Hopkins Co. TX - Early Day Opera Houses From: June E. Tuck ************************************************************************ USGENWEB ARCHIVES NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of this consent. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. http://www.usgwarchives.net/ *********************************************************************** From the historical files of June E. Tuck, who does not validate or dispute any historical facts in the article. (Undated) Early Day Opera Houses By Hugh Bryson Hugh Bryson , former well-known Sulphur Springs boy, and now a resident of Florida, has written the following interesting. Just around the turn of the century the old Rogers Opera House on Main street was the entertainment center for Sulphur Springs. Leg o^Òmutton sleeves and whale bone collars were being relegated to the past. Occasionally some brazen actress making her appearance at our opera house would abandon custom and convention altogether and then from our favorite perch in the buzzard roost we would contemplate the facts of life. The balcony proper extended from about the middle of the house to the rear, but there were two narrow balconies on either side of the main balcony extending toward the stage furnished with long wooden benches. From our vantage point right over the stage and to one side we might miss something that was taking place on stage, but were compensated by what we saw backstage. A man is shot dead and dragged off, then through the wings we wold see him get up, dust off the seat of his pants, hitch up his gallowses and walk off. The folks out front thought it was real stuff, but we knew better. Repertoire companies, as they were know, would make regular annual appearances. There was also Moxie the Hindu, a regular attraction, whose hypnotic power exerted its influence over Uncle Jake DeBord^Òs billy goat as well as any of the citizenry who cared to participated, and if and when they did, the skeptical would wonder whether or not a fee was involved. Some of the old plays were time tested war horses such as The Messenger From Mars; When We Were Twenty-One; Brave Hearts: Under Two Flags (or was it three?) Count of Monte Cristo; Graustark; Samson of Yale, and others. Oh, that dashing young hero solidly draped in the red, white and blue and whether love or war as invincible as the atomic bomb. Then some ambitious actor would undertake Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, that criterion of the profession. Lights Out! The transition is being effected. The gentle and lovable Dr. Jekyll gives way to the brutal and sadistic Mr. Hyde while atmosphere is being generated backstage by a reed organ giving out with Yield Not To Temptation. All the performances were not as hammy as I am making it appear. There was the Albert Taylor Stock Company and Albert Taylor himself, who was our favorite, but, oh, those props! A parlor scene, a fireplace ablaze with a ten-watt red globe turned far enough away from the audience to prevent destroying the effect entirely, but Albert Taylor could take such obstacles in a hurdle. Dressed in his shiny black dressing robe and armed with his curved stem pipe he was as relaxed as a fresh used bath towel. His soft musical bass voice seemed to invite you to seat yourself in the easy chair by the hearthstone and share with him his fireside. I say these plays when I was a small boy. My youthful imagination might have influenced my judgement but is seems to me even not that Albert Taylor was an able actor under any standard, and if I were a dramatic critic I would stake my reputation on this statement. Our musical requirements were supplied by Al Wilson and his company. He was known as the golden voiced tenor, but we doubt if his singing justified such a high flowing compliment. He composed some of his songs, but even as I write this I am trying to recall one of the titles or an excerpt from one of the melodies but they have escaped my memory entirely, and so it goes with composers of the type. Mortgages were lifted from many old homesteads, international complications settled and love affairs consummated over a period of years, but it came to pass that civic pride could no longer tolerate the old opera house with its out-worn and out-moded facilities. If we say anything worth while we had to go the Dallas or Greenville, the latter thought it good enough for us hicks, but the worm turned. We came up with our new opera house on Jefferson Street, The Cotton Belt ran special trains from Mt. Pleasant for some of these shows, stopping at intermediate points. I was working for the Cotton Belt at this time, but if my memory serves me, the Kay also ran some specials from as far east as Pittsburg. Now some of the big-time shows were by-passing Greenville for our new opera house, much to the disgust of our neighboring metropolis, but a matter of civic pride to us. But this glory was short-lived. The movies moved in and our opera house moved out.