Duane's take
Here's how the official marker tells it, and here's how I'm gonna tell it to you. On the west bank of the Angelina River, there was once a town that came up fast, lived hard, and went quiet just as the rest of the world was finishing a war. The town was called Ewing — named for a plantation owner by the name of James A.
Ewing — and it sat close to a rail line with virgin hardwood forests stretching out around it like the land itself was daring someone to come take a swing at it. Someone did. In 1919, a man named H.
G. Bohlssen purchased a hundred-acre tract of land and built a sawmill. Now, that sawmill wasn't just a building — it was the whole reason for everything that followed.
Ewing was a company town, which means the mill didn't just employ the people, it practically invented them. The place grew rapidly. At its peak, Ewing had a post office, a commissary, a church that doubled as a school, a boarding house, and eight hundred and fifty souls calling it home.
Two decades of life on that west bank of the Angelina River. Then the world intervened — the way it has a habit of doing. After many men left to serve in World War II or in war-related industries, the work thinned out and the town went with it.
The mill closed in December of 1944. Two decades it stood. Then just — gone.
That's Ewing. The boom town the river watched rise, and the river watched go.
What the marker says
The boom town of Ewing stood for two decades on the west bank of the Angelina River. Named for plantation owner James A. Ewing, the town was located near a rail line and virgin hardwood forests. In 1919 H. G. Bohlssen purchased a 100-acre tract of land and built a sawmill. A company town, Ewing grew rapidly and at its peak contained a post office, commissary, church/school, boarding house, and a population of 850. After many men left to serve in world War II or in war-related industries, the mill closed in December 1944. (1997)