JUST AROUND THE CORNER

The intersection of Marsalis and Jefferson holds quite a bit of history

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Like the Hampton-Illinois corner featured in the October 2010 column, the intersection of Marsalis Avenue and Jefferson Boulevard holds volumes of Oak Cliff history. Last month’s story featured the beloved old Carnegie Library that once stood on the southwest corner. Here now, as promised, are the additional stories.

The now non-functioning triple bubblerhead fountain that remains on the corner was given to citizens of Oak Cliff, in 1915, by the Rev. George W. Owens. Erected at what was then called Library Plaza, the ornamental drinking fountain was a gift of gratitude for many kindnesses shown to Owens during his long and serious illness.

Two of the Oak Cliff Methodist Church’s most prominent members, one being T. L. Marsalis, disagreed about which street the church should face: Marsalis or Jefferson? Obviously a compromise, the building faces … the corner!

Born in 1852 in Alabama, Owens’ father died in the Civil War before his family moved to Texas in 1868, where the fatherless family picked cotton. Owens worked his way through school to become a circuit riding preacher and church founder for the Methodist Episcopal Church, eventually settling in Dallas. He helped organize Oak Cliff Methodist Church (across Jefferson Boulevard from the library) but also had a good head for entrepreneurship, later entering the lumber business. By the time of his 1918 death, George W. Owens & Son owned roughly 35 lumber outlets.

For many years Owens, who lived at 222 Lancaster Rd., was the financial agent for the Texas Christian Advocate, the state’s M.E. Church organization, and also served as president of the Texas Lumbermen’s Association. He became president of the Metropolitan

Street Railway Company (the South Belt line) in Dallas and served on the board of directors of the American Exchange National Bank. He donated the girl’s dormitory and dining room at Polytechnic College in Fort Worth and also developed a plan to assist deserving young men finance their college educations at Southern Methodist University, by lending tuition money. “The only security they need[ed] in getting the money is good character.”

Owens’ 1918 funeral was held at Oak Cliff Methodist Church.

On a negative note: The fountain’s three drinking heads sadly were marked “White Children,” “White Adults” and “Colored.”

Allen Melton (April 2013 column) told the story of meeting his wife at the old library and of her inviting him to church with her right across the street at Oak Cliff Methodist. Founded in 1887, the church’s basement rooms were built in 1912 and the sanctuary completed in 1915, but with a reported difference of opinion between two of the congregation’s most prominent members, one being T. L. Marsalis. It seems the two disagreed about which street the church should face: Marsalis or Jefferson? Obviously a compromise, the building faces the corner!

The October 2011 column mentioned the “Oak Cliff tamale man” who vendored on the same corner, in front of the library. Re- cently, while reading Rose-Mary Rumbley’s book “Dallas, Too: Stories I’m Telling Again, Because I Want to Hear Them Myself,” I stumbled across the following:

“Juan Rodriquez and his wife made the tasty, cornhusk-covered Mexican staples during the day, and Juan sold them at night. Hanging a lantern on his red tamale cart, Rodriquez enticed customers by opening the cart’s lid, allowing the steaming aroma to attract customers. He charged 15 cents per dozen, a price even Depression-era folks could afford.”

It was this same intersection where, in 1929, Bernard McGee stepped off the corner on his way to work and was hit by a drunk driver. McGee, who at the time worked for North Texas Interurban, never recovered well enough to return to his job but eventually opened a small hamburger stand across the street from the veterans’ hospital on South Lancaster Road. The McGee Family story is shared in the same October 2011 column as Juan Rodriquez, above.

This corner is now renamed Turner Plaza, in honor of Adella Turner (Mrs. E.P., as she was more widely known), who lived in Oak Cliff and served for decades as founder and president of numerous women’s organizations. A mother of four, Turner organized and led the Texas Federation of Women’s Club, the Standard Club, the Women’s Alliance and the Texas Women’s Forum, with most organizations emphasizing education and better living conditions for women and children. She also worked in the fine arts world, supported the WWI effort and campaigned for women’s suffrage.

After her death, Turner’s two living sons donated the four-story Victorian Turner home on Ewing Avenue (pictured on the wall at Norma’s Café) to the Oak Cliff Society of Fine Arts. However, when construction of I-35 E demanded the property, the society relocated to its current location on Rosemont Avenue and named its facility “Turner House.”

Turner (1856-1938) was one of the first two women elected to the Dallas School Board in 1908. Adelle (not Adella, her real name) Turner Elementary School, on South Polk Street, was named in her honor.

I miss the old library, as do many former and current Cliffites. Speaking for all of us, I wish the Old Oak Cliff Conservation League — and Michael Amonett — were around back in 1967. Another classic Oak Cliff building might still be standing. (I’ll bet we could also find someone to peddle tamales there, as well.) A good book, some warm Tex-Mex munchies and church on Sundays. Ah! If only …

Your Stories

Longtime Cliffites recount memories and reconnect on oakcliff.advocatemag.com/ backstory

When I was in elementary school, we went to the Marsalis library every summer Saturday. It was a ritual. In the morning we got on the bus at “Boundary” and rode Downtown. First stop was the DAC where we went swimming and had lunch — hot roast beef sandwiches! Those elderly waiters were so sweet and kind to us; usually we were the only people in the dining room. From there we walked to whatever movie was playing, and rode the bus home afterward. Of course, it was mandatory to get off at the Marsalis library. As little children we were allowed to check out 13 books, and you can bet we got 13 each week, and lugged them home on the bus. How we loved that basement library! Once in a while I would venture to the first floor. Besides the outside stairs, there was a little alcove inside with more stairs. Checked out “Joan Foster, Freshman.” There were many Joan Foster books, dreary in the extreme by today’s standards. —Jane

Little

Gayla Brooks can date her neighborhood heritage back to 1918, when her father was born in what was then called Eagle Ford. She was born at Methodist hospital and graduated from Kimball High School. Brooks is one of three co-authors of the recently published book, “Images of America: Oak Cliff”, and writes a monthly history column for the Oak Cliff Advocate. Send her feedback and ideas to gbrooks@advocatemag.com.

I remember going to the Oak Cliff library as a small child but also remember going to the library to work on high school projects, including the famous “senior paper.” I was in high school when I-35 opened through Oak Cliff. Mother would let me drive to the library to get the items I needed, but I was not supposed to get on I-35. I was to take the back roads. Well, you know the rest of the story … I would take I-35 but would never tell what I did. I-35 was quicker and I was able to drive faster.

—Raenell Horn Davis

I remember going to the library when my family moved here from New York in the early ’60s. Correct me if I am wrong, but I remember running my fingers over the plaques at the library fountain and wondering why there were separate ones for the different races. Thankfully, times have changed. —Laurie

Duran

In the ’50s, I remember a library that looked like a big house. (Or is that my childhood imagination?) Yes, I believe the children’s books were in the basement. The grounds had a large lawn and a large fountain surrounded by individual drinking fountains. Where was that?

—Penny Newman