James Villanueva signs copies of Remembering Slaton, Texas at Barnes and Noble in Lubbock, Texas

Author James Villanueva reads from Remembering Slaton, Texas

I was on the cusp of being of that final generation of children born in Mercy Hospital. After the mid-eighties no one else, unless under unusual or dire circumstances, was born in Slaton.

I consider myself lucky.

Since then, the past 21 years out of my 29 on earth, I have had a Slaton address. Those few years away were for college and those, inevitable, self-discovery moments in life. Once again, I consider myself lucky to be back.

For the past year, I have had the honor of writing Slaton’s history.

Upon graduating from college, I couldn’t think of anywhere else I wanted to begin my life as a writer but in the comforts of my hometown. Being born at the right time, in the right place, and under the right circumstances everything fell into place and soon I was the one penning Slaton’s history.

I consider myself lucky.

When it comes to writing history, I used the tried and true, “learn as you go” mentality, which, as it turned out, seemed to be the basic theme of Slaton’s history – sometimes we learned, and sometimes we just continued trying.

Throughout the experience there were stories that saddened me to write. Stories of heartache, loss, grief, and disappointment were very much a part of Slaton’s history. Was I saddened with the idea of having to write these stories? Yes. Do I regret ever writing these stories? No.

It was these moments of tragedy that truly defined Slatonites. It was the stories of people overcoming adversity and those triumphs through heartache that really defined the type of people Slatonites have become over the past one hundred years – resilient.

There were also moments in Slaton’s history that seemed to impact me, personally.

I had read and knew about the years of segregation only through history books and what I had seen in movies and on television. It was a new and eye opening experience to read the stories from 1940s Slaton and the changes in views and opinions in 1960s Slaton and how that social change came with a price.

I can’t help but think, as a minority man, of the many people who sacrificed during the Jim Crow era for me. I have had the opportunity to graduate from high school with the equal opportunity of education as everyone else, to be able to have attended and graduated from the college of my choice, and to be sitting here in my office at The Slatonite.

I was born a few generations after those dark days in American history. I had to write about how that segregated mindset affected Slaton, not to place blame, but to understand why sometimes those hostilities sometimes linger. The past often serves as a compass towards where we need to be heading. When it comes to race relations, it may seem that sometimes, we get turned around. We need reminders to get us back on track to understand that it took all kinds to build Slaton, and it will take all kinds to forge its future.

Then there were the people who were left out of my writings. Sometimes those names weren’t given. Sometimes they didn’t fit into the context or within the direct line of the meaning behind the story. Sometimes, especially during the earlier parts of my journey, there was no one left to talk to. Those people did matter, as did all people who have been a part of Slaton during its entire existence, but it would be impossible to include everyone. What makes small towns so charming, is that civic pride comes before individual ego. Those legacies will last far longer through word of mouth than I could have accorded in my small column series.

From cave men to Constantine, the dark ages to the great enlightenment, it is widely known that storytelling has been the main foundation of any society. No matter the belief structure, be it evolution or creationism, stories have had the ability to transcend humans to the next level of enlightenment.

Now, after a short one hundred years of existence, Slaton has begun its story. We are all a part of that. We are all Slaton. We all belong.

The same quote continued to run through my head as I wrote each and every piece because it, respectfully, defines what it means to be a Slatonite. The quote is by Margaret Mead and it is with these words that I close my column series. Mead once said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed individuals can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

Thanks for sharing your stories with me but most of all thanks for allowing a young man to return home.

Meet author, James Villanueva, at the official, "Remembering Slaton, Texas: Centennial Stories 1911-2011" Book launch in the summer of 2011!

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1915 SHS Girls Basketball Team

Only four years after Slaton was incorporated as a town, in 1915, the Slaton Tigresses took to the court wearing long purple sweaters and deep purple skirts. They wore long stockings beneath the heavy skirts. Each player wore a matching crotcheted hat.

The team consisted of eight members; Zona Bean, Rachel Haney, Mae Stewart, Alma Meyers, Pauline Robertson, Beatrice Robertson, Cleo Yantis and Marguerita Hoffman.

Aside from a brief hiatus during the depression, girl’s basketball has always been a popular activity for Slaton girls and by 1932 the Tigresses had won the Lubbock County Championship game and went on to compete at the state tournament held in Celeste.

By the 1970s, girls were obsessed with basketball. Especially when young girls watched the 1974 team capture the attention and approval of many by winning the Texas state championship and were now known as the Slaton Tigerettes.

“Slaton’s little girls forsake dolls early, for basketballs,” The Slatonite reported in 1975.

“Beginning at age 9 or 10, when most girls are still playing with dolls,” Sandy Martin wrote in an article for The Slatonite in 1975, “Many Slaton girls forsake the fairy tale world of toys for the drive and competition of basketball.”

By February of 1975, according to The Slatonite, the defending state champions had won their fifth district championship title and were well on their way to another state title.

“Locally,’ Sandy Martin wrote, “they’re known as Benson’s Bunch but throughout the state of Texas, Slaton’s Tigerettes are known as a winning team.”

“The defending state champion Slaton Tigerettes wrapped up the district title for the fifth straight year,” The Slatonite reported on February 13, 1975. “This week they will begin the playoff trail to what hopefully will be another trip to Austin.”

However, 1975 would not be a winning year on the state level. The team fell short in the regional finals.

It wasn’t until three years later when the Tigerettes had another chance to capture a state title.

In 1978, coming off of many heartbreaking upsets in the regional championships for the 1975-1977 school years Slaton had one focus, state champions – again.

The team, that year consisted of; Lynn Webb, Cynthia Robinson, Chris Kennedy, Linda Lewis, Debbie Heinrich, Jill Basinger, Roxanne McDonald, Debbie Bednarz, Janee’ Jenson, Esoleta Whaley, Sherrie Eakin, Teri Huckabee, Barbara Anzley and Peggy Alspaugh.

The 1978 2AA State champions beat Granbury High School in a dramatic 55-45 win to prove that Slaton Tigerette basketball was, indeed, the best in Texas.

It was 10 a.m. It was a typical January morning in 1974.

Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang.

“At 11 o’clock this morning,” an emotionless voice of a male caller said, “a bomb will go off at Slaton High School.”

Mrs. Bourn reported to The Slatonite that, “the caller’s voice was calm, he did not sound excited.”

Within minutes the high school was evacuated.

“Slaton High School was evacuated Tuesday and students had an unscheduled two and a half hours out of classes after a caller said a bomb would go off at the school,” The Slatonite reported on January 31, 1974.

Fortunately, the call turned out to be a hoax for which the caller, once apprehended, faced jail time.

The excitement had faded, briefly, but a different sort of excitement enveloped the halls of Slaton High School in ’74.

In January of 1974 members of the Tigerette basketball team; Patti Melton, Jan Davis, Kay Stephens, Ann Partain, Becky Culver, Doris Meurer, Rosemary Scott, Angela Kitten, Susan Hopper, Pam Howard, Frana Gass, LuAnne Fondy, Kimmy Cooper, along with their coach, Gay Benson, were, once again, on their way to winning a district championship title.

By February of 1974, they had reached their goal.

“Slaton’s sharp shooting girls basketball team and coach, Gay Benson, have done it again,” The Slatonite reported on February 7, 1974. “For the fourth straight year, Slaton has won the district championship.”

Making their way into the state playoffs, the Tigerettes faced Hamlin and on Valentine’s Day of 1974, The Slatonite reported that they had beaten Hamlin 69-56.

The Tigerettes were well on their way to the regional championship tournament.

Of course, the regional tournament proved to be a walk in the park for the very experienced and very determined Tigerettes.

After many years qualifying for the playoffs, their time had come.

The Tigerettes beat Coahoma during the first round of the regional tournament and made their way to the final game of the tournament; a regional championship was on the line, and the team was only two wins away from that ultimate high school goal – a Texas state title.

“We’re number 1! We’re number 1!” Slaton fans chanted as the Tigerettes made their way onto the court for the regional championship game against Stratford.

The cheers became only livelier and more bousterious as the Tigerettes left no room for Stratford to deter their goal.

“We’re number 1!” the Slaton fans continued chanting as the final buzzer approached and Slaton was on top. “We’re number 1!” They shouted long after the final buzzer went off and Slaton was on their way, for the first time since 1932, to a state championship game.

In a special Saturday edition of The Slatonite on February 23, 1974, the headlines blared from the front page, “Tigerettes Win State!”

Team member, Jan Davis, reported to The Tiger’s Cage student newspaper, “It’s one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me – A dream come true.”

“They’re great. They’re Beautiful. They’re magnificent. They’re #1!” The Slatonite reported.

Of course, the path to a state championship title began many years prior.

Players in long skirts and on an outdoor basketball court, in 1915, the town was introduced to a new phenomenon – girl’s basketball.

The book cover for the book written by James Villanueva about Slaton's past!

One month after beating the Miami Dolphins for a Super Bowl Championship title, the Dallas Cowboys star, wearing a sport coat and slacks, took in the fresh crisp mid day air moments before being surrounded by hundreds of Slatonites.

On an excursion train from Amarillo, Garrison and two other players; defensive tackle for the Cowboys, Bob Lilly, and Baltimore Colts defensive lineman Bob McKay made a brief stop to sign autographs and meet with the approximately 400 citizens who greeted them with signs welcoming them to Slaton.

As the players waved at the cheerful crowd, little did they know that Slaton in 1972 was a city on the verge of progress.

“A brighter tomorrow,” The Slatonite reported in January of 1972. “It’s possible because of today’s accomplishments. The great potential of concerned individuals has kept the wheels of progress in motion. Business, industry, technology, and the people of our fine community assure our future.”

In a year when the average gas price was .35 a gallon, the cable channel HBO was launched, and teeny boppers were still humming the tune to the 1971 hit American Pie, Slatonites could, at last, call their Lubbock neighbors toll free.

Although progress was looming, Slaton was in the midst of trying to save one of the most respected and historical institutions to come about during the Depression era years, Mercy Hospital.

In January of 1972, the Sisters of Mercy signed over the deeds of Mercy Hospital to the City of Slaton. The Sisters of Mercy were no longer capable of completely administering the hospital that was built in 1929.

According to The Slatonite, a committee was established to raise $70,000 so the hospital could continue its operation. The committee started a fundraising campaign entitled, “Have Mercy, Keep Mercy.”

Within weeks, the committee began a series of fundraisers that included a popular benefit dinner that helped sustain the hospital. In February of 1972 The Slatonite reported, “last Sunday’s chili and beef stew dinner for the benefit of Mercy Hospital succeeded beyond the expectations of the sponsoring VFW Auxiliary.”

That same year, the year devoted to progress, more than 300 people gathered at the 600 block of South 4th Street as the Catholic Priest blessed the grounds where a new Catholic Church would be built.

The Slatonite reported that the building would be erected to, “replace the present building which was moved in 1951 after having been used for many years by parishioners of St. Joseph Church.”

On a hot July afternoon, Felipe Estrada led the group that had gathered in prayer for the future of Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church. The building was finished and dedicated to the public on December 10, 1972.

As the city progressed. So too did business.

Citizens gathered for a ribbon cutting ceremony as Loyd Ledbetter lead the city in opening the popular chain restaurant, Dairy Queen a month after Our Lady of Guadalupe broke ground..

However, the excitement of the early seventies left by train early in the winter of 1972 when members of the Dallas Cowboys football team greeted their Slaton fans.

The Slatonite reported that one of the signs in the audience read, “Slaton, your kind of town.”

“Slaton is my kind of town,” the hefty running back, Garrison said in response to the sign. He then continued to sign autographs.

Since it was during the lunch hour, students from Slaton High School had the opportunity to drive down to the railroad tracks to witness the commotion. Garrison was pleased to see the students as he wanted to personally congratulate the Slaton Tigerettes for winning the bi-district championship game earlier that year.

“It actually happened,” the column began. “Claude and Irving caught a burglar.”

“The excitement began for the roly-poly barrister and the lean mustachioed jeweler following the Chamber of Commerce banquet Friday night,” the column continued.

As the two men made their way past a jewelry store on 130 North Ninth Street following the banquet, they discovered something unusual about the store’s display case: a hole had been made in the display window.

As the two men investigated the scene, they saw a man standing in the alley, and without hesitation, the two sped down the alley in their vehicle toward the man, who ran away on foot.

“There was a Negro whose actions indicated that he was the ‘culprit,’” Claude reported to The Slatonite.

“Follow that man,” Irving shouted to his driver.

The front-page article described the pursuit of the assumed culprit, through alleyways and Slaton streets, as the man being pursued helplessly ran, trying to find safety from the pursuing men.

The article stated, “The men pursued the Negro by car for a short distance, but realizing that was fruitless, abandoned the vehicle and set after the fleeing Negro on foot.”

The police were notified, and they too, without question, searched for the accused assailant. The fleeing man, with nowhere to turn, was cornered at 127 Texas Avenue. The man was arrested and taken away to jail. The heroes of their own story took pride in capturing their “bad guy” as many citizens were entertained by yet another jolly Claude and Irving story.

Two years later, in 1955, the public’s fear and the separation of African Americans from the mainstream continued to dominate the front page of The Slatonite, where names were rarely given but the term “Negro” continually described members of the community.

That same year, plans began for a new school. It was the school district’s hope that the new school, to serve the African American population, would be opened in time for the new school year in 1956. Slaton High School, a whites-only school, was in a brand-new, state-of-the-art facility on the other side of town—less than two miles away.

One month prior to the first day of the new school year, the Slaton School Board voted to maintain segregation within the Slaton Independent School District. “At a meeting of the Slaton School Board,” The Slatonite reported on August 19, 1955, “a resolution was passed to maintain segregated schools for the school year 1955–56.”

At the time, many people in Slaton continued believing that a segregated school system was best for the students in the community. “There had not been enough study of the problem,” superintendent of Slaton Public Schools P.C. Vardy Jr. said in The Slatonite.

Tragically, in January 1956, eight months before the planned school was to open, a fire ravaged the building of Evans, the all-black school.

“Slaton firemen battled a fire at the Evans School,” The Slatonite reported in 1956. The children, left without a school, were placed in various other locations throughout the town, even though a brand-new Slaton High School with new amenities and plenty of space was just a few yards away.

“The new Evans School which had previously been planned, is expected to be ready in September,” The Slatonite reported

The students would be separated by race for the next nine years. The students of Latin descent were separated by skin tones; the dark-skinned Latino students were required to attend Evans, while the light-skinned Latino students attended Slaton High School. Since most towns in the area did not have an “all-black high school,” black students from neighboring communities and towns also attended Evans.

However, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 changed the face of the Slaton school system.

In August 1964, Slaton Independent School District announced its plans to begin integrating the entire district, beginning with the junior and senior classes and continuing each year to make accommodations for all schools to be integrated.

That same summer, the summer when hundreds of sheep ran loose in the streets of Slaton, two young men from different sides of town followed the sounds of sheep cries and made their way to the scene of the accident.

The two met as they aided a sheep lying on the ground, still breathing, when so many others had died.

“Two unidentified youths made an attempt to save an exhausted sheep that was many of hundreds involved in the truck accident Saturday afternoon,” The Slatonite reported.

A week after the roaming herd was caught and the blood of the sheep was cleansed from the streets, the two youths entered the same school, not as separate members of one town but as equals.

In May 1965, school officials reported to The Slatonite, “The final copy of our integration plans, which were formulated in September, 1964, will be sent to Washington D.C.”

Before the school year began in August 1965, a small news item directed to the parents of Slaton students read, “Buses will begin operation Monday. Routes remain the same as last school year with the exception that children of all races will ride the same buses.”

After the graduating class of 1968 walked the stage and the young Slaton women sang “Ava Maria,” the students of all different ethnicities—black, white and brown—threw their mortar caps high into the air.

For a brief moment, the signature school color, Slaton red, reigned.

The Davis Hotel in 1950s Slaton. Also known to Slatonites as the "Negro" Hotel.

Part I

On a spring afternoon, music drifted from the halls of Slaton High School and out onto the streets when three young Slaton women—Karlene Eastman, Laura Childers and Jo Ann Roberts—sang “Ave Maria” before the graduating class of 1968.

Included in the graduating class was Truett Johnson, whose final quote in the yearbook was: “Men of few words are the best men.”

Future Homemakers of America member and choir participant Toni Briseno’s final quote for the yearbook was: “From tiny sparks great fires blaze.”

Pep squad member Kale Roche wanted everyone to know that “there is a world to see” when she left behind her legacy at Slaton High School.

When the class took to the stage for the final time, it’s easy to imagine the graduates thinking back to their childhoods and even their first days of high school as freshmen, in 1964, the first year of integration.

In the summer of ’64, however, as new high school freshmen anxiously waited for the first day of school, the carcasses of two hundred white sheep littered the black highway leading into Slaton.

W.M. Young of Lubbock passed through Slaton after visiting with his parents, who lived in Tahoka. As Young, driving a pickup truck, approached the intersection of Highway 400 and the Highway 84 bypass, he slammed on his brakes to avoid smashing into a truck that had failed to acknowledge a stop sign at the intersection before crossing over into the city of Slaton.

“The last thing I remember,” Young reported to The Slatonite in 1964, “was looking McNeely in the face just as the collision occurred.”

When he made the fatal decision to cross the highway without stopping, Clint McNeely was driving a large truck with a guarded trailer attached, carrying approximately six hundred sheep. The four hundred sheep that survived left the carnage and roamed through the streets of Slaton.

They roamed the same streets where, less then a decade earlier, two Slaton police officers had taken part in a high-speed chase, all the while spraying bullets at their culprit.

In a January 1953 article in The Slatonite, twenty-nine-year-old Andy Smith lay in critical condition at Mercy Hospital recovering from a gunshot wound.

“Smith was shot in the chest by fellow policeman, Bill White, after the two chased a Negro in a wild car ride from Slaton into downtown Tahoka,” The Slatonite read in the January 2, 1953 article.

According to the article, White claimed to have walked into an alley between The Slatonite office and Brush Motor Freight off Texas Avenue. He strolled past dry brush and graveled grounds in the shadows of the alleyway when he claimed to have seen a “Negro” stealing gas from a pickup truck.

Before the man could respond, a gun was in the air, and White hollered, “Give up or I’ll shoot.”

After White shot twice, and missed, the targeted man entered a vehicle and drove away. Smith, who was a block away when he heard the gunshots, made his way to the alley, and he and White entered their vehicles and drove onto Texas Avenue, chasing after the man.

“A 90-mile-an-hour car chase ensued all the way to downtown Tahoka,” The Slatonite reported, “with the police officers and the Negro exchanging shots on the way.”

In downtown Tahoka, “the Negro wrecked his car,” White said, “and escaped on foot.”

White parked the police car, turned to his partner and said, “I’ll get him,” before exiting the car and chasing the man through the streets of Tahoka.

“White chased the Negro, who zig-zagged between buildings and, at one point, White saw a man, supposedly the Negro, pointing a gun at him,” The Slatonite reported.

“I thought to myself, it’s me or the Negro,” White said, “and I shot.”

With his gun up, White said he was about to shoot again when he heard the slow, groaning moans of his partner Smith. “It’s me, Bill,” he said.

“I never felt worse about anything in my life,” White reported to The Slatonite. “Smith was dressed in civilian clothes and wore no hat. The Negro was also bare headed. I thought Andy was still in the police car or I’d have never taken the chance there in the darkness.”

In 1953, those who thought of African Americans as second-class, separate citizens considered racist banter and wit humorous, and these people felt justified in comically satirizing the growing brutality toward African Americans.

Deplorably, The Slatonite, too, succumbed to the bigotry of the pre–civil rights years in a humor column for The Slatonite entitled “Claude & Irving.”

It was the events that transpired after the Chamber of Commerce Banquet that would be the inspiration for the humor column written in a 1953 issue of The Slatonite.