DUANE
Duane's take
Here's how the official marker in Freestone County tells it — and it's a story worth slowing down for. Now, every railroad worth its salt has got a name. A real name, the one on the charter, and then the name folks actually use.
The one on the charter here was the Trinity and Brazos Valley Railway. Fine, dignified, the kind of name a railroad lawyer could say in court without blushing. But out on the Texas plains, where the cotton grew and the worry ran deep, people called it something else entirely: the Boll Weevil.
See, at the turn of the century, there was a genuine alarm spreading across Texas like a slow fire — pests attacking cotton, attacking the economy, attacking the very rhythm of life in farming country. And special trains went roaring down those tracks, carrying men to what they called Boll Weevil Conferences. Doesn't that just paint a picture?
Men in their good hats, riding iron rails to go sit in a room and figure out how to fight something the size of your thumbnail. The trains got named for the crisis. That's Texas for you.
There was another nickname floating around too — the Turnip and Bean Vine. So depending on who you asked, this railway was either a pest, a vegetable, or a perfectly respectable transportation artery. It managed to be all three.
Now behind the T. and B.V. was a man who understood power the way some men understand weather — instinctively, quietly, and from a considerable distance. Colonel Edward M. House.
Investor. Statesman. And, not incidentally, the man who would become a famed advisor to United States President Woodrow Wilson, known for his national political influence.
House brought in serious associates: Frank Andrews, who had served as assistant attorney general of Texas; Robert H. Baker, statesman and insurance executive; and Benjamin F. Yoakum, a lifetime railroad man and agriculturist.
Not a casual bunch of men. The kind of names that got things built. And built they did.
From 1902 to 1907, they laid track from Houston to Cleburne. Then, with special trackage arrangements, the line became a short-cut hauler — Galveston to Fort Worth and Dallas. This railway introduced diesel passenger streamliners to the state of Texas.
It belonged to the Burlington-Rock Island complex for most of its first sixty years of service. And here's a number worth sitting with: Texas reached a peak of seventeen thousand and seventy-eight miles of railroad in 1933. Seventeen thousand miles of track lacing through this state.
Trains still hold respected roles in freight hauling today, the marker reminds us. But something is gone. The marker says it plainly, and plainly is the right way to say it.
The era of regulating family clocks by the passage of the Boll Weevil — or some other train — is now largely a matter of warmly-cherished history. Family clocks. Set by a train whistle.
That's not just transportation. That's a whole way of life, right there in one quiet line. And the marker doesn't mourn it loudly.
It just calls it warmly-cherished. Which somehow makes it land harder.
What the marker says
Important Texas transportation artery. Chartered as Trinity & Brazos Valley Railway. Nicknamed for special trains roaring down its tracks, taking men to "Boll Weevil Conferences"-- in turn of century alarm over pests attacking cotton and the economy. Another nickname for road was "Turnip & Bean Vine". The T. & B.V. was founded by an investor-statesman, Col. Edward M. House, famed for his national political power as advisor of U. S. President Woodrow Wilson. House's associates included Frank Andrews, formerly assistant attorney general of Texas; Robert H. Baker, statesman and insurance executive; and Benjamin F. Yoakum, lifetime railroad man and agriculturist. Road was built 1902-1907 from Houston to Cleburne, and with special trackage arrangements it became a short-cut hauler from Galveston to Fort Worth and Dallas. It introduced diesel passenger streamliners to Texas; belonged to Burlington-Rock Island complex during most of its first 60 years of service. Texas attained a peak of 17,078 miles of railroads in 1933. Trains still have respected roles in freight hauling. But the era of regulating family clocks by passage of the "Boll Weevil" or some other train is now largely a matter of warmly-cherished history. (1968)