MADE IN OKLAHOMA: OKLAHOMA MATTRESS CO.

The Oklahoman – Wednesday, July 8, 2009

CUSTOMIZED PRODUCTS MAKE IT A ‘DESTINATION’

When interior decorator Steve Callahan was tasked with outfitting upscale condominiums at The Centennial in Lower Bricktown, he went to the only business in town that creates cotton-tufted mattresses by hand.

Owner Jim Hunter boasts he’s not just the only guy creating beds such as the ones used a century ago. He insists he’s one of the few shops creating custom-made hand-tufted cotton mattresses anywhere.

“I’m really proud of what we do, and I think it’s really great when people realize there is something else out there,” Hunter said. “They don’t have to choose a store-bought mattress. People get scared at the word ‘custom,’ but when they come in and see what we do and our prices, they laugh. It’s often less than what you find elsewhere.”

Things don’t change much at Oklahoma Mattress Co. Charlotte Guerin still answers the phones, as she has for 30 years. The storefront has been home to the business since World War II (the original owners first opened shop at Ollie and NW 6).

The business was started by W.C. McKinney, and for a while, it sold furniture and mattresses, Hunter said. Hunter’s cousin bought it from the founders, and Hunter came by needing a job in 1973.

“I had just gotten out of high school … I got married very young – at 18 – and I needed to work and go to school,” Hunter said.

Six years later, Hunter bought the business and survived the economic turmoil of the 1980s and the blight that threatened to overtake the south side of the MidTown area. Now he’s surrounded by redevelopment.

Just this week, he spent an hour working with a young couple shopping for a mattress after helping a lady from Texas pick up a bed to haul back to her home. He fields orders for custom-made mattresses for boats, trailers, hospitals and hotels across the country.

“I’m a destination place,” Hunter said. “Somebody goes to Mathis Brothers. They own Lady Americana. They own the franchise. But if somebody goes there and says they need an odd size to fit their motor home, guess where they’re told to go? Serta does the same thing. I’m the guy.”

- Steve Lackmeyer

Kenyon Morgan was a graduate architecture student at the University of Oklahoma in 1973 when he began working with Sam Bowman at the Neighborhood Services Organization to assemble a plan for the Riverside Neighborhood Association.

As part of that plan, and in preparing a proposal for Mesta Park, Morgan became interested in how the city was using money from the federal 312 loan program. It was then he learned about the city’s plans to tear down dozens of buildings to make way for what civic leaders hoped would be a downtown “Galleria” shopping mall.

The mall was part of an ambitious downtown urban renewal plan developed by architect I.M. Pei.

The clearance plan required demolition of the Warner Theater, the Midwest Theater, Beverly’s restaurant, the Globe Life Insurance headquarters, the YWCA, Local Federal Bank, John A. Brown’s Department Store, and the heart of downtown’s Main Street retail corridor.

Morgan surveyed the targeted area, capturing images of the buildings on Kodachrome film just months before their demise. Morgan attended a city council meeting to share his photos and concerns. He recalls being told by Ward 8 City Councilman Merle McCollum that his effort was in vain, adding “young man, you’re delaying progress.”

The images Morgan hoped would sway the city in its plans serve as a reminder of what was lost when leaders attempted to implement the Pei Plan.

Morgan was not alone in voicing concerns about the continued implementation of the Pei Plan. But such protests failed to sway city leaders who continued with the demolition of hundreds of downtown structures through the late 1970s. The site for the mall was cleared by 1978. Two office towers were built on the northeast corner of the project area. Efforts to develop the mall continued, unsuccessfully, through the late 1980s at which time the plan was officially abandoned. The site remained a parking lot for 30 years.

Much of the clearance site, including the former home of the Warner Theater, was developed into a new, 50-story Devon Energy Center headquarters starting in 2008.

To learn more about Morgan, visit www.kenyonmorganarchitects.com. To learn more about the Pei Plan, visit www.impeiokc.com, a site developed by Retro Metro OKC in cooperation with the Oklahoma City/County Historical Society and the Oklahoma Historical Society.

— Steve Lackmeyer
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

Leo C. Sanders was born in Union City, Oklahoma (south of El Reno), on April 2, 1894. He worked his way through the University of Oklahoma, earning his degree in civil engineering in 1920. A laborer at 19, a general contractor sought after by the nation’s leading builders at 35. It was said that Sanders could level entire business blocks overnight, set foundations over weekends and left eastern capitalists generally amazed at finding such a dynamo of speed and efficiency in the vast pampas of North America, where 10–story buildings were still exciting.

A January 18, 1931, Oklahoman article said, “’If it can’t be done, let Sanders do it’ has become more than expression among many of the southwest’s largest builders who have found where speed is as vital as carefulness, Leo Sanders, Oklahoma City contractor, accomplishes the seemingly impossible in combining cyclonic speed with minute accuracy.”

Leo Sanders Construction projects included the following:

- Montgomery Wards: One of Sanders’ early projects was clearing the surface for, and then creating the foundation of, the Montgomery Wards building at Main and Walker, in 1929.

- Exchange Avenue Viaduct: Construction of the Exchange Avenue Viaduct over the North Canadian, took place in 1930. This project should not be confused with a later replacement (1954-1955) bridge which contract was awarded to his son, J.C. Sanders, but over which Leo was the project director.

- The Rock Island Depot: Sanders was contracted in 1930 to raze the old Rock Island Depot on the immediate north side of the Skirvin Hotel (roughly where the Skirvin’s ballroom areas are today). Sanders’ job was to demolish the depot within the space of four days’ time. On Jan. 14. 1931, the Oklahoman reported “Last month Rock Island railroad officials were doubtful about being able to clear their station off the right of way in the four days they were allowed. They called on Sanders. In 24 hours the station was just a memory.”

- YWCA: Another job completed by Sanders in 1930 immediately south of the Oklahoma County Courthouse at Park and Hudson.

- Ramsey Tower: Perhaps the most remembered of Sanders’ projects was is doing the foundation work for the Ramsey Tower in 1931. He also had the job of clearing the buildings that Ramsey Tower would replace.

- Skirvin Tower : Sanders was hired to do the foundation for the Skirvin Tower in 1931. In 1936, he built the tunnel under Broadway connecting Skirvin Tower and the Skirvin Hotel – a tunnel that started what is now known as “The Underground” pedestrian tunnels.

- Santa Fe Depot and Railway Elevation: Leo Sanders Construction built the current Santa Fe Depot in 1930 and the adjoining railroad elevation that separates Bricktown from downtown.

- Will Rogers Courts. The federal government selected Mr. Sanders to construct a Works Projects Administration (WPA) low income housing project adjacent to and north and west of Rotary Park, near Packingtown.

During the two years that it took to complete the 37 acre project in 1937, he was besieged in controversy. He would be assailed and vilified by unions and union leaders for having an “open shop” and he was attacked by the City of Oklahoma City for his not allowing city plumbing inspectors into the project. Warrants were even issued for his arrest. This was a federal project and he perceived that the matter was none of the city’s business. Aided by his attorney, John Shirk, he succeeded in avoiding the city’s claims and charges against him by resorting to and succeeding in federal court litigation. Sanders completed the project, which provided housing for 1,420 people and still stands today.

He died in Oklahoma City on December 22, 1980. The Leo Sanders Collection photos were provided to Retro Metro OKC by founding member Norman Thompson and Sanders’ grandson, Chris Sanders.

— Doug Loudenback and Steve Lackmeyer
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

The Veazey Drug Company story begins with the arrival of Stephen F. Veazey in Oklahoma City from Gibson County, Tennessee in 1900. The company narrative maintains that Veazey came to town with $20 and learned the pharmacy business through a series of jobs in local drugstores. This may be true but, Veazey and his brother James appear to have had a grocery store back in Dyer, Tenn. so he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with the retail business.

In 1906, Veazey partnered with Thomas Roach to buy the W. B. Armour drugstore at Robinson and California. With growing success, they moved to the southeast corner of Main and Harvey after purchasing the drug store of Julius Seaforth in 1908. Though they had incorporated as Security Drug Company, they changed the name to Roach & Veazey Drug Company the following year.

After about a decade together, Roach and Veazey parted ways and Stephen’s brother James came out from Tennessee to partner with his brother in a newer, larger store at 135-137 W Main. The new partners removed Roach’s name from the store and operated as Veazey Drug Company.

Veazey Drug prospered during the 1920s and by Stephen Veazey’s twentieth year as a druggist the brothers embarked on an aggressive expansion plan. Following the city’s residential settlement patterns, Veazey’s (as it was popularly referred to) opened eight new suburban stores in the two-year period from 1927-1929 and four more in the early 1930s. In 1938 they championed their fiercest rivals, the Crown Drug Store chain, and added the Crown stores to Veazey’s for a total of 21 stores.

The Veazey brothers continued their success until their deaths in 1955. Both brothers died within months of each other – Stephen in June and James in August. Stephen’s wife Violet purchased controlling interest in the company from Mrs. James Veazey; their son William became the vice president of the company. The remainder of the 1950s saw the chain remodel and reinvent itself, ultimately contracting to 17 stores. In March, 1962, the firm was sold to the Adams drug store chain of Rhode Island. Adams retained the Veazey name in the Oklahoma City area. Later that year they also purchased the smaller Katz Drug chain and converted those stores into Veazey stores. The original Veazey #1 moved across the street into the Katz downtown location at 200 W Main, site of the famous civil rights sit-ins of a few years earlier.

Veazey’s was the last big drug store in a downtown retail area ravaged by suburban shopping malls. The store finally locked its doors for the last time when its air conditioner gave out in 1972; it cost more to repair the cooling equipment than the store made in profit. At any rate the building was already scheduled for future demolition by the Urban Renewal Authority.

The last Veazey Drug closed at NW 63 and Portland in 1974. A handful of former Veazey store buildings are extant including the original #8 at 728 E Culbertson and the renumbered #8 at 2624 W Britton in the old Puddin’ Lane Shopping Center. Two notable examples are store #3 now occupied by James E. McNellie’s Public House in the restored Plaza Court building and #21, a former Crown Drug, at 4200 N Western has been occupied by VZD’s Restaurant and Club since 1976. The current tenants pay homage to the original occupants by featuring photographs and fixtures from the old drug store.

— Larry Johnson
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

Springlake Amusement Park was a popular Oklahoma City attraction from the 1920s through the 1970s. Admission to the park was free and rides and the pool were on a pay-as-you-go basis. If you just wanted to picnic by the lake there was no charge. Although the amusement-park no longer exists, its memory is honored by the presence of the Metrotech educational facility in its stead on at Martin Luther King Boulevard and NE 38.

Oklahoma City boasted three amusement parks in the mid-twentieth century: Wedgewood, Springlake, and Frontier City. In 1924, after his spring-fed pond in northeast Oklahoma City had been open to swimming and picnicking for six years, Roy Staton built a swimming pool there. Later expanding his park, he bought many of the rides from the defunct Belle Isle Park, built a ballroom, and in 1929 added the Big Dipper roller coaster, a fixture in the park for almost fifty years.

The height of Springlake’s popularity extended from the 1950s into the 1960s, and the park attracted top entertainers of the era including Johnny Cash, the Righteous Brothers, Roy Acuff, and Conway Twitty.

Demise

Springlake’s glory days, however, are remembered by the city’s black community as a time when the park restricted its attractions to whites only. By the 1960s, laws, attitudes and the changing demographics of the neighborhood made such discrimination increasingly unacceptable.

Once located in an all-white section of the city, the park figuratively became a white island in a black sea. Prior to the 1950s, Oklahoma City’s black residents lived mainly on the city’s near northeast side, south of NE 23. By the mid-1950s black families had moved northward into the immediate vicinity of Springlake park. Residents like Ruthie Forshee, a black woman residing on Springlake Drive in the mid-1950s, remembered watching the park’s Independence Day fireworks display from her yard. She was not welcome to participate in a celebration to commemorate her nation’s freedom.

With the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, black residents were no longer reluctant to enter the park. However, there remained an area of the park where blacks still were not welcome. Although many whites were willing to share the park’s midway with blacks, sharing the swimming pool was quite another matter. Staton could not lawfully deny blacks access to the pool, but if he let blacks in, he risked losing many white patrons. Faced with a dilemma, his choice of action did not come easy.

To avoid a clash between whites and blacks over the pool issue, Staton closed the pool to everyone except the members of an exclusive Aquatic Club, an evasive policy he soon abandoned. When Wedgewood Park opened its pool to everyone, Staton had little choice but to lift the membership requirement. Finally integrated, Springlake’s pool, open since 1924, closed forever after the 1967 season. It became a Sea-Aquarium, where dolphins frolicked in water once reserved for humans. The lost revenue from the swimming pool would be sorely missed in the years to come.

Racial tension remained an issue for the park. News of a large riot that erupted in 1971 in the park between whites and blacks frightened away potential customers and hastened Springlake’s demise. A change of ownership, poor maintenance, and fire led to the park’s 1981 sale to the Oklahoma City Vo-Tech Board, which closed Springlake for good.

— Doug Loudenback, author of “Springlake” (Arcadia Press)
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

The Collection

The bulk of these photos were kept by Marvin Staton, son of Roy Staton, and then left with Norman Thompson, a founding member of Retro Metro OKC.

The original collection was not organized as far as we are aware. In the interest of easier access and smoother browsing, the Springlake Collection photos have been sorted into five categories. These categories were created according to the type of photo or the perceived intent of the photographer and specific topics may appear in many categories (e.g. a search for ‘rollercoaster’ may return results from several categories rather than just the ‘Rides’ category).

It started with a gunshot – Legally, there were no residents at all in Oklahoma City when gunshots rang out on April 22, 1889. The shots heralded what may be one of the most sudden births of a city in the history of mankind. The Land Run of 1889 offered hope and opportunity for anyone brave enough to stake their lots and gamble their fortunes that a great city would rise at Oklahoma Station. With a river flowing through it and ample rail access, this new city’s population quickly swelled to 10,000.

One area of this new city, however, was initially off limits. Troops from Fort Reno established an outpost east of the Santa Fe tracks. Once convinced that law and order had been established, the troops withdrew, making the area ripe for development. A decade after the land run, Congress instructed the city to plat the area and sell the properties with proceeds benefiting public schools. The deal also called for creation of Riverside Park along the North Canadian River and construction of a school.

Boom Times:

The former outpost was fertile ground for industrial development. Wholesalers and distributors, many from Chicago, early on set up shop along the Santa Fe tracks. Rock Island tracks and Katy tracks formed the south and north borders to the city’s new wholesale district. Some industries flourished. Wholesale grocers like Williamson Halsell and Fraiser, and Carroll Brough & Robinson became major regional distributors. Oklahoma Sash & Door and the Federal Steam Company helped build the new city. The First State Ice Company kept the new city cool, and also provided the critical element to ensuring wholesalers’ success. Households were furnished and maintained with goods from the Miller-Jackson Company and Oklahoma City Hardware. The Iten Biscuit Company, meanwhile, put bread on families tables, while the Steffen’s dairy provided them with milk and ice cream.

The wholesale district also became an important regional hub for agriculture and cotton production. Implements dealers with names of Kingman, Rock Island Plow and International Harvester set up shop to provide everything a farmer might need while taking care of the business in the big city. The wholesale district persevered and continued to grow through World War I and beyond. Grand new passenger depots were built by the Santa Fe and Katy railroads. And even in the midst of the Great Depression, the city and the Sante Fe Railroad joined together to build a raised viaduct that would allow for safe passage of cars and pedestrians under the busy tracks.

The wholesale district was rarely without some fun or mischief. Employees of the Fox-Vliet Drug Company played baseball against employees of Carroll, Brough & Robinson. The Southern Club offered cigars, liquor, gambling and loose women all while trying to claim it was just a respectable gentleman’s club. And ‘Big Anne’, well, she made no such pretense as she operated her bordello at the foot of the Walnut Avenue bridge along Main Street. Families came to the wholesale district as well to grab a free ice cream at Steffen’s or sample some treats at the Walter Williams Candy Company.

The ties between the black community and the wholesale district were strong. The Walnut Avenue bridge connected the all black Deep Deuce to hundreds of jobs. Children from Deep Deuce cross the bridge to attend Douglass High School. It was here that jazz legends Jimmy Rushing and Charlie Christian perfected their craft under the tutelage of Zelia N. Breaux.

By the 1930s the wholesale district was a handsome collection of sturdy brick warehouses and plants that were the pride of the city. Companies like Oklahoma Furniture Manufacturing built ornate brick buildings and painted their name in big letters on the side. Corporate leaders of these plants and warehouses were convinced their legacies would last for decades – that the wholesale district would continue to bustle forever. And as if to put an exclamation point on that belief, the discovery of the Oklahoma City Oil Field created a forest of oil derricks as a southeast backdrop to the district.

FADING SIGNS

The dreamers and corporate titans were wrong. The very progress that made the wholesale district great began to turn against it. The loss of too many important businesses like the Cotton Exchange to fire began to have its toll on the area’s vitality. Civic leaders began to plot a new industrial district north of downtown that they hoped would thrive with more space to grow than the original wholesale district. The Great Depression killed more major wholesalers. The railroads began to suffer as they lost passenger travel to the emergence of airliners. The closure of the Douglass High School and relocation of its student body further east seemed to mark the start of decay. Obsolete structures were no longer likely to be torn down and replaced with new industry. The overall stature of companies that still called the wholesale district home dropped precipitously.

Construction of the Interstate 40 Crosstown Expressway cut the wholesale district off from the once thriving cotton exchange area. And the start of Urban Renewal eliminated what wholesalers remained on the west side of the Santa Fe tracks after construction of the railway viaduct. Train depots closed, entire track spurs went silent.

By the 1970s blight was spreading throughout the area. Once grand buildings began to fall to the wrecking ball. Without a savior, there would be no need for Urban Renewal to come through and clear-cut the area as it had west of the tracks. Time and neglect were taking care of the job quite effectively.

BRICK TOWN U.S.A.

Neal Horton was considered crazy, and not a savior, when he began to buy up properties at the start of the 1980s. After a stint in banking, Horton caught the development bug from one of his acquaintances. During trips to Colorado, Horton saw historic preservation in Denver’s Larimer Square. Much of downtown Oklahoma City’s oldest and finest buildings had been razed by Urban Renewal, but a few had survived. After an unsuccessful attempt to buy the Cravens Building at Robinson and Park Avenues, Horton got his shot with nearly-century-old Oil and Gas Building down the street. But much of the building had been covered with metal siding, and so much of the original building had been damaged that he had to erect a new brick façade. Moving further south along Robinson Avenue, he got another shot at historic preservation with the Colcord Building. And it was while he was looking out of an office window at the Colcord that Horton saw the old wholesale district.

Where others saw the wholesale district as an eyesore, Horton saw a historic district that would draw people who thought all of Oklahoma City’s architectural heritage had been destroyed. Attorney Bill Peterson, meanwhile, saw an opportunity with the Iten Biscuit plant. He entered into negotiations to buy the property and commissioned an architect to draw up plans to convert the warehouse into a retail mall. Peterson lost the deal to U-Haul, however, and the building was instead turned into a storage facility. But Peterson’s effort caught the attention of Horton, and the two teamed up to form the Warehouse Development Company. They recruited one more partner, John Michael Williams, who had previously worked as a land attorney with the city. Together, they began doing deals with wholesale district property owners, many of whom were now living out of state.

Despite its abundance of brick warehouses and brick streets, the name Bricktown did not originate with any of the three partners. Instead, it was thought up by a potential San Francisco investor being solicited by Horton and Peterson. When asked what they were going to call their development, the pair admitted they didn’t have an answer. It was then the investor, looking out of Horton’s office at the Colcord, responded “Why don’t you call it Bricktown?”

The plan for Bricktown (initially marketed as “Brick Town U.S.A.”) seemed simple at first. The oil boom in the early 1980s was going in full swing and downtown office space was virtually full. The partners agreed to double-digit interest rates on construction loans fully anticipating they could capture a lease rate of $15 a square foot or better. They dreamed up lists of potential tenants – a candy store, an antiques shop, clothing stores, a radio station, cleaners, music stores, restaurants, bars, delis and art galleries. Horton made presentations where he suggested Bricktown would be a great place to introduce a “new concept” – a bed and breakfast inn.

Just as renovations were getting underway on the first pair of buildings, the boom turned to bust. Wheeling and dealing at Penn Square Bank in northwest Oklahoma City led to it being closed by the FDIC. The bank’s collapse then triggered failures throughout the oil and gas industry as loans based on handshakes went bad. Occupancy rates downtown plummeted as companies went bankrupt. Horton, Peterson and Williams had gone too far to stop – they had to continue on and hope that the downturn would be temporary. They continued to promote Bricktown as the state’s first urban entertainment district and tried to negotiate deals for offices and restaurants.

The Warehouse Development Company was going broke. In addition to buying up properties, Horton had gone on trips across the country and throughout Europe buying up old furnishings and fixtures for the delis, shops and restaurants that did not yet exist. Horton’s car was reposed as he tried to negotiate a deal with the Department of Housing and Urban Development to get a grant for a parking garage. Horton was mocked behind his back and city planners suggested he might have fared better by razing all the warehouses and starting from scratch with a new office park.

Jim Brewer – “Mayor of Bricktown”

The demise of the Warehouse Development Company, however, did not end Bricktown. A new group of owners would come in and keep Horton’s dream alive. They included Jim Tolbert and Don Karchmer, turn-around experts who bought the two nearly finished buildings along Sheridan Avenue. They completed the job and moved in, and thus maintained a stable presence in an area still avoided by the public. Williams, meanwhile, recruited a fellow southsider, a gritty oilman who had survived the bust with his assets intact. Jim Brewer had pulled himself out of poverty by working his way up from operating a transmission shop to opening successful nightclubs to his luck in the oil patch. When touring the former wholesale district, Brewer brought along some acquaintances. They included Craig Brown, who previously had been involved in development of Crossroads Mall. Brewer and Brown together realized the old Hunzicker Lighting building, filled with Horton’s antiques, reminded them of a haunted warehouse. After touring a similar operation in Kansas City, they did a deal with bankers to lease the Bricktown warehouse. The Bricktown Haunted Warehouse was a huge success, and Brewer instantly became the P.T. Barnum of Bricktown.

Brewer had succeeded where Horton had failed – he had found a way to draw crowds to Bricktown. Slowly, the district’s fortunes began to turn around with a few offices leased by Tolbert and Karchmer and clubs lured in by Brewer. The final spark to set Bricktown in motion, however, would be the opening of Spaghetti Warehouse in 1989. Founder Robert Hawk followed a blueprint for choosing where to expand. Only an old building in a run-down urban setting would work, and the community had to have a population of at least 100,000. Bricktown fit the bill perfectly, and lines formed outside the restaurant nightly when it opened in the old Oklahoma Furniture Manufacturing factory.

Spaghetti Warehouse’s success opened the floodgates for other restaurants and shops wanting to capitalize on the public’s sudden love affair with Bricktown. Brewer kept the momentum going with festivals and promotions aimed at portraying the district as being busier than it really was. Having once operated nightclubs as a younger man, Brewer went back into the business with O’Brien’s, an Irish bar with dueling piano players and karaoke. The re-establishment of the old minor league Blazers ice hockey team, and launching the minor league Calvary basketball team, provided a stream of sports fans to visit Bricktown before and after games at the Myriad Arena just west of the Santa Fe tracks.

Maps:

Oklahoma City started the 1990s with momentum, but was also still dogged with poor self-esteem. A new mayor, Ron Norick, won voters’ support for a series of tax initiatives aimed at luring new industry. But despite the best of incentives packages, Oklahoma City was repeatedly rejected. He visited Indianapolis after that city won the competition for a new airline maintenance plant. He saw a vibrant downtown and a city that took pride in itself. He returned home with renewed enthusiasm to get Oklahoma City to re-invest in itself. His timing was good – veteran advertising man Ray Ackerman was leading a similar discussion as chairman of the Greater Oklahoma City Chamber. The resulting vision was the Metropolitan Area Projects, which called for multiple projects downtown, including a RiverWalk-style canal and a vintage-style ballpark in Bricktown. The proposition was passed, but not before Horton died from emphysema. Horton had never recovered from his failure in Bricktown, and in the months leading up to his death he was destitute and one point homeless.

The Metropolitan Area Projects, or MAPS, proceeding at a turtle pace that frustrated the public. Early bids came in over budget and timelines were slipping. The ballpark was to be the first project built, located on the site of the old Douglass High School. When it opened in 1998, the ceremonies were attended by some of the greatest names in baseball. The ballpark won rave reviews from the public.

Oklahoma City residents were not sure what to think of the next project – the Bricktown Canal. Planners had originally suggested building it south of Reno Avenue. It was then moved to California Avenue where construction would require excavation at basement level of some of the city’s oldest buildings. Property owners debated design plans. Brewer even yelled and cursed at engineers as he insisted the canal included walkways at both water-level and street-level.

New property owners including orthodontist French Hickman – also a musician known as “Doc Blues” – bought some of the most prominent buildings along the future canal with plans of attracting shops, restaurants and clubs. When the canal opened on July 2, 1999, the ceremonies were mobbed with people wanting to witness history. Long lines formed night after night to ride water taxis that simply traveled to one end of the canal and back again.

A decade later, Bricktown is a regional destination admired and studied by civic delegations across the country. The district is home to hotels, shops, restaurants, condominiums, theaters and even a bowling alley and a massive outdoors store. The district continues to evolve, and is once again one of Oklahoma City’s most important commercial hubs.

COMING SOON:

Retro Metro OKC’s Bricktown historical exhibit is almost complete and will be unveiled soon in the Bricktown Marketplace, 121 E California (Miller-Jackson Building) along the Bricktown Canal.

The Collection:

Steve Lackmeyer, president of Retro Metro OKC, is considered the city’s historian on Bricktown, having conducted extensive interviews with key players including the widow and partners of original developer Neal Horton and years of discussions with the late Jim Brewer. These photos represent acquisitions made by Lackmeyer over more than a dozen years and include materials provided by Horton’s Warehouse Development Co., the Brewer and McLain families, the Oklahoma Historical Society, the City of Oklahoma City and various contractors, architects, businesses and merchants. Lackmeyer authored two books detailing Bricktown’s history – “OKC Second Time Around” (with co-author Jack Money) and “Bricktown.”

— Steve Lackmeyer
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

The advent of a public high school was heralded as a major cultural achievement for young Oklahoma City in 1892. A couple of schools began in the city as early as June, 1889, but these were private schools operating by subscription as no legal authority (and thus funding mechanism) existed for public education at the time. The creation of Oklahoma Territory made public education possible in the new city.

The first high school began in 1892 in a rented store front at 319 West California where Mary D. Couch presided over the students. Available evidence is sketchy, but it seems that Ms. Couch was teaching advanced courses, but this early version may not have been quite a fully formed high school. At the time, students across the country generally attended school up to the eighth grade and high school was reserved for those learning skilled trades or as preparation for those going on to college. The city’s school population had increased to about 1200 students and officials believed a sufficient number of students could benefit from a high school.

That following year the federal government reverted ownership of Military Hill, the land east of the Santa Fe tracks which made up the military reservation, to the city with the stipulation that the land be designated for educational use. It was determined that a high school building should be built on this land when funds became available. Socialite Mrs. Selwyn Douglas (Julia) was selected to organize the high school when it could be built. But Mrs. Douglas, known for her boundless energy (she would later found the first public library), did not wait for a building. She immediately arranged for classes to begin in the former Army post’s barracks. Ethel McMillan, in History of the Public Library of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, writes,

“There was no building, but what was that to thwart one with the ability, courage, and authority to worthily direct the opportunities for youth teeming with life at high tide? So to the four-room log house recently used as a barracks on the Military Reservation, gathered these young people from the various sections of the nation with the background of characteristics of all these areas and could any young people have been more fortunate in leadership?”

By 1896 the high school building at NE 4 and Walnut was completed in fine Richardsonian style. This building would eventually be known as Irving School but to everyone in town it was “the high school.”
During the great population and building boom of 1909-1910, prolific local architect Solomon Layton designed a grand structure at 801 N Robinson at the southern end of “Church Row.” The new school was built in the Collegiate Gothic architectural style and provided excellent facilities for a complete high school education. Among these were an auditorium, a two-tiered gymnasium, a swimming pool, and specially equipped classrooms for courses such as home economics and shop. For its first sixteen years, the facility was known as Oklahoma High School, but after the construction of Classen High School (1919) and the proposed Capitol Hill High School (1928), the name was changed to Central High School in 1926.

The school reached its peak usage in the 1950s, but declines in enrollment caused by increased suburbanization sent the school into decline in the 1960s. Central High School essentially ceased to function as school in 1968 when it was reclassified as a junior high school. The building remained school board property until 1981 when it was sold to the Southwestern Bell Corporation which remade the now decrepit building into its Oklahoma headquarters.

Throughout its history Central produced dozens of successful graduates whose names adorn buildings and streets all around the city and a few corporate boardrooms and Hollywood marquees as well. Central’s alums were possessed of much loyalty and school spirit and ultimately formed the Central High School Alumni Association which cooperated with Southwestern Bell in creating a Central High School Museum in the remodeled building. Though no longer located in that building, the Association’s collection contains a trove of artifacts from the school’s traditions including the photographs they have shared with Retro Metro OKC.

— Buddy Johnson
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

In the late 1920s railway executives determined the Santa Fe Train Station that had served the city since statehood needed to be replaced. And that change would include a new set of elevated tracks. The $5 million elevation would allow a free flow of traffic under bridges to be built under the new tracks. But the East Side Civic Improvement League quickly expressed concerns that the project would not allow ample east-west crossings and asked that bridges be added at NW 6, NW 1 (Park Avenue) and Noble Avenue.

The project ground to a halt in 1930 as the debate continued. Engineers with the Santa Fe Railroad advised the city would have to pay $500,000 to accommodate the requested changes. City planning consultant S. Herbert Hare backed the civic league’s requested changes. In October, 1930, the city and the railroad struck an agreement to provide the requested crossings at a cost of $347,000 to be paid by the city. Protests continued, however, when engineers revealed plans called for a deep dip along NW 6 as it passed under the tracks.

After briefly considering abandoning the project in late 1930, the Santa Fe Railroad and city agreed to the compromised plan (including the dip at NW 6). Leo Sanders Construction started work in the spring of 1931. The entire project, including the construction of a new Santa Fe Train Depot, was completed in 1934.

The Collection

These photos were provided by Stan Hall, president of the Oklahoma Railway Museum. The photos were taken by the Santa Fe Railway recording the progress of the elevation construction in 1931 and also capture rare views of surrounding industry.

To learn more about the Oklahoma Railway Museum, visit http://oklahomarailwaymuseum.org

— Steve Lackmeyer
Scanning by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

The Oklahoma Railway Co. operated from 1903 to 1947 and during its heyday it was the chief means of transportation for residents throughout central Oklahoma.

On February 6, 1903, the Oklahoman headline read, “Car Service Next Monday,” and indeed it was. The article tells a brief story about a “Boomer” who had witnessed a trial run. He had sighted “the modern electric flyer” moving north on Broadway, and “His amazement was apparent.”

Leaning forward, with his hands thrown out, sombrero tilted back, this survivor of the picturesque band of intrepid adventurers which effected the opening of Oklahoma to white settlement stood with his eyes riveted upon the receding car until it disappeared from view over the crest of the North Broadway divide, when, straightening up and heaving a great sigh, he exclaimed:

“Well, by thunder! They’ve sure got them cars toted by lightnin.”

With this solitary comment the” boomer” entered the nearest saloon and quieted his nerves by swallowing a four-finger quantum of fire water with a toast to “civilization and the memory of David Payne.”

The article noted there would be two lines, the University Line (South Broadway to University Heights) and the Maywood Line (Stiles Park to Colcord Park and Delmar Garden). If that be so, the routing would quickly change … When Oklahoma Took The Trolley says that, “The original plan called for a four-mile double-tracked loop around the downtown district on Main Street and Grand Ave., but by February 7, 1903, cars were operated on a more elaborate system including a line from Choctaw and Broadway north to 13th and Broadway; a line from Main and Broadway west to Western; a line from Reno and Harvey north to Fourth, west to Walker and north to 13th, and a line from Stiles Park from Fourth and Broadway via Harrison Ave.”

Oklahoma City’s trolley and interurban system was not funded by public funds. It was funded by leading city businessmen Anton Classen and John Shartel who poured millions of dollars into developing and maintaining the system.

After obtaining a franchise from the city, it was pretty much up to a company to develop the lines as they saw fit (in the absence of a city council’s prohibition of placing track on a particular street). If they knew what they intended, land, and lots of it, could be acquired before the line was actually developed … of course, by other companies who not coincidentally were at least partially owned by the same principal stockholders of the traction lines themselves. By controlling the trolley routes, Classen and Shartel guided much of the city’s early day growth.

The system continued to growth through the early 1920s, with ridership peaking at 25.5 million in 1920. The city’s population that year totaled 91,000, which, if broken down by just locals, averages out to 280 rides for every man, woman and child.

With 130 miles of tracks to maintain and operate, and the emergence of the automobile, the Oklahoma Railway Co. struggled financially throughout the 1920s. In 1924 the company was forced into federal receivership, and while that ended in reorganization in 1927, the turmoil continued.

By the start of the 1940s, the company started a plan to replace lines with buses. The last Oklahoma City streetcar ran on April 13, 1947, followed by the final Interurban run on September 27, 1947.

The Collection:

Dr. George Winn was one of Oklahoma City’s leading allergists and was one of the key players in building the Oklahoma City Allergy Clinic at the Oklahoma Health Center.

Winn’s dedication to recording and preserving the history of the Oklahoma Railway Co. – including the Oklahoma City streetcars and Interurbans – is a priceless snapshot of our city’s past.

Winn was a life long train enthusiast, enjoyed collecting miniature trains and also filming full size trains among other subjects and taking photos.

He was a noted member of the Cinematographers Club of Oklahoma City, and started in that hobby by taking his own home movies on 16mm film starting in the late 1920s on. He and his wife traveled the world, as much by train as other modes.

George filmed trains and streetcars, because he found them interesting. The different types and configurations caught his attention, as did the scenery or street traffic in the background. He knew the local streetcar and interurban lines were being converted to buses in the 1940s, which inspired him to record the final operations on film.

In addition to filming the streetcars as they traveled through downtown, the OU Medical Center and surrounding suburbs, Winn contributed a collection of Oklahoma Railway Co. memorabilia to the Oklahoma Railway Museum at 3400 NE Grand Boulevard.

Thanks goes to Steve Davis, who along with fellow train enthusiast Willis Bottger transferred the Winn films to video, and then made them available for display by Retro Metro OKC.

— Doug Loudenback and Steve Lackmeyer
Video transfered by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

Step inside the Skirvin Hilton Hotel, Balliet’s or any trendy restaurant, and chances are there will not be any customized matchbooks provided by the host. But throughout much of the 1900s, matchbooks were commonplace in the hospitality industry – and were a thriving conduit for advertising around the world.

According to the American Matchbook Collecting Club, tens of thousands of advertisers were using matchbooks by the 1920s, making it one of the most popular means of advertising at the time.

For about $5 a case for 2,500 professionally printed matchbooks, a small business could get enough professionally printed matchbooks. Matchbook production peaked at 500,000 in 1945, and then went into a slow decline with the advent of lighters followed by anti-smoking laws.

The Collection:

Hundreds of matchbooks have been provided for display by Retro Metro OKC by Kyle Anderson, owner of Kyle’s 1025 restaurant and Retro Metro OKC founding member Norman Thompson.

The Vintage OKC Matchbook Collection includes some stunning examples, including a matchbook for Beverly’s restaurant that shows a full color logo printed on the actual matchsticks. The Kerr’s Department Store matchbook is unique in that it is designed to close at the top of the two covers instead of at the strike strip.

Each matchbook was staged and photographed by Retro Metro OKC webmaster Justin Tyler Moore to allow for a full view of each item. The matchbooks provide a glimpse at advertising campaigns for some of Oklahoma City’s most beloved businesses, and also show the broad appeal of matchbook advertising during an era when smoking was commonplace in hotels, restaurants, shops and offices.

— Steve Lackmeyer
Photography by the RetroMetro OKC Resources Committee

For Oklahoma City, Dolores Restaurant is just a memory – another great restaurant that faded away after being a local favorite for decades. But for Los Angeles, the legend continues.

Confused?

This story starts back when drive-through restaurants were brand new – an innovation prompted by the sudden explosion of cross country automobile travel.

It was in the early 1920s that Ralph Stephens took his first shot at the restaurant business, opening first at NW 4 and Olie, and then later at Main and Broadway where competition and a lot of debt led him to flee in 1923 with his wife, Amanda, sons Vince and Bob, and daughter Dolores.

The family made its first stop in Dallas, where Stephens later said he saw “a pig stand with what looked like a thousand cars around it.” Indeed Dallas was where the very first pig stand (forerunners to drive-through restaurants), Kirby’s, had opened in 1921.

Stephens was hired by one of the Dallas pig stand chains and learned the operation in Dallas before setting out to open a stand in Little Rock. Before going to his post, Stephens took his family to his wife’s family house in Hannibal, Mo. And it was there that Stephens, visiting with his father-in-law, a carpenter, decided it made more sense to open their own business rather than work for someone else.

The family “slept in the stand” while it was being built, and in June 1925, Goody-Goody Barbeque opened for business. Business initially boomed. But the crowds disappeared once cold weather settled in.

Once again, Stephens was a failed restaurateur.

“We closed, and being sort of soldiers in fortune, we took off for Florida,” Stephens explained in a 1968 interview. “The land boom was on then and we went to Tampa and opened one restaurant, then another. They had told us there were no rooms in Tampa so we bought a tent and slept under that until we almost flooded out.”

The crash of 1929 once again killed Stephens’ short-lived success story. The family returned to Oklahoma City with Stephens determined to settle his debts and prove he could be a successful restaurant operator.

And this time, he was coming with a secret weapon. While in Hannibal, Amanda Stephens obtained a recipe for “comeback” sauce from a barbeque stand in nearby Quincy, Ill. And what a comeback it would be.

Dolores Restaurant, named after Stephens’ daughter, opened at 33 NE 23 on April 15, 1930.

“The Depression hadn’t hit Oklahoma yet and the first year our volume was $52,000,” Stephens said. “We never closed our doors when the Depression hit, but we were selling hamburgers and malts for a dime each to stay open.”

The Stephens continued to add their own touches, even inventing “Susi-Q potatoes” in 1938. They wowed customers with their black-bottom pie and salad dressings. And Stephens also continued the idea of “drive-in” service, establishing parking stalls behind the restaurant, which at the time was located along the heavily-traveled Route 66.

By the 1940s Dolores was becoming a top pick for Route 66 guidebooks. Duncan Hines recommended the restaurant in his 1941 book “Adventures in Good Cooking,” saying “I enjoy eating here, especially their steaks and Susi-Q potatoes and barbequed ribs. They have the best biscuits I have found anywhere in America, made by Neal, a colored woman, who does not use a recipe, but has a remarkable sense of feel, which tells here when the mixture is right – served twice a week (I suggest you wire ahead requesting these remarkable biscuits). Their menu provides a variety of good salads and other things, and I hope you are fortunate enough to find Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Stephens there, so you may meet them personally.”

Dolores Restraurant was booming enough without the high praise from Mr. Hines – that winter Stephens shut the restaurant for a couple of weeks, expanded the dining area and engaged in a bit of rare advertising (Only after selling the restaurant to investors were advertisements seen again in the early 1970s)

Stephens’ brother-in-law, Bob Ogle, became manager of the restaurant (“Ogle’s Special” referred to a root beer float he perfected) and in 1945, Ralph and Amanda Stephens moved to California. They opened a Dolores Drive-In on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, and followed up by opening three more restaurants.

Stephens eventually sold all but the Beverly Hills drive-in, which he turned over to his son Bob in 1961. His second son, Vince, meanwhile, was building up a legend of his own back in Oklahoma City.

Maybe you’ve heard of it – the Split T.

In 1966 Amanda Stephens died. Ralph Stephens quickly remarried, and in 1968 he bought The Pub at 6418 N Western. A year later he sold Dolores Restaurant to a group of investors, who closed it for good in 1974. After eight years of standing vacant, The Catering Co. announced plans to reopen the restaurant, but if it did reopen (there is no further record of the restaurant), the venture was short-lived. The building was razed a few years later.

The Dolores name, meanwhile, endures in Los Angeles with the Stephens established a chain of their eateries.

The following history is provided by Dolores Restaurant at www.doloresrestaurant.com:

Dolores was founded by Amanda and Ralph Stevens, who after owning various restaurants in different states moved to Los Angeles in 1944 and opened the Dolores drive-in restaurant in Hollywood.

There were many drive-in restaurants in Los Angeles during the mid 1940′s and Dolores fit right in. Then, in 1956 the Stevens’ son Robert and his wife Lucille moved to Los Angeles to help manage the newly leased Dolores Restaurant on Wilshire Blvd. and La Cienega in Beverly Hills. The restaurant was a hit with the local teenagers in the 40′s and 50′s with its carhops, Suzie Q’s and JJ Burgers became a staple in the community for the next thirty years.

These “good times” would soon end when in 1981 Dolores drive-in was forced to close down to make room for a high rise office building. The last of the remaining Dolores Restaurants is the one you see today located at 11407 Santa Monica Blvd. in West Los Angeles where the food and service are like they have never been before

In 2008 Dolores Restaurant was put under new management. With a fresh new vision, a passion for taste and quality food and a true concern to support local growers, new owner, Kourosh Izadpanahi, brings a new take to this classic diner. The new Dolores Restaurant meets today’s customers’ needs for taste and health conscious food.

The Collection:

Many of these photos, menus and mementos were provided by Chris Chesnut, great-grandson of Ralph and Amanda Stephens, and Dale Cobb, daughter of Dolores Cobb. For Chestnut, whose grandfather was Bob Stephens, the Dolores legacy is every bit a matter of family pride. His photos reflect Ralph and Amanda Stephens’ friendship with Duncan Hines, their life spent in Florida, and their pioneering of drive-in restaurants. Chestnut drove with his young family from Fort Worth to Oklahoma City to help Retro Metro OKC celebrate its “birthday” on July 15, 2010, and webmaster Justin Tyler Moore did a scanning demonstration at the end of the evening. Dale Cobb and her husband James also joined in the fun and brought the famous Dolores Comeback Sauce for the party.

With such acts of graciousness and friendship, Retro Metro OKC considers the Dolores family kindred spirits and cherished allies in sharing yet another bit of city history with future generations.

-Steve Lackmeyer
Scanning completed by the Retro Metro OKC Resource Committee

An advertisement in the Dec. 5, 1932 Daily Oklahoman introduced the Britling Cafeteria as “Oklahoma City’s newest good place to eat,” adding it would “soon be famous in Oklahoma City for serving fine home-cooked dishes at new and sure-to-be-popular low prices.” Accompanying renderings showed patrons dressed in fine gowns and tuxedos dining in opulent settings.

The restaurant at 221 W First was opened a few days later by A.W.B. Johnson, who had opened his first cafeteria during World War I utilizing conservation methods popularized as a war measure, combined with serving quality food. He opened his first Britling Cafeteria in Birmingham, Alabama, followed by additional restaurants opened in Louisville and Memphis – both of which were then transferred to the control of Johnson’s sons.

Those who dined at the cafeteria that first week were treated 5-cent bowls of vegetable and cream of tomato soup, beef loaf with onion sauce for 12 cents, deviled crabs for 15 cents, veal pot roast and dressing or baked ham for 24 cents. Sides included Mexican slaw, potato salad, sweet slaw, Colorado lettuce, Waldorf Salad and sliced tomatoes.

The restaurant isn’t mentioned after 1948. A year later the address of 221 W First appears to have been swallowed up by the appliance section of the growing John A. Brown Department Store.

Such restaurants, however, are a critical part of a community’s history. They are where happy memories are created – and hopefully a memento might survive decades later.

Such is the case with the Britling Cafeteria, which closed decades ago. A simple matchbook collected by restaurateur and self-professed history geek Kyle Anderson gives a glimpse at the cafeteria’s reach for grandeur.

The Collection:

Anderson, owner of Kyle’s 1025 at NW 70 and Western (formerly Charlie Newton’s and before that the Kentucky Club), is a fifth generation Oklahoman whose collection of restaurant memorabilia includes menus from Beverly’s and Glen’s Hickory Inn, matchbooks from numerous old restaurants and hotels, table settings, advertisements and other mementos.

Anderson learned about the importance of such acquisitions as a youth volunteering his time for the Oklahoma Historical Society at the Overholser Mansion. He admits his mother and grandmother rarely cooked – and the family dinner hour was often spent at Queen Anne Cafeteria in Founders Tower, which was where his grandfather worked.

He remembers enjoying meals at Sleepy Hollow Restaurant, where his grandfather often joked that the pineapple sherbet, which never seemed to disappear, was left over from a truck that wrecked in 1945.

Anderson’s mementos are the foundation for Retro Metro OKC’s vintage restaurant collection, which also includes items displayed by members and the Oklahoma Historical Society. And this is one collection where visitors’ comments may shape the future of our history.

Anderson’s restaurant is itself a bit of history, having once been home to the last incarnation of the Kentucky Club, where the city’s well to do used a secret buzzer to gain access to an upstairs room where drinks flowed a bit more freely than legally allowed and certain games were conducted despite the disapproval of the law.

The history of the Kentucky Club goes back to 1939, when it was opened at 1226 NE 63 by Kentucky transplants Tony and Winnie Bell Marneres. The site was far out in the country – and customers could pay a $1 cover charge and enjoy a 25-cent Coke in the air conditioned oasis. Newspaper clippings document the gambling; only legend and gossip support reports of alcohol (Oklahoma remained a Prohibition state long after the national ban was repealed in 1933). The original building burned in 1949 and reopened as the Ramada Club (it is now home to the County Line BBQ).

John Bell, Winnie Marneres’ brother and head chef at the Kentucky Club, was lured away to start a new Kentucky Club at NW 70 and Western, where, legend has it, some of the old activities enjoyed at the original establishment were resumed in an upstairs room that could only be accessed by a hidden buzzer. The restaurant was later renamed Bells – then Charlie Newton’s – and now Kyle’s 1025.

As this collection is being added (July, 2010), Anderson is planning to share the history of his restaurant, and his extensive mementos with patrons, with menus changing every couple of weeks to feature recipes from beloved old eateries.

Please feel free to use the comments section to share your own memories, even recipes, from your favorite old Oklahoma City restaurants.

— Steve Lackmeyer
Scanning by the Retro Metro OKC Resources Committee

Jon Spence has worked in Oklahoma City television most of his life. Although most of his career has been focused on television advertising, his love affair with the industry began during a Cub Scout field trip in which he learned to make a pretend camera fashioned from an old curtain rod and a shoebox. Throughout most of his youth and all through high school at Harding, Spence could be seen with a Brownie camera in his hand. So he was the natural choice when his brother, who was friends with reporter Bob Chaddock in the news department at WKY-TV, heard of an apprenticeship opening for a cameraman at the historic station in 1963.

Spence rose quickly behind the scenes at WKY-TV running the camera, coiling camera cables and even sweeping the floors when necessary and eventually he made studio supervisor which included helping to create commercials for the station and some of its clients. On-air personality Pat Shockey noticed Spence’s talent and referred him to her husband, Bill, who recruited him for the prominent Glenn Advertising Agency in 1969. While resigning as studio supervisor, Spence’s boss at WKY-TV told him he’d never make it in advertising. But over the next thirteen years Spence wrote, produced and directed a number of commercials for high profile clients at Glenn, picking up several Addy Awards along the way.

The Collection

Many of the spots seen on the Retro Metro website, including those for Eckhardt Motors, APCO, First National Bank and Gold Spot Dairies, were award winners for the agency. In 1982, Spence joined in a partnership as Angell Bledsoe & Spence Advertising Agency and then eventually struck out on his own. Spence & Associates is still active today producing various video productions, including many of the Metropolitan Library’s author interviews and history videos which can be viewed on the library’s website or their YouTube channel.

The Spence Collection here on Retro Metro OKC represents just some of the items Spence has collected over the years. Most of the spots bear his mark; some are his work, a few are the work of the agencies he has worked with, but we are indebted to him for saving these items for future generations. Indeed, most clients represented here are now absorbed into national corporations, making these video reminders of them all the more cherished.

— Buddy Johnson
Scanning by the Retro Metro OKC Resources Committee