DUANE
Duane's take
Here's how the official marker tells it, and I'm gonna do my best to give it the telling it deserves. Now, before Galveston was Galveston in the way people talk about it today, before the crowds and the beads and the arches strung across the street like something out of a dream, there was a tradition. And that tradition didn't start in Texas — it started in Europe, somewhere in the fifteenth century, at a masquerade ball where the whole point was that nobody knew who you were.
You wore an extravagant costume, you put on a mask, and just like that, whoever you'd been when you walked in the door — you weren't them anymore. That idea crossed an ocean and found Galveston. The year was 1867.
A group with one of the finest names in the history of organized fun — the Jolly Young Bachelors — rented Turner Hall and sent invitations to one hundred guests. The occasion? Dramatic entertainment and a bal masque.
Now I can't tell you exactly what that entertainment was, but I can tell you the evening was deemed a success. That's the word they used. A success.
And so an annual tradition was born. Except — well, nothing in Galveston ever went entirely smooth, did it? Over the years, Mardi Gras hit a hiatus.
Then another one. Periodic hiatuses, the marker says, meaning this thing kept going quiet on 'em. But the spirit never fully died.
Private celebrations kept it breathing. Impromptu parades rolled through the gaps when nobody was officially in charge of rolling them. Multiple parades and processions became part of the fabric over time.
Festive galas developed — including something called a treasure ball, which sounds exactly as grand as it sounds, and a royal party where they crowned that year's king frivolous. King. Frivolous.
If that title doesn't make you want to attend, I don't know what will. But then came the long silence. A lengthy hiatus that outlasted all the others.
And Mardi Gras in Galveston — one of the oldest such celebrations you'd find anywhere — just… wasn't happening the way it once had. That's where George P. Mitchell comes in.
A businessman. A Galveston native. In 1985, he and his wife Cynthia Woods Mitchell decided enough was enough.
They spearheaded the effort to bring Mardi Gras back as a public event, rooted in local traditions. Part of that effort was something called the fantasy arches project — eight decorative arches, put up to commemorate the re-establishment of Mardi Gras as an annual event. Eight arches marking a return.
A statement in iron and light that said: we're back, and we mean it. And they meant it. Today, Mardi Gras in Galveston draws three hundred thousand visitors every year.
It sustains downtown businesses. It's grown into a city-wide celebration lasting over two weeks. Daytime events have been added so families can be part of it too.
What started as one evening at Turner Hall with one hundred invited guests now fills an entire city for a fortnight. Over a hundred and fifty years of ever-changin' culture and technology, and Mardi Gras in Galveston is still standing. Still masking up.
Still crowning a king frivolous. Still linking this stretch of the Texas Gulf Coast to a fifteenth-century European ballroom floor where nobody knew your name and that was exactly the point. The bal masque continues.
Galveston wouldn't have it any other way.
What the marker says
Mardi Gras was born out of a fifteenth-century European masquerade ball tradition, where guests would wear extravagant costumes and masks to conceal their identities. The first Mardi Gras celebration in Galveston occurred in 1867 at Turner Hall, when a group called “the Jolly Young Bachelors” invited 100 guests for “dramatic entertainment and a bal masque.” The initial Mardi Gras celebration was deemed a success; however, the now annual event experienced periodic hiatuses throughout its history. Private celebrations and impromptu parades helped fill in the gaps between publicly promoted and organized events. Many traditions in the celebration have developed over the years, such as multiple parades and processions. Several festive galas developed over time to include an elaborate “treasure ball” and a royal party featuring the crowning of that year’s king frivolous. After a lengthy hiatus, in 1985 businessman and Galveston native George P. Mitchell and his wife, Cynthia Woods Mitchell, spearheaded efforts to revive Mardi Gras as a public event with local traditions. Their efforts included the fantasy arches project, which featured eight decorative arches commemorating the re-establishment of Mardi Gras in Galveston as an annual event. Today, Mardi Gras provides vital support for the local economy by attracting 300,000 visitors annually and sustaining downtown businesses. Daytime events have been added to foster a more family-friendly environment. The event has now expanded to a city-wide celebration lasting over two weeks. Spanning several generations, Mardi Gras in Galveston survived over 150 years of ever-changing culture and technology. This historic event continues to celebrate the bal masque linking Galveston to continental European culture. (2017)