Nocona, Texas
– A Sunrise Stroll Through Time.
On a recent Sunday, just as the sun began to rise, I found myself in Nocona, Texas, standing in front of First Christian Church (now named the Central Christian Church), built in 1894. I was there for Mansfield Photography, aiming to capture the town with the best possible morning light. This trip was particularly meaningful for me because Nocona is the place my great grandpa, Dexter Maxwell, called home for many years and where my grandpa, Oral Maxwell, was born.
Nocona, Texas, is best known for its history tied to the leather industry, particularly the production of high-quality cowboy boots, belts, and gloves, which earned it the nickname “The Leather Goods Capital of Texas.” Founded in the 1880s and named after the Comanche chief Peta Nocona, the town thrived as a hub for ranching and farming communities. This is where my family lived in the 1910s.
Tracing Family Roots
I began my day at the Central Christian Church and worked my way through the beautiful downtown. While walking along Main Street—ironically not the true “main street” of town, which is actually Clay Street—I crossed Oak Street and came across an old building with vintage gas pumps. Parts of this building strikingly resembled a photograph I have from around 1910, showing my great grandpa standing in front of his shop. Back in my great grandpa’s day, they wouldn’t have had pumps, but one could imagine their addition. For a brief moment, I let myself believe this could be his old shop, even though I knew the odds of a wooden building surviving more than a century were slim. Still, I snapped a few photos and allowed myself to imagine that this was where my great grandpa once ran his business.
Making a connection to the past, especially through photography, is always a special experience. But being in Nocona, where my own family lived and worked, gave me a deeper, more intimate connection to the town.
Grandpa’s Memoir of Nocona
My grandpa, Oral Maxwell, wrote a short memoir in the late 1970s, recalling his early years in Nocona. Here’s his firsthand account of life in the town. I took some liberty and added headers:
Life in Nocona in the Early 1900s
“Nocona, Montague County, Texas was like countless other little farming towns. A general merchandise store, probably a bank and maybe a doctor. I don’t know as I was delivered by a mid-wife—One Mrs. Featherwait. I know for sure it had a wagon yard and blacksmith shop because it was owned and operated by my dad, Dexter M Maxwell. By 1910 there were a few cars and they were the old horseless carriage kind. Dad owned one, but since they weren’t very reliable, we depended on the old stand-by, a wagon and horses to get us to our destination. Not only did Dad own the wagon yard and blacksmith shop, he also had the only filling station in town… It consisted of barrels of gasoline…”
The Log Cabin Beginnings
“When the family arrived in Nocona, dad [Dexter] settled the family onto a farm with a log cabin for a house. It was in this log cabin I was born; February 11, 1910.“
“We then moved to another farm close to Nocona, but within a quarter of a mile of a little country school house. The area was called Farmers Creek. There wasn’t anything spectacular about the farm; it was only about 80 acres. The house had two rooms and set on blocks for a foundation. We had a horse named Bill. He was in his 20’s then. When we returned to Oklahoma [many years later], we took him with us where he retired and died of old age. Our dog was a bird dog named Toad, and we had a black cat. That was the first cat I remember. My family (parents) weren’t too fond of cats. They were for one purpose only and that was to keep down mice, rats, gophers, and maybe snakes.”
Innovation and Ingenuity
“Dad owned a car, but since it wasn’t very reliable to drive back and forth to work, he rode a bicycle. This was an ingenious invention on Dad’s part. We lived close to the railroad tracks. Since Dad owned the blacksmith shop and was very handy, he built something that fit onto his bicycle so the bike would travel right on the rail. Not down between the rails, the ties, but up on one of the rails.”
From Horse Riding to Walking
“Dad was a great one for walking. He could really cover a lot of ground in a short time. When he was a young man he was one of the very best hands at riding horses. He had a very good reputation as a rider. Sometime after he married, he quit riding horses and as far as I know, never rode another horse. I never knew the reason he quit.”
A Restless Spirit
“Sometime between 1910 and 1915 [to the reader, my guess is 1914], Dad once again became restless. The farm was traded for another farm in New Mexico. The wagon was loaded and we were once again on our way. Destination? Close to Clovis, New Mexico. Old Bill, our pet horse, made the trip with us, helping pull the wagon. While we were in New Mexico, Grandpa Dabney ran the business in Nocona. That way, if farming in New Mexico didn’t pay, there would be something to fall back on.”
“The farm in New Mexico had a nice house and domestic water. Also, there was plenty of wind, snow and storms. It was prairie land and tumbleweeds. The farm didn’t pay, and after only one farming season, we returned to Texas.”
“Dad ran the wagon yard for about another year and in July or August 1916, we again were on the road. For some reason, Dad headed west out of Nocona and across the King Ranch. Old Bill was once again hitched to a wagon with another horse and we were on our way. Mother always wanted milk for the family, so a cow was tied to the back of the wagon. The children walked a good part of the way. I was only six years old then, and maybe it just seemed to me, I walked forever.”
Validation and Insights
Recently, I spent a morning at the Montague County Clerk’s Office, combing through records that validated key locations where Dexter, my great grandpa, lived while in Nocona. The first was a 160+ acre property, and the second was in the Farmer’s Creek area, close to the school.
Regarding the location of my great grandpa’s shop, it turns out Dexter owned two properties in downtown Nocona. One was on the outskirts, and the other much closer to the heart of town. Unfortunately, neither property matched the gas station I had found, which I was hoping might have been his old shop.
Nocona’s downtown history reveals that most of its enduring brick and stone buildings were constructed along Clay Street. Before that, Front Street (now Willow Street) was the main thoroughfare, lined with wooden buildings across from the railroad tracks, which were removed in 1971. One of the properties Dexter owned was on Clay Street, right next to the old hotel building.
Connecting with the Past: A Conversation and Discovery
During my visit, I had the pleasure of speaking with Robert Fenoglio, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. He explained that none of the brick buildings existed on Clay Street where my great grandpa Dexter owned his property; most were built in the mid-1920s. In Dexter’s day, Front Street was the center of town. So, it’s possible his shop was once located on Clay Street, where his property stood.
The Value of Family Stories
Standing in Nocona, reflecting on my grandpa’s stories, I felt an intimate connection to the past. Every small Texas town I visit for my photography work offers a glimpse into history, but this visit felt especially personal.
When we’re young, we often focus on what lies ahead. But as we age, we start to look back more, and those memories gain new importance. To my children, now all adults, stories like these may seem like a yawn-fest. I take that back, they tell me this stuff is boring (smiley face emoticon). But having the opportunity to match family recollections with real places is an amazing experience. It deepens my appreciation for my family heritage.
I never met my great grandpa Dexter—he passed more than 25 years before I was born—but I knew my grandpa, Oral. I vividly recall moments from my childhood at my grandparents’ house when I imagined that one day, I’d be like them. Now, as I look back at my family line, even before Dexter, I realize there’s a rich heritage I never fully appreciated—and still probably don’t.
A Glimpse into the Past
When we think of the past, it’s easy to romanticize it. But my grandpa Oral offered a more grounded perspective:
“Close your eyes and let your mind wander to movies you have seen made with a setting at the turn of the century. No automobiles as we know them, no paved roads with signal lights every few blocks with great lines of traffic impatiently waiting their turn to rush two blocks to the next signal light so they can wait some more.“
“No housing tracks marching down paved streets as soldiers in identical uniforms. Most uncanny of all is no television antenna [for you young kids, this is already outdated!] on every roof top looking as though it was standing guard over its people below. Inside the home no automatic washing machine humming merrily as another load of clothes turning loose the dirt and grime of men at work and children at play. No refrigerator to raid at will of food kept fresh and cold to eat when you are hungry. No freezer to store ice cream to eat as a treat on hot sticky days. No vacuum cleaner hungrily gulping great quantities of dust and dirt tracked in from outside.”
It’s tempting to idealize the past, especially when reflecting on family history. But life back then wasn’t easy. There were undoubtedly hard times alongside the good. Being in Nocona stirred a range of emotions for me, making me think about my place in the family tree—where I came from and where I’m going.
A Legacy of Love and Commitment
My great grandpa Dexter married Mollie Dabney, and they had six children. They stayed together until Dexter’s death in 1941. My grandpa Oral married Joyce Spencer, and they had two children. After my grandpa passed, I visited my grandma as often as I could. Watching her struggle after his death was hard, especially since she had been my confidante when I was young. She passed just a few years after him.
My father, David, married Barbara McLaughlin, and they had six children (me being one of the six). My dad passed away much younger than expected, at the age of 50. My mother never remarried, and I still consider her to be married to my dad.
In our family, while the tradition of lifelong marriage didn’t start with Dexter, it’s something I was born into. It’s a legacy one would hope to pass on to their children. As I grow older, I think more about the mark I’ll leave behind. When my children—or their children—are old enough to appreciate these stories, what heritage am I leaving behind? The answer, as always, is some things you can choose, others you can’t.
A Call to Preserve Stories
I encourage everyone to write down their memories, even if it’s just a few lines. Doing so creates connections across generations. When I began my day with the sun rising in front of Central Christian Church, I imagined Dexter and Mollie walking into that very building with their children in tow, on a Sunday much like the one I was visiting.
My grandpa’s few written words about his memories of Nocona gave me a special connection to this town—one that spans generations, linking the past to the present in ways I never expected.
Author: Tim Maxwell, October 13th, 2024
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