2790 Chapters
Medium 9781574411393

2. Exodus

Stanley Marcus University of North Texas Press PDF

11, 1913, a devastating fire destroyed the Neiman-Marcus store, five and a half years after it had opened. I had just returned from Sunday school and was greeted by my mother, "The store has just burned down." We took the streetcar to town to meet the family, which had gathered there as in a wake, mourning the total loss of what had been The Store.

The next day the partners counted up the monies that would be coming in from the insurance, took stock of their savings, canvassed the family for additional funds, and decided that they would rebuild in a different location. It would take time to find the proper site, so they leased temporary quarters and fixtures and dispatched the buyers to New York to buy new stocks of merchandise. In seventeen days they reopened for business. My father, who still wrote the advertisements, had this to say: "Rather pretty temporary home, comfortable and cool; clean, with good air circulating around and around; refreshing roominess."

As long as they were forced to move, the partners decided to be venturesome by going "uptown," opposite Titche-Goettillger's department store and seven long blocks from Sanger's. Dad, the

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Medium 9781574413496

Chapter 5. Deputy Sheriff Dick Townsend (April 3, 1886)

Richard F. Selcer and Kevin S. Foster University of North Texas Press Denton, Texas ePub



April 3, 1886

“Massacre” at Buttermilk Junction

April 3, 1886, was the single bloodiest day in Fort Worth law enforcement history. Three officers were shot down, one of whom died. The injuries of the others certainly shortened their lives. The fact that the “enemy” was the Knights of Labor, not a gang of criminals, and that the three officers were working as hired guns for Jay Gould’s Missouri Pacific Railroad, does not change the fact they were duly commissioned peace officers shot in the line of duty.

The railroad strike that erupted in Texas in the spring of 1886 involved every law enforcement agency in the state before it was over. Fort Worth was one of the centers of the maelstrom that sucked in both big and small fish: Marshal Bill Rea, Sheriff Walter Maddox, and “Longhair Jim” Courtright were some of the big fish; Dick Townsend was one of the small fry.1

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Medium 9780253346988

4. The Invisible Pass

Abraham Aamidor Indiana University Press ePub

The Great Depression spelled doom for some, opportunity for others. For Chuck Taylor, it was the time of his life. Marquis Converse had lost his company in 1928 after it went into receivership. The company’s failure was linked to an ill-fated effort to market an automobile tire, the “Converse Cord,” which had high production costs, a high failure rate, and many returns from local dealers.

Mitchell B. Kaufman, president and owner of the Hodgman Rubber Co. in Framingham, Massachusetts, bought the firm in 1929, but he sold it to the Stone family—Joseph, Harry K., and Dewey D. Stone—in 1933. The Stone family ran the business for the next thirty-nine years, but in spirit, and in the public’s mind, it was to be Chuck Taylor’s company from then on.

Chuck’s secret was in sales and promotion. Years of touring with the Converse All-Stars basketball squad, making “special appearances” on local hoops teams and glad-handing customers in small-town sporting goods stores, plus his growing number of basketball clinics, were making Chuck a celebrity, albeit a faux celebrity. Converse revamped everything beginning in 1932 to revolve around their new star. The annual Converse Basketball Yearbook, begun in 1922 and enlarged and expanded in 1929, soon began promoting Chuck’s clinics, complete with endorsements from top coaches of the day. Beginning in 1932, Chuck’s name was added to the ankle patch of the All Star shoe for the first time. His well-regarded College All-American picks began that year as well, next to a smiling mug shot that was to become a signature piece over the years. As if to an increasing drumbeat, Chuck was exclusively touted as a veteran of the great pre–modern era basketball teams, as well as an authority who personally knew the top coaches and best players across the country.

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11. Berlin-Unbekannt/Berlin-Unknown

Peter Wortsman Travelers' Tales ePub

“There is nothing in this world as invisible as a monument.”

—Robert Musil

IF THE FAMOUS GERMAN PUZZLE MANUFACTURER Ravensburger—a name that my eye falsely confuses with the notorious women’s concentration camp, Ravensbrück, ninety kilometers north of Berlin—had to come up with a several-thousand-piece puzzle representative of Berlin, they’d be hard-pressed to find an appropriate image.

Should the fragmented picture made for patient and assiduous reassembly be a view of the Brandenburg Gate, symbol of the reunified city, or a wintry vista of the Wannsee Conference Center covered with snow?

The rebuilt Reichstag, or a telling ruin like the husk of the Kunsthaus Tacheles—the abandoned department store-turned arts center on Oranienburger Strasse liberated by dissident young East German revelers who named it for the Yiddish notion of “tachlis,” or “brass tacks”—already being eyed by realtors for demolition?

Should the puzzle represent the Berlin Wall, 1) under construction, 2) scaled by would-be escapees, some caught in the crosshairs of history, 3) stormed by demonstrators with sledgehammers, 4) that segment covered today with satirical tableaux of internationally recognized graffiti artists and dubbed East Side Gallery, or 5) all of the above?

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Medium 9781574412376

six: “Remember how I lived my life, Rose”

William and Rosalie Schiff and Craig Hanley University of North Texas Press PDF

chapter six

“Remember how I lived my life, Rose”

It’s four in the morning at Camp Skarzysko. Rosalie sleeps with two other women on a bottom bunk shelf. During the winter of 1944 shared body warmth has been a lifesaver in the drafty barrack. Mania sleeps on one side of Rosalie and their friend sleeps on the other. Lately a bad case of dysentery has kept this girl running to the latrine.

At four in the morning Rosalie wakes up and senses something real wrong. Both she and the sick girl sleep on their right sides and as usual she can feel knees against the back of her thighs. But the body behind her isn’t making breathing noises. Not wanting to acknowledge this, she does nothing.

There’s no point in rushing the inevitable. The two hours will fly by before they must carry their friend out and set her in the dirt by the door where strangers will strip off her clothes.

In the bunk for those two hours at least the dead woman will retain a little dignity.

When the wake-up bell sounds Rosalie helps move the body through the door while Mania falls to pieces. She tries not to look at the gaping mouth and unblinking eyes. During months of loading her body cart she has seen hundreds of

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