DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of the official marker for Norwood Tower, straight out of Travis County. Now, picture Austin's downtown skyline — back before the glass towers and the cranes became permanent fixtures on the horizon. Back when a sixteen-story building could stop a person cold on the sidewalk.
For a good stretch of the twentieth century, only one structure in downtown Austin stood taller than Norwood Tower, and that was the State Capitol itself. Think about that. One building, and then the seat of Texas government.
That was the whole list. It starts in 1925, when a man named Ollie O. Norwood — born 1887, and with plenty of ambition to show for it — bought the site and hired a firm called Giesecke and Harris to design him an office building.
Now, those weren't just any two architects. Bertram E. Giesecke had architecture in his blood — his father, F.
E. Giesecke, was an architect, an engineer, and an educator with a particular fascination: experiments in reinforcing concrete. Bertram met his future partner, August Watkins Harris — Watt, his friends called him — in architecture school, and together the two men went on to design buildings all across Texas.
For Norwood, they reached back centuries for inspiration. Gothic Revival. Pre-cast concrete shaped and ornamented like something that belonged on a European cathedral and somehow landed perfectly on a Texas street corner.
We're talking a rose window. Tracery. Finials.
Gargoyles keeping watch over Congress Avenue. And running along the facade, a band of quatrefoils — those four-lobed decorative forms that medieval stonemasons loved — rendered in concrete with enough care that, nearly a hundred years on, people still stop and stare. Norwood Tower opened in 1929, and the tenants came.
Renfro Drugstore set up shop. Medical professionals filled the floors. Long-standing Texas companies made it their home — Gracy Title Co., Elgin-Butler Brick, Brown and Root.
And after serving two terms as governor of Texas, Dan Moody walked through those Gothic doors and ran his law firm right there inside the building. The top two floors, meanwhile, weren't offices at all — they were residences. Sixteen stories up, with all of Austin laid out below.
But here's the story the marker doesn't let pass quietly, and neither will I. During Austin's years of segregation, the private office of a man named Clarence O. Williams — longtime maintenance engineer of Norwood Tower — provided downtown restroom access to many African Americans who had precious few places in that city they were permitted to simply exist with dignity.
That detail sits in the marble alongside the gargoyles and the quatrefoils, and it deserves to. The decades rolled on. Other buildings rose up and dwarfed the old tower.
By the late twentieth century, it wasn't the tallest thing downtown anymore — not by a long measure. It was renovated in the 1980s. The LBJ Holding Company purchased the property in 1997.
And still it stands, unique in its design, elaborate in its detail, an architectural gem and an honest link to Austin's early business history. The skyline grew up around Norwood Tower. The gargoyles kept watching.
Some things in this state, once they're built right, just refuse to be ordinary.
What the marker says
This building was once the tallest structure in Austin's downtown area other than the State Capitol. Dwarfed by other structures by the late 20th century, the Norwood Tower remains unique in its design and elaborate detailing. In 1925, Ollie O. Norwood (1887-1961) bought this site and hired the firm of Giesecke and Harris to design an office building. Bertram E. Giesecke (1892-1950) was the son of F.E. Giesecke, an architect, engineer and educator known for his experiments with reinforcing concrete. Bertram met August Watkins "Watt" Harris (1893-1968) in architecture school, and the men designed many buildings throughout Texas. The Gothic Revival tower, built of pre-cast concrete, features elaborate detailing, including a rose window, tracery, finials, gargoyles and a band of quatrefoils. Norwood Tower opened in 1929. Early tenants included Renfro Drugstore and numerous medical professionals, as well as long-standing area companies, such as Gracy Title Co., Elgin-Butler Brick and Brown & Root. Following two terms as Texas governor, Dan Moody operated his law firm in the building. The top two floors of the 16-story edifice provided space for residential living. The private office of longtime maintenance engineer Clarence O. Williams provided downtown restroom access to many African Americans during Austin's years of segregation. Throughout the building's history, various owners have maintained the landmark, renovated in the 1980s. The LBJ Holding Company purchased the property in 1997, and the architectural gem continues as an important link to Austin's early business history. Recorded Texas Historic Landmark - 2006