In 1957 my mom and dad left the West end area and moved to the Montrose area at 1525 Sul Ross. The next year I started junior high at Lanier. I have very fond memories of that neighborhood and it was a great place to be raised. The house we lived in is not there anymore nor is any other house on that block. They have all be torn down for a large building that now occupies the entire block surrounded by Sul Ross, Mandell, Mulberry and Branard streets. The building is the Menil Collection art studio. I hate it that our old house is no longer there but the Menil Collection is very worthy of replacing it and the other homes that used to be there. Dunlavy pool was not far from us at Dunlavy and what is now the Southwest Freeway. It was a favorite hangout in the summer. I think the area is now called Evan Chew park. We spend endless hours there whiling away the summers. We even watched the infamous 59 Freeway trench as it was being dug when construction on US 59 was started. I smoked my first and last cigarette on the way to that pool one day. A friend came by me house and she and I had decided to walk over to the Dunlavy pool for an afternoon dip. On the way she ask me if I wanted a cigarette and I said yes I will take one. After a few puffs I was coughing and carrying on and threw it down and said to her, that is enough, they taste bad and they make me cough, I have never picked up another one since. I remember getting ready for a camping trip that a friend and I had planned going on with the Girl Scouts. My friend came over and my dad helped us pitch a tent in the back yard, this was supposed to be our dry run. I had two Tabby cats and during the night one of my cats came into the tent and was meowing and I got up and put her out of the tent, after a few more times of putting her out of the tent I finally drifted off to sleep. The next morning when I awoke I found a littler of kittens laying between my legs on my blanket. What a surprise. One of our many haunts in the area was Phil's café at the corner of Mandell and Richmond. Phil's had some great food and was a very nice man himself. When I first started visiting his café I met a very nice waitress named Dotty. She would always wait on us and not only myself but her and my mom became very good friends over the years. She is now retired and lives near Lake Livingston. The café started out as a small diner with about three of four tables and a counter with stools. Phil later added onto the side of the building a nice dinning room more than doubling the size of the building. In later years he moved over to where south bound traffic from Shepherd splits off to go to Greenbriar, he is right about Norfolk street. It is now called 59 Diner. Phil was known for his good food and had many established customers. Lanier was not very far from where I lived and it was not uncommon to walk to school. Sometimes my mom would take me to school and sometimes the mom of girl that lived across the street from us would take us. It wasn't long before my first cousin that lived a few blocks from us that went to Lamar bought a 31 Ford A model. He would come by our house and pick up my girlfriend across the street and myself and take us to school in his Model A. That was a real treat to ride to school in the Model A. It wasn't long before a couple of neighbor boys near me also wanted to get in on the ride. The two guys would lay on the two front fenders and wrap their arms around the headlights and ride to school that way. For some reason I do not think that would sit very well with the law now days, but back them no one ever said a word about it. One cold winter morning my mother was taking me to school and when we stopped at the traffic light at West Alabama and Mandell there were several police cars and several ambulances parked on the street at the intersection. Their attention was focused on the house on the northwest corner of the intersection. I didn't learn until I got home after school that three people in the house had died overnight from asphyxiation. Another tragedy that happened in the neighborhood came in July of 1959 when twelve year old William, affectionately known as Bill Bodenheimer was killed. He was a neighborhood kid that most knew and liked and lived not far from West gray on I think Driscoll street. He had been to Dunlavy pool one day and left the pool and went home only to leave the house a little while later close to dusk. He didn't return home that night and his mother and her boy friend went out looking for him only to give up sometime after midnight. Early the next morning the continued their search and finally found him in a small tin building on the back of a lot on West Gray stuffed in an old icebox. His murderers were later apprehended and charged and tried. There is some serious doubt that the ones arrested were the actual one that killed him. I am sure many on this board have heard of the Poe school bombing in Sept. of 1959. At the time I was at Lanier Jr. High and remember all the sirens that just kept on coming past the school that morning. The teachers would not let us get up and look out the windows and we had not clue as to what was going on. Of course we later learned of the bombing that happened that morning at Poe. We had no security police at our school and the school went on lock down with all doors locked except for the front door. The school had several of the biggest football players guarding the front door with baseball bats until the school got the all clear that the incident was confined to Poe. Right after the incident at Poe that morning my mother got a call from a friend of my mom and dads that was a deputy with the Harris county sheriffs department. He did not remember if I was going to Poe or if I was at Lanier. Hesitating to ask my mom if I went to Poe, he ask her if I was home, she said not she's at school, and he ask which school, in which she replied Lanier. He then told my mom what had happened and why he was calling. Had I been at Poe he was going to come by and pick her up and go to the school with her. These are some of my memories from the Montrose neighborhood that I was raised in from about twelve years old until I started college in 1963. Many good memories and some not so good. This was our house.