Historic Laredo

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Above: The Alfredo Santos grocery
store at the corner of Santa María
and Sanchez streets was a Laredo
landmark for decades.
WEBB COUNTY HERITAGE FOUNDATION
Below: The Plaza Theater, built by
H.B. Zachry in 1947, has been
purchased by the City of Laredo, and
will be restored to its former glory
WEBB COUNTY HERITAGE FOUNDATION
Sam Sullivan Shoes, and the Central Shoe Shop
smelled like leather and shoe polish. Statler’s
Newsstand breathed Havanas and newsprint.
Galo’s exhaled developer and fixative. The fiveand-dimes
emitted essences of mothballs, popcorn,
candy, and candlewax on clouds of watercooled
air. Richter’s Department Store and the Bon
Ton dress shop smelled like fabric and perfume.
City Drug and the Walgreen with their soda fountains
smelled like medicine, cologne, toast, and
ice cream, depending on where you stood. The
bank smelled like air-conditioned cash.
There was a checklist of familiar faces walking
along the sidewalks or through stores that
had doors on two streets—Mr. Levy at the G&S
Office Supply, Mr. Addison at Laredo Paint and
Paper, Cleo Rangel at Sam Sullivan Shoes,
Santitos at Richter’s, and La Morenita at the perfume
counter of City Drug.
Life before styrofoam cups found old men in
Jarvis Plaza playing dominoes and sipping coffee
from thick paper cups with pop-out handles.
Across from the Plaza, the red bricked Mercy
Hospital and Jackson Funeral Home bracketed
the life-to-death range of human experience.
The palms and the citrus trees of Jarvis Plaza
were home to pigeons, doves, squirrels, and
many of the old, bearded drifters who slept in
the Bender Hotel down the street.
The Kress building with its basement coffee shop,
wooden floors, and Italian verdi marble footing held
a special allure. Its peaked red tiled roof, yelloworange
stucco and an American eagle atop the flagpole
worked like a magnet to pull pedestrians across
the street and into the store for the browsing and
perusing of items, such as costume jewelry, nail polish
and lipstick, hair nets, berets, pink Bobby socks,
household cleansers, and dolls. Children lost time,
however, in careful scrutiny of toy guns, air rifles,
gold fish, hamsters and parakeets, and kites.
Leaving the dark, steamy popcorn atmosphere
of the Plaza Theatre, one was drawn like
a dust mote to the sunny glare of afternoon and
next door to the glitter of the merchandise in the
windows of the Antonio González General
Store. Where the sea foam green Deco tiles of
the Plaza ended, there began the González show
windows full of every household gadget imaginable—meat
grinders, cutlery, enamelware,
ladles and sieves. Another window showcased
Camilus knives, switchblades, handguns,
archery equipment, caps and hats. Yet another
floor to ceiling showcase had every item affixable
to a bicycle—streamers, handlebars,
chains, reflectors, decals, mirrors, odometers
and speedometers, fenders and chain guards.
Bridal wreaths and silk flowers shared a window
with hand tools, votive candles and oils and
ointments for good luck.
Peso devaluations and the closing of Laredo
Air Force Base, coupled with the move of several
businesses from downtown to Mall del Norte,
transformed downtown Laredo into a shadow of
its prosperous 50s and 60s self. Much of the
Deco charm, fluted limestone, and colored tiles
have been veneered with tasteless, nondescript
modernity. The Kress building, however,
remains untouched, its outrageous architectural
integrity intact.
AT THE MOVIES
In 1957 a dollar bought a movie ticket, popcorn,
candy, and a drink. Two dollars got you
the works, which included movie fare and a
post-movie grilled cheese and shake at the City
Drug lunch counter next door. Movies were our
greatest childhood treats, except perhaps for a
chance weekend in San Antonio to see the
Icescapades or Roy Rogers at the San Antonio
Livestock Exposition.
Movie outings were what you did with your
friends on Saturdays or with your parents during
the week if you had no homework. Movies were
tendered as rewards for good schoolwork or
make-ups for painful trips to the dentist or something
as horrific as stitches or a broken wrist
There were three theatres downtown. The
blue and yellow-tiled Tivoli on Flores Street
across from City Hall was once called The Strand
and had seen better days. It seemed like a tired
place, worn at the edges and a little sticky.
66 ✦ HISTORIC LAREDO