installed on the Titanic and was responsible for sending the messages requesting help as the ship sank.
With the sinking of the Titanic and rumors that all ships would be required to install several wireless operators, Marconi stock suddenly became valuable.
Almost immediately, brokers began sending Mrs. Dubois telegrams with offers for her stock. She held out until the price reached $220 a share, and she sold for a total of $5,280. In today’s currency, the value of her shares would be about $13,200.
Not a bad return at all.
Church begins countdown to opening of its ‘century chest’
The countdown has started. Next year will be one of anticipation for the First Lutheran Church of Oklahoma City, 1300 N Robinson.
A century chest was buried in the church basement on April 22, 1913. The Oklahoma City mayor, governor and other dignitaries were in attendance when the time capsule was sealed.
The church now has devoted a Web page to the century chest at firstlutheranokc.org/site/ks/editorial.asp?page=2 and it includes a countdown clock.
Next year, on April 22, church members and other dignitaries will gather to open the century chest, which is not an ordinary time capsule. It contains a treasure trove of items that will fill a future column on their own.
Today, I want to introduce the young woman who was credited with “perfecting the plans for the chest” — Mrs. George G. Sohlberg, president of the church’s Ladies’ Aid Society.
Virginia Bland Tucker was born and raised in Missouri. After frequently visiting local relatives, she and her mother settled in Oklahoma City in 1890, two years after the Land Run.
She taught school until 1898, when she met and married George G. Sohlberg, founder and president of the Acme Milling Co. and civic leader.
In 1966, Joan Gilmore, Women’s Editor of The Oklahoman wrote of Mrs. Sohlberg in conjunction with an Oklahoma Art Center Gala:
“At the time of her death in 1913, Mrs. Sohlberg was headlined in The Daily Oklahoman as ‘Active in Society’ and was esteemed ‘One Of City’s Most Queenly Women.’ ” The article about her describes her as “one of the best and most beautiful women … one of the gentlest, the most cultivated members of society; her influence has been widely felt.”
Another article said, ” … Never has she failed; as mother, wife, daughter and friend, she has always lived up to the noblest ideals of life. …
“She was brilliant and talented. … was a leader, not only in social circles where her hospitable home was the center of pleasure and enjoyment, but equally as much so in church, literary and charitable circles.”
Mrs. Sohlberg was almost single-handedly responsible for preparing the century chest, which was buried under the First Lutheran Church, commemorating the 24th anniversary of the opening of Oklahoma City. She gathered relics of value and simple annals from hundreds of people and scores of organizations in Oklahoma City and the state, which were buried in the chest.
Virginia Sohlberg died Aug. 10, 1913, of heart failure at 40 years old, less than four months after the chest was buried.
When the chest is opened on April 22, 2013, in celebration of the 124th anniversary of the Oklahoma Land Run, Virginia Sohlberg should be remembered and her work preserved so future generations can reflect on it.
Alpacas then and now
It wasn’t that long ago that alpacas were an endangered species, at least in the United States.
In 1964, there were only 9 alpacas in the United States, and the Lincoln Park Zoo, now the Oklahoma City Zoo, was able to acquire one of those on permanent loan.
His name was Manco, and, according to a story in The Oklahoman announcing his arrival, the zoo’s director, Warren Thomas, hoped to selectively breed the alpaca with its larger cousin, the llama. His intent was to cross breed until the offspring were mostly alpaca and protect the animal from extinction in the United States.
No information exists on how successful Thomas was, but his preservation plan was no longer needed because in 1984, a 1940′s importation ban to protect against hoof and mouth disease was lifted.
Between 1984 and 1996, importations of alpacas were allowed from South America, until the Alpaca Registry closed the registration books to only American bred animals.
Margie Ray of Ray Farms, considered the founder of alpaca breeding in Oklahoma, acquired 3 imported alpacas in 1986.
There are now more than 170,000 alpacas in the United States, and, in 2009, there were more than 80 farms in Oklahoma.
Alpacas are raised for their hair or fiber. They come in 22 colors and two types: suri, which has long silky hair, and huacaya, which has soft fluffy hair.
Once a year, usually in spring after the show season, the animals are sheared to make them more comfortable during the summer heat and the fiber is processed for various uses, such as roving for spinners, thread for weavers, and yarn for those who knit and crochet, rugs, jewelry and more.
The Alpacas of Oklahoma, A-OK, are having their annual show Easter weekend, April 7 and 8, at Shawnee’s Heart of Oklahoma Exposition Center, 30 miles east of Oklahoma City and easily accessible from Interstate 40.
The alpacas are shown at halter, obstacle, public relation, junior exhibitor and showmanship. Costume classes also are presented.
The show is free to the public and offers an opportunity to meet alpacas and their owners and to buy alpaca fiber, yarn, jewelry and other alpaca related items. You might even buy an alpaca or two.
Real babies were used in classes at colleges
Here’s a story that The Oklahoman published Christmas Day 1921 that illustrates the change of thought in home economic education and baby care. In this case, a baby boy who had had a tough start in life was given the chance of a happy future.
“David, the orphan baby who was ‘adopted’ by Oklahoma A. and M. College in order to complete the ‘equipment’ of the school of home economics homemakers’ cottage, will spend his first Christmas in a home of his own.
When students left Friday, for the Christmas holidays, David was among those on out-going trains; he was to be formally adopted Saturday, into the home of a wealthy Oklahoma oil man. A younger baby will take his place in the home-makers’ cottage.”
David was 11 weeks old when he arrived at school, the orphan child of an abandoned mother who died ten 10 days after his birth. He first went into the care of the Oklahoma Children’s Home society until the college, the predecessor of Oklahoma State University, came up with the idea of borrowing a real baby for “the practice house, in order that girl students might gain practical knowledge in the feeding and care of babies.”
The idea worked in David’s favor.
“The publicity that David got at the time brought scores of letters from interested persons; the scientific care assured for the child made him attractive to babyless homes; more than a dozen definite offers were made for his adoption.
“Four groups of girls, eighteen in all, have lived in the homemakers’ cottage during the school year thus far, helping in the care of David. As a Christmas gift, when he left, they gave him a silver loving cup on whose side was inscribed, “David, Oklahoma A.& M.”
Oklahoma A&M continued the program the next school year with David II.
No other information was found about David I or David II with the exception that David II was being groomed for the 1922 State Fair baby contest. In the 1920s, the baby contest was more of how the baby was growing and meeting standards and less of a beauty contest. David II did not win.
An Internet search found that college use of “practice babies” was not unusual. In fact, Cornell University in Ithaca, N.Y., had a practice baby program from 1919-1969. The school stopped the program after concerns about what was best for the babies and changes that made the homemaking cottage outdated.
St. Patrick’s traditions live on
One hundred years ago, the week before St. Patrick’s Day was not all that different from 2012.
The newspaper carried advertisements for green carnations for a dollar a dozen, the stationery store offered St. Patrick’s Day postcards and the society page offered a break from Lenten abstinence with Irish-themed parties.
Oklahoma’s March weather was as changeable as ever, starting out the week with rain, proceeding to fair and colder, then more rain and winding up with a beautiful spring day with temperatures in the high 60s and a light breeze.
Political rhetoric was at full pitch for 1912, as it was also a presidential election year.
The candidates fiercely campaigning were incumbent Republican President William Howard Taft; Theodore Roosevelt, leader of his own Bull Moose Party; Socialist Eugene V. Debs; and the final winner, Democrat Woodrow Wilson.
On Monday, the day after St. Patrick’s Day in 1912, The Oklahoman offered this description of the day:
“The weatherman appointed a beautiful spring setting for St. Patrick’s day and while there were no parades or formal meetings in Oklahoma to celebrate the occasion, there were thousands of pretty shamrock leaves worn by the Irish of Oklahoma City and those with the blood of the Emerald Isle in their veins.
Appropriate references were made to the day and its significance in song and sermon at the church services, while at the Catholic services the usual religious forms of worship appropriate to the event were rendered.
It was a still day, full of beauty and sunshine, the first distinctly spring day of the season and the out-of-door world was particularly inviting. In the afternoon there came upon the streets the biggest crowd since the Christmas holidays, a great portion of whom were ladies and the spring hats and dresses were very much in evidence.”
Oklahoma City will be having its annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade on Saturday at 1 p.m., or you can join the Bricktown Block Party for a breakfast of green eggs and ham and stay until midnight enjoying food, green beer and some great Irish entertainment.
Come and celebrate the Irish in you.
Speed-dating isn’t a new as some people may think
Speed-dating is a phenomenon that, according to harvardmagazine.com, first came on the scene in 1999 in California.
A group of single men and women would meet, pair off and, for about 3 to 8 minutes, chat and get to know each other. Then, a signal would sound and the pair would change and start all over again with a new partner.
If a participant were lucky, perhaps he or she might find true love.
1999?!
In California?!
This excerpt from an April 19, 1964, The Oklahoman article by Helen Ford, still writing today for the newspaper as Helen Ford Wallace, sets the record straight.
In early-day Oklahoma, around the time of the Land Run in 1889, when young men wanted to meet young ladies, this is one of the ways it was accomplished:
“Visiting back and forth was the primary way of socializing in the town and country in those days and the main way for a boy to meet a girl. Socials came into the scene.
“A young man would ask a settler’s wife if a social might be held in her home and having secured her permission, after earnest urging, he would deliver verbal invitations to everybody. One of the favorite entertainments of these groups was the ‘set-to.’ Seats were arranged around the wall and as the young people assembled, the hostess seated them in couples. After a man had talked to a girl for 10 or 15 minutes, it was the hostess’ duty to bring up another man, take the first one away and give his place to the newcomer.
“The other man would then be seated by some other girl and so they were all shifted around until every man had been introduced to every girl and had talked with her for a few minutes. Many romances blossomed after those few minutes.”
Church ladies decided to build “sooner” than later
Long before Midwest City and Del City were incorporated, the pioneers that laid claim to the area in the Run of ’89 and homesteaded their land created a community named Sooner.
Its center was at the intersection of Sooner Road and SE 15.
From an Aug. 24, 1955, Oklahoma City Times story, writer Mary Goddard gives this description:
“They built a little frame room, called Bowden chapel, on a (northwest) corner diagonally across the intersection from the present church. It was finished in time for the neighborhood Christmas program in December, 1889.
“The first few school terms were held there, too, until the territorial government could get Sooner school started across the road. Folks still remember the first schoolteacher, Charley Kirk, who suffered frostbitten feet while teaching in the chilly little chapel.
“That chapel gave the whole community its name. The story goes this way. Several “sooners” actually had pre-empted land before the ’89 opening, and feeling ran high about property rights.
“One night, a cowboy, possibly fired up by hard liquor, reeled by on his horse and scrawled the word “Sooner” across the chapel front. The name has stuck ever since.”
By 1906, the Sooner community had their school across the street from the chapel and in fact, the churchgoing folk were using the school for worship.
Sixteen women decided the community needed a new church building, so, to finance it, they organized a Ladies Aid Society.
After nine years of pie suppers and quilt sales, the group raised $2,000, and with a few donations and free labor provided by husbands and sons, in July of 1915, Sooner Community Church was ready for dedication.
The Times story said: “Their awed menfolk decided the women had earned full ownership, so the church was and still is — official property of the incorporated Ladies Aid.”
That one-story church with a basement stood on the southeast corner of the intersection until it burned in April of 1970. Still owned by the Union Ladies Aid Society of Sooner, it had served many startup congregations, as the first office for the Tinker YMCA, and had still been in use several months before the fire.
Because the church land was bound by a covenant that restricted its use to religious or educational purposes, the Ladies Aid, many daughters or granddaughters of the original members, decided to sell the land, and the money was used to establish the first scholarship fund at Oscar Rose Junior College, now Rose State College. This scholarship is available to help students purchase textbooks.
The early pioneers might not recognize the intersection now. The school, now Sooner-Rose Elementary School, is still on the northeast corner, but across Sooner Road on the west is now a gas station and strip mall. And where Sooner Community Church once stood, there is now a small shopping center with a Home Depot behind it. Across the street is a Walmart.
My, how times have changed.
Tiffany glass angel has graced Fairlawn Cemetery for 87 years
Standing at the entrance to Fairlawn Cemetery at 2700 N Shartel, it is difficult to imagine a cornfield where marble and granite stones now stand.
A story from The Oklahoman dated Sept. 25, 1921, describes the cornfield “filled with scrawny and withered stalks usually bending toward the north, for the wind blew continuously from the south.”
Fairlawn Cemetery Association bought that cornfield in 1892 and began the cemetery that is still there today.
The weather had been hot and dry, and, for a while, the cornstalks served as guides to the cemetery and temporary grave markers.
By 1924, Fairlawn Cemetery was well-established, and the trustees of the Fairlawn Cemetery Association were ready to improve the premises by building a mausoleum to provide aboveground resting places.
The mausoleum was finished in 1925, and the citizens of Oklahoma City were invited to Sunday open houses in October.
It is a concrete building covered inside and out with fine marble and bronze, and it has kept the promises made in newspaper advertisements of being a safe and sanitary resting place for loved ones for more than 80 years.
Simplicity is the design: Two wings are on either side of a small chapel area with aisles dividing the wall crypts, and, near the entrance, are a few special “family rooms,” some with bronze doors or gates and often personally decorated with stained-glass windows and pedestals for flowers or memorabilia.
The lower level is almost a mirror image of the main floor with “special rooms,” crypts, a chapel area and a caretaker’s room.
The chapel on the main level has a beautiful stained-glass window of an angel. The trustees spared no expense and bought an art glass window from the Tiffany Studios of Louis Comfort Tiffany for $5,000 in 1925.
The angel, which is titled “The Spirit Shall Return Unto God Who Gave It,” appears to be hovering midair among the clouds gazing upward.
She made her debut in October 1925, and, while she still shines brightly, our angel has kept a very low profile.
She bears the signature of Louis Comfort Tiffany and is constructed in the Tiffany style.
Louis Comfort Tiffany was famous for stained-glass windows that featured his handmade glass called drapery glass and brilliant colors of glass created in his glass furnaces.
Looking almost like actual cloth, drapery glass adds a three-dimensional quality to the angel’s gown.
He also liked to layer glass, which allowed more interest to the picture than just flat glass.
When you look at our angel, she is surrounded by the moon and stars, but it’s as if they are floating behind her, peeking through the clouds.
For almost 87 years, she has graced our city and brightened the solemn resting place of many of Oklahoma City’s pioneers.
Medal of Honor winner gave ultimate sacrifice
In 1904, following a mine explosion in Pennsylvania that killed 181 men, including two rescuers, Pittsburgh steel magnate and philanthropist, Andrew Carnegie, created the Carnegie Hero Fund commission to recognize “acts of civilian heroism.”
According to the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission’s Website, 96 Oklahomans have received the Carnegie Medal of Honor as of December 2011.
Tom Ball was not the first person from Oklahoma to receive the Carnegie Medal of Honor, but he distinguished himself by giving the ultimate sacrifice.
The page one story from the Dec. 20, 1921 edition of The Oklahoman describes the accident:
“Tom Ball, 45 years old, unmarried, in whose heart the love for little children is stronger than his own desire for life, with left foot severed and hip mangled, is twisting in agony on a bed at a Wichita hospital facing death. The child whom he saved, all unknowing of the sacrifices made that it might live, prattled out of the scene and is unknown. Ball, whose 90-year-old father lives at Harper, Kan., was talking with his father a few minutes before the accident occurred. A flaxen-haired tot playing by the railway gleefully ran upon the track. The freight train started to back up. Ball leaped between the rails, tossed the child gently to safety, but failed to rescue himself. The caboose of his own train ran over him before the engineer halted the train. Ball lost one foot, his hips were crushed and he was injured internally. Physicians say that he probably will not live. A special train was run by the Orient road to Wichita in an effort to save Ball’s life.”
The accident happened in Harper, Kan., but Ball had lived in Fairview for 14 years and was known in every town on his run between Fairview and Harper, Kan.
The superintendent of the Kansas City, Mexico and Orient Railroad began a movement, supported by the towns along Tom Ball’s route, to secure a Carnegie medal for his act of heroism and on April 30, 1922, The Oklahoman announced Ball’s selection for the honor.
“Thus reads the prosaic record of one of the most heroic deeds in the history of the railway service, for Tom Ball, whose home was at Fairview, gave up his life to save the life of a little child. The little boy was Carl E. Yoder, 5 years old. He was unhurt, but Ball was caught by the wheels of the car and fatally injured. He died a few hours later at Wichita, Kan., where he was rushed on a special train. The medal awarded by the Carnegie Hero Fund commission has been sent to his aged parents, Mr. and Mrs. M.C. Ball at Harper.”
An online search of federal census records and the Social Security Death Index, finds that Carl E. Yoder lived another 80 years after that fateful day.
