Dreaming of planning a winter honeymoon? How about a choice like Sun Valley, Idaho, where many expert Texan skiers can be found, according to our intrepid traveler Lori Duran. Here she shares her five-star experience for a quick jaunt that will have you wanting to be on the slopes again soon.

Photography by Hillary Maybery. Courtesy of Visit Sun Valley and Sun Valley Resort

You don’t have to be an advanced skier to enjoy the fun and atmosphere this site offers because it has a variety of terrain, a vibrant après-ski scene, well-appointed ski lodges, and plenty to do on and off the slopes. Sun Valley skiing truly offers something for everyone.

The unforgettable Sun Valley Ski Resort opened in 1936 and now has more than 75 ski runs across over 2,000-plus skiable acres, ranging from beginner-friendly (Dollar Mountain) to experienced-only. Bald Mountain (aka Baldy), their big-time mountain, boasts perfect-pitch vertical from peak to base. It has the perfect downhill pitch on a variety of terrain. Overall, Baldy is a fun mountain with lots of variety of slopes and it’s not crowded. So, the lift lines move quickly. It has a great variety of terrain suitable for a wide variety of skiing. The snow conditions are usually pretty good with dry powder. Dollar Mountain is a good place to learn how to ski, It is served by four chair lifts: Dollar, Half Dollar, Quarter Dollar, and Elkhorn. For the novice, the Half and Quarter lifts can be appreciated. Fun fact: Sun Valley was the home of the world’s very first chair lift.

Arriving in Sun Valley for the first time, I was immediately attracted to the artful culture and the naturally scenic landscape. Ketchum, the quintessential Sun Valley town, is about one and a half miles from the Sun Valley Ski Resort. The town is known for its diverse art scene and its art galleries, all conveniently located within blocks of each other.

Ketchum and Sun Valley are located within the Central Idaho Dark Sky Reserve. So, after the sun sets in the valley, grab some hot cocoa and maybe a telescope and look directly up at the sky. Sun Valley visitors can always enjoy dramatic scenery along with its sunny, low-humidity, mountain climate.

There’s no doubt Ketchum’s naturally rugged landscape has always attracted attention. Some celebrity residents including Bruce Willis, Demi Moore, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and even Ernest Hemingway enjoyed living there. Hemingway spent much of the few years of his life there and the Sun Valley Heritage and Ski Museum has artifacts of his including photographs, letters, artifacts, and his yes, typewriter.

The Sun Valley Lodge has long been a well-known hot spot and is still a great place to stay, along with its sister property Sun Valley Inn, even after 87 years. When Hemingway moved to Sun Valley in the mid-20th century, he first made his home in Room 206 (now 228) of the Lodge. If you stay at Knob Hill Inn in Ketchum, you’ll be in the mountains and within a 10-minute walk of Sun Valley Museum of Art and Gail Severn Gallery. I enjoyed staying at Pennay’s River Run Condominiums, which is just a short walk from the slopes and River Run Ski Resort, and I loved their complimentary snowmobile ride.

Hemingway was known for his love of good food and drink. And that was no different for him in Sun Valley. The Pioneer Saloon, Michel’s Christiania, and the Sawtooth Club, which he frequented, are still in business today. The Pioneer Saloon has one of Hemingway’s guns, a 21 twelve-gauge shotgun, hanging on their wall amongst other historical and interesting artifacts along the walls. It’s an eatery that doubles as a must-see museum. The Grill at Knob Hill, Warfield Distillery, the Sun Valley Club, Barrio75, and Enoteca are other Ketchum favorites of mine. Whenever you choose to visit, Sun Valley is always a perfect choice.



The famed Cadillac Bar in Nuevo Laredo holds special memories in the hearts of so many Texans. A destination of its era, the nostalgia for the fabled Mexican bar and restaurant lives on, according to our Texas pop culture chronicler, Lori Duran.


I can still remember stepping into the venerable Cadillac Bar. The spacious interior was both casual and refined. Everywhere I looked, besuited waiters were attending to every table. The food coming out of the kitchen looked heavenly. And the enthusiasm of the clientele was palpable. We had driven from Corpus Christi to Laredo, parked our car at the shopping mall on the border, and simply walked across the international bridge into Nuevo Laredo, Mexico. It was an easy walk and I have such fond memories to this day.


Wanda Garner Cash, the granddaughter of the original owners, also shares her insight, from her new book, Pancho Villa’s Saddle at the Cadillac Bar: Recipes & Memories. “The Cadillac was a special place that served exotic food and cocktails in a comfortable atmosphere,” says Cash. “It was unlike anything else. Prohibition in the U.S. had brought about the creation of this legendary watering hole. Maybe we thought it would last forever. Unfortunately, Mexico was not altogether business-friendly. And the Cadillac weathered storms and changed hands by the time it finally closed 11 years ago.”


It all started with Mayo Bessan, an ambitious bartender and waiter in New Orleans. Bessan worked at several establishments, including Henry Ramos’s renowned Imperial Cabinet. In 1920, Bessan’s career was halted with Prohibition in the U.S. And just a couple of years later, he left his honeymoon early to travel to Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, to seek opportunities for life and livelihood. The city appealed to him since business was booming on both sides of the border. Bessan and his wife eagerly moved there, and he took his southern Louisiana recipes with him.

The 1920s brought prosperity to Laredo and Nuevo Laredo, especially as Prohibition hung over the landscape and attracted visitors south of the border to wet their whistles. Laredo, then known as the Queen City of the Rio Grande, was a major port of entry for goods coming into the U.S. Bessan saw this as an opportunity. In 1926, he opened a genteel drinking hole and restaurant in Nuevo Laredo, titling it with the rich-sounding name, Cadillac Bar, formerly known as Cabello Blanco (White Horse). Bessan hoped the elevated name would lure respectable Texans inside. Did it ever. Instantly. The customers came, all dressed to the nines, by bus, car, train, and airplane. Bessan infused the menu with Creole flavors and lured his buddies from south Louisiana to be the cooks. The Louisiana friends also organized a gambling operation in the backroom since it was legal in Mexico.  


The establishment offered nice cocktails, as they were touted then, which would become an understatement with its future reputation. Meanwhile, the kitchen offered seafood and delicious sauces, and things went well as the social headquarters among the sprawling, arid landscape of South Texas into Mexico. Business was profitable, even during the lean depression years in the U.S., which was then followed by an economic downturn in Mexico. But, Americans would pay for good food and drinks despite the tough times. For more than half a century, Bessan’s restaurant attracted notables, politicians, and ranchers as well as plenty of tourists who would come to shop and eat in Nuevo Laredo and stay at the gracious La Posada hotel in Laredo.

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The Cadillacs famed drink, the Ramos Gin Fizz, was a frothy concoction that Bessan learned to make in New Orleans and taught his bartenders to replicate. The notoriously labor-intensive drink requires a plethora of shaking, but it was worth the effort because it quickly became a customer favorite. In 1949, the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans contested Bessan’s use of the Ramos Gin Fizz title because the Roosevelt’s owners had trademarked it in 1935. So, the Cadillac changed the name to New Orleans Fizz, but everyone knew its pedigree. The food menu included Louisiana specialties such as shrimp gumbo, grilled quail, frog legs, and turtle soup. It also featured TexMex favorites such as guacamole and enchiladas and plenty of mouth-watering frosty margaritas when a gin drink wouldn’t do. With the respected bar and cuisine, linen tablecloths, and impeccable service, the Cadillac was a popular destination along the border.

The Cadillac had a broad following, from Texas Jet-Setters to shoppers lured by the silver jewelry and pottery. Beyond the city on nearby leases, hunters were beckoned by dove, deer, and quail. “It was my father, Epitacio R. Resendez III (1928-1991), who used to call The Cadillac Bar his office and would actually give out their phone number 2-00-15 as his own,” says San Antonio and Laredo resident, Epitacio R. Resendez IV. “He would always be at the corner of the long bar to be close to the phone, since most calls were for him anyway.” Even though the Cadillac bar was a celebrity in its own right, in 1952, Marlon Brando and Anthony Quinn visited when they were filming Viva Zapata! about the legendary Mexican revolutionary of the region, Emiliano Zapata.


Perhaps it was the atmosphere and Mexican folklore that so many loved. Regular patrons had their usual waiters, whom they knew on a first-name basis. Outfitted in white jackets and black bowties, servers made sure that drinks were already arriving at the patron’s table by the time they sat down. Now that’s service. The atmosphere was enhanced by the décor. The Cadillac kept a saddle on display that once belonged to Pancho Villa, which survived a devasting flood in 1954 that affected much of the region.


Natural disasters aside, Mayo Bessan died in 1969, and his son-in-law Porter Garner continued the Cadillac for the next ten years. In 1979, Garner turned it over to the employees as he had grown tired of dealing with the Mexican government and the unions. Reportedly crooked bureaucrats demanded multiple payments to renew their license, and annual taxes were based on the single best weekend each year, and everything was taxed. The Garners took their family treasures, including Pancho Villa’s saddle, and left. The South Texas-based Longoria family, Ramon Salido Longoria, bought the Cadillac in 1980.

In 1991, reportedly, a Longoria family feud split the establishment effectively in two. One of them renamed the original site as the El Dorado. While another Longoria, with his partners, took the Cadillac Bar name and moved it to a new location. In the 2000s, business started slipping as violence broke out among the drug cartels in the area. Within a few years, the violence escalated, and tourism slowed tremendously in the vibrant border town. The New York Times had once called the Cadillac “The best run and most delightful watering hole” on the U.S. and Mexico border. But by the early 2000s, the drinks were still being poured even though the throngs of visitors slowed to a slow stream. The El Dorado struggled until 2010 when it closed. In the end, the famed institution had few customers brave enough to visit. The same cartel violence also claimed some of Nuevo Laredo’s beloved shopping sites.

The legendary establishment is gone, as are those carefree trips across the border. But the Cadillac food, drinks, and reputation created a powerful lure that inspired others in the tourist-dependent area. In 1977, George Jackson and partners opened their version of the Cadillac in Houston. By 2016, Houstonian Tilman Fertitta owned four Cadillac Bar locations in Las Vegas, Houston, Kemah, and Lake Charles. There were also separately owned Cadillac Bars in San Antonio and San Francisco. These outposts had similarities with the original, but they could never match it. The original, as in most cases, is usually the best.

Recently, there has been a revived interest in the Ramos Gin Fizz, thanks to the robust craft cocktail trend in Texas. The recipe for this infamous concoction as well as other favorite dishes from The Cadillac Bar can be found in Cash’s book,  Pancho Villas Saddle at the Cadillac: Recipes & Memories, which is available at bookstores such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble.



1 oz. dry gin

juice from one lemon

1 tsp. powdered sugar

1 egg white

3 oz. whipping cream

6 drops orange flavoring


Mix all ingredients in blender.

Serve over crushed ice in tall glass.

Serves one. Enjoy responsibly.

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When Texas-bred Jayne Mansfield moved to Los Angeles, she knew what she wanted. That giant-sized ambition fueled a career during the waning days of Hollywood’s Golden Age that leaves a timeless legacy. Here, our culture chronicler Lori Duran shares insight on the glamorous life and career of the remarkable mid-century bombshell.

Jayne Mansfield was a movie star in the late 1950s who was determined to become famous at an early age. As a little girl, Mansfield idolized the tiny 20th Century Fox studio star Shirley Temple, an example of a movie star who she dreamed of becoming herself. Once she arrived in Tinseltown, she capitalized on the by-then familiar blonde bombshell routine. Many had come before her to great success, like Marion Davies, Carole Lombard, and Betty Grable, to name a few. Many had also failed. In order to rival her contemporaries, such as Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Loren, Mansfield used her considerable intelligence to create publicity with an image as a seductively styled celebrity. In fact, she was Mensa smart, a detail that was noteworthy in a world of publicist-invented elements created to make a potential star rise beyond the pack of Hollywood hopefuls who fell off the bus at Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street, seeking their own fame and fortune. Along the way, she married and divorced three times and had five children. Yet, Jayne had the grit and determination that took her to the heights of fame, while juggling multiple responsibilities. She was, in a word, unforgettable.



Jayne Mansfield, the woman destined to be a movie star, was born Vera Jayne Palmer in 1933, in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, to an attorney, Herbert W. Palmer, and his wife, Vera. In 1936, her father died.  Vera married Harry Peers three years later, and the family moved to the tony Highland Park enclave of Dallas, where Mansfield was known as Vera Jayne Peers. The future ingenue later said she always felt like a Texan and always loved the cinema. She idolized the film stars of her childhood and was determined to perform. By the time she turned five, she was singing for anyone who would listen, including her gigantic collection of stuffed animals. At seven, she would stand in her driveway and play the violin for passers-by. Though her idols changed over the years–from Shirley Temple to Gene Tierney, Hedy Lamarr, and Jean Harlow–they were always movie box office stars who served as inspirations.


She attended Highland Park High School and graduated in 1950. Her high school yearbook photo shows a brunette Jayne that participated in orchestra, the Hi-Lites girl’s service club, and the riding club. Early in life, she started a family, marrying her high school sweetheart, and having a baby girl, just six months after graduation. In November of 1950, Jayne Marie Mansfield was born to the 17-year-old Vera Jayne and her husband, Paul Mansfield. As a young mother and newlywed, she participated in local theatre, and in 1951, she enrolled at Southern Methodist University to study acting. In 1952, the Mansfield’s moved to study at the University of Texas at Austin, where she belonged to the drama department’s Curtain Club. She would then go on to act and practice her craft in numerous plays at the Austin Civic Theatre, later to be renamed the Zachary Scott Theatre.


During the Korean War, Paul left for Army reserve duty, but her husband’s tour of duty and her new baby did not divert the potential star’s aspirations. Before leaving, Paul relented and promised her that when it was over, the family would move to Hollywood. Two years later, when Paul returned home, the little Mansfield family started out for California. However, Paul stayed only a few months in Tinseltown. With his wife’s hair now dyed peroxide blonde, and her unrelenting career drive, Paul Mansfield grew dissatisfied and returned to Texas. Even after they later divorced and Jayne remarried, she kept the last name Mansfield because she thought it sounded illustrious. And then she began to use her middle name, Jayne.

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In 1954, when the 21-year-old Jayne arrived in Los Angeles to stay, she glowed bright and burned with ambition. She pushed forward to be in the movies between such odd jobs as a movie theater candy vendor and modeling in men’s magazines. She was signed to Warner Brothers Studio after a talent scout discovered her in a production at the Pasadena Playhouse, a breeding ground for potential talent, then and now. Her persistence paid off, and the studio began awarding her bit parts until she was noticed, and within just a couple more years, she was receiving prominent billing in successful films. Then, Fox studios signed Mansfield as a replacement for their major contract star, an increasingly troubled Marilyn Monroe. Jayne’s acting in The Girl Can’t Help It (1956) would turn out to be one of her best roles–she almost portrayed herself. That was followed up by Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter (1957), which demonstrated her humor-filled personality. For that, she received a Golden Globe Award nomination as New Star of the Year and went on to win a Golden Globe for her performance in The Wayward Bus (1957). Her other mainstream starring role film successes followed in the late 1950s, such as Kiss Them for Me (1957) and The Sheriff of Fractured Jaw (1958). She promoted her films with robust gusto as few other movie stars did. Most stars disliked the rote promotional appearances that she relished, from supermarket openings to interview shows. In 1957, she went on a whirlwind tour of Europe to entertain the U.S. troops stationed there and support the release of Kiss Them For Me, a military soap opera co-starring Cary Grant. Being the morale builder that she was, hundreds of photographers and waiting fans greeted her at the airport upon her arrival. She was even presented to Queen Elizabeth.



In 1958, Jayne Mansfield married Hungarian-born bodybuilder Mickey Hargitay, who left Mae West’s act to join Jayne on stage with her cabaret nightclub performances and co-star in the film, The Love Of Hercules (1960). They would have three children, Miklos Jr., Zoltan, and Mariska. Usually, having multiple young children would have slowed down other performers, but it did not derail Jayne. By 1958, Jayne had been asked to appear in nightly performances at the Tropicana in Las Vegas, where she sang, danced, and joked with the audience. She loved being able to interact with her fans personally, and the Tropicana loved the crowds she drew. Her performances brought in a full house every night. It was the beginning of a long-standing, successful nightclub career for the star. Starring in several hit television shows of the era like The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, Burke’s Law, and Kraft Mystery Theater, to name a few, also brought fame during this period. 


Along the way, Mansfield branded herself with the color pink. In November 1957, shortly before her marriage to Hargitay, Jayne used money from an inheritance to buy the Mediterranean-style mansion, once owned by Rudy Vallée, in Beverly Hills. Immediately the house was painted pink, complete with cupids surrounded by pink fluorescent lights. She even had pink fur in the bathroom, a pink heart-shaped bathtub, and a fountain that bubbled with pink champagne. And she dubbed it the Pink Palace. Hargitay built the pink heart-shaped swimming pool, and she began riding in a pink Cadillac, convertible complete with tailfins. She was riding high and at the peak of her film career when in 1960, she received a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame for her film contributions. Jayne had become a celebrity, but not because of her best qualities. She fluently spoke five languages and boasted an I.Q. of 163. Even Mansfield admitted her public didn’t care about her brains, yet instead, “they’re more interested in 40-21-35”. To stand apart from her Hollywood competition of the era, she was keen on publicity and invented her own “wardrobe malfunction” to show off her natural assets to their best advantage.


“I’ll always remember the time in the late 1950s when Jayne, Mickey, and I were in their pink Cadillac going to a radio station for a publicity interview one afternoon,” recalled Gretchen Fine, a long-time Hollywood publicist who represented Mansfield at the time. “It was on the way to a personal appearance I had booked, promoting a new film Jayne had coming out. Mickey was coaching her in the back seat, and Jayne kept quieting him, telling him that she knew exactly what she was going to say. And she did. Jayne always knew her stuff.  She was funny and very sweet. She was also incredibly smart.”


She turned heads as a voluptuous, dumb-acting glamorous blonde movie star. However, some of her self-promotional antics went too far in the minds of media tastemakers of the era. Her on-screen career included only a couple dozen films. Some of those films elevated her career, yet others were beneath her talents. Both on and off-screen, she cultivated her own style to perfection. Her distinctive speech included soft-voiced coos punctuated with squeals. But it was Mansfield’s exhibitionistic ways that would limit her career, especially when she appeared in the overtly sexy movie Promises, Promises, and made appearances in Playboy magazine when that was often considered taboo at the time in Hollywood. Consequently, 20th Century Fox studio dropped her contract, and Hargitay divorced her.

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In 1964, the newly divorced Mansfield married director Matt Cimber. In 1965, they had a son named Anthony (Tony), her fifth child. She was the ultimate working mother, at a time when that was not admired like it is today. Her time was split between a nightclub tour and the production of her mostly forgotten final film, Single Room Furnished, which was directed by her husband. Reportedly depressed with her career slump, Mansfield was drinking. At the advice of Cimber, she even rejected the role of Ginger in T.V.’s Gilligan’s Island, the part of the Hollywood bombshell went to Tina Louise.


Mansfield would go on to work in low-paying B-movies with the occasional appearance in a more respectable film. Her physical attributes were no longer maintaining her original popularity nor paying off handsomely. In 1966, Matt Cimber divorced Jayne, and she became romantically involved with her attorney, Sam Brody. Now, Mansfield only garnered press recognition for news such as when she was named in a divorce suit by Brody’s ailing wife. Jayne was once one of the most glamorous rising stars of the movie industry, a rival to Marilyn Monroe, but by the mid-sixties, she was no longer headlining mainstream films.  Unfortunately, her entertainment career was tragically cut short after just 13 years. However, Jayne Mansfield was one of those people you cannot forget, either by her movies or by how she died.


In June of 1967, Jayne Mansfield was performing at Gus Stevens Supper Club in Biloxi, Mississippi, where she put on two nightly shows at 9:00 P.M. and 11:00 P.M. After a June 28th evening engagement, Mansfield left at 2:30 A.M the next morning, June 29, for an early New Orleans TV show interview and promotional appearance. Inside the car with her was the driver, Brody, three of her five children, and her Chihuahua dogs. The new Buick sped down a winding, narrow stretch of U.S. Hwy. 90, just west of the Rigolets bridge. Sadly, visibility was poor that night, and it’s possible the driver didn’t see the tractor-trailer rig before their car plowed into it. The tractor-trailer had halted behind a city vehicle spraying the Louisiana swamps with pesticide. As their car hit the rear of the truck, it under rode the trailer, and the roof was practically sheared off. All the adults and dogs were in the front seat and died on the scene. The three children, in the back seat, suffered some injuries yet lived. Jayne was laid to rest in Fairview Cemetery in Pen Argyl, Pennsylvania. There is also a cenotaph dedicated to her in the Hollywood Forever Memorial Park in Los Angeles.


The tragedy of Jayne’s death led to “underride guards,” also known as Mansfield bars or bumpers for semi-trucks that help prevent the under riding that claimed so many lives in that era. In the aftermath, Mansfield’s pink palace was sold, and its subsequent owners have included Ringo Starr and Englebert Humperdink. Humperdink sold the house to developers in 2002, and the house was demolished a few months later, including its famous heart-shaped pool that offered so many publicity opportunities for Mansfield.


In 1980, her life and career with Mickey Hargitay was portrayed in a highly rated 1980 movie of the week with Loni Anderson portraying Mansfield and Arnold Schwarzenegger as Hargitay. One of Jayne Mansfield’s offspring reached the sustained acting success that eluded Jayne. Mariska Hargitay, her second youngest child, is a movie and television actress who is beloved by many. Her career includes a co-starring role in the long-running T.V. series Law and Order, Special Victims Unit.


The best of Mansfield’s career was her early years in Los Angeles, as she crafted her own outlandish style and, with that, she left her indelible mark on the history of Hollywood that lives on today, thanks to frequent showings of her most memorable films on Turner Classic Movies, as well as being available to stream, and on DVD.

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Austin History Center Hosts Annual Angelina Eberly Luncheon

By Rob Giardinelli       Photography by Jim Innes and Anne Wheat

THE SETTING: Pre-COVID-19, over 260 of the Capital City’s most notable philanthropists and business leaders, descended upon The Austin Club for the Angelina Eberly Luncheon. One of the most popular annual luncheons in Austin, the afternoon was full of fun and storytelling, creating a history-loving experience. 


THE STYLE: The business-chic crowd began the afternoon in the foyer of the venue with a coffee reception against the backdrop of piano music, which added to the sophisticated elegance in the air. Guests then ascended the staircase to the main ballroom for the next phase of the festivities.


While dining on a delicious multi-course meal, attendees were treated to an engaging program.  Highlights included celebrating the 40th anniversary of the Austin History Center Association, with remarks from AHCA president and former mayor Lee Cooke. The event was capped off with a presentation where attendees learned about Austin’s origins and Mirabeau B.  Lamar’s vision for how Austin would be the seat of Texas.


THE PURPOSE: The event, chaired by Charles Peveto, raised funds for the Austin History Center, which seeks to enrich the memory of Austin and Travis County. Proceeds from the event went towards the funding of the Austin History Center, which is located inside the world-renowned Austin Public Library. 


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The University of Texas at Austin, a true academic powerhouse, has over a century of stories that have unfolded on its grounds since it was founded in 1883…according to our classic culture seeker Lori Duran in an exclusive excerpt of her new book, The University of Texas at Austin: The First One-Hundred Years (Arcadia Publishing).


This singular edifice was the entire University of Texas when it opened, and it would be the west wing of the Main Building when construction was completed years later. The University of Texas opened in September 1883, but due to financial constraints, there was a construction delay and the building wasn’t ready in time for the students. So, classes were held in the temporary Capitol building that semester.

The Senate Chamber was used for Assembly Hall and the Hall of Representatives was partitioned off for use as lecture rooms. In 1884, the construction finally finished, and the University moved into the Main Building. This building was expanded in the following years and over time it became known as Old Main. (Courtesy of the University of North Texas Portal to History and the Austin History Center C06713.)


The view looking north at the new Main Building from 19th Street (now Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd). Old Main had been demolished and replaced with this new structure during 1934-35. It was financed with a Public Works Administration grant, to house administration and a library. The reading room ceiling timbers had lofty quotes painted on them to inspire and it was intended to be the state’s biggest library. The students requested books from librarians who pulled them from an upper floor and the books were sent down on a dumb waiter.

This building, with its strikingly tall tower, has become the most recognizable symbol of the University. Orange and white lights are used on the tower to illuminate it and communicate school victories and announcements. In 1947, Carl J. Eckhardt Jr. helped create guidelines for using the orange lights.

A number 1 on all sides highlighted by orange lights signaled that the university won a national championship. The full Tower glowing orange alone represented a victory over Texas A&M, commencement, or other occasions the president deemed appropriate. The Tower top bathed in orange symbolized other victories or a conference title in any intercollegiate sport. (Courtesy of the University of North Texas Portal to History and the Austin History Center C03474.)


Titled As We Turned Them Out, this illustration in the 1896 University of Texas Cactus Yearbook, of a sophisticate, seems ironic since most of the students then were from farms and small towns. This image also invokes the nickname tea-sippers applied to UT students by those of Texas A&M University. Supposedly well-to-do students of UT turned out to be doctors, lawyers and the like. While A&M was then assumed to be a blue-collar school which traditionally taught agriculture and mechanics. (Courtesy of Flower Hill Foundation.)


Geraldine Hill is pictured here outside of the front of the Tau Deuteron Figi House where she lived as a student in 1919. This house was used for women’s housing during WWI. The Figi house, originally known as the Goldbeck mansion, was built in 1902. The Tau Deuteron chapter purchased it in 1908. (Courtesy of Mary Brady.)

The book is available now at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Arcadia Publishing.