FORT DAVIS Administrative History

Despite his misgivings about the local effort on behalf of Fort Davis, Garrison sought resolution as best he could. He learned from society members of the creation of the Texas Historical Commission, and promised to seek more information about it. He also believed that the society "does not appear to be a group that will have any money to spend, and will be limited in its functions to advisory assistance only." The superintendent then reported to the Santa Fe office that "1954 is the Centennial Year for Fort Davis and they are hoping to use this as a publicity feature to secure interest in their problem." Garrison warned Tillotson: "The first job remains for them to pull together better, and this is a field where I do not believe that we can provide leadership." He then closed with a personal note that revealed why the post attracted so much attention, despite opposition or indifference to its park status: "My own grandfather who went to the California goldrush in 1849 over the Old Overland Trail, had undoubtedly been at Fort Davis both coming and going." Garrison "had not anticipated this personal tie-in with the local history," and as a result "offered to consult with them at any time they felt it would be helpful." [21]

The society was not long in taking Garrison at his word, with Sally Tweedy writing him on June 15 asking for his help in "bringing Old Fort Davis to the attention of the National Parks Advisory Board." Garrison referred to NPS manuals on the matter, and informed the regional office (as had Aubrey Neasham 14 years earlier) that "this fort might well come within classification XI of the major historical themes, Westward Expansion and the Extension of the National Boundaries, 1830-1890." He urged consideration because of the deteriorating condition of the property, but cautioned that "the matter of land status and maintenance and operational procedures should be gone into before anything further is done." Tillotson's reply indicated the ironic political clout of such an isolated place as Fort Davis: "A general survey of the old U.S. military posts of the frontier in the Southwest was requested by the Washington Office some time ago, arising specifically from a recommendation on Fort Davis." The study was "to be completed this year, if at all possible, for the consideration of the Advisory Board at their November [1953] meeting." The regional director believed that "Fort Union, New Mexico, Fort Bowie, Arizona, and Fort Davis are sure to be at the top of the list." Until then, all Tillotson could advise was for Garrison "to keep in touch generally with the Fort Davis Historical Society." Also indicative of the political sensitivity of the report, the director told the Big Bend superintendent: "We leave this entirely to you, and I feel that you have handled it excellently to date. Your memorandum of June 11 is a particularly clear and helpful report on the situation." [22]

Because it had studied Fort Davis several times in the past, the regional office of the Park Service realized how complex the political networks in Texas could be. This became evident in August 1953, when U.S. Senate Minority Leader Lyndon B. Johnson (D-TX) received a letter from Pecos optometrist Glenn E. Stone. Dr. Stone and his family had visited Big Bend for the first time after 35 years of residence in west Texas , and they wanted to inform their state's powerful senator of their dislike of the experience. "I have never seen more desolate, barren God forsaken country," said Stone, "particularly to be a national park," and he wondered how the Congress could "justify a cent of federal or state money being spent on it." The Pecos physician then informed Johnson: "What makes it difficult to understand is why the National Park Service and federal government would pass up an area of outstanding natural beauty such as is found around Ft. Davis." Stone considered the site "a point of high historical interest with lots of possibilities of development and restoration for that uninteresting wasteland." Stone marveled at the large number of people picnicking in the Davis Mountains on summer weekends, which made it "hard to find a spot that is not already taken," and hoped that Johnson could provide an answer to his question about the history of the park service in far west Texas. [23]

Known for his constituent service as well as his power in the halls of Congress, the top-ranked Democrat in the Senate submitted a terse inquiry to the NPS: "I will appreciate your giving serious consideration to this problem [the Stone letter] , based on its merits. Please let me have as prompt a reply as possible." Hillory Tolson, formerly director of the Santa Fe regional office and then-acting director of the NPS, responded to Johnson by apologizing for Stone's "uncomplimentary opinion of Big Bend." Tolson politely informed the Texas senator: "Many others have been impressed by the spectacular canyons, the geologic interest and the plant and animal life of the Park - features which were judged to be so outstanding as to merit inclusion in the National Park System." The acting director went on to describe in glowing terms the flora and fauna of the Rio Grande and Chisos Mountains, and gently reminded Johnson: "You are, of course, familiar with the great interest in the State of Texas and elsewhere in the preparations being made for the formal dedication of the Park in 1954;" an event to be attended by no less a personage than President Dwight D. Eisenhower, himself a Texas native. [24]

Because of its ongoing study of western forts, the park service decided to include some of its findings in Tolson's reply to Senator Johnson. He identified Fort Laramie National Monument on the North Platte River in eastern Wyoming as the service's choice "to interpret the role of the United States Army in aiding the opening and settlement of the American West." The letter referred to the advisory board study of southwestern posts, most notably Forts Union, Bowie, and Davis. He then mentioned a concept that President Eisenhower, a fiscal conservative, preferred for the Interior department's many projects in natural resource development; "partnership," or the collaboration of state and federal agencies to reduce costs for both parties. "Many western forts and military posts, of course," said Tolson, "images/figured prominently in our early Western history, but the Service must count upon the States and local patriotic organizations to preserve them." The Park Service to date managed 118 "historical areas," spread throughout the nation "to commemorate, so far as possible, the most significant phases of American history, within the limits of funds available for historical conservation." Tolson closed by reminding Johnson: "It is our hope that the States will be able to supplement our work by preserving other places deserving of historical conservation measures," and he said of Stone's inquiry: "We appreciate knowing of Dr. Stone's views and hope that this information will be useful to him." [25]

Lyndon Johnson's interest in the Fort Davis case put regional NPS officials on notice to monitor the work of the advisory board. In late September 1953, Lon Garrison informed his Santa Fe superiors that the Texas Garden Clubs had met in Alpine, with their 128 members agreeing to promote the necessity of preserving the grounds and buildings. In addition, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram covered the appointments of Governor Shivers to the state historical survey committee. Garrison had good news to report about the Simmons' selling price, as Mrs. Simmons supposedly "has now placed a more reasonable valuation on the land and probably the Fort Davis Historical Society will secure a firm option within a short time." Aiding the local interests was Glenn Burgess, president of the Alpine-based West Texas Historical and Scientific Society. Garrison then requested that George Grant, the famed park service photographer, stop at Fort Davis upon his departure from Big Bend, "because of the current interest in this project and the meeting of the Historical Sites Advisory Committee this fall." Grant in turn advised John O. Littleton, Region III historian, to call on Mrs. Simmons while in Fort Davis for his "brief study of the frontier military posts of the Southwest" that he was crafting for the upcoming board meeting. Littleton did not want "to give the impression that my visit implies" park service commitment. Thus he asked Superintendent Garrison to offer some advice on the sentiments of the local sponsors prior to his arrival in the Davis Mountains. [26]

Garrison's correspondence about the historical survey commission was prompted in part by the assiduous cultivation of that board by the Fort Davis proponents. An example of their exertions came in a letter from Barry Scobee and other members of the Old Fort Davis Company. Writing in November to Judge J.R. Wheat, chairman of the selection committee for state historic sites, Scobee et al. , offered to travel to Austin to speak to Wheat's organization on behalf of a post that they deemed a "famous and remarkable old landmark that is so interwoven with Federal, Confederate, and Indian history." The Scobee party then informed Wheat that they knew "that in the same month President Eisenhower will dedicate the Big Bend National Park." Scobee hoped that Wheat's board could "induce the President to appear at the old fort celebration and thereby focus public landmarks." Gene Hendryx of Alpine, by now employed at KVLF radio, remembered that the locals believed that they could convince the former Supreme Allied Commander of the merits of Fort Davis because of his military background. Thus the Old Fort Davis Company was disappointed yet again when the White House could not accommodate their request. [27]

Inured by this time to the vagaries of park promotion, the historical society proceeded throughout 1954 with plans to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the establishment of Fort Davis. The event, which was held on the weekend of October 9-10, tapped the historic resources of the Davis Mountains like no other celebration that old-timers could remember. John G. Prude, of the prominent local ranching family, was president that year of the historical society, and he also served as grand marshal of the parade. Jacobsen and Nored mentioned that this event "represented nearly every family in the area, some of which included four generations." By having the major economic interests heavily involved, along with the public schools, the society for the first time demonstrated the potential for Fort Davis to serve as a focal point for community life. This expansive mood touched the Hispanic neighborhood of town, as they hosted a rodeo and barbecue. In keeping with another old tradition, however, Anglo and Hispanic revelers retreated to separate dances in the evenings; the latter at the Anderson elementary school, the former at the high school. And in keeping with the legendary character of the celebration, Herbert Smith, superintendent of the Fort Davis school system, directed the "Indian Emily Pageant," which Pansy Evans Espy, related to two prominent families in the area, remembered decades later as very moving, if not historically accurate. [28]

The centennial celebration continued for several years after 1954, with its successor first the "Old Fort Days," then a more modest picnic at the cottonwood grove east of the post. The historical society, however, made do without the services either of the park service or of Sally and Bish Tweedy. In February of that year, Lon Garrison received word from the NPS advisory board that "while Old Fort Davis was mentioned, no definite favorable action was taken on designation as a desirable area for inclusion." The Big Bend superintendent "assumed that this simply means that the Advisory Board is awaiting a further study and report, although generally favorable to the idea of preserving evidences of the western expansion." Garrison then asked Regional Director Tillotson about the most sympathetic means of explaining this to the local historical society, as "you are much closer to the overall picture including Fort Bowie and Fort Union than I am." Tillotson was not optimistic, telling Garrison: "The net effect of the Advisory Board reaction concerning Fort Davis . . . is that although it might be desirable to have Fort Davis or Fort Bowie or both, as well as Fort Union, it is not practical at the present time to make any attempt at acquisition or even recommendation." Again the rationale was the scarcity of funds in a conservative political age. Garrison's reply to the Fort Davis sponsors was thus the same as in previous studies: "The National Park Service . . . could re-consider Fort Davis only if and when appropriations become adequate for the minimum essential current needs of existing areas." [29]

No amount of local enthusiasm could substitute for federal spending on Fort Davis or its restoration, and this latest rejection at the hands of the advisory board traumatized the Simmons family and the Tweedys alike. Both faced bleak financial futures with their fortunes linked to private management of the fort; the former in need of monies to reduce the debt on the property, while the latter faced a growing family (two daughters born while the Tweedys lived on the post grounds) with no increase in income to compensate. In the fall of 1953, Bish Tweedy explored the possibility of teaching in the local public schools, but discovered that he needed a state of Texas teaching credential. In order to do so, he moved his family the 26 miles to Alpine to attend Sul Ross Teachers College. The Tweedys, who had done so much to revitalize Barry Scobee's dream of a park at Fort Davis, thought that they could negotiate with Mrs. Simmons to permit them to leave the property vacant during the week (when the Tweedys hosted few visitors), and return on weekends to meet their obligations to the public.

When Mrs. Simmons heard the Tweedys' request, she denied it categorically, saying that she could not have the property left unattended. This exacerbated the strain under which both families operated. At one point Mrs. Simmons demanded that the Tweedys vacate the fort, and Bish and Sally found themselves without support. Their fate turned out better than expected, as Bish gained employment through the Princeton network at a private boys' school outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where for 24 years he taught history. The Tweedys did not discard their love of local history and old military posts, however, as they took over management of Fort Ligonier near their new home, and restored it to the point that Fort Ligonier Days became the largest historical celebration in western Pennsylvania. [30]

For the remainder of the 1950s, the Fort Davis Historical Society labored to maintain some semblance of continuity in their quest to purchase the post from Mrs. Simmons. Custodians came and went with the same frequency as before, none of whom could make Fort Davis any more of a paying proposition than Sally and Bish Tweedy. The society tried to make the "Old Fort Days" more of a carnival than an historical celebration, as in 1956 they brought to town Oklahoma Indian dancers, Navajo sand painters, museum exhibits from the Big Bend Art Club, soldiers from the Texas National Guard, and the Odessa Junior College drill team, "Las Senoritas de las Rosas." Once again they produced the "Indian Emily" episode to the delight of visitors, and served buffalo meat at the barbecue; certainly an historical novelty in the heart of Texas cattle country. Events such as these cost nearly as much as the celebration received in gate receipts, however, and in that year the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) came to Fort Davis to claim that the historical society (which apparently had not incorporated as a non-profit entity) owed back taxes on their income. This led to an embarrassing sequence of letters between Mrs. Simmons, the society, and the IRS that detailed just how far the locals needed to go to purchase the fort. Her asking price was $115,000, and the earned income was not sufficient to send Mrs. Simmons even $250 per quarter in lease payments, let alone make a down payment on the old frontier fort. [31]

In May 1957, U.S. Representative J.T. Rutherford (Democrat from Odessa) asked Barry Scobee to rekindle efforts to preserve the post with federal money. Elmo Richardson wrote that "the greatest obstacle to preservation of the natural environment" in the post-World War II years "was the American tradition of progress." For Americans touched by the double trauma of depression and global conflict, "renewed development of resources was elevated into one of the primary tasks of the federal government." In the late 1940s, a conservative Republican congress, eager to dismantle the excesses of the prewar New Deal, entertained a proposal from "several western congressmen . . . that units of the national park system be opened to mineral exploration and lumbering." Again in 1952, critics of the Interior department wanted that agency's operating principle to be "one of disposition, not acquisition," which Richardson described as " 'returning' the public domain and its resources to the states." The ascendancy of the World War II commander, Dwight D. Eisenhower, to the presidency from 1953-1961 brought to western resource development what Richardson called a "shared . . . belief in the commonality of individual effort and success." [32]

All was not lost for the patrons of American history and culture, however, as the competing force of preservation touched the West by the mid-1950s, culminating in the battle between two Interior department agencies, the NPS and the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation (USBR), over the latter's plans to construct a large multipurpose water project on the Colorado River within the boundaries of Dinosaur National Monument, on the border of western Colorado and eastern Utah. Massive outpourings of support for the park service (the famed Utah native and Harper's Magazine columnist, Bernard DeVoto, wrote a disparaging piece that year entitled, "Let's Close the National Parks") led Eisenhower officials to reject the USBR's scheme, and to push for NPS director Conrad Wirth's idea of "MISSION 66," described by Richardson as "a coordinated plan . . . whereby expanded facilities in parks and recreation areas would make it possible for the system to accommodate 80 million visitors by 1966 [coincidentally the golden anniversary of the park service itself, and the dedication of Fort Davis]." Wirth realized that political realities dictated every step that his agency took, and in Richardson's words, ensured the future of parks like Fort Davis because he "perceived that he could secure funds by making Republican legislators and administrators aware of the terrible conditions [in the system] and then turn the rescue actions to their political credit." [33]

Of equal benefit to the promoters of Fort Davis was the national mood by the late 1950s favoring the historical interpretation of the West that Lady Bird Johnson dramatized at the 1966 dedication ceremonies. Michael Kammen noted that MISSION 66 "meant striking expansion in historical programs and in types of historical sites." As the pressures of the baby boom, the Cold War, and the nascent civil rights movement entered the consciousness of Americans, Kammen detected a desire for nostalgia, which he defined as "most likely to increase or become prominent in times of transition, in periods of cultural anxiety, or when a society feels a strong sense of discontinuity with its past." By 1960 the nation, in Kammen's words, would seek anew "patriotism, hero worship, and their historical underpinnings." This phenomenon came to be known in later years as the "heritage emphasis," but Kammen believed that "heritage that heightens human interest may lead people to history for purposes of informed citizenship." Whatever the purposes of the Fort Davis boosters, the nation was more ready for remembrance of things past in the late 1950s than ever before, and the journey taken five decades earlier by Carl Raht and Barry Scobee to divine the story of the Davis Mountains would finally reach its end. [34]

Promoters of the old military post moved cautiously in the months after announcement of the MISSION 66 initiative, mindful of the rejections that their entreaties had met since the early 1920s. One reason was the lack of enthusiasm within the Southwest Regional Office of the park service (SWR), which had, in the words of its historian in the late 1950s, Robert M. Utley, "said all the right things about history," but which was "heavily archeological," dating to the days of Frank Pinckley and his formation of the Southwestern National Monuments (SWNM) organization in the 1920s.

Utley, who would become chief historian in the Washington office of the park service, and later director of its "Office of Archeology and Historic Preservation," pointed out in an interview in 1994 that SWR "moved slowly" on completing its historical research mandated by the 1935 Historic Site Survey. This was due in part to the NPS decision to suspend new surveys after World War II, given the conservative fiscal mood of Congress. All this would change, however, with MISSION 66, and in 1957 the park service reinstituted the Historical Survey project. [35]