A few months back, the flowing hemline of
a famous, ankle-length black trench coat
rustled against the Strand’s historic brick
pavers for the last time. Its wearer left
much more quietly than he arrived almost
25 years ago, but the impact his business
made on the island is calculable and by
all estimations, as eternal as the spirits it
The tears that involuntarily erupt as his
mentee speaks of his incredible artwork,
an emotion so powerful that it overtakes
his son, and the kind and reverent words
of his former wife—these are not the
complete sum of what local artist and
icon Jack Morris left behind when he
succumbed to COPD last year, but they do
paint a picture that perhaps not even Jack
could have captured.
The women’s suffrage movement is often distilled
to one date—August 18, 1920, the day the United
States Congress ratified the 19th Amendment
to the Constitution. But this monumental day was the
culmination of nearly fifty years of activism, protests,
campaigns, letter-writing, parades, and any other
demonstration women could muster to make their voices
heard. And counted.
In a city such as Galveston where both the written history
and historical architecture exude the cultural influences
of the Victorian Era, a certain portraiture of women from
this time emerges - demure, obedient, perfectly coifed, and
frilled from neck to wrist and ankle.
However, the efforts of the Women’s Health Protective
Association (WHPA, 1900-1924) paint an entirely different
picture. Although these women were undoubtedly
immaculate in appearance, their modest wardrobes of floorlength
day dresses belie a willingness to cohort in unseemly
places and take on tasks that would make any person
cautious or queasy.
Most little boys dream of adventure - being a policeman, a star athlete, racing motorcycles, being a fireman or a hero. One immigrant found all of this excitement and more in Galveston in the 1900s.
If you think some of the names we hear today are unusual,
you might be surprised to learn it is nothing new. Imagine
going through life with the given name of “Quarantine.” A
member of one of Galveston’s most well-known families in
the late 1800s did, preferring to be addressed by his full first
name rather than shortened versions or nicknames.
In any language, there is a short list of specific words
that are reserved for the direst situations. They’re as
powerful and as frightening as weapons. The words
“Fire!” and “Snake!” will trigger instant panic and
clear a room or an area in an instant. During the Civil
War, no phrase inspired as much fear as “The Yankees
are coming!” The word “hurricane” still sends
everyone packing. In 1867, that list of words reserved
for the scariest of circumstances included another
terrifying phrase at the very top: “Yellow Jack.”
If you own or rent property, have a vehicle or
boat, are a builder or have lived on Galveston
Island for any period of time, you undoubtedly
know the name Henry Freudenburg. For more
than five decades, the man behind the Henry
Freudenburg Insurance Agency, Inc. has been helping
his community weather the ups and downs of life,
helping to provide a safety net, and build for the
future through a genuine dedication to serve and a
firm commitment to competitive and fair rates.
Galveston author Kimber Fountain’s genuine love for the island is as strong as the 10-mile long seawall that protects the city from nature’s wrath. The Texas Gulf Coast native has expressed the bond she feels with the island and its storied past in the pages of two books that pay homage to the area: Galveston Seawall Chronicles (2017), and Galveston’s Red Light District: A History of the Line (2018).
Founded by John Egert, Sr., the firm was responsible for elevating numerous residences and public buildings on the island during the post-1900 Storm grade raising project. These items were acquired through the estate of Eva Fritiofson, a descendent of the Egert Family.
Most Galvestonians are familiar with the story of Dr. Isaac Cline, the meteorologist who headed the Island’s weather office during the 1900 Storm. As famous as that chapter of this life was, few know what became of him afterward.