5 minute read

Nearly a month since the last update, and it was a dense one: a family documentation session that settled two long-open genealogy questions, a photo re-dating that moved a landmark image five years and one photographer, a new accession that closes the Master Chef story at the modern end, and a site migration that quietly finished its build-out. Here’s what moved.

The June 19 Draves session

Nancy and Tim Draves sat for a second recorded session on June 19, and the material it produced worked through the files for weeks afterward.

The headline document is “Great Oaks From Little Acorns Grow” — Gus P. Menger’s six-page typed history of the H&H Coffee Company, held by the Draves family and long carried in the KB as our most important unacquired source. The family consented to scanning, and the cleaned pages are now in the reference gallery as HH-REF-1972-0001 through 0007, each with a per-page transcription. The synthesis built on it moved from “reliability: mixed” (we were working from recollections of the document) to “high” (we hold the document). In all, 81 pages of CZUR scans from the session were cataloged into the manifest.

The scans also resolved a genealogy question we’d been circling: Dr. Rudolph Menger’s parents were Simon (Johann) Menger — the soap-works Menger — and Augusta Louisa Menger, not the phantom “Johann and Augusta” couple who “arrived Texas 1846” that earlier sources had conjured. The correction propagated through the family pages, and the conflict note is now marked resolved.

Pulling on the Simon Menger thread led to a full research pass on the Menger Soap Works, now compiled as its own place page: founded 1850 on San Pedro Creek, San Antonio’s first industrial enterprise, and the building still stands — possibly the oldest extant industrial building in Texas, though the sources only support that superlative with a hedge. The family lore that it was the first manufacturing concern in all of Texas did not survive verification, and we said so on the page.

The billboard photo is 1929, and it isn’t a Zintgraff

A magnified read of the grease-pencil annotation on the South Crescent billboard photograph forced a cascade of corrections. The print we had filed as a 1934 Zintgraff photo is actually September 14, 1929 — and it’s the left half of a two-billboard Summerville Photo panorama from the Burnett Street era, before the Delaware Street plant existed. The Zintgraff studio stamp in the lot belongs to the 1933 N.R.A. parade print, not the billboard.

That unwound a second, older error: the 2023 Sunday Light post had conflated the July 1932 article’s planned rooftop sign with a “Fragrant” billboard. The companion 1932 illustrations make clear the planned rooftop sign was the giant Crystalvac jar — and the 1933 N.R.A. photo shows a bare roofline, so whether it was ever installed remains unconfirmed. The N.R.A. print itself also moved a year, from 1934 to 1933, and its parade key was transcribed into the artifact roster.

A small postscript to the same photographer thread: two linen-era San Antonio postcards entered the collection as HH-EPHEMERA-2026-0001 and 0002 — a c.1948 postally-used skyline card credited to Summerville Photo, the same studio behind the 1929 panorama, and a Curteich “Venice of Texas” River Walk card. Neither is an H&H object; both are documented context.

The Master Chef terminus

A current-production Master Chef can — 30.5 ounces, cobalt blue, made by Massimo Zanetti Beverage USA, $9.89 on eBay — is now accessioned as HH-CAN-2026-0009 and written up in full. It’s the physical endpoint of the live MASTER CHEF coffee registration (Reg. 2366913), filed in 1998 by Continental Coffee Products — the company that bought H&H in 1962 — and now held by Zanetti. The post is careful about what that does and doesn’t prove: the lineage is corporate and onomastic, not a documented unbroken chain of title, and the 1968–1998 use gap stays open. A CFS Holdings filing sitting in that gap is the next thread to pull.

We also ingested the Wikipedia article on the Massimo Zanetti Beverage Group, mostly for its negative finding: it never mentions Sara Lee, Continental, or CFS at all, so the chain still rests entirely on the trademark record. And one correction along the way: the chef mascot is in the Cortez family’s 2016 anniversary artwork — an earlier note claiming otherwise was wrong, and the published post reflects the corrected reading.

New pages from the missing-concepts survey

A survey of entities the KB kept mentioning but never described produced a dozen new pages across two batches: Handy-Andy Stores and Master Chef Food Products (the Continental subsidiary that ran the brand out of 601 Delaware), the Zintgraff Studio, the Cortez family, the Spahn family, glass historian Julian Harrison Toulouse, plus Folgers, WOAI, George C. Sauer, Harry Hertzberg, and the 1919 Kenilworth address — each cross-linked from its first mention throughout the KB.

The stories layer grew too: a new narrative draft, “A Native of Germany: The German-Texan Founding of H and H,” covering 1845–1912, joined the story hubs alongside the Tejano market and roaster-equipment-lifecycle narratives.

Tooling and infrastructure

The big one: the Astro migration of this site (IMP-37) completed its build-out — all page families ported with URL parity, 1,732 pages building clean, internal links rewritten, a real client-side search shipped via Pagefind, and a deploy script plus cutover runbook ready. All that remains is the curator-run production cutover. Quieter housekeeping in the same period: valid frontmatter restored on 66 pages, sources: backfilled on 85, the Sam Houston pail and Texas Girl bag honestly reclassified from “collection” to reference (we don’t hold them), and stopgap eBay-screenshot images added to 15 accession records — 11 of which still need real scans.

What’s next

The production cutover to the new site is the obvious near-term move, and the CFS Holdings trademark filing is the most promising research thread for closing the Master Chef gap. On the collection side, the 11 accessions carrying screenshot stand-ins need proper photography — the kind of unglamorous week that usually turns up something we didn’t expect.