Joseph
Pinkney Reynolds
Table of Contents
Alice Idella "Della" Reynolds b. Apr 13, 1880, Eastland, Texas, m. Jul 5, 1899, in Cloud Chief, Oklahoma, Romeo Reed Redus, b. Jul 12, 1871, Sherman, Texas, (son of Blewett Sanders Redus and Martha "Mattie" Glasscock) d. Dec 2, 1951, San Antonio, Texas, buried: sunset Memorial Park, San Antonio, Texas. Della died Jan 9, 1950, Eagle Pass, Texas, buried: Sunset Memorial Park, San Antonio, Texas. Children: i. Leona Eglenna "Girlie" Redus b. May 3, 1901. ii. Constance Jewel "Connie" Redus b. Mar 2, 1903.
Romeo Reed Redus and Alice Idella "Della" Reynolds
Alice Idella "Della" Reynolds
1880 - 1950
Constance Jewel "Connie" Redus Thomson
Los Olmos Ranch
Connie Redus Thomson with her faithful "Brownie"
Memories of Romeo Reed Redus by Leona Eglenna "Girlie" Redus Heye, 1979
"Not many lads of 18 years had the great fun of traveling alone across the great Staked Plains, the "Llano Estacado" of other years. But our sleuth happened yesterday to find one that did. And this boy was seven days and nights making the journey, and never in all that time did he see another human being. He was traveling via wagon, the wagon having a canvas covering, the covered wagon of old, drawn by a pair of light ponies, and provisioned as to food, but without water. This was back in 1892, and the journey for the seven days without any sight of humanity was made from Eastland County. Every time you find a city man that has had experience in the open ranges in his youth, you find a man that looks back on it with pleasure, as of the happiest years of his life. And when R. R. Redus got to reminiscing yesterday of that seven day trip across the plains with never a sight of a fellow human, he thrilled anew at the remembrance. They're all that way. But the lad came pretty near to finding someone, he found the camp of some antelope hunters. The camp was pitched in a draw, cozy and comfy-like, and the lad drove up eagerly, hoping to find a fellow mortal. But the hunters were away, and the lad cut a big slice of antelope meat off a carcass, leaving the customary note, peculiar to the west, of letting it be known who had taken the meat. The boy had seen antelopes by the thousands, but couldn't hit a barn door. Hence, the meatless journey, save for the bacon brought along, and on this trip the lad had a glimpse of a tragedy of wildlife. There passed his camp, one noon, while he sat in the shade of the wagon, eating, with the ponies grazing alongside, a running antelope with a wolf in pursuit. The antelope was winded, his tongue lolling, his running slow, weary-like. The wolf, a hundred feet behind, was likewise winded, with tongue out, lifting weary feet. The chase hove up, passed by, and on into the distance. It was a tragedy for the antelope if he failed, and likewise a tragedy for the wolf if he failed. There was no incentive for either animal to "throw off" in that race. And then the long seven days of aloneness came to an end; when about 40 miles east of Roswell, the lad met two men in a wagon, on the bald prairie with never a tree in sight, who were going out a few miles to get a load of wood. They had their picks and grubbing hoes, and were going to where a vanished mesquite forest had left its heavy roots in the ground. The lad, who had begun his journey originally in Eastland County, met a band of Indians, his first. Finally, he drove into Roswell, a city of the true West and the militant life of the place thrilled him through and through. The news was on every lip that Jay Gould had just died. Jay Gould, held up to the boys of that day and time as a monster who went about the country pouring water on poor men's fires. In an hour or two after he got to town somebody showed him the place where Pat Garrett had killed the great Billy the Kid! The seven days of utter loneliness were as nothing. The new life lifted a brimming cup."
Harry Williams wrote the above narrative, in January 1926. He was the editor of the "Cattle Clatter" column in the San Antonio Express in San Antonio, Texas. His articles contained personal antidotes of the ranchers and cattlemen, as well as, interviews of the prominent citizens of San Antonio, and this column was dedicated to the early day settlers of South Texas and environs.
How shall I continue this fascinating biography of my father, Romeo Reed Redus? Data from files and letters have helped me to complete this diary of his eventful life.
He, of course, was surely one of the trailblazers of South Texas. His life was, indeed, colorful and full of adventure, very similar to the western true stories found on the shelves of the newsstands today. This will be an authentic tale of antidotes, and perhaps, some folklore which has been related to me from relatives and kinsmen of earlier days; although a lot of the history was told to me after I arrived on the scene and will be personal experience and "epistles" during my lifetime.
Let's go first into the history of his father, Blewett Sanders Redus (1842-1915) who was a "rebel" returning to a desolate land after the War between the States; perhaps better known as The Civil War. A happy and jolly fellow by nature, he and his brothers had returned from the war to their homeland to face hardships; of rebuilding their shattered homes and barren country; their entire world torn by the devastation and scourges of war. Most of the boys who returned were weary; many of them maimed and crippled in one way or another. Grandfather lost his hearing in the siege of Vicksburg, caused by cannon fire and jarring rounds of heavy artillery. (I can remember, so vividly, the conversations Grandfather had with each of us, as well as all who knew him. The questions were written on a slate he carried with him, a long string with a chalk pencil tied to the slate frame. He would answer in a loud, clear voice; often accompanied with a hearty laugh or a chuckle).
The reconstruction days caused many of that generation to search for new homes. Gold had been discovered in the west and droves of caravans left daily, crossing the plains and mountains in search of a fortune, or perhaps just a survival and a livelihood in a new land.
Not long after Grandfather returned to Mississippi from the War, he met one of the southern belles from the adjoining state of Alabama. She had a love of adventure and was willing to follow this brave young chap across the prairies and mountains into a land where the Gold Rush was a chance, or a challenge for a new and exciting adventure. The girl was Martha (Mattie) Glasscock from Marion, Alabama. She was 18 and he was 27 and they were married in 1869. They started their journey immediately; but when they reached the rich farm lands of North Texas, they remained for five years. Then, with a little family of 3 children, they continued the long trail into the West. Many caravans started this long trek with Indian raids nightly; to say nothing of the wild animals with their howling and piercing screams to disturb the peaceful rest they needed after a hazardous journey each day. At last, they reached their destination with every hope that this would be their "Shangri-La".
(Would that I could recall the stories told to my sister, Connie, and me by our Grandfather in his last years; of his adventures in this vast wilderness when he was prospecting for gold, of his ambitions fullfilled and his happy days in the new territory. Each story told, followed by a lilting refrain from songs of that era. Many of the songs with a zing and a pathos of the songs of today; lonely and melancholy, so typical of lost youth and a dream of a new world to conquer).
The new home was founded along the banks of the river in the heart of Denver, Colorado. (In recent years this section has been restored by the Conservation Society and is one of the historical spots for the tourists to visit). Grandfather made his "strike" in Cripple Creek; the family lived comfortably and prospered. Then Mattie died at the birth of her 4th child in 1881. The baby was named Charlie and he was adopted by a family in Denver and the other 3 children were sent back to live with their grandmother who lived in Texas. Charlie grew to manhood with his foster parents, never having known his brother and his two sisters. He married Myrtle Allen of Denver.
Life in Enloe in North Texas was difficult for these three small children; Romeo, Juliet and Eglenna. They missed their mother and their home in Denver. Their Grandmother, Elizabeth Craig Astin Redus, who had followed her sons from Mississippi to Texas was a stolid, hard-working woman; perhaps unhappy herself at the new life she had been forced to make for existence after the war. She attempted to direct the children in the ways of a farmer's life and, I am sure, the years passed slowly for all of them. They attended school 5 miles from their home and worked in the fields after school hours. Eventually, Romeo, the oldest became disgruntled and decided to see the world of which he knew very little. He joined a traveling troupe of show people; they played in small communities; short vaudeville skits in their overnight stops. He had many and sundry jobs and grew to an early manhood during those formative years.
When the Spanish-American War erupted, he volunteered his services to fight for Uncle Sam. We have many pictures of those eventual years under the able leadership of Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders. His promotion from a mere lad and a rookie to Wagon Master was, at that time, and in that year quite a promotion for a boy of 17. They nicknamed him "The Kid" and from letters and other data, he was the pet of his regiment. I am sure that he was a fair and just, as well as, a courageous leader. He loved horses and other animals and had charge of 35 men and 150 animals. During the last 10 months of the war, he was Train Wagon Master having 50 to 100 men and 500 animals under his command. He was frugal and ambitious and when he returned to the states after the War, he settled in Indian Territory; later to become the State of Oklahoma. It was a rough and rugged beginning among tribes of lawless Indians, many of them hostile. There were hordes of people entering the new land for a quick claim deed to the new territory soon to be opened to statehood.
His first venture, a general mercantile store, selling everything the early settlers would need to build and furnish their future abodes. Tools for tilling the soil, hardware, kitchen supplies, yardage materials of dry goods for their clothes, and even toys and candy for the children. He took chattel mortgages on various farm products for merchandise, and collected 90% of it during the 8 years he lived in this community; later known as Cordell, Oklahoma. During this time he acquired 4 farms of 160 acres each; was sole manager of each of them; then sold them at a large profit when he left Cordell for the wilds of Texas.
About the time he started his mercantile business, this romantic Romeo discovered the prettiest girl in town; namely Miss Della Reynolds. She was the pharmacist in her Uncle Dee Reynolds Drugstore. Miss Della was engaged to one of the few Doctors in town; he was, incidentally, a very popular bachelor, as well as a successful Doctor, but this did not discourage my father in his efforts to capture this pretty girl. It soon became apparent that he was "hanging around" the drugstore far too often; making purchases only when Miss Della could wait on him. It was a fast and steady courtship; this silver-tongued rough from parts unknown had swept this young lass completely off her feet. They eloped on the night of the annual 4th of July celebration; rode through rain and mud to Cloud Chief, Oklahoma; traveling all night in a fancy buggy with the fringe on the top, and were married early on the morning of the 5th of July 1899. The witnesses to the ceremony were: Leona Reynolds, sister of Miss Della, Will Reynolds, a cousin, and Charlie Redus, brother of Romeo. Rev. Bills officiated and they were married in the Iron Hotel. For many months, or maybe a year, Dr. Joe Reynolds, father of Miss Della refused to accept Miss Della's marriage to my father; but finally, he became reconciled when he realized the two were completely compatible and that his daughter had chosen a man of good character, as well as, a good provider. They spent 5 years in this small town. By this time, my father became restless, and began thinking of a new territory and other fields to conquer.
I think he must have been, more or less, a gypsy, at heart.
By this time, two little girls had arrived to bless this marriage. South Texas was having a great land boom; people were leaving the stormy, inclement weather in Oklahoma and many of the early settlers were heading for South Texas. Here they found a verdant country in a flat terrain interspersed with many types of native plants. The vegetation included Live Oak trees with clumps of mistletoe clinging to the branches of the trees; the white berries ripening at Christmas time. A real romantic spectacle was the Spanish moss hanging among the boughs of the Hackberry trees. The Mesquite trees are found all through southwest Texas and bear a crop of beans each year and provides food for the cattle that roam the countryside. Some of the plants seem to exist for no good reason at all; the Spanish Dagger and the prickly pear; each growing in great abundance amid jungles of catclaw, rattail cacti and the huijillo plant; the latter a common shrub found also south of the border in Mexico.
A great sight for the newcomers was the abundance of deer, wild turkeys, the "bobwhite" quail, the soft, gray doves, the havelina hogs and the maverick beef; a delight for any hunter. There were many beautiful birds; the Red Cardinals, the sassy Bluejay with his shrill "caw caw" and the cocky Roadrunner known as the "chapperal" and, needless to say, the wise old owls; who usually perched in the branches of the trees, never missing a sight, either in the light of day or in the dark of night. The Mockingbirds sang each morning. to announce the arrival of spring in Texas, whether in February or December. Really, this native paradise was a challenge to some creative genius to conquer. This land fanned by breezes from the Gulf of Mexico via Corpus Christi Bay and tanned by the hot radiant sunshine in the summer months. I must admit there were some drawbacks; namely, the numerous varieties of insects and the poisonous snakes, a problem to be met with but these are obstacles to be found in any new country.
My father, Romeo Reed Redus, could foresee a future in this garden spot as he entered into buying and selling property. Prospectors from north and east ventured into this new territory, answering the many ads which my father had posted up and down the country roads; both in and out of Texas. He, also, advertised in the newspapers throughout the other states. His signs were painted on a tin plaque framed in the form of an owl, nailed on fence posts and in trees. (Sorry, I cannot recall the clever slogan he used under the sign with the label "Redus Land Co.").
There were two factions in this little town of Sinton, Texas and wouldn't you know, he was the leader of the Progressive group. The other group included the earlier settlers who were satisfied to keep the town under their control. My father was for developing the new fertile land and he urged people to come and develop the natural resources; that is, farming; and also, the potential of minerals in this barren soil. Years later, this early effort paid off; today this is a thriving little city with oil wells and all modern conveniences for better living; progressive schools, new highways, and many recreational facilities. Many landmarks still bear the names of my father's achievements. The first brick building with his name and date of erection (1911) show proof of his thought of the future. We hold titles to many of his early endeavors to prove what ingenuity and faith be had in this future in this new venture. His firm was known as the Redus Land Company. He operated a land and insurance office and loaned money on farms and farm products. He helped to organize and was a director of the Bank of Commerce. He held offices in civic clubs, the Masonic Lodge; including the Shriner Branch of the Masonic Lodge in San Antonio, Texas; besides holding a very special place in the political life in the county.
Then suddenly, the War in Europe interrupted the lives of most Americans. My father volunteered his services, was made a captain and recruited boys throughout the county, enlisting the 1st Volunteer Company in the State of Texas. Before the United States was in the middle of the fracas, we moved to San Antonio and my father remained in the service of Uncle Sam until the Armistice was signed in 1918. He then, opened an office in one of the main office buildings on Houston Street in the heart of San Antonio. Here, he belonged to the Masonic Lodge, where he was a very active member of the Shriner Branch of the Masonic Lodge, where he was a 32nd degree Shriner. Here is the period in our lives when Connie and I were allowed to learn to dance. (Only at the Shrine Balls). I can still see our dad doing the "put your little foot" step; also the "coming through the Rye", and the waltz step at which my father was an expert and many of the dances of that era prepared us for confidence later on when we were allowed to attend dances. Well, I must say, our dad did give us advantages and opportunities; at the same time, he held a firm hand and was a strict and stern parent.
He held a special place in politics, not only in the city, but also in the state and, eventually, in the National Conventions; serving as a delegate many times to represent the Democratic Party. General R. L. Bullard, with whom he served in the Spanish-American War, appointed him as an active member of the National Security League and he made radio talks on a national "hook up" on national holidays. These talks to further the importance of preparedness and to stimulate patriotism among the people of the U.S.A.
I suppose his greatest challenge for survival came during the depression years following the panic of the 1929 Stock Market crash. This effected the entire population of the nation and many stories of suicides, murders, and starvation were recorded; a dismal aftermath of those tragic times. My father suffered losses like everyone else; he became seriously ill, spent many months in hospitals before he regained his health. Then, with his same strong will and a determined fight, he began building his business back; investing in more property and purchased a large home on Broadway, conducting his business from the home with Miss Della, his telephone girl. This took great courage to rebuild an empire he had lost; but with perseverance and indomitable spirit, he made a remarkable recovery. Before long, he hired salesmen to help with his expanding business which was soon to be known, again, as one of the leading Real Estate firms in South Texas. This was his life until the end; and so it ends the story that he was even selling a ranch to the Doctor who was with him in his last illness.
A few nostalgia memoirs from our early childhood must be recorded. Our lovely home in Sinton with the surrounding grounds containing a citrus grove of oranges, limes, grapefruit, lemons, and kumquat trees; besides a vegetable garden of every variety of food. My mother's pride and joy was her rose garden with 200 species of rose bushes and rose climbers. A beautiful weeping willow tree and the eucalyptus trees were the source of much conversation to those who visited us. Other trees planted included the peach, the plum, the fig, the apricot, and then, the lowly mulberry trees. Adjoining our home, we had tennis and basketball courts, and even, space for the game of croquet. All of this was surrounded by mesquite trees.
A stable for horses and a garage for the Model T and the 7 passenger Studebaker car with its jump seats between the front and back seats completed the grounds of our place. A big windmill at the rear of the house gave a natural source of irrigation for every type of vegetation grown on the grounds. The house was a story and a half; typical of the architecture of the period. There were wide "bay" windows, and glass transoms over each door throughout the house and a long veranda across the front of the house; as well as, a long narrow back porch across the back of the house. We had two fireplaces downstairs and a highly polished banister on the steps leading to the rooms upstairs. An interesting feature of the sleeping porch, which was over the veranda of the house, was the narrow railing which enclosed it. It was open to the sky in the daytime and to the stars at night. (Incidentally, this railing was a tempting place to "walk the rail" for tomboy daughter, Connie, who loved to test her agility and acting ability. She was the pride of our dad; although often his worry. The phrase, "Connie, be careful" was his slogan for her during his lifetime. And his last word to me were, "Take care of Connie". What a legacy to leave me.)
Grandfather Redus was a great part of our lives during these years. He arrived rather unexpectedly one sunny morning; walking up the street from the railroad station not too many blocks from where we lived. We were fascinated to know we had a white-haired, bearded Santa Claus looking grandfather to come to live with us. Our father, however, didn't seem very elated; but grandfather soon became a part of our family. He took care of the garden and the horses, and before long he established a little shop in town to make himself one of the citizens of the community. Children loved him as he loved them and he spent his last years a completely happy and jolly companion to all who knew him.
Many memories crowd my thoughts at this finale. The trips to Colorado each summer when we were children. I think my father's first years as a child he remembered with sadness and longed to locate his mother's grave; but unfortunately, he never found the spot where she was buried. Then, his years in New Mexico where he traveled as a lad, alone, seeking his fortune. He often took us to Ruidoso, the magnificent site where the Aspen and the Pine trees line the highways. He loved to camp alongside the road, build a campfire and boil coffee over an open fire and glowing coals. All these floating memories kindle a flame of nostalgia and a grateful appreciation for this family heritage. My father was, indeed, a "diamond in the rough". He belonged to the red blooded American Tribe, a true patriot, and no sacrifice was ever too great to show his love of America.
His life history would be incomplete without including a short history of our angelic mother who was the supreme inspiration to his success in his many achievements. Her steady, patient, loving faith in his every endeavor; she was always at his side encouraging him in any new venture or business plan. His success in his business dealings often resulted from long harrowing sessions; sometimes for days, but my father could depend on Miss Della to greet him with a smile and understanding on his return. He adored Miss Della, his own special name for her; she likewise, responded with the title: "Mr. Redus". This formality, one of the charming manners of that period of history.
I cannot recall that my mother ever raised her voice or expressed anger at anyone at any time in her entire life. She loved humanity and really believed there was good in every person; even the worst characters; believing there was some good in everyone if you took the time to find his problem. She was certainly an example of patience, goodness and service to her fellowman. She most surely dedicated her life to her family's comfort with an endless abiding love.
