Posted 2:45 am Sunday, December 27, 2009
Entrepreneur Revitalizes Ben Wheeler With Festivals, Music Venue
By BRIAN PEARSON
Business Editor
BEN WHEELER — Much like other residents in this pint-sized rural community, Wylie Jenkins was skeptical when a retired big-shot businessman from Dallas swooped in and bought up half the dying town.
Business Editor
BEN WHEELER — Much like other residents in this pint-sized rural community, Wylie Jenkins was skeptical when a retired big-shot businessman from Dallas swooped in and bought up half the dying town.
Jenkins, 81, who still works as a farmer, has fond childhood memories of Ben Wheeler's heyday in the 1930s and '40s, when buggies, wagons and an automobile or two crowded downtown every Saturday.
But a few decades ago, a slow, heartbreaking demise set in. Businesses toppled like dominos, buildings fell victim to decay and became dilapidated tombstones for a once-thriving community.
Three years ago, Brooks Gremmels quietly came to town and bought the splintered shell of what was once the town mercantile. More purchases followed, and buildings beyond repair were razed.
At first, Jenkins and other longtime residents did not know what to make of the gregarious 5-7 entrepreneurial swashbuckler and his riotous dome of thick curly hair.
In 2008, Gremmels unleashed a series of popular festivals. There was the Easter celebration, followed by a Fourth of July event, the Hawg Festival and a Christmas parade, each drawing thousands of people. All were paid for out of the pocket of Gremmels, who gave away thousands of free hot dogs, candy canes and other goodies during the events.
The celebrations doubled in popularity this year, and Gremmels added a birthday bash on Memorial Day weekend to celebrate the town's namesake.
Along with the festivals came a fresh community spirit. Artists and craftsmen took notice. Musicians began gathering in town on Thursday nights to engage in festive hootenannies.
And then in September, like a green shoot sprouting through dead vegetation, the Moore Store restaurant and live music venue opened in what was once the town mercantile. Live music on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights now draws listeners, some from as far away as Dallas, by the hundreds.
An art gallery, knife shop and antique store followed in Moore Store's wake, all setting up shop in buildings Gremmels bought and renovated. Soon, a gourmet pizza restaurant will open in a building that once housed a blacksmith shop, with customers sitting at tables of hand-crafted cedar.
And, like each of Gremmels' tenants, they will pay him $1 a month in rent.
For Gremmels, a former professional motorcycle racer who made a fortune in the oil and gas industry, it's all about reviving a town he has known since childhood.
“It's really all about giving back,” said Gremmels, 66, whose wife, Rese, also is part of the Ben Wheeler resurrection. “It's a labor of love.
“The town is now taking on a life of its own. I'll let the people here decide what needs to be done. I'm just the instigator, I suppose you'd say.”
Three years ago, Brooks Gremmels quietly came to town and bought the splintered shell of what was once the town mercantile. More purchases followed, and buildings beyond repair were razed.
At first, Jenkins and other longtime residents did not know what to make of the gregarious 5-7 entrepreneurial swashbuckler and his riotous dome of thick curly hair.
In 2008, Gremmels unleashed a series of popular festivals. There was the Easter celebration, followed by a Fourth of July event, the Hawg Festival and a Christmas parade, each drawing thousands of people. All were paid for out of the pocket of Gremmels, who gave away thousands of free hot dogs, candy canes and other goodies during the events.
The celebrations doubled in popularity this year, and Gremmels added a birthday bash on Memorial Day weekend to celebrate the town's namesake.
Along with the festivals came a fresh community spirit. Artists and craftsmen took notice. Musicians began gathering in town on Thursday nights to engage in festive hootenannies.
And then in September, like a green shoot sprouting through dead vegetation, the Moore Store restaurant and live music venue opened in what was once the town mercantile. Live music on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights now draws listeners, some from as far away as Dallas, by the hundreds.
An art gallery, knife shop and antique store followed in Moore Store's wake, all setting up shop in buildings Gremmels bought and renovated. Soon, a gourmet pizza restaurant will open in a building that once housed a blacksmith shop, with customers sitting at tables of hand-crafted cedar.
And, like each of Gremmels' tenants, they will pay him $1 a month in rent.
For Gremmels, a former professional motorcycle racer who made a fortune in the oil and gas industry, it's all about reviving a town he has known since childhood.
“It's really all about giving back,” said Gremmels, 66, whose wife, Rese, also is part of the Ben Wheeler resurrection. “It's a labor of love.
“The town is now taking on a life of its own. I'll let the people here decide what needs to be done. I'm just the instigator, I suppose you'd say.”
BOOM, BUST, BOOM
Ben Wheeler, an unincorporated community of 400 residents, sits on State Highway 64 about 20 miles west of Tyler in Van Zandt County.
The town traces its roots to the 1840s, and Kentucky native Benjamin F. Wheeler, according to the Handbook of Texas Online.
Wheeler came from New Orleans around 1847 and, through a land grant, acquired 640 acres, and the community was named Clough after noteworthy settler George Washington Clough.
A post office didn't spring up until 1876, with Clough as its postmaster. Wheeler was contracted to carry the mail, which he did — by mule between Tyler and Buffalo. Because Clough's homestead was between the two towns, Wheeler often stayed there overnight.
For reasons various accounts do not mention, the town's name was changed to Ben Wheeler in 1878.
In the 1880s, Clough built the town's first general store, a schoolhouse and a church. He applied to move the post office and change the town's name to Georgetown, but Texas already had a Georgetown.
So the Ben Wheeler name stuck for good.
By 1888, the community had three churches, a district school, saw and grist mills, two syrup mills, cotton gins and the general store. In 1891, J.F. Davidson established The Alamo Institute, a coed boarding school. About a decade later, the school's enrollment reached 142.
A fire consumed most of downtown Ben Wheeler in 1893. By then, the town had seven stores, three gin-and-mill combinations, boarding houses, two churches and the Berry Resort Hotel.
The town's population reached 500 in the 1890s, but a smallpox epidemic reduced that to only 238 within seven years.
The community rebounded, and by 1919 had a bank, a school, two churches, two cotton gins, a corn mill, the weekly Headlight newspaper and an annual fair.
The development of the nearby Van oilfield broke open things for Ben Wheeler, with hotels and dance halls rushing in.
The population reached 375 in 1933. A cotton crash in the 1930s forced farmers away from that crop and into truck farming, meaning growing crops such as fruits and vegetables and trucking them to grocers, farmers markets and roadside stands.
By 1943, Ben Wheeler boasted 18 businesses and had hit a high-water mark.
Jenkins, who was a teen-ager, around that time, remembers an ice house where the gourmet pizza place soon will open. There was a boxing ring under a willow tree.
So many people came to town on Fridays and Saturdays the store stayed open until 9 p.m., he said. Buggies, wagons and automobiles filled every downtown parking spot.
“At one time, we had five service stations,” Jenkins said.
Ben Wheeler's bubble slowly deflated, and the number of businesses dwindled to nine by early 1972. But, as it always had, the town rebounded during the Texas oil frenzy of the 1970s and early 1980s. The number of businesses rose to 22 by 1988.
Jenkins remembers that it was about then that the wheels noticeably began to fall off Ben Wheeler.
Some attributed the decline to the closing of the public school, with students from the town now educated in Van. Same say the realignment of U.S. 64, which once cut through the center of town, contributed.
Whatever the reason, it was a downfall that did not sit well in the heart of someone who soon would be known as the man who bought Ben Wheeler.
The town traces its roots to the 1840s, and Kentucky native Benjamin F. Wheeler, according to the Handbook of Texas Online.
Wheeler came from New Orleans around 1847 and, through a land grant, acquired 640 acres, and the community was named Clough after noteworthy settler George Washington Clough.
A post office didn't spring up until 1876, with Clough as its postmaster. Wheeler was contracted to carry the mail, which he did — by mule between Tyler and Buffalo. Because Clough's homestead was between the two towns, Wheeler often stayed there overnight.
For reasons various accounts do not mention, the town's name was changed to Ben Wheeler in 1878.
In the 1880s, Clough built the town's first general store, a schoolhouse and a church. He applied to move the post office and change the town's name to Georgetown, but Texas already had a Georgetown.
So the Ben Wheeler name stuck for good.
By 1888, the community had three churches, a district school, saw and grist mills, two syrup mills, cotton gins and the general store. In 1891, J.F. Davidson established The Alamo Institute, a coed boarding school. About a decade later, the school's enrollment reached 142.
A fire consumed most of downtown Ben Wheeler in 1893. By then, the town had seven stores, three gin-and-mill combinations, boarding houses, two churches and the Berry Resort Hotel.
The town's population reached 500 in the 1890s, but a smallpox epidemic reduced that to only 238 within seven years.
The community rebounded, and by 1919 had a bank, a school, two churches, two cotton gins, a corn mill, the weekly Headlight newspaper and an annual fair.
The development of the nearby Van oilfield broke open things for Ben Wheeler, with hotels and dance halls rushing in.
The population reached 375 in 1933. A cotton crash in the 1930s forced farmers away from that crop and into truck farming, meaning growing crops such as fruits and vegetables and trucking them to grocers, farmers markets and roadside stands.
By 1943, Ben Wheeler boasted 18 businesses and had hit a high-water mark.
Jenkins, who was a teen-ager, around that time, remembers an ice house where the gourmet pizza place soon will open. There was a boxing ring under a willow tree.
So many people came to town on Fridays and Saturdays the store stayed open until 9 p.m., he said. Buggies, wagons and automobiles filled every downtown parking spot.
“At one time, we had five service stations,” Jenkins said.
Ben Wheeler's bubble slowly deflated, and the number of businesses dwindled to nine by early 1972. But, as it always had, the town rebounded during the Texas oil frenzy of the 1970s and early 1980s. The number of businesses rose to 22 by 1988.
Jenkins remembers that it was about then that the wheels noticeably began to fall off Ben Wheeler.
Some attributed the decline to the closing of the public school, with students from the town now educated in Van. Same say the realignment of U.S. 64, which once cut through the center of town, contributed.
Whatever the reason, it was a downfall that did not sit well in the heart of someone who soon would be known as the man who bought Ben Wheeler.
WORK OF LOVE
In 1943, about the time when Jenkins watched Ben Wheeler boom, Brooks Gremmels was born in Sherman.
Gremmels moved to Tyler when he was 8 years old and attended Birdwell Elementary School, Hogg Middle School and Robert E. Lee High School.
He remembers making frequent trips to Dallas with his family in a 1951 Studebaker, and they usually stopped in Ben Wheeler to grab a bite to eat. Even in his childhood, something about the town, as well as the neighboring Edom, captured his heart and imagination.
After high school graduation, he took classes at Tyler Junior College before transferring to the University of North Texas, where he received marketing degree in 1966.
Gremmels went on to become a stock broker, Shiner beer distributor and then a real estate broker before launching an oil and gas company in Dallas in the 1980s.
“We ended up doing very well,” he said.
Gremmels also spent five years as a professional motorcycle racer, winning several sprint championships, according to the Central Motorcycle Roadracing Association Web site. He was inducted into the association's Hall of Fame in 2005.
In 2003, Gremmels decided to retire, handing over the company to his employees.
At first, Gremmels and his wife wanted to move to Edom, but they changed their mind after seeing the state of Ben Wheeler.
“I got down here and was shocked to see what had happened,” he said. “The community spirit was gone. All I wanted to do was make a difference.”
The couple settled into a house two miles outside of town. Three years ago, the two made their first move, buying the abandoned store and tearing down dilapidated houses. Then they rested for a year before emerging in a big way in 2008, setting up the Ben Wheeler Art and Historical District Foundation as a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization. Gremmels snatched up land and buildings at a rapid pace and launched the festivals.
“I did not come in with any plan in mind,” he said. “Everything we have done has led to the next step.”
Gremmels said Ben Wheeler was particularly attractive because it's unincorporated, which allows certain developmental freedoms.
“We don't have a city council,” he said. “We don't have a mayor. We don't have building codes or zoning.”
That meant Gremmels could do just about anything he wanted to whenever he wanted to do it.
“I was trying to protect the integrity of this community,” he said. “We bought virtually everything.”
Gremmels admitted that a community embrace did not come right away, and there are those who oppose plans to sell alcoholic beverages at the two restaurants.
“At first, it was a puzzlement to people around here,” he said. “People thought I had an agenda.
“After two years, they've finally realized that I'm a goofy old guy who just wants to put something back better than he found it. We're going to leave this town a little better than we found it.”
Gremmels moved to Tyler when he was 8 years old and attended Birdwell Elementary School, Hogg Middle School and Robert E. Lee High School.
He remembers making frequent trips to Dallas with his family in a 1951 Studebaker, and they usually stopped in Ben Wheeler to grab a bite to eat. Even in his childhood, something about the town, as well as the neighboring Edom, captured his heart and imagination.
After high school graduation, he took classes at Tyler Junior College before transferring to the University of North Texas, where he received marketing degree in 1966.
Gremmels went on to become a stock broker, Shiner beer distributor and then a real estate broker before launching an oil and gas company in Dallas in the 1980s.
“We ended up doing very well,” he said.
Gremmels also spent five years as a professional motorcycle racer, winning several sprint championships, according to the Central Motorcycle Roadracing Association Web site. He was inducted into the association's Hall of Fame in 2005.
In 2003, Gremmels decided to retire, handing over the company to his employees.
At first, Gremmels and his wife wanted to move to Edom, but they changed their mind after seeing the state of Ben Wheeler.
“I got down here and was shocked to see what had happened,” he said. “The community spirit was gone. All I wanted to do was make a difference.”
The couple settled into a house two miles outside of town. Three years ago, the two made their first move, buying the abandoned store and tearing down dilapidated houses. Then they rested for a year before emerging in a big way in 2008, setting up the Ben Wheeler Art and Historical District Foundation as a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization. Gremmels snatched up land and buildings at a rapid pace and launched the festivals.
“I did not come in with any plan in mind,” he said. “Everything we have done has led to the next step.”
Gremmels said Ben Wheeler was particularly attractive because it's unincorporated, which allows certain developmental freedoms.
“We don't have a city council,” he said. “We don't have a mayor. We don't have building codes or zoning.”
That meant Gremmels could do just about anything he wanted to whenever he wanted to do it.
“I was trying to protect the integrity of this community,” he said. “We bought virtually everything.”
Gremmels admitted that a community embrace did not come right away, and there are those who oppose plans to sell alcoholic beverages at the two restaurants.
“At first, it was a puzzlement to people around here,” he said. “People thought I had an agenda.
“After two years, they've finally realized that I'm a goofy old guy who just wants to put something back better than he found it. We're going to leave this town a little better than we found it.”
GREMMELS' GARDEN
The downtown revival represents only a piece of Gremmels' redevelopment tapestry.
Just outside of the downtown strip, he has set up what has been named The Pickin' Porch, a wooden cabin where musicians gather to plan on Thursday nights.
An upgrade on land where festivals have been held is scheduled this spring to be a park, with bridges and picnic tables. It will be named Harmony Park after a women's philanthropic and social club.
He has a contract to purchase the feed store, which he will rent to the current owners for the usual $1 per month. The aging feed store looks like an anachronism next to its renovated neighbors.
“I'm not going to change it at all,” Gremmels said. “For a long time, it was the only operating business in town.”
The knife shop will move to another recently renovated building. (Gremmels quipped that he charges the knife-shop owner $2 a month for rent “because he's hard to deal with.”)
The vacated building will be able to house two tenants, perhaps a glass blower, quilter or a potter, he said.
Gremmels also has acquired a school building from Elwood near Madisonville. The building will be sliced into four pieces, transported to Ben Wheeler and reassembled behind the Moore Store restaurant.
Van Zandt County's historical society will set up in one half of the building, while the rest will be converted into a library within three months. Half Price Books already has donated 1,500 books for the library. Children will be able to check out books or just bring them home and keep them.
Also, just outside the strip, a structure made of cinderblocks will be turned into a museum for automobiles and motorcycles. (Gremmels has a massive collection of automobiles and motorcycles, but declined to detail his inventory.)
Meanwhile, work is under way on a community garden, for which Gremmels plans to give away seeds and plants to anyone who wants them. A worm-breeding operation already has been set up on site. And anyone who wants fruits and vegetables can just come and get them.
Gremmels also has plans to construct a 7.5-acre lake in town.
Inside the Moore Store, there is a mural of what the town looked like in the 1930s.
Gremmels wants another like it for the outside wall of one of his downtown buildings.
Wanting to incorporate RC Cola and Moon Pies, staples of early 20th century rural community life, into the artwork, he asked for permission from the two companies.
He got more than he bargained for, and now there are talks of creating an RC and Moon Pie Festival like the one that draws more than 25,000 people annually to Bell Buckle, Tenn.
Gremmels has rental houses he oversees through his Ben Wheeler Development Co., but otherwise he has no plans to make any money off the community — other than the token rent he charges his business tenants.
“You can do some neat things if you don't have to make money,” he said. “You can do some wonderful things if you don't have to make money.”
Gremmels said his focus remains on restoration, not molding and shaping a town to his liking.
“It's still a really rural community,” he said. “It has the values of a rural community.”
Just outside of the downtown strip, he has set up what has been named The Pickin' Porch, a wooden cabin where musicians gather to plan on Thursday nights.
An upgrade on land where festivals have been held is scheduled this spring to be a park, with bridges and picnic tables. It will be named Harmony Park after a women's philanthropic and social club.
He has a contract to purchase the feed store, which he will rent to the current owners for the usual $1 per month. The aging feed store looks like an anachronism next to its renovated neighbors.
“I'm not going to change it at all,” Gremmels said. “For a long time, it was the only operating business in town.”
The knife shop will move to another recently renovated building. (Gremmels quipped that he charges the knife-shop owner $2 a month for rent “because he's hard to deal with.”)
The vacated building will be able to house two tenants, perhaps a glass blower, quilter or a potter, he said.
Gremmels also has acquired a school building from Elwood near Madisonville. The building will be sliced into four pieces, transported to Ben Wheeler and reassembled behind the Moore Store restaurant.
Van Zandt County's historical society will set up in one half of the building, while the rest will be converted into a library within three months. Half Price Books already has donated 1,500 books for the library. Children will be able to check out books or just bring them home and keep them.
Also, just outside the strip, a structure made of cinderblocks will be turned into a museum for automobiles and motorcycles. (Gremmels has a massive collection of automobiles and motorcycles, but declined to detail his inventory.)
Meanwhile, work is under way on a community garden, for which Gremmels plans to give away seeds and plants to anyone who wants them. A worm-breeding operation already has been set up on site. And anyone who wants fruits and vegetables can just come and get them.
Gremmels also has plans to construct a 7.5-acre lake in town.
Inside the Moore Store, there is a mural of what the town looked like in the 1930s.
Gremmels wants another like it for the outside wall of one of his downtown buildings.
Wanting to incorporate RC Cola and Moon Pies, staples of early 20th century rural community life, into the artwork, he asked for permission from the two companies.
He got more than he bargained for, and now there are talks of creating an RC and Moon Pie Festival like the one that draws more than 25,000 people annually to Bell Buckle, Tenn.
Gremmels has rental houses he oversees through his Ben Wheeler Development Co., but otherwise he has no plans to make any money off the community — other than the token rent he charges his business tenants.
“You can do some neat things if you don't have to make money,” he said. “You can do some wonderful things if you don't have to make money.”
Gremmels said his focus remains on restoration, not molding and shaping a town to his liking.
“It's still a really rural community,” he said. “It has the values of a rural community.”
COMMUNITY BUY-IN
P.A. Geddie, publisher and managing editor of the County Line magazine, based in Ben Wheeler, said it took the festivals to get the community on board with the revitalization.
“To me that was the turning point,” she said. “People began to realize it was really going to happen.”
Ms. Geddie, who moved here from Dallas, has been running her magazine for 10 years and has witnessed the rapid community changeover, both in appearance and in spirit.
“It’s amazing,” she said. “It’s our dream, too. We’re riding (Gremmels’) vision and where he is going.”
Longtime farmer Jenkins has witnessed Ben Wheeler’s ups and downs during his more than 80 years, but he said none of the ups can compare to the present one.
It reminds him of the late 1930s and early 1940s, only the buggies and wagons on Saturdays have been replaced by automobiles crowding the strip.
“I marvel every time I drive through town,” Jenkins said. “It’s familiar now, with a bunch of cars stacked everywhere.
“I think it’s the grandest thing that ever happened to this community. I’m thankful to have lived long enough to see it come back.”
“To me that was the turning point,” she said. “People began to realize it was really going to happen.”
Ms. Geddie, who moved here from Dallas, has been running her magazine for 10 years and has witnessed the rapid community changeover, both in appearance and in spirit.
“It’s amazing,” she said. “It’s our dream, too. We’re riding (Gremmels’) vision and where he is going.”
Longtime farmer Jenkins has witnessed Ben Wheeler’s ups and downs during his more than 80 years, but he said none of the ups can compare to the present one.
It reminds him of the late 1930s and early 1940s, only the buggies and wagons on Saturdays have been replaced by automobiles crowding the strip.
“I marvel every time I drive through town,” Jenkins said. “It’s familiar now, with a bunch of cars stacked everywhere.
“I think it’s the grandest thing that ever happened to this community. I’m thankful to have lived long enough to see it come back.”
