DUANE
Duane's take
Here's how the official marker tells it, and I'll do my best to do it justice. Now, when you build a home on the Texas Gulf Coast, you've got a decision to make. You can build it light and hope for mercy — or you can build it like you mean it.
Col. Hugh B. Moore, it seems, meant it.
The year was 1912, and Moore put up this thirteen-room brick home in Galveston County. The walls are fourteen inches thick. And if that doesn't already sound like a man who'd thought things through, consider what he packed inside those walls: steel railroad rails as reinforcement.
The man was, after all, a transportation expert — so if he was going to use steel, he was going to use the kind he knew best. Moore was born in Tennessee in 1874, and by the time he planted his roots on the Texas coast, he'd become one of those rare figures who seemed to have a hand in just about everything that moved. He managed the Texas City Terminal Railroad.
He managed the Wolvin Steamship Line. He managed the Texas City Transportation Company and the Mainland Company. He was a banker.
He helped lead the building of the dike, the enlarging of the port, and the effort to bring industries into the region. The man was in motion — professionally, economically, and apparently architecturally. Then the world went to war.
In World War I, Moore served as director of army transports, and in 1917 he secured emergency coal as fuel for the armies. The marker doesn't hedge on that one — it says that securing helped to save allied efforts. That's the kind of sentence you sit with for a moment.
He wasn't finished. When World War II arrived, Moore came back as an adviser in transportation. Two world wars.
One man. Same expertise. But here's what I love about this story — and the marker makes sure you don't miss it.
His wife, Helen, Helen Edmunds Moore, was a force in her own right. She served two terms in the Texas Legislature in the 1930s, and while she was there, she worked to improve conditions in state institutions. She was a leader in numerous civic activities.
And together, she and Moore helped found the local library — which was named in their honor in 1929. Now. Back to that house.
In 1915, a hurricane came through. The home withstood it. Then, on a different kind of terrible day, the 1947 Texas City ship explosion sent shockwaves across the region.
The home withstood that too. Fourteen-inch walls. Railroad-rail bones.
Distinguished persons have visited within those walls over the years — the marker makes a point of saying so, without naming names, which honestly leaves the imagination with a little room to wander. Col. Hugh B.
Moore lived until 1944, so he didn't see that explosion. But the house he built in 1912 did — and it's still standing to tell the tale. Some things, built with enough intention and enough steel, just refuse to give way.
What the marker says
Built 1912 by Col. Hugh B. Moore (1874-1944), transportation expert. Born in Tennessee, he managed Texas City Terminal Railroad, Wolvin Steamship Line, Texas City Transportation Co., Mainland Co. Was a banker, leader in building dike, enlarging port, and bringing in industries. He was director of army transports, World War I. His securing of emergency coal as fuel for armies, 1917, helped to save allied efforts. Was adviser in transportation, World War II. His wife Helen (Edmunds) served 2 terms in Texas Legislature in 1930s. There she helped improve conditions in state institutions. She was a leader in numerous civic activities and, with Moore, helped found the local library, named in their honor in 1929. This spacious, 13-room brick home has walls 14 inches thick with steel railroad rails as reinforcements. It withstood the 1915 hurricane and the 1947 Texas City ship explosion. It has been visited by distinguished persons. Recorded Texas Historic Landmark - 1968