A notorious crime over fifty years ago in Texas changed the way Americans view courtroom drama—not just as fictional entertainment but as reality programming. In December of 1955, the murder trial of Harry Leonard Washburn of Houston in a McLennan County courtroom brought not only scores of observers from around the country but also the eyes of local viewers who were mesmerized by the proceedings.
On January 19, 1955, San Angelo police arrived at the scene of a car-bombing, a rare crime virtually unheard of in Texas. The victim—Helen Harris Weaver, 51, a rancher and well-known architect’s wife—was killed instantly by a bomb wired to the ignition of her husband’s car. Police presumed he was the intended target.
It wasn’t long before newspapers named Washburn, the Weavers’ former son-in-law, as a suspect. Most accounts described him as “a down-and-out contractor.” Further investigation found that Washburn apparently had been unsuccessfully trying to hire a hit man for the job but ultimately decided to do it himself. Police described his motive as anger over being cut out of the family fortune. A colorful parade of witnesses—barmaids, strippers, female wrestlers, and assorted thugs—testified that Washburn planned to kill his father-in-law and then extort protection money from the widow to keep the rest of the family from harm.
Because of the amount of pretrial publicity in and around San Angelo, the Tom Green County district attorney and defense attorneys sought a change of venue. Judge Drummond W. Bartlett of McLennan County offered to move the trial to Waco. Bartlett also agreed to allow a KWTX-TV camera to broadcast the proceedings from the balcony of his 54th State District Court. The previous summer, he had allowed John Bennett of the Waco Tribune-Herald staff to experiment with unobtrusive courtroom photography. Advocates of cameras in the courtroom argued that television equipment could be unobtrusive, thereby not damaging to the decorum of the process.
Critics argued that however inconspicuous, the mere presence of cameras turned the judicial process into show business—jeopardizing the defendant’s right to a fair trial. Asked if he minded live television coverage of his trial, Washburn said: “Naw, let it go all over the world.” He was later found guilty and sentenced to life in prison.
There was coverage from the opening gavel to the conclusion of each day—unedited and commercial-free, according to station general manager M. N. “Buddy” Bostick. All other programming was nixed, resulting in a $10,000 revenue loss to the young station—an almost $80,000 impact in today’s dollars.
The only special accommodations made for the broadcasters was boosting the lighting from 50-watt bulbs to 100-watt bulbs and hiding three microphones among the furnishings: the witness’s stand, judge’s bench, and prosecutor’s table.
From December 6 through December 9 in 1955, as the story goes, one could have “shot a cannon down Austin Avenue . . . and not hurt a soul” because the normally frenzied Christmas shoppers were all inside watching the trial. After a four-day trial, Washburn was convicted of murder, and Waco television had made history.
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]]>As Americans took to the road in an age of expanded highway systems and ease of travel, the Alamo Plaza Courts Hotel pioneered the field of luxury motels. From a small but luxurious beginning in Waco, the company grew into a nationwide chain known for its safety, comfort, and distinct style in the mid-twentieth century.
Alamo Plaza founder Edgar Lee Torrence, born in 1893 and raised in McLennan County, grew up in Waco at a time when the city’s business culture began to develop. Architecture, such as the Amicable and Praetorian buildings, and the wealth of higher-education opportunities, found at institutions like Baylor University, Paul Quinn College, and Texas Christian University, reflected this changing atmosphere. The climate agreed with Torrence, who received a degree from Toby’s Business College after high school. After working as a bookkeeper, the young entrepreneur set out upon his own, opening a used car business just as the automobile industry began to take off throughout the nation around 1918.
The expanding US highway system in the 1920s struck Torrence as a unique opportunity. Though tourist cabins – typically known for convenience as opposed to comfort and cleanliness – dotted the highways, few respectable options existed for economical travelers. Torrence sought to fill this gap through a partnership with Waco Judge D. W. Bartlett. Altering their original plans to build an apartment, the pair laid plans for the construction of a luxury motel in the bustling city.
The Alamo Plaza Tourist Apartments—later renamed the Alamo Plaza Courts Hotel—opened on the 900 block of Elm Avenue in 1929 with a façade mirrored after a striking symbol used throughout the state to garner Texas pride. An open house featured the American Legion Drum and Bugle Corps, and local newspapers touted the complex as “Waco’s finest tourist apartments” offering travelers every modern comfort. This would come to be the model upon which Torrence operated the Alamo Plaza business.
Adamant that Alamo Plaza remain distinct in every way, Torrence avoided the U-shape design prevalent among tourist cabins at that time. In an interview in 1953, he dismissed that model as “fit only for a barn,” instead utilizing the façade of the Alamo in San Antonio to frame the front and rear entrances to the motel, connected by a single story of tourist apartments on each side.
Despite the onset of the Great Depression shortly after construction, Alamo Plaza saw success in Waco, prompting Torrence to open a second location in Tyler, Texas, in 1931. He continued to expand the business into one of the first national motel chains, placing Alamo Plazas in multiple southern states. He sometimes partnered with family members or friends to open new locations. At other times, enterprising businessmen copied his luxury motel model and utilized the complex name, often without his permission.
As early as 1931, newspaper advertisements described Alamo Plaza motels as among the nation’s finest. The basis for similar motels in over twenty cities throughout the nation, the Alamo Plaza Courts Hotel in Waco became known for safe, comfortable, and innovative accommodations. In 1936, Alamo Plaza motels became some of the first in the nation to place telephones in individual rooms. Just over a decade later, the chain once again became a pioneer in the field, placing a television set in each room.
Though Waco’s Alamo Plaza Courts Hotel closed in the mid-1950s, the model the business established continued on throughout the nation for many years.
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