I found a Vintage Bridal wedding box in our newly purchased home. I love looking at old stuff; it takes my mind to why it exists, who wanted it, who created it, what its purpose was, how it worked out, and what impact it had.

I imagine a great story behind every creation. Just like the Holy Scriptures, storybooks, comic strips, plays and television shows, the opera, radio programs, music, and Hollywood movies, something is being told. Not every story is good; others are great, but no matter what, we all can learn from its outcome. I have always been curious, a natural wanderer, discoverer, and seeker. When hiking, I look for peculiar things; when beachcombing, I study all I find and wonder in awe of its journey and creation. When I travel and see mountains and marvelous things, I imagine watching them from birth to how they became what they are today and will become. As you lean in, the vintage box above will be revealed in full circle.

Same with people, some people and lives I am drawn to; I can feel a good spirit or a good story, even if it may be sad, I am drawn to want to know. Other people I learn about or come to see, I search and discover the nature of the soul through multiple lenses. For example, regarding the latter, I have always inquired about my biological Grandfather, Jack Gossett (he changed his last name and middle initial after he left my Grandmother). I had learned from many family members that he was not a good person and that I should not seek answers. “Don’t go there,” said multiple family members. His is a dead-end story, you know what I am telling you, and that is all there is. However, for decades, I would dabble in finding out more than what I had been told. During the terrible COVID lockdowns, I was given some added time on my hands. After 100 hours of social media exploring, state archives online, old community reports, phone calls, letters, emailing, texting, and ancestry searches with DNA matches, I made a breakthrough!

I discovered a novel full of information I could never have imagined. None of it was good, but what I had learned from my family members was only 10% correct. Nonetheless, the things one may uncover and discover from a simple thought can be remarkable, extraordinary, and even unbelievable. These are my kind of stories, again, learning from each one. I love history. The good, the bad, the ugly.

What is Your DREAM Job?

If I could change my work life, like go back and alter my choice of profession, besides being a mom, which is epic, also because my kids gave me grandkids, which is my heart! I just wish I had more time on my hands, less work, more family time. Nonetheless, everything turned out great. Still, if I could make a change in my spare time, I would have liked to be an archaeologist. I hope one day I can grab a big bowl of hot buttered popcorn, dark chocolate-covered caramel, ice-cold Mexican Coke, and a cozy blanket and watch the grand movie on a big screen from the beginning of time told by God. That would be epic! Until that dream, and when something catches my interest, I dive in or put it aside until I do. I currently have numerous stories to discover.

This Old House

Back to the vintage dress box. By the way, they don’t make ’em like they used to. This box is in excellent condition. Seeing it was placed in a pile of other items in the non-insulated super hot garage. I figured it was left on purpose; the owner’s daughters didn’t want to toss it themselves or sell it, so perhaps they just left it with the house they were raised in as a hidden treasure. The box looked vintage enough, and when I did the math on the age of the previous owners, I’d say the timeline of when a wedding would have occurred and have needed the contents of this box would be the early 1950s. So, I was curious enough and asked my husband not to discard this box until I could take a better look. I can see a remnant of a veil or perhaps flowers in the box; maybe babies breathe as a keepsake. With my limited time, I needed to put this aside until I could give it my attention. It would be over a year before we could get that pile.

A Personal Trip down History Lane

I grew up on the Island here in Galveston, Texas. That was up until the last month of the 4th Grade. I never wanted to leave the island. I knew it was special, but my parents had other plans for the family during that era when my dad needed to be closer to his work. It took me over 40 years to return. Not that I didn’t want to return, but when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade. When I had my little ones, we were house hunting and trying to stay in Galveston Co, where we grew up and had our family nearby. I wanted a unique place but couldn’t find it.  I’ve never been one of a cookie-cutter subdivider, so we kept on searching. After six months and no avail, time was ticking, and my kid’s dad told me if we hadn’t found a place by now that, we would be moving to the country that I didn’t want.

I grew up watching my dad surf while my mom made surfer-beaded necklaces on the seawall, and my sister and I ran around on the beach feeding Cheetos and Fritos to seagulls. I’m not a country girl with knowledge of horses and tractors; I can dig a garden, but that was about it. I was a waterscape, beaches, sunsets, ocean sound, or at least the marine life, but not the country. I had been living the last years of my school in a farmhouse on the side of a highway, with a yard filled with cows and hay, and all I heard was the train going by, cows mooing, and cars riding by on the way. Then, when I got married, it was off to where no family was. My kid’s dad had joined the ARMY, and we lived on a base of tanks, soldiers, MPs, and what looked like cookie-cutter government duplexes. I did that for four years, and let’s sum it up as well: I wouldn’t say I liked it at all. So when the moment arrived, we left the ARMY and moved back to the coast. We had been in a rented home for almost two years. One was in LaMarque, which we could afford, and the other was in Bacliff near a marina; both had their little issues, which we knew we could survive temporarily. Be that as it may, we were both tired of the rental life and ready to get into something of our own, but still, I had my heart set on the water.

In all our seeking, and myself unwilling to compromise on the uniqueness, the kid’s dad pulled out a Texas map. He said pick a spot, close your eyes, and point cause that’s where we will hitch our wagon! I didn’t want to make such a wild pick, but he was severe, and we ran out of time. So, I placed my hand over my eyes, twirled my finger in the air like a wand, and landed my index finger, and upon lifting, I landed on BELLVILLE, TEXAS.

The first thing out of my mouth was, “What’s a Bell Ville”? All I heard after was ‘Get in the Van”, and next thing you know, we moved to Bellville. The home was unique but still in the country, snakes and all. After the marriage dissolved, I just wasn’t meant to be. I would, however, remain in the country for decades due to children and business. I felt like the Israelites who wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, good moments and bad, but I knew one day I would return to the salt air, breeze, aesthetic views of the gulf, palms, and sunsets glistening off the beaches and seawall.

I sold my business in the Brazos Valley after 25 years of service teaching martial arts, Leadership, and Self-Defense to the community, and I was ready to return to my Island. It would take 11 months to find the perfect place, only after quickly settling in a rental home while we looked for a forever home.

 I grew up on the west side of the island, and at least that’s what I recall most. We had lived on some other streets in Midtown, but it was near the airport, Crockett Park, and what is now Moody Gardens, where we kids rode bikes, played ball, rode the school bus, shopped at Gerlands, got penny candy from Lukes, watched the church on 77th get built, and went trick-or-treating up and down Klieman. I treasure my memories like antiquity.

Moving on Up, a television jingle I’ve loved since childhood

I never knew about Denver Court growing up, which is where I live now; a nickname I have given it is The Zion Home; I have a few. But when I discovered it a few years back, I fell in love with the big streets, unique houses, big trees, Palm Tree branches swaying in the wind, the waves rolling and crashing on the seawall when the tide is high, and birds, lush flowers, and well-kept lawns. It was a no-brainer. This is where I hoped we would find a home. I was not looking for just any house; living in Galveston on the Island, you may well know that you will need to give up something, compromise a thing for another. Examples we ran into was garage but you get a laundry room or vice versa, or small closets but big rooms or vice versa, Or no pantry, only electric vs gas, no counter space or no guest restroom, either back yard or front yard may be a decent size but not both, or what you may be next too, telephone wires, apartment complexes, homes so close to you that you can touch from your window, too old, too new… I can go on with a list of multiple compromises one might have to make, but I won’t because to each his own, I knew what I wanted and hoped for the best. So when I came upon this home it was like when Clark Griswald first laid eyes on Wally World. I knew it was going to be mine, and I knew in my gut even without walking inside that there would be no compromising.

Hitching Our Wagon

Denver Court is a historic neighborhood in Galveston, Texas, it was established in the 1920’s. According to google, it was A group of doctors that developed the neighborhood as a suburban enclave to protect their property values. I guess it kind of fits I am married to one. Also when I looked more into this property and neighborhood I learned that Denver Court is considered Galveston’s first area of modern homes that aren’t Victorian, and the first neighborhood to break away from the 19th-century street grid pattern. The neighborhood is located a few blocks north of the seawall and covers more than 30 blocks. I don’t ever need white noise to sleep as I can hear the waves rolling right inside my home, I love it! I especially LOVE it, embrace and call it blessed as we moved from a although historically interesting property in Washington Texas where the Last President of Texas resided on the land, and they built an exact replica of the home on Washington on The Brazos. It was Copperhead infested! Lord knows my dealing with all those evil copperheads. I’ll take Hurricane warnings and inclement weather over these killers any day!

I love this unique house, although we are not finished making it our own signature with our personal touches and flare in each room, we are loving the journey. Denver Court is special, it is known for its architectural diversity, which includes late 19th and 20th century Revivals, Spanish Eclectic, Italian Renaissance, French Eclectic, Colonial Revival, Monterrey Tutor Revival, Neo-Classical, American Movements, Craftsman, and Prairie School. The neighborhood also has a variety of homes, from speculator-built cottages to large mansions designed by architects. I called this my Castle Cottage from the moment I saw it (1^st nickname); I didn’t even know its history, but it seems perfectly fitting.

They Don’t Make Then Like They Use To

I love the Brady Bunch era, homes I grew up watching on television. This house has some vintage bones and with the colors and spaces I felt connected.   It was built in 1963, later added on in 1969 and again in 2005. It is a large home, the designer had great ideas. I do believe the original owners, the Brady, as a couple designed it and had it custom built. They included 1950-60’s era style colors from I love Lucy pink and Yellows from Tupperware with accents of heavy crystal knobs on the doors, beautiful wall paper, perfectly crafted bathroom tiles of pinks, black, white, yellow, maroon. A vintage kitchen with a stove top, mop closet, cut in spice cabinet, peek hole windows, sturdy wood floors, stairs and doors. I am making each room with it’s own theme and vibe. We are about 40% done, lots to go but again so little time and with limited funds.  We focused on main common rooms first and still even now have areas to unpack and get settled. We needed to take a break this Spring to get to the outside and create a garden and get bits organized of garage and my office. This is where this story leads, to the getting of the wedding box. Since time is never on anyone’s side, right after our garden we needed to focus on the chickens and custom build a henhouse. Then summer came, family visits, and a jam-packed busy schedule, then a small Hurricane. Yes, we were impacted and had some damage, everyone on the island I believe had damage, and the wait for getting back to normal lingered a little longer.

The unveiling finally commenced, no pun intended, and I was able to get back to my office and begin sorting through items that had been piling up. I opened the large wedding dress box with an oval peek hole adorned with baby blue tissue paper and a view of the partial veil. The box was partially tapped, so I gently lifted the white medical tape to get to the findings. I picked up the sweet vintage headpiece worn by the bride. It was baby’s breath, flowers (dried), a pink ribbon with small curls, and lace intertwined with the sheer netting added to the back. The veil train would have gone down about halfway of the gown. It was a sweet find, and I wondered what it must have looked like on the bride’s head with a matching dress and bouquet on her wedding day.

I researched further into what the trend was for that era. This is what I found according to an article called the Evolution of the Wedding Gown.

1950s, The surge of the voluminous ball gown. Fullness, in the 50s, is key. Lady Kennedy introduced the voluminous ball gown at her sumptuous wedding. Necklines embraced heart and boat shapes, and long sleeves were abandoned. For brides to maintain decency in Churches, boleros were commonly used. The fabric of choice was still silk, with its luxurious, satin finish. Wedding gowns, in this period, were often embellished with gloves and pompous veils. -Jul 12, 2021, By Hoesh International Ltd Admin.

I moved the baby blue tissue paper and found a perfectly well-kept wedding veil hat box with its octagon shape, printed store name in a shimmer metallic pink finish with a matching lid and elastic band for carrying. On the hat box is stamped HURLEY’S of Bay City. The box is pretty and a fun piece to decorate with. It made me wonder as I dug deeper into this shop and all the hats it created or sold for the ladies in the 50s. Was it still a thing? Is there an online gallery of photos I can browse and admire from the vintage era? Could there be a bridal section of the women who purchased the veils, and could I see what this bride looked like on her wedding day? I already googled and searched long and hard to find only a photo of Miss Theresa and her Bow James as they were dating, but none of the wedding.

Therefore, upon searching for Hurley’s on google and coming up with just air I called the Library in Bay City. I asked to speak with the local History department or towns Historian. I was directed to call the Matagorda Historical Society. I did, no one answered, and I left a message with just a little bit of information with my name and number and asked for a call back.

Three days later I got a call from a Jennifer from the Historical Society, I thanked her for taking the time to call me back and she asked me again what it was I was looking for. I shared that I was curious and wanted to see photos of a Bridal Shop or hat shop from the 1950’s located in Bay City, TX called Hurley’s. She paused and then as she repeated my request, she was sort of laughing. She explained to me that she knew very well about Hurley’s when she was younger but better and to why the laughter was that she was calling me from that very building! I said, “What a Small World, Imagine that.” She laughed and shared that it is now an annex for the Historical Society. She told me she would do some digging and send me what she found in photos. I thanked her for her help and sure enough the next day I got an email with what I consider pretty cool pics!

I may not be an archaeologist, but I did enjoy digging into this story! I hope you enjoyed it as well and I hope you have stories of hidden gems and treasures from your home. A fun fact is I also discovered poked into the wall in one of the closets three vintage hat pins. In other parts of the house were vintage Avon products, some small cook items from the 70s and 80s, and vintage matchbooks from the 50s. I have these items listed on my eBay Store if you care to check them out.

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