Diana Finlay Hendricks
All photos by Carl Deal
Home is where your story begins. . .
Step inside the Big House on Burleson Street and you’ll find yourself immersed in a world of wonders—a museum of ancient and modern marvels. Every corner of Dealville tells a story, adorned with an array of artifacts and collectibles that span different eras and cultures. Antique furniture pieces mingle with vintage photographs, intriguing art pieces, and exotic souvenirs gathered from his travels around the globe.
Beyond the curiosities and treasures, the Big House on Burleson Street could tell plenty of stories in its own right. Nestled in the heart of the historic district of San Marcos, Texas, it was built around 1895, when the population of the town was less than 2,500. Today the population of the community is more than 55,000, and Texas State University adds an enrollment of more than 38,000, a sizeable increase from the first class of graduates which numbered 303, in 1903.
The first deed for the Big House was recorded in 1901. From her longleaf pine walls and oak floors to the worn, curved banister and sleeping porch turned balcony that offers spectacular views as far as neighboring counties, Dealville (The Kasch House), has plenty to say.
But let’s back up a minute and share a little history about San Marcos proper.
San Marcos is the county seat of Hays County, Texas. Located 23 miles southwest of Austin on Interstate 35, this community straddles the border of the Edwards Plateau and the Southern Blackland Prairie. An earthquake somewhere between 20 and 25 million years ago created Balcones Fault, a chasm in the geography, and a definitive line marking the end of the rich farming dirt of the Prairie and the hard-scrabble rock outcroppings and limestone.
It so happens that Dealville, which is the official name of the house, is located precisely on the fault line. It’s all right because the Balcones Fault has been inactive for nearly 15 million years, give or take.
The elevation rises from 719 feet above sea level to 734 feet between the front gate and back fence of the one-acre property that surrounds the Big House, creating a fine illustration of the definitive fault line that divides East Texas from West Texas.
The story of what we now call San Marcos, and what it has meant to human beings is actually an ancient story dating back more than 12,000 years. The Clovis Indians lived in the shade of cottonwood and oak trees along the banks of a sparkling clear, shallow river that mysteriously burst from underground with a rush of clean water flowing up from the Edwards Aquifer at a constant 72 degrees, year-round.
Those first residents of the area started a tradition that continues today as one of the longest, if not the longest occupied continuous cultural sequence in Texas and perhaps beyond, according to premier archeologist Dr. Jon Lohse.
Okay, sorry for the tangent. Back to Dealville: The Big House on Burleson Street. Without going down more rabbit holes, suffice to say that since 1901, the house remained occupied and only changed hands five times. The original owners, of the property, L. H, and Alice Brown sold the lot to W. A. Mimms. Not much is known about the Mimms family who lived there a short time before selling to the Colberts, who sold it to Ed Kasch and his wife in 1915. And that is when Dealville really became a home.
The Kasch family owned the cotton gin in San Marcos, at a time when cotton was king in Texas. Owning the gin was one of the most lucrative jobs in the cotton industry, and Ed Kasch was one of the leaders of this burgeoning community. The Kasches lived in the Big House on Burleson Street for the better part of the century, raising a family and watching the Twentieth Century unfold.
Today, this stately Victorian home with the town’s best view of the rolling hills of the Blackland Prairie stands up above the giant oaks and colorful crepe myrtles that line the streets leading up to the fault line.
In the mid-70s, the Kasch family sold to Tommy Hamilton, a local businessman, who sold it to the Granburys. The fourth owner, Howard B. Granbury, put his effort into the infrastructure of the house, repainting and repairing that which needed attention, as well as adding the formidable brick wall that surrounds the acre of property. And even the bricks had a story to share, as they were reclaimed from George Custer’s two-story limestone Italianate style residence in Austin.
Yes, that George Custer. He had been the military commander of the cavalry division the federal army stationed in Austin in the mid-1800s. The iron from Granbury’s gate was left over from the iron of the first fence surrounding the Texas state capitol, an early incarnation of the star-topped iron fencing that currently borders the statehouse.
Carl Deal entered the picture in the early 1980s. It’s difficult to avoid sounding trite when describing him as a true renaissance man, but Deal embodies a fascinating blend of diverse talents and experiences that are difficult to categorize. With a background as a former police commander and university professor, he brings a unique perspective to his endeavors as a commercial and fine art photographer. Today, as a photographer, Deal travels the world, capturing both commercial projects and fine art compositions that reflect his eye for detail and storytelling. His portfolio spans a wide range of subjects, from landscapes to portraits, each with its own story to tell.
Beyond photography, Carl Deal’s renaissance spirit is evident in his versatility and interests. He is as comfortable tinkering with the mechanics of a zero-turn lawn tractor or a 3,000-pound windmill as he is delving into the works of poets like Robert Frost or T.S. Eliot. His combination of practical skills and intellectual curiosity defines his approach to life and creativity.
Whether he’s behind the lens capturing a fleeting moment or exploring the complexities of philosophy, poetry and literature, Deal exemplifies a commitment to exploration, learning, and expression.
Deal’s parents were both chemists, Duke University grads and worked for Shell. His dad worked for Shell Development, which was the petrochemical arm of Shell Oil. His mom was oil woman of the year in the mid-1950s, an acclaimed leader in oil industry research for women. She was featured on radio shows around the country about what it was like to be a woman chemist. Deal and his three siblings grew up in a home where lifelong learning was expected. His father taught him that through research, he could learn how to do just about anything, and he took that lesson to heart.
A Texas State University alum, Deal was a San Marcos police officer in 1981. He purchased a “five-plex” rental property on the corner of Burleson and Kasch Streets, next door to The Big House on Burleson Street. The plan was to live in one unit and rent out the other units to help pay the rent. This was during the 1980s’ dreaded savings and loan crisis, and Deal was able to pick up the property at a bargain price. He recalls working a lot of overtime shifts at the police department and spending most of his off-duty time in “landlord on-the-job training,” repairing things at the apartments. As many property owners were losing their investments, Deal managed to keep his head above water. Along the way, he found time to get to know his neighbor, Howard Granbury.
Granbury was successful in the oil industry, until the early 1980s, when oil dropped to $14 a barrel. He hit rock bottom financially, and his wife took the children home to her parents in Dallas. Granbury stayed in the Big House. He and Deal would sit and talk about the state of the world and the challenges presented in those difficult times and smoke cigars on the veranda. Ultimately, Granbury filed for bankruptcy, tightened his belt, swallowed his pride, and moved up to Dallas to focus on rebuilding his family. Deal agreed to keep an eye on the Big House. He mowed Granbury’s rolling green lawn and maintained the landscaping every week. Before Granbury left, Deal said, “If you ever decide to sell this house, give me a chance to buy it.”
And so, only a few months later, Granbury called and told him it was going to be available. Deal was, by this time, a patrol sergeant, rotating through every shift in the department and enjoying his vocation. He worked hard for his money, and believed he could handle this purchase. Deal says he and Granbury made what may have been the last handshake deal in Texas.
“I went into the old State Bank and Trust downtown and walked straight into the president’s office. I did not stop to talk to a loan officer. I knew who Clovis Barker was and appreciated his old school way of banking. I introduced myself, and said I had a chance for a really great deal on a house, and need this much money, and am gainfully employed, work for the city, blah blah,” Carl recalls.
“Clovis Barker sat back and chewed on his cigar for a few minutes. Then he sat up and said, ‘Okay, I’ll give you the money.’ The next day I had the money in my account and was ready to buy.”
Because of the tax liens and other debts accrued by the Granburys, the closing was not simple. At the last moment, the IRS dropped another big lien on the house. Deal contacted them directly and negotiated a settlement agreement, paying off Granbury’s debt. Hurdling a few other complications caused by new regulations in light of the savings and loan crisis, Deal eventually became the new owner of the Big House on Burleson Street in February of 1992.
He moved into the Big House and immediately went to work. “It was dusty and dirty, and needed a coat of paint among a thousand other things. A lot needed to be fixed and I had a lot to learn,” Deal remembers. “We didn’t have Google or YouTube in 1992. But like they say, ‘The only thing that works in an old house is the owner.’”
Deal replaced the water lines and sewer lines, updated the plumbing, replacing the steel lines with copper. He replaced some beams and updated the electricity. “Under the house today you can still see the old knob-and-tube wiring that was not removed when it was replaced,” he describes. “And when I was updating the downstairs bathroom, walking down the hall from the front bedroom to the bathroom, I noticed something strange. The space did not add up. When I took the sheetrock off the bedroom side of the common wall between the two rooms, I found a complete bar, about 10-1/2 feet by 2-1/2 feet, with lights that worked, a sink that worked, and bottles on the shelves. It was as though someone along the way had said, ‘We are not having a bar in our house anymore,’ and just built a wall in front of it.”
And so it goes. For the past 32 years, Deal has learned something new about the Big House almost every day, and has learned how to do everything, literally from the ground up, to keep a historic home operating smoothly.
While rising in the ranks of the police department, Deal began teaching photography at the university. He taught several courses from basic film photography to digital imaging and even specialty courses like forensic photography and fine art. An avid semiprofessional photographer, he had immersed himself in the art and science of the subject. He traveled to photography courses and arranged lessons with some of the foremost photographers of our time, learning how to shoot movie stills and artistic portraiture from Greg Gorman in Los Angeles and culture and landscapes from Sam Abel of National Geographic. He went to the masters and they were generous with their time and friendship.
In December of 2003, Deal retired from the San Marcos Police Department after nearly a quarter century. He wanted to begin a new chapter and retired from teaching in 2006. It was time for him to explore those passions he had postponed through the years. He began to travel more, take on commercial photography projects, and most importantly, to learn new things.
In his travels, he met a West Texas rancher, George Gries. Gries had a 27,000-acre ranch in Val Verde County. Gries, quoting the brush-covered sign in the nearby community of Pandale, would say, “There’s not much out here, but there’s a hell of a lot more here than there is for 40 miles in any direction.”
Deal befriended the rancher and on regular visits to the ranch, would go out with the ranch hands to repair windmills and fix the pipes that pumped the water, as well as take pictures of the landscape. One particular windmill was long abandoned. It was in sand and had not been productive for many years. Deal asked and Gries gave him the defunct windmill and they coordinated with a drilling company from Ozona, Texas to “pull the heads off” and disassemble the giant machine to haul back to San Marcos.
Deal’s windmill is a 1915 sixteen-foot Aermotor F602 model. He explained, “A 16-footer is one of the largest ranch windmills that they make. The size of the fan is relative to the depth of the well.
A 16-foot windmill would go down 750 feet. This was the windmill that civilized the west.”
The motor with the blade and sails weighs 3000 pounds. “We drove back on Highway 90 going 40 miles per hour,” he recalled. The windmill was finally transported safely to San Marcos. Now what?
Deal and a friend hobbled the motor onto a sheet of plywood, drilled holes in the plywood and affixed it to the four-wheeler, pulling it like a sled off the trailer.
The motor had been sitting, unused, for decades. Deal took it apart and completely rebuilt it. When he needed advice, or to replace a part, he would drive out to Kutscher Drilling Company on the outskirts of San Marcos. Every week, Deal would visit with Daniel Kutscher, the third-generation owner of the business his grandfather created in 1925. Kutscher would gladly order parts or dig around and find an elusive part in his shop, or even teach him how to create a part if one was not available. But Daniel shook his head at the notion of hiring on to help set the historic windmill at The Big House on Burleson.
“Finally, one day Daniel said, ‘You know, Carl, there’s just no money in windmills anymore, but I’ve got a nephew who is working for me, and he could use somebody to help him.’ I jumped at the chance. For four months, I worked with his nephew, Will, all over Central Texas, helping to service windmills and learning everything I could.”
“After a few months, I had rebuilt the motor, sail and vane of the Aermotor. I had the tower and all of the parts ready to assemble. Out of the blue, one day, Daniel said, ‘All right. Today’s your day.’ The crew came to my house, and we reassembled the windmill – two trips actually – and set it in the ground. It had taken more than a year to get it up and running and get over the hump of the Historic Preservation Commission, and finally, it was my day. The windmill was going up,” Deal says.
“The original plan was to take it another step and use the 24-horsepower motor motion of the pump to run alternators on a fly wheel and power a generation system. When it was up and the motor was running, I drove my 91-year-old mother around town to show her that you really could see the windmill from all corners of town. The following week, she broke her hip, which ultimately led to her death, and the power generator plan just died on the vine.”
But Deal did not forget about his alternative energy ideas and options. In 2016, he bought his first set of 38 solar panels and five house batteries. He studied and learned how to install the system, and with the help of a local electrician to do the technical work, he set up the modern system in century-old house. Now, on a really good day, he can make 77,000 watts of electricity to use and store. With a modern HVAC system and original single pane poured glass windows (read: drafty), his energy bill went from an average of $750 to $1,000 a month to the record low of $10.25. Ten dollars and twenty-five cents.
Last year, Dealville got an extreme makeover. The exterior of the house was sanded and painted, with Deal spending countless hours in his woodshop copying and creating exact replicas of the moldings and trim, porch railings, and other ornamental wood pieces decorating the exterior of the Big House that had yielded to weather and age—or squirrels. He had a new metal roof installed, replacing the original roofs which was made of corrugated metal and cedar wood shakes. He expects that this one might last another hundred years or so.
Today, Dealville serves not only as a sanctuary for Carl Deal’s artistic pursuits but also as a living museum of sorts—a place where visitors can marvel at the unexpected and the extraordinary. Each item, carefully curated and displayed, offers a glimpse into Carl Deal’s fascination with history, craftsmanship, and the inherent beauty of objects with a story to tell.
The sign at the foot of the sidewalk gives passers-by a glimpse of what is inside the Big House on Burleson Street:
Dealville
The Kasch House
Circa 1900
902 Burleson Street
The Museum of Ancient and Modern Marvels
And oh, the stories she can tell.
You can check out more of Carl Deal’s amazing photography at CarlDealPhotography.com.