The LH7 Ranch in Houston's Shadow : The E.H. Mark's Legacy from Longhorns to the Salt Grass Trail - Hardcover

Sizemore, Deborah Lightfoot

9780929398280: The LH7 Ranch in Houston's Shadow : The E.H. Mark's Legacy from Longhorns to the Salt Grass Trail

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0929398289 ISBN 13: 9780929398280

Publisher: Univ of North Texas Pr, 1991

The story of Emil Henry Marks and his LH7 Ranch records not only the history of a unique family but also tells of the cattle business on the coastal prairies of Texas when ranching was the principal industry of the region, before Houston became a major metropolitan center and industry became king. It also chronicles the beginning of the Salt Grass Trail Ride, one of Houston's most enduring traditions.

Marks registered the LH7 brand in Harris County in 1898 and started the ranch with 63 acres of grass west of Houston and a few Longhorn cattle. By the early 1930s the LH7 was running 6,670 head on 36,000 acres. The city's shadow loomed over the LH7 in the 1940s and 1950s, and eventually a big bite of the ranch was condemned to protect booming Houston from flooding along Buffalo Bayou. At age seventy, Marks made the first Salt Grass Trail Ride in January 1952, which is reenacted each February to kick off the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.

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About the Author:

Deborah Lightfoot Sizemore writes about Western history and Texas business for magazines and for corporate clients. The granddaughter of a turn-of-the-century Panhandle-South Plains cowboy, she lives and works in the country south of Fort Worth.

The catastrophe of Black Tuesday, 29 October 1929, was a long time reaching the LH7 Ranch. While newspapers carried grim tidings of a national economy in collapse, with prices plummeting and unemployment soaring, the HOUSTON CHRONICLE in the spring of 1930 was also telling its readers that "Picturesque Cowboys and Herds of Milling Cattle" could still be "Found Near City." Giving the LH7's value as three hundred thousand dollars, the newspaper found it noteworthy that a 33,000-acre ranch with scores of cowboys and a touch of the Old West was operating just a short drive from the new Gulf Building, an art deco skyscraper rising thirty-seven stories over downtown Houston. Observed the reporter: "The only thing that fades the pioneer-day illusion is the presence of several automobiles. Occasionally a cowboy jumps from a gallant steed, gets into an automobile, and dashes to some distant point."

These were the LH7's glory days. Its spectacular rodeos and quality herds of Texas Longhorn and Brahman cattle made it nationally known. The ranch hosted a stream of notable visitors, among them Houston civic leaders who met there for regular all-night poker sessions. Eastern tourists arrived by carloads for a look at a real Texas spread. Urban newshounds went often to Barker to interview E.H., middle-aged by now and more colorful than ever. He gave them plenty to write about, collaborating with his cowboys to put on the show expected of the local cattle king.

But by 1933, cattle prices were plummeting and E.H. was beginning to worry. His pride prevented much talk of money troubles, but his wife and children knew hard cash was alarmingly scarce. For one thing, as daughter Maudeen remarked, "you didn't eat at anybody's house." Families were hard-pressed to feed their own youngsters. No one's table held enough for extra mouths.

Like many cattlemen, then or now, E.H. owed the local banker. In view of his excellent reputation, lenders in normal times were content to let the man run his business as he saw fit. They knew their money was safe. But with the economy collapsing around their ears, bank officials grew as jumpy as the frog legs that wife Maud would not have in her kitchen. Son Emory described a confrontation between his father and a panicky bank president:

"Dad had borrowed some money, I think it was thirty thousand or thirty-two thousand dollars, from the Houston National Bank. He had mortgaged cows for this money. He was selling steers all along, and he sold a bunch of steers. Melvin Rouff, the president, nearly had a fit. He said to E.H., 'You've sold those cattle and here you owe me and you've collected the money.'"

Rouff was wrong in suggesting any wrongdoing on E.H.'s part. The note was against the cows only. The steers were in the clear. Maudeen remembered her father's indignation at the banker's accusations: "E.H. felt his reputation for honest dealing had been questioned. He clenched his cigar in his mouth and told Rouff, 'You sit right here and I will run every damn cow on that note right thorugh this bank.'"

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