Icon Ic o ak clI ff, the sequel

The neighborhood landmark tour makes a few more stops

Vintage landmarks in Oak Cliff are a source of pride and remembrance for those who formerly lived here and for those who reside here now. Some remain as standouts on the landscape. Others are fading ghosts.

Certainly one of the most unusual Oak Cliff landmarks is the 1 Merrifield Cemetery — a cemetery that contains a sum total of one tombstone.

The final resting place of family patriarch John Merrifield (1792-1873) and his second wife, Elizabeth (1802-1869), Merrifield came to the Lone Star State from Kentucky and purchased a large farm that included the current burial area. To add to the quirkiness of the situation, the cemetery is, basically, situated on the northwest corner of the Sunset High School campus. Now encased within a tall iron fence and featuring two historical markers, other family members are interred within, but only the graves of Merrifield and Elizabeth are marked.

It’s always interesting to sneak a peak at the single-tombstone “cemetery” every time I drive through the West Jefferson-Hampton intersection, and, like many others, mentally scratch my head. It’s just such an oddity, right there on such a busy corner in the middle of Oak Cliff. And adjacent to Sunset! Perhaps every Dallas high school campus should include a cemetery.

Traveling toward West Dallas, in the area now known as Pinnacle Park (previously Cement City), the former 2 Eagle Ford District 49 School on Chalk Hill Road still stands, vacant and boarded-up. Currently on one of the Old Oak Cliff Conservation League’s list of endangered buildings, this structure holds the rooms and hallways where a notorious gun maul and former FBI target first honed her skills for writing poetry: Miss Bonnie Parker.

The school’s construction reflects the former community’s pride, with its 14- to 16-inch-thick walls tailored with two layers of cement bricks and a 6-inch layer of cement mortar in between. The 5-inch-thick roof is made of steel-reinforced cement and was, like the bricks and mortar, gleaned from local quarries. The 4,000-square-foot building shows a “boys” entrance on the north and a “girls” entrance on the south, each with its own staircase, and the auditorium behind the entrances. According to the Old Oak Cliff Conservation League, one of Parker’s report cards was discovered in the school’s basement.

Nibbling on the edge of Lake Cliff Park, Frank Reaugh’s former art studio, 3 El Sibil (The Vault), is perched high on the southwest corner of Crawford and East Fifth — the studio where Reaugh would produce many of the pieces that garnered him the title of “Dean of Texas Artists” and

“Painter to the Longhorns.” When Reaugh first settled here, the pastoral landscape of that day provided the horses and cattle Reaugh needed — the “models” for his paintings and sketches. El Sibil signified the early Oak Cliff artist’s commitment to create his paintings right here in the Cliff. Additionally, Reaugh (1860-1945) joined other 1920s citizens in founding the Dallas Art Association, now the Dallas Museum of Art.

Although El Sibil fell into disrepair after Reaugh’s death and eventually burned, the stone structure has been rebuilt and now lives again as an art and photography studio/party rental/music venue while retaining much of its mysterious and shadowy aura.

Our final stop today is the lower floor make

OAKCLIFF.ADVOCATEMAG.COM/BACKSTORY

of the Bavarian-themed building on the corner of West Davis and Edgefield, a location that reigned for years as 4 Schindler’s Bakery

Along with Jan’s Bakery in Wynnewood Village, Schindler’s was one of the main spots where Cliffites purchased cookies, pies, cakes and other pastries. Most every boomer kid in Oak Cliff who had a “store-bought” birthday cake in the ’50s and ’60s got it from either Jan’s or Schindler’s. My favorite from Schindler’s were the little chocolate drop cookies, along with the actual trip inside the vintage bakery — enough to transport me back to a bygone time and to remind me of my parents and all their wonderful Depression-era friends. The aging chalet-style building is now partially vacant and looks a bit tired. Quite a change from the bustling days when finding a parking spot in front was always a challenge.

I could use one of those cookies about now. And a big glass of milk. The tour bus is pulling into the depot for this month but will make its final run in August. Until then, I’ll keep the motor running and the Oak Cliff map on my desk. I do see a few more stops on the list.

Longtime Cliffites recount memories and reconnect on oakcliff.advocatemag. com/backstory. Last month, Kokel sparked conversation about Oak Cliff landmarks.

When I was about 5, my Dad had a post-office box at the downtown post office. So when he needed to go pick up his mail we’d make a trip of it. We’d all load up in the family car and head downtown via Zangs. If we had behaved, on the trip back we’d stop at Polar Bear Ice Cream or the orange juice stand next door. I think there was also a watermelon place close by with picnic tables that would sell you a slice of cold melon for a hot summer night. This was before most cars had air conditioning.

—Charlie Goff

I almost forgot about the orange juice place! My hubby has mentioned this several times over the years. When we first got married, we would go by the orange juice place and buy a gallon of it because it was so good, and for a young married couple with no extra money to spend, we could afford this great juice. I remember that they included the peel in the juice. I could not believe that it tasted so good with the peel included. It was like dessert; it was so good and so cold! —Bunnyroom

Gayla Brooks Kokel 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. Kokel 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 gkokel@advocatemag.com.