Meador Manor

Today’s postcard from a 1940 Oklahoma souvenir pack is of downtown Tulsa. Years ago I did a self-guided Art Deco tour of the fabulous lobbies and the like constructed in downtown Tulsa in the roaring 1920s, when it truly was the Oil Capital of the World.

A 2009 survey identified 23 Art Deco ZigZag, 13 Art Deco PWA, and 7 Art Deco Streamline buildings. Below I have tried to identify the major buildings in the 1940 postcard.

Many of those survive, although the Hotel Tulsa at the right center was demolished in 1973 to be replaced by the Tulsa Performing Arts Center.

The above image from Google Earth only renders some of the buildings in 3D, exaggerating the issue, but a reality is that 50% of all the surface area of downtown Tulsa is now streets or surface parking. Streetsblog and other publications have named it one of the worst downtown “parking craters” in the country. A lot of low buildings and trees were wiped out in the past 65 years.

The tallest building is now the BOK Tower, which has 52 stories in its 667 feet. Architect Minoru Yamasaki, who designed the World Trade Center towers in New York City, originally proposed a pair of small towers for John Williams’ corporate headquarters in Tulsa. Williams famously grabbed one of the model towers and put it atop the other. That led to a building almost precisely half the scale of one of the World Trade Center towers, interrupting Boston Avenue.

• Tom McCarthy’s reel about the BOK Tower

It opened as One Williams Center in 1976 but became known as the BOK Tower in the 1980s thanks to the bank being the primary tenant and signage holder. It was the tallest building in Oklahoma until the Devon Tower in Oklahoma City surpassed it in 2011 on its way to topping out at 844 feet.

In 2001, Williams Communications built a 15-story glass office building just to the east of the BOK Tower. It was designed to use about half of the energy for a building of its size. However, a telecom bubble burst and took down the company. Tulsa leaders opted to buy it for $52 million and consolidated 940 city employees into their new City Hall at One Technology Center.

The Mid-Continent building is an engineering marvel. Josh Cosden built a refinery on the west side of river in Tulsa, and in 1918 his neogothic 16-story building was completed downtown. In the oil boom of the 1980s, a twin building was added to the side, and an amazing 20-story addition was built atop the new building, cantilevered above the original building with a 10-inch gap separating them. Tom McCarthy’s great short reel about it is a treat.

A Bartlesville Connection

110 W 7th was constructed in the early 1970s as the new national headquarters for Cities Service. I was familiar with it as a kid because my father worked for Cities Service Gas in Oklahoma City, and when Cities Service Oil moved its headquarters out of Bartlesville in the late 1960s, its corporate headquarters moved to the new building in Tulsa. My father would point it out to me when we drove through Tulsa on our way to visit relatives up in Independence, Kansas.

Additional Bartlesville connections are the Philtower and the Philcade, which were both built by Waite Phillips, the brother of Bartlesville’s own oil tycoon, Frank Phillips. Waite sold his oil company for $25 million in 1925, and beginning that year, he and his wife Genevieve gave away half of everything that they earned.

He built the 24-story Philtower in 1928, with a mix of Gothic Revival and Arto Deco stylings. The marble lobby has an impressive English fan-vaulted ceiling and bronze chandeliers.

• Tom McCarthy reel on the Philtower

A church across the street moved, and Phillips bought that property and had the Philcade constructed, with his plans becoming increasingly ambitious. It scaled up from six stories to thirteen by its completion in 1931. In 1937, it became the first fully air-conditioned office building in Tulsa and gained a penthouse on a 14th floor. Its lobby was the city’s first indoor shopping mall. The lobby ceiling was originally painted with classical designs, and when Phillips walked in upon completion he ordered it redone in gold leaf with a glazed overlay of Art Deco designs.

In 1938, he donated his 72-room Villa Philbrook mansion in Tulsa to the city, and it became the Philbrook Museum of Art. Waite and his wife Genevieve moved into the 23-room 3,000 square foot penthouse atop the Philcade. A popular attraction on architectural tours is the 80-foot tunnel under 5th Street connecting the Philtower and the Philcade. Phillips brought in miners to dig it in secret as a safe way for him to go between his residence atop the Philcade and his offices in the Philtower in a time when some wealthy people had been kidnapped for ransom.

In 1938 and 1941, he donated 127,000 acres of his ranch in New Mexico to the Boy Scouts and threw in the Philtower as an endowment. Waite and Genevieve moved to the Bel Air neighborhood in Los Angeles, California, where he died in 1964, with the University of Southern California as a primary beneficiary of his estate.

There are lots of other fascinating buildings in downtown Tulsa, even with all of its parking lots. Take a look at the reels by the Tulsa Foundation for Architecture.

Symbols of Merger Mania

My view of downtown Tulsa, bracketed by the former Williams and Cities Service towers, is colored by the petroleum industry merger mania of the early 1980s. I knew about Cities Service Oil in Bartlesville and Tulsa, but over three decades my father had risen to lead Gas Measurement for Cities Service Gas in Oklahoma City.

In June 1982, the corporate raider T. Boone Pickens made an offer to take over all of Cities Service. Cities announced it planned to resist, and then Gulf Oil entered the bidding war. The companies battled until August, when Armand Hammer’s Occidental Petroleum entered the fray and took on sizable debt to take over Cities.

Hammer sold off many of the old company’s assets, and that included Cities Service Gas, which was sold in September 1982 to Northwest Energy of Salt Lake City. My father flew out to Utah many times as the companies merged their operations. However, in August 1983 Allen & Co. began talking of merging with Northwest Energy, prompting the Williams Companies of Tulsa to take over Northwest Energy, and thus the former Cities Service Gas.

Williams reneged on promises and announced that the Oklahoma City offices would be closed and the remaining employees transferred to its headquarters in Tulsa. When I was a high school senior, my father took an incentive retirement package offered to all employees age 55+ and thus ended his career at age 58 after 32 years with Cities Service Gas and a couple of years with Skelly.

My own career would be indirectly impacted by the petroleum industry’s periodic convulsions. T. Boone Pickens would go on to attack Phillips Petroleum in Bartlesville in 1984, followed by Carl Icahn, and the company’s successful defense against those takeover attempts led to an immense amount of debt and restructuring. Phillips finally fell victim to another era of consolidation when it merged with Conoco in 2002, changing the demographics of Bartlesville. Those rippled along, finally leading me to leave the classroom in 2017 and spend almost a decade in administration before my own retirement at the end of June 2026.

Tulsa lost its “Oil Capital of the World” claim to Houston by 1980, and since then over 100 energy companies relocated their corporate headquarters or established major operations centers in Houston, including Oklahoma’s Chesapeake/Expand, Devon, ConocoPhillips, Kerr-McGee, CITGO, and Halliburton. Texas now has a stronger association with oil than does Oklahoma, but the Sooner State will always retain its association with First Peoples. Tomorrow’s postcard will remind us that a large part of Oklahoma was once Indian Territory.

Today’s postcard from a 1940 Oklahoma souvenir pack is of Fort Gibson, which is across the Arkansas River from Muskogee in the east central part of the state.

I’ve never been particularly interested in old forts. Years ago my father and I took a summer trip out west in his Volkswagen camper. He took me to various places he had previously visited. I especially liked the Durango-Silverton train and the Grand Canyon. However, I vetoed two potential stops. I refused to spend any time at Canyon de Chelly, as I felt it would pale in comparison with our earlier visit to Mesa Verde, and I also vetoed stopping to tour Bent’s Old Fort.

So I’ve never toured, just driven past, Fort Gibson. The postcard was correct to put “Jefferson Davis House” in quotes since any claim that Jefferson Davis had occupied that building is false. Davis and over 100 other West Point cadets were stationed at the fort from 1833 to 1835, but his regiment actually stayed in tents about a half-mile from the fort’s location.

Established as Cantonment Gibson in 1824, the young nation’s westernmost military post at the time, it became a fort in 1832 to deal with First Peoples forcibly removed from eastern states to Indian Territory as well as the indigenous plains tribes.

A series of expeditions marched west in search of nomadic plains tribes which endangered traders on the Santa Fe trail, but the first two in 1832 and 1833 had no success. Author Washington Irving accompanied the troops in 1832, and he wrote A Tour of the Prairies in 1835 from his experiences. It wasn’t until 1834 that a dragoon expedition finally made contact. Many of the soldiers on those various expeditions became ill, with a high mortality rate.

The original 1824 cantonment was 222 by 238 feet and all structures were of wood, inside and out, except for a stone powder house and a water well. By 1835, those log structures were decaying from periodic floods from the river. In 1845 the fort was shifted uphill to the northeast.

The Army would occupy and abandon the fort multiple times, finally departing for good in 1890. The civilian town of the same name which had developed in the area then expanded into the former military grounds.

A Bartlesville Connection

Bartlesville is situated right on the border between the Cherokee and Osage nations and is the headquarters for the Delaware, so its initial developments in the 1870s and its oil-driven settlement in the 1900s were made possible by the eventual peace between those groups of First Peoples.

As the Osage and Cherokee were forced westward, they came into conflict over hunting lands. In 1817, a group of Cherokees, Shawnees, and Delawares ambushed an Osage village near present-day Claremore. That led the U.S. government to establish Fort Smith. A peace pact in 1818 was quickly breached, and hostilities continued. The army moved from Fort Smith to Cantonment Gibson in 1824, and in 1825 a treaty shifted the seat of the Osage Nation from within the drainage area of the Missouri River to that of the Arkansas River.

Delawares and Osages still fought and killed each other until they joined the Choctaw, Kickapoo, and Shawnee in a mutual peace agreement in late 1827. The Cherokee refused to participate, having had multiple deadly disagreements with the Osage since the Cherokee had first been forced into the region. In 1831 an unratified treaty between the Cherokee, Western Creek, and Osage was agreed upon at Cantonment Gibson, which marked the end of major inter-tribal hostilities among those groups.

The Osage still attacked the Pawnee in 1833, leading to a loss of federal aid, and Missouri conducted an Osage War in 1837 that expelled them from that state. The Claremore Band of the Osage, which had refused to comply with the 1825 treaty, dwelled near Three Forks until the Treaty of 1839 at Fort Gibson led most of the Osage to remove to Kansas, alleviating tensions with the flood of Cherokees arriving in its Trail of Tears.

The Osage finally signed a treaty in Montgomery County, Kansas in 1870 in which they sold their lands in Kansas, and in 1872 they purchased their own reservation in Indian Territory, just west of the Cherokee Nation, which became Osage County west of Bartlesville.

The Caney River which runs through Bartlesville was once called the Little Verdigris and it feeds into the Verdigris River. Both the Verdigris and the Neosho feed into the Arkansas River at Fort Gibson.

In the 1930s, the Works Project Administration reconstructed several of the buildings, so that explains why a postcard of it made it into the 1940 souvenir pack. It is now operated by the Oklahoma Historical Society, and there are stone barracks, a dogtrot cabin, a sutler store, mess hall, commissary, garden, bakehouse, and a palisade with barracks, a cannon, and a blockhouse.

Grants are currently funding restoration of the 1840s barracks, with repairs also slated for the commissary, ammunition storage building, blacksmith shop, and bake house.

The commissary was built in 1845 by Seminoles and slaves, and it is the oldest stone military building still standing in Oklahoma. The 1,000-square-foot building is now the Visitor Center.

The misnamed Jefferson Davis House was gone in 1919, with only two mounds of stone and earth that marked where its two large chimneys had stood.

The WPA rebuilt the chimneys and recreated the log building between them, but now only the chimneys remain, with a misleading plaque in one of them repeating the false claim that Jefferson Davis once occupied the building.

There is a small recreated log cabin on the property that was also sometimes incorrectly associated with Davis, when that location actually had a cabin used by General Zachary Taylor for a few weeks in the summer of 1841. He was the 12th President of the U.S. from March 1849 to July 1850.

When I was a kid, the Oklahoma City fairgrounds had a fake stockade which was named Cottonwood Post. It endured long enough for me to spend one afternoon there in high school selling Neapolitan ice cream tacos (don’t ask), but about a decade later it was destroyed by winds. The stockade at Fort Gibson was reconstructed by the Works Progress Administration on new foundations at a slightly different location than the 1824 original, using a map from 1835.

Well, that’s about all the patience I have for an old fort. Tomorrow’s postcard will take us to something of far greater interest to this city boy: downtown Tulsa.

Today’s postcard from a 1940 Oklahoma souvenir pack is of the Will Rogers Memorial Museum and Tomb at Claremore. Yesterday’s card was of his birthplace, so two of the twenty cards in the pack dealt with The Cherokee Kid.

That’s not surprising, given that just a few years earlier, in 1935, Rogers had died in the plane crash with Wiley Post. It is hard, at this distant remove, to grasp how popular Will Rogers was on the national stage and the “good press” that gave Oklahoma, a state that often only makes the national news when something disastrous or embarrassing has occurred.

One obvious change at the memorial, beyond the switch from a single U.S. flagpole to poles for the U.S. and Oklahoma flags, is that the museum has expanded on its east side, which is the right side in the photographs.

Less obvious is that back in 1940, Will Rogers’ remains were still in a holding vault in Glendale, California. The bodies of Rogers and his wife, Betty, were not buried at the tomb in Claremore until 1944. The tomb is inscribed with an abbreviated form of what Rogers had said should be his epitaph:

I joked about every prominent man of my time, but I never met a man I didn’t like.

Will Rogers

One indicator of Will Rogers’ status to Oklahomans is in the U.S. Capitol. Oklahoma donated two statues, of Sequoyah and Will Rogers. Rogers made it a condition that his statue be placed facing the House Chamber, supposedly so he could “keep an eye on Congress”. It is the only one facing the chamber’s entrance, and staff sometimes direct media to be at the “Will Rogers stakeout” to catch House members during and after votes. The left shoe of the statue shines, and supposedly each U.S. President rubs it for good luck before entering the House Chamber to give a State of the Union address.

After Rogers’ death, Oklahoma commissioned Jo Davidson to sculpt it. Betty had recommended him, as Will and Jo had known each other for some time. Davidson had frequently attempted to convince Rogers to pose for him, and Rogers had put him off, referring to Davidson as “you old head-hunter”. Davidson screened a number of Rogers’ films and sculpted him in the nude in clay, and then asked Betty to send him some of Will’s old clothes, which he modeled on the nude clay. Two casts were made, one for the U.S. Capitol and the other for the Memorial in Oklahoma.

The Memorial Museum and Tomb are located on a site Rogers had purchased in 1911 for his retirement home. When it opened in 1938, FDR gave a radio speech.

President Roosevelt’s Dedication by Radio on November 4, 1938:

This afternoon we pay grateful homage to the memory of a man who helped the nation to smile. And after all, I doubt if there is among us a more useful citizen than the one who holds the secret of banishing gloom, of making tears give way to laughter, of supplanting desolation and despair with hope and courage. For hope and courage always go with a light heart.

There was something infectious about his humor. His appeal went straight to the heart of the nation. Above all things, in a time grown too solemn and somber he brought his countrymen back to a sense of proportion.

With it all his humor and his comments were always kind. His was no biting sarcasm that hurt the highest or the lowest of his fellow citizens. When he wanted people to laugh out loud he used the methods of pure fun. And when he wanted to make a point for the good of all mankind, he used the kind of gentle irony that left no scars behind it. That was an accomplishment well worthy of consideration by all of us.

From him we can learn anew the homely lesson that the way to make progress is to build on what we have, to believe that today is better than yesterday and that tomorrow will be better than either.

Will Rogers deserves the gratitude of the nation and so it is fitting that the dedication of this Memorial should be a national event, made so by the magic of radio. The American nation, to whose heart he brought gladness, will hold him in everlasting remembrance.

The Memorial was initially almost bare except for the Jo Davidson statue of the man. The crowds that came to pay their respects were large, motivating Betty to give a major portion of his memorabilia to the Memorial Museum. It now houses his entire collection of writings and is the largest collection of Will Rogers memorabilia. The expansion to the east was made in 1982, and it includes a theater where you can watch some of his movies. I have always enjoyed visiting the museum, and there is a virtual tour.

A Bartlesville Connection

Will Rogers was friends with Frank Phillips and several of his brothers, and he would visit the Frank Phillips Home in Bartlesville as well as the Frank Phillips Ranch which became Woolaroc.

Will and Betty would also get together with Frank and Jane Phillips in New York, and once spent a week in upstate New York with them and Henry Firestone and his wife.

If you make it out to Claremore, be sure to also tour the J.M. Davis Arms and Historical Museum. I’m not into guns, but it still impressed me. Have lunch or dinner at the Hammett House.

Tomorrow’s postcard will take us to a frontier outpost established in 1824 to keep the peace between the Osage and the Cherokee.

Today’s postcard from a 1940 Oklahoma souvenir pack is of Will Rogers’ birthplace near Claremore. The home still stands, but it is now about a mile away from where it was located when the postcard was printed.

The Dog Iron Ranch in Oologah had to be moved in 1960 to prevent it from being flooded by the creation of Lake Oologah. The current property of about 400 acres is a fraction of the original 60,000-acre ranch operated by Will’s father, and it originally had up to 10,000 Texas Longhorn cattle. The two-story house was completed by Clem Rogers in 1875, four years before Will was born.

Will left the ranch around 1905 and pursued an entertainment career in Hollywood. He became one of the highest-paid actors in the 1930s, appearing in over 70 films, and had a syndicated newspaper column and made many radio appearances. He died in 1935 when he and aviator Wiley Post crashed in Alaska on what was meant to be a leisurely trip around the world.

The Dog Iron Ranch was opened to public in the 1960s after the move, and the Oklahoma Historical Society sold it to the Cherokee Nation in 2023. It has since closed the ranch for over a year for renovations. Both Will’s mother and father were Cherokees.

Below is a documentary short exploring the difference between the “Rogers Ranch” and the “Dog Iron Ranch”.

A Bartlesville Connection

In December 1859, James Leontine Butler, an intermarried Cherokee, established an early trading post and post office at Black Dog Ford just south of modern-day Oak Park Village in Bartlesville. Butler Creek is named for his family. During the Civil War, he recruited a unit of Cherokee Mounted Rifles that included Clement Rogers. After the war, Clem resettled his family near Ft. Gibson, saving for four years before returning to the Cherokee Nation to start building their new home in 1870. Meanwhile, Butler had departed for Texas, where he had died in 1866 at age 33.

The ranch house is just a couple of miles north of the Skull Hollow Nature Trail that I’ve hiked multiple times.

Back in 1995, fellow science teacher Lynne Shaw and I toured the Northeast Power Plant at Lake Oologah. I created a slideshow of our tour which I eventually turned into a video.

Since that tour, one of the two coal-fired generators has been retired, and the other is slated to close by the end of 2026. Public Service Company of Oklahoma might convert or replace some existing boiler units to add more natural-gas fired generators at the facility.

Tomorrow’s postcard will take a just a ways down the road to Claremore.

Today’s postcard from a 1940 Oklahoma souvenir pack is a depressing one, since it shows the Eagle-Picher Central Mill, of the lead and zinc mining district near Miami. If you aren’t already aware, Picher is now a ghost town that was turned by its own industry into an environmental disaster.

Decades of unrestricted subsurface excavation dangerously undermined most of Picher’s town buildings and left giant piles of toxic metal-contaminated mine tailings, known as chat, heaped throughout the area. The discovery of cave-in risks, groundwater contamination, and health effects associated with the chat piles and subsurface shafts resulted in the site being included in 1983 in the Tar Creek Superfund site by the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).

The “Picher postcard” is something else, with its composition of the flower bed in the foreground while in the background looms one of the immense chat piles by the railroad and the mill.

The lead and zinc ore mined in Picher was concentrated in on-site mills and then sent out for final smelting and refining at the Eagle-Picher smelter in Galena, Kansas a dozen miles to the northeast as well as plants farther east and northeast in Joplin and Webb City, Missouri.

At its peak in the 1920s, Picher had over 200 mills. The one in the postcard was located a few miles southwest of the town of Picher, between the towns of Cardin and Commerce. Another postcard, not part of the souvenir pack, gives some perspective.

Below is an aerial view of the town of Picher in 2009.

A 1994 study found that 1/3 of Picher’s children had lead poisoning, and the EPA and state agreed to a mandatory evacuation and buyout of the entire township. A 2006 study showed 86% of Picher’s buildings were undermined and subject to collapse. In May 2008, 150 of its homes were destroyed by a tornado, and in 2009 Picher was dis-incorporated. A satellite view shows the scale of the mining mess.

A Bartlesville Connection

Bartlesville had its own past pollution from three zinc smelters which located there in the early 20th century because of the cheap natural gas from the Bartlesville and Osage oil fields. The smelters polluted the soil across southwest Bartlesville. In the period of 1988-1991, approximately 13% of Bartlesville children living on or near the old smelter sites had blood lead levels greater than or equal to 10 µg/dL, the concentration set by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control as the indicator for potentially elevated blood lead levels. None of the children in a control group from areas of Bartlesville not in the vicinity of the former smelters had levels exceeding that threshold.

That led to a cleanup from 1994 to 2001 across eight square miles. However, most of the ore brought into Bartlesville came from Canada and South America, and it reportedly did not process domestic ore. So it was not undermined by tunnels nor did it have huge toxic piles of chat.

Eagle-Picher was a merger of the Picher Lead Company and Eagle White Lead, with the former established by O.S. Picher. His namesake area was the most productive mining field in the tri-state area, producing more than $20 billion in ore from 1917 to 1947. More than 50% of the lead and zinc metal consumed in World War I came from the Picher Field, with it peaking in the 1920s with about 14,000 miners and another 4,000 people working in about 1,500 mining service businesses. An extensive trolley car system once brought in workers all the way from Carthage, Missouri over 30 miles northeast of Picher. However, perhaps 20 square miles around Picher became a toxic wasteland.

Other nearby communities like Cardin, OK and Treece, KS are also now abandoned. There are various videos of what remains of Picher; below is one.

Old towns sometimes die hard, and there is still a Christmas parade each year through Picher; at least 1,500 reportedly attended the one on December 5, 2025. If you ever have the strange urge to visit Picher, don’t be surprised if a highway patrol car or a car from the Quapaw nation force keeps tabs on you. Mind your Ps and Qs.

Tomorrow’s postcard will be on a happier note, showing a famous Oklahoman’s birthplace near Claremore.