Mourning the Loss of the Ambassador Hotel


By now, many of you have seen the devastating news that our nearest neighbor, the Ambassador Hotel, burned to the ground last night. It cannot be salvaged. This building has been a part of our historic landscape for well over a century. It loomed over our grounds, giving visitors another reminder of what the Cedars neighborhood once looked like.

When the hotel was built in 1904, our properties were connected. For a period, it was known as the Park Hotel because of its adjacency. There are many, many stories of the people that lived or stayed at the hotel. One of my favorites was meeting someone at a public lecture whose grandmother lived at the Ambassador in the 1920s—and courted her future grandfather by walking through City Park. OCP’s very first director lived in an apartment at the Ambassador, and board members remember fixing up his rooms.

We were thrilled when Jim Lake Jr. bought the Ambassador in 2014. The Lake family also has a long connection to OCP, as his mother Barbara was part of our founding generation of volunteers. Jim loves historic buildings as much as we do, and we were eagerly awaiting this building’s next chapter. In fact, members of OCP got a tour of the Ambassador about two weeks ago—we were perhaps the last members of the “public” to be inside this iconic structure.

We are incredibly grateful to the Dallas Fire Department for proactively spraying the Farmstead and Blacksmith Shed down last night. With the quantity of cinders and ash covering the Farmstead this morning, we know Dallas could easily have lost more historic structures last night. The sheep and chickens that live at the Farmstead are also safe.

We are closed today, as access to our western side of the museum is very difficult. We will make a decision about tomorrow later. Smoke still lingers in the air. And soon, they’ll be bringing the walls down. The next time you visit OCP, we will definitely look a little different.

Today, we mourn with our neighbors the loss of this great building. It will take some time for us to get over this loss.

Melissa Prycer Executive Director and President
More on this loss: “There will be no salvage” Dallas News

Remembering Tuck

 

Tuck, age 22, ambassador and mascot of Old City Park, passed away peacefully on January 17, 2019. He was surrounded by his OCP family and brother, Nip.

Tuck was born in 1996 and arrived at Old City Park (then known as Old City Park) with his half-brother Nip in 2000 as part of an expanded living history program. Tuck quickly became an integral part of the OCP experience, pulling the carriage for visitors, cheerfully accepting nose scratches, posing for pictures, and gobbling any and all treats. He was well known for occasionally nibbling on fabric, particularly scarves, and letting Nip do most of the work in pulling the wagon.

In recent years, Tuck developed arthritis in his knees and retired from active duty in 2015. When Waylon and Willie arrived in 2016, Tuck helped train them for their public relations duties.

Tuck is survived by his brother Nip, nephews Willie and Waylon, his handler Bonnie Cooley, and all the staff, volunteers, and visitors that loved him over the years. In lieu of carrots, memorial donations can be made to OCP’s wagon restoration fund.  https://www.dallasheritagevillage.org/supporters/donate-now

We have shared some of our favorite photos and memories of Tuck on our Facebook page, and we invite you to share yours as well. #tuckdhv

Zelda: The Curatorial Truck

Blog post by our Curator, Dr. Evelyn Montgomery.

Allow me to introduce a key member of the OCP curatorial department-Zelda, my Dodge Ram.  Some people think that being a curator must be a glamorous job-and it probably is if you work for the Guggenheim, but I work in a historical village. Among my qualifications, I have a doctorate, shelves full of books, and a talent for public speaking, but more importantly, I have a miter saw, painting experience, a hammer, and Zelda.

Zelda had every reason to expect the easy life of an urban truck when sold to someone living a mile from downtown Dallas. She was soon disabused of that notion. OCP is Dallas’ only downtown working farm, and every farm needs a farm truck. Zelda has hauled hay and countless 50-pound bags of feed for assorted farm animals. She has pulled an animal trailer with a reluctant donkey making a guest appearance at Plano Heritage Farmstead, and hauled six protesting sheep. At that point she began to question the course of her career and considered getting her real estate license.

But then there is the carpentry work. Who else could fetch plywood and 2 by 4s? Landscape timbers and concrete blocks? Something always needs to be fixed around here. And we have gardens! Did you know you can buy quality garden soil by the half-ton, which a giant bull dozer will drop into your cowering truck? For trimming a tall branch, a ladder is insecure. I prefer to stand safely on the roof of Zelda’s cab, the branches falling on her hood while my feet leave permanent indentions in her metal.

Surely working with the artifacts makes up for all this other work? Why yes, there is nothing more exciting than carrying a new pump organ back to the village. Learned the hard way to tie it securely because if it slides sideways so does the truck. Zelda and I were guests at the Dallas Women’s Club when we brought a painting to display at a meeting. I got lunch, Zelda got to be valet parked next to a Lexus. Sometimes we come home with historical treasures, and how many pick-ups can say they preserve history for future generations?

All members of our curatorial department-me, Zelda, our Collections Manager Susan and Tom the Curatorial Cat-have multi-faceted jobs at a museum where a dozen different things are always going on. I have grown gray in the museum’s employ, and Zelda has grown dented. Susan and Tom still look good. All of us would rather work here than the finest fancy museum with complete maintenance and repair staffs. I love this place enough to hit it with a hammer when needed, and Zelda is ready to keep on trucking. Ram tough!

Note to Fiat Chrysler Automobiles, proud manufacturer of Zelda: we have sponsorship opportunities available. Call soon.

 

Know a good sheep looking for work?

 

 

A Post by Evelyn Montgomery:

Image

“Our sheep enjoy spacious accommodations and wonderful view of the Dallas skyline.”

The flock at Old City Park needs a new member. The current ovine (Google it and use it daily until it feels natural) population consists of two chubby Southdowns, Winston and Starbuck, and one aged Rambouillet, MayBelle. They would love to welcome a new, younger sheep to share their home at the farmstead of a nationally accredited museum in the heart of the fashionable Cedars neighborhood. This is an offer no sheep could refuse.

The museum would not be able to pay for this new sheep, but would be happy to give you a letter acknowledging your donation to a registered non-profit, which the IRS would enjoy reading. Perhaps you are a breeder with a sheep that’s hard to sell? We don’t need perfection, just wool and the ability to demonstrate grazing for our visitors. Have you raised a nice sheep for Future Farmers of America or 4H, and would like to see your friend find a safe home and useful employment? We offer the following:

A fulfilling career-As museum educators, our sheep instruct 25,000 school children each year. They demonstrate sheep behavior, grow wool, perform charming vocalizations and eat grass in full view of the public. They are the first sheep most of these city kids have ever seen.

Become a celebrity-Each spring, your sheep will star in our annual Girl Scout Day, called Plow, Plant and Shear. Sheep are not expected to plow or plant, but to demonstrate the first step in wool processing.

Full medical benefits-It was not easy to find a large animal vet willing to treat patients in downtown Dallas, but Dr. Christine Kessler provides loving care to our donkeys and sheep. All of our animals live out their natural lifespan here. We have been known to harbor geriatric chickens, and MayBelle may well be the oldest living sheep in Dallas County.

Free housing-The flock enjoys their own barn and fenced pasture at the farmstead. Grass grows abundantly for most of the year, particularly on the compost pile, which the sheep enjoy climbing for exercise.

The ideal candidate for this position should be a heritage breed, available in Texas by 1900. Old City Park is an equal opportunity employer, but we must discriminate against rams for this position, preferring ewes or wethers. Since our farmstead specializes in demonstrating the production of wool rather than mutton, we prefer a breed known for its ability tor grow that traditional textile product rather than a meat breed. Cute is great, friendly is better, and ability to get along well with Winston, Starbuck and MayBelle is a must. If you have the perfect sheep for us, please contact Evelyn at emontgomery@oldcityparkdallas.org.

Following Frank Reaugh: A Preview

Guest Post by Michael Duty, OCP volunteer and art sale coordinator

In the early 1880s, cattlemen brothers Frank and Romie Houston invited a young artist from Terrell to join them on a cattle drive just south of the Wichita River near Wichita Falls (which at the time was hardly more than a water stop on the Fort Worth and Denver rail route). The round up proved to be a pivotal experience for budding artist, Frank Reaugh. He had only recently moved from Illinois with his parents to a cotton farm in the fertile bottom land just thirty miles from Dallas. While his parents worked the land, Reaugh set about honing his natural artistic skills by copying the paintings he found as illustrations in magazines and the pictures of animals that he found in the works of naturalists Louis Agassiz and John Burroughs. He had a talent for drawing, an interest in the natural world, and the ability to record the nuances of light, color, and shadow that he observed on the Texas prairie.

His time in the saddle with the Houston brothers introduced him to the two subjects that would dominate much of his long artistic career, the Texas longhorn and the Texas landscape. Even after he completed studies at the School of Fine Arts in St. Louis and the Academie Julien in Paris, he returned to those two subjects for the rest of his life and he mastered their depiction in oils and pastels like few other artists who came either before or after him.

He also came back to Texas and stayed there, moving to Dallas in 1890, where he quickly established himself as a leading figure on both the local and state art scene. Along with his father he built a studio in the backyard of the family’s home in Oak Cliff and christened it “The Iron Shed.” He later built a more elaborate studio called “El Sibil.” From those two Dallas vantage points, Reaugh produced over 7,000 paintings and drawings in a career that stretched over five decades.

During that time, Reaugh’s work was widely exhibited throughout the country at prestigious art shows and museums. He was also an influential teacher and helped guide the careers of several noted Dallas artists, including Reveau Bassett, Olin Travis, Alexandre Hogue, and Florence McClung. He led annual painting trips to the farthest reaches of West Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. He helped establish the organization that eventually became the Dallas Museum of Art and was a champion of the Dallas art scene until his death in 1945.

Today, Reaugh’s works are preserved in several museum collections. The two major repositories of his works are the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum in Canyon and the Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas in Austin, which houses perhaps his most famous and accomplished series of paintings—seven large pastels titled, “24 Hours with the Herd.” Although painted in the 1930s, the series had its genesis in those early round ups along the Wichita River in his very earliest days as an artist.

In recent years, Reaugh’s career has continued to receive critical attention through museum exhibitions and publications. His works are highly sought after by collectors and a few of his oils have fetched auction prices in the six figures. He also continues to influence new generations of artists who venture into the Texas countryside to paint.

Many of those artists will participate in a program at Old City Park designed to pay homage to Reaugh as an artist and teacher. “Following Frank Reaugh: A Celebration of Plein Air Painting,” and art exhibition and sale, will be held at OCP October 3-5. Entries are currently being accepted for the sale which will be restricted to plein air works. Any artist interested in participating can find the details by visiting www.onlinejuriedshows.com. The featured artist for the event will be Lindy Severns, an award winning artist from Fort Davis, who like Reaugh, specializes in pastels to capture the beauty of the Texas landscape. The weekend will feature a number of programs and activities in addition to the art sale.

Artists are invited to paint in the Park and you may see a few working behind their easels on your next visit to the museum. If you do, take a moment to visit with them and come back in October to see the finished works.

Boom!

Thursday, June 2 was an explosive day at Old City Park. For the first time ever, the Curatorial department disposed of an antique from our collection by blowing it up, with the help of the Dallas Police Department’s bomb squad.

There was no act of terrorism or other criminal threat, just a dangerous chemical legacy from the past. The artifact was a brown glass bottle that once contained liquid picric acid. Doctors and dentists used this around 1900 for medical purposes, particularly to treat burns. Liquid picric acid is poisonous, but that would not be enough to scare a history curator. Collections of historic artifacts can contain many dangerous things, including medical artifacts. Many early medicines were substances that, technically speaking, were poisons, but in very small doses could be beneficial. Even strychnine has its uses as a nerve stimulant, but I wouldn’t try to self medicate with it. I am thankful not to be a curator at a museum that covers the world wars, as they all have stories about opening a box and finding a live grenade, but my picric acid scare was almost as alarming

While I am always on the watch for dangerous substances in our collection, I had never heard of any problem with picric acid. To be honest, I had never heard of picric acid and I would wager you haven’t either. That Thursday, an email arrived from a curator’s list-serv. It warned that when picric acid gets old, it can turn into crystals, and they are explosive. I have a database with information about all 24,000 artifacts in our collection. So I searched for “picric.” And lo and behold, turned up a record for a six-inch tall brown glass bottle “full of whitish crystals,” that had been sitting on a shelf in my warehouse since 1981.

So I went out to the warehouse and looked through the 30 of so bottles on that shelf until I found it. Then I carried it to a table in our workroom for examination and told my assistant, “I think I’ll call the fire department.”

They didn’t exactly panic when I described my find. I don’t suppose they do panic much. They said they would give me a call back if there was anything to worry about. There was. They called and said they were on their way with a fire truck and the bomb squad.

When they arrived, I showed them the bottle and we asked how much of a pop that amount of picric acid might make. The answer was, enough to blow your hand off. That little bottle! The one I just carried in my own little hand! They also mentioned it is an unstable explosive, so it doesn’t need a detonator or fire to set it off. It could be set off by something as simple as a change in temperature. We evacuated the warehouse by scurrying out the door.

The bomb experts took over. A brave man donned what looked like a bulletproof vest and a protective helmet with a face shield. He grabbed a long metal pole with a pincer clamp at the end and entered the warehouse. And we all waited for what seemed like several minutes until he slowly backed out with the historic bottle clasped at the end of the pole.

The bomb squad has a special trailer with a metal box to safely transport explosives to a field where they can be detonated. But we have our own field, the overflow parking area in back of my warehouse. The man with the pole slowly carried the bottle across the field and deposited it in a hole the firefighters had dug. He attached a small detonator with a timer. They alerted the 911 operators and closed the street near the field. I finally thought to grab my camera and pointed it at the hole in the field.

So why don’t I have a good picture of the explosion? Because it was so much louder than expected that I jumped and my picture is a psychedelic image created as the lens zoomed up past a tree toward the sky. I missed the whole explosion!

Now the excitement is over, and there is nothing left to do but update the database record for this artifact, to explain why the museum no longer has it. Usually I write that the artifact was stolen from a building, or that it became so decrepit I had to throw it away. “Exploded by bomb squad” will be a first.

You need not fear visiting the museum, not even the doctor’s office, where many old medicine bottles are displayed. We thoroughly searched them to verify that there is no more picric acid. From the day we started accepting medical artifacts, curators have been on the lookout for dangerous substances and disposed of them appropriately.  The only dangerous thing in our doctor’s office is Alice, the skeleton, and she hardly ever attacks visitors anymore.