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HELL'S HALF ACRE

Joe Wertz has an excellent article in this week's Oklahoma Gazette (Feb. 14, 2008) about Big Anne and the other brothel owners, gamblers and low lifes that once ruled a corner of downtown known in the city's early days as Hell's Half Acre. The story is based on the book "And Satan Came Also..." which is reviewed in the Books section of this web site. Sadly, only the top portion of the story is available online (Hell's Half Acre ). My advice: grab a copy of The Gazette by Wednesday. And Joe Wertz, if you're out there reading this, consider letting us reprint the story on this web site, which Jack and I operate to promote Oklahoma City history. - Steve


The Restaurant We Miss the Most!
 
Molly Murphy's House of Fine Repute is gone, but not forgotten. A great new book by the widow of Bob Tayar, its creative genius, is for sale at Full Circle Books and Best of Books, and chronicles the restaurant's rise and fall. It's an excellent read, and a must have for any true fan of Oklahoma City history. If you can't get enough of Molly Murphy's history, visit sites created by its former employees - www.mollymurphys.com and www.mollymurphys.net.
 
Wed December 12, 2007

Restaurant couple lived ‘soap opera'

By Sharon Dowell,
Food Editor
A book detailing the rise and fall of a restaurant that provided entertainment as well as controversy for almost 20 years will be published this week.
 
Jeffiee Tayar's first book, "Whatever Happened to Molly Murphy's House of Fine Repute?” (Dog Ear Publishing, $14.95) provides an up-close and extremely personal view of her roller-coaster life in the restaurant business. That ride brought sudden wealth, success, lawsuits and, finally, the big fall that ended the restaurant empire she owned with her ex-husband, Bob Tayar. He died almost three years ago in California.

Jeffiee Tayar recently spoke with The Oklahoman about her perspective on that era.

"People told me I needed to write a book,” she said. "I'd say it's a book, a soap opera .... But I really needed to do this because, pretty soon, no one will remember.”

So she enrolled in a writing class at Francis Tuttle Technology Center after returning to Oklahoma to be near family and friends. "I wrote it all in about six weeks,” she said. Asked what details in the book will shock readers most, she said, "Probably how we had so much — and then nothing.”

The self-published book covers Bob Tayar's first venture into the restaurant business, then takes readers for a wild ride in detailing how Molly Murphy's came to be one of the most talked-about local restaurants of its era.

At times, the details seem almost too bizarre to be real, as Jeffiee Tayar writes about the jewels, furs and clothes bought while Molly Murphy's was garnering national publicity. She takes readers on the journey of planning, building and furnishing the Tayars' dream home in Nichols Hills, and what happened when they could no longer afford to pay for or maintain the house. The couple eventually ended up in a modest home owned by relatives.

"I felt like I could make any place a home,” she said. "It didn't have to be the biggest or the most expensive. Yes, I hated to leave the Nichols Hills home, but it just wasn't fun anymore. It became a burden. I loved when we moved there and could afford it, and I loved the lifestyle. But when you can't afford it, it's just not fun.”

Today, she said, she's happy in her two-bed, two-bath garden home. "I wouldn't be comfortable in a big home like that now.”

Jeffiee Tayar, who grew up in Ardmore, writes about how she met Bob Tayar in 1959, when she was 19 and he was 29.

"Bob had just gone broke in a little hamburger spot in downtown Oklahoma City and didn't have a penny. He lived with his mother who was in her mid-70s, drove a blue Nash Rambler with a dented front fender and worked on commission in a men's clothing store,” she writes in the book's manuscript.

Most of his family had found success in the grocery business, but Bob Tayar had no desire to do that, Jeffiee Tayar writes. He wanted to open a nightclub like he'd seen in Dallas, so he borrowed money from his brother and opened the Sewanee Club in 1962, near the fairgrounds. Later, it was renamed The Dugout Club and became a strip joint.

Jeffiee Tayar said she supported the couple with her job at Braniff International Airways and saved money to buy their first home. When the club closed after a fire, the Tayars opened a burger joint on Northwest 39 Expressway that was eventually called Bonaparte's Drive-In.

"Bob never claimed to have original ideas,” she writes matter-of-factly in the manuscript. "Our menu (at Bonaparte's) was almost a replica of The Split-T, an Oklahoma City institution. Our food was just as good. That was due to my going over and getting hired by Johnnie, the manager at Split-T. I worked there for a couple of weeks and left with their cook, broiler man and lead lineman. The cook had all the recipes, including their hick'ry sauce and their onion ring batter.”

They also operated a Bonaparte's Charcoaler in Shepherd Mall, with a small bar in the back.

"Bob Tayar was bored with operations,” she writes. "He liked the excitement and anticipation of planning and building a restaurant. Once it opened, he would hire a manager to run it. He was a tough boss, but he was even worse with the customers.”

The couple opened a Bonaparte's in Mesquite, Texas, but it lost a lot of money. A couple of Texas restaurants — Bobby McGee's and The Magic Time Machine — provided inspiration for Tayar's next big concept, Molly Murphy's House of Fine Repute, which opened at 1100 S Meridian in 1976.

Playboy magazine described Molly Murphy's as "a Russian Orthodox Church that mated with a ranch house.” It included a toilet filled with flowers at the entrance, upside down flowerpots hanging from the ceiling and a cherry red Jaguar XKE salad car in the middle of the restaurant. Zany waiters and waitresses dressed in character costumes entertained diners with wacky skits and generally bizarre behavior.

To read the rest of this story, visit http://www.newsok.com/article/keyword/3179629/


Clara Luper - OKC's Civil Rights Pioneer

 

A great story about Oklahoma City civil rights pioneer appeared in The Tulsa World in July 2007. To read the whole story, go here: http://www.tulsaworld.com/news/article.aspx?articleID=070715_238_A1_spanc57564

 

It was as if you were expecting victory: Luper took front seat in segregation fight

By NORA FROESCHLE World Staff Writer
7/15/2007
Last Modified:
7/15/2007  1:23 AM

The battle for civil rights in Oklahoma had perhaps its most defining moment in 1958 at a drugstore counter in Oklahoma City.

A history teacher named Clara Luper captured the attention of local and national media by organizing what is thought to be one of the first publicized sit-ins.

"It was as if you were expecting victory, just waiting on time," Luper, 84, said in a recent interview at her Oklahoma City home. "I just think that it happened yesterday; it's that fresh in my mind."

Sit-inners, as they were called by those in the movement, would gather at Katz Drugstore in
Oklahoma City, find an open seat and order a soda. The drinks never came. Sometimes five hours would tick by at Katz and other segregated establishments in Oklahoma City
and around the state.

Luper, then a history teacher at
John Marshall High School
, led the student sit-ins with her three children in tow.

"I must have been 11 or 12," said her son Calvin Luper, 60. "It definitely had an effect on my entire life. It made me walk the line straighter than a lot of teenagers."



 

Taft Stadium - A Crumbling OKC Icon

A compelling story about the sad disrepair of Oklahoma City's historic Taft Stadium is told in the July 7, 2007 issue of The Oklahoman (www.newsok.com).

 

By Justin Harper
Staff Writer

In March 1949, R.W. Smilie was fed up with Taft Stadium.

Most likely, if the venerable old stadium was in the state of disrepair it currently is, Smilie might have walked a half block down the street from his home and gave it a good strong push so that it might go ahead and crumble. But back in those days, Taft Stadium was a mighty structure — both in structure and status.

 

Truth be told, Smilie didn't have a problem with the stadium itself. He was just sick of all the noise produced by midget cars racing around the track inside, often, he claimed, past the 10 p.m. cutoff time. So Smilie took his cause to district court. When his application was denied there, he went up the ladder to the state supreme court. Even empowered with a petition signed by 58 neighbors of the venue situated along May Avenue between NW 23rd and NW 27th, Smilie was left with no reason to smile.

 

In suggesting, rather imposingly, not to file an appeal, a judge overlooking the material wrote that "no action would be taken and the grounds would not be disturbed.” No action would be taken and the grounds would not be disturbed.

 

Fifty-eight years later, that mandate is being followed as if it was a court order. And as for ol' R.W. Smilie, it took a long time, but Taft Stadium, which in its prime was place for sports in Oklahoma City, has for a while now been virtually silenced. "I hate to see it like this,” said Darrell Palmer, business manager of the Taft Stadium Board.

 

"I remember Midwest City-Putnam City football games where 14,000 people would fill it to the brim in the '60s. I went to it when my dad took me to the stock car races when I was a kid. "I saw it in its heyday when it was a great place. And it's been a little spark in my heart for years.”

 

To read the entire story, visit http://newsok.com/article/3078384 (free registration is required).