If a Texas town was once home to a county courthouse, chances are it also hosted a department store.

Most of these retail palaces are long gone. Yet physical and archival evidence remains, in courthouse squares and on downtown streets. What’s more, the stores live on in the remembrances of customers who shopped there.

Recently, I revived memories of Scarbroughs, a family-owned store that served Austin in various forms from 1893 to 2009. This story could be reasonably comprehensive because the archives of longtime manager Francis Amsler are now housed at the Austin History Center.

When it opened as Scarbrough and Hicks’ general store in the 400 block of Congress Avenue in 1893, Austin was home to a mere 15,000 people, and most of the store’s customers were rural.

Its 1883 predecessor by the same name served the Milam County town of Rockdale, population 1,000.

At the end of my Sept. 4 story on Scarbroughs, I asked readers to send in their reminiscences about the store. I’m sharing some of those memories here. Now I invite you to do the same regarding your hometown department store; email your memories to [email protected]

Memories of Scarbroughs: ‘It was one of the few stores with a milliner, and I do love hats.’

To get the memory streams flowing, I offer these snippets about Scarbroughs from Austin readers:

Bob House: My mom worked at the Austin National Bank and that meant half a day Saturday. We were living with my grandparents near Henly (in Hays County) and I sometimes went with her on those Saturdays; often we would get a chance to visit downtown stores. Christmas was a special magic time. Wonderful things that lived in catalogs for rural folks could be seen in the big department store downtown. The later incarnations in the malls were OK, but the pace and memories weren’t there.

John Watson: Many young boys around Austin, who would not have otherwise been much of a customer base, were attracted to the store for one reason: It had a department that sold the official Boy Scout apparel and uniforms. Plus other paraphernalia for use by Boy Scouts. Going to Scarbroughs and getting my first uniform and kerchief was a thrilling adventure for me, and for hundreds of other young Austin boys. (Girls Scouts picked up their uniforms there, too.)

More:Texas forever: How to set up a memory page online for your favorite city

John M. Davis: Scarbroughs may have been one of the first stores to issue credit cards to women without their husband’s signature, but this was not always the case. Scarbroughs was the first credit card we had after my wife and I were married. When my wife, Alice, tried to get a card in her name, she was refused and told that she would need to be on her husband’s card. I have never seen her so angry. 

Fotiní Margos: We lived in a little house just up from Lake Austin Boulevard and would catch the bus and go into town with Mama, and get off at the corner where Scarborough’s was. We would also have lunch at Woolworth’s across the street at the lunch counter there. This photograph of the old Scarboroughs is precious to me because of my memories of that time, which are so closely connected to my memories of my parents.

Bea Esquivel: I found your story on the Scarboroughs store very heartwarming, and reading it brought back many memories. Although I wasn’t in a position to make purchases when I visited the store, I remember to this day how it felt to walk through those fancy, heavy doors on occasion, and the sights, sounds and smells waiting for me on the other side. 

One memory etched in my mind is the day I shopped for my wedding dress. Convinced by my best friend to “just go look” for the perfect dress, we walked through those doors, knowing I could never afford to buy. I remember feeling the hesitation of the staff to wait on us, and sensing they knew perfectly well I would not be able to afford a bridal gown.

More:Tastes like Texas? Tell us the dish(es) you think best rep our big giant state

But I also remember how the staff guided me to stand on a perfectly positioned small platform, surrounded by mirrors, to get the full effect of seeing how beautiful the gown was and how I beautiful I felt in that moment. It was 1973 and I was just a kid at 17. 

A few months later, we returned to Scarboroughs to be photographed for our high school senior picture. Both of these visits made me feel a little bit special and somewhat accepted at a time when acceptance was not common for me.

After learning in depth about the Scarborough family in your article, I can now see how the family strived to make customers feel welcomed, even a brown-skinned shopper like me who was “just looking.” Makes me smile as I write these words. 

Derek Brooks:  Back in the early 1960s, when I was a little lad, I would ride the bus from our house on Collier Street — which was not paved yet — to downtown to go visit my grandmother who worked in the ladies alterations department sewing away all day. I had a free run of the whole store as I was there quite a lot and most employees knew me.

I would hop off the bus without a care in the world, run across the street, and go up to the fourth floor in the northwest corner, and go through a couple of doors, and there she was working away with at least eight women doing their thing on those old Singer sewing machines. I would run in and go visit for a little bit, then wander out quite often to the basement candy department.

In the Christmas time I once followed Santa into a small room where I asked “Where are you going?” He replied: “Up to the roof to get my reindeer.” Just one of my fond memories of our beloved Scarbroughs.

Forrest Preece: Many times during the 1950s, my mother used to take me downtown to Scarbroughs on the bus — she never learned how to drive — and that made for hours of excitement. After we entered the store, she would park me in the books and toys section where I would leaf through their latest literary offerings.

Then she would seat herself at the long counter where the store sold sewing patterns for dresses. I often looked at her and the other women perched there in a row, all examining the patterns with the intensity of researchers monitoring time-critical experiments in a laboratory.

When it was lunch time, she would round me up and we would go to the store’s Cape Cod Grill. The atmosphere in that café was warm and smelled buttery. The fare was simple — meat or fish with some vegetables, and pie for dessert. The meals were accompanied by oblong pieces of hot, fresh-baked corn pone, just crusty enough to make a crunchy bite.  

More:Pioneering history: In Marble Falls, tales of a legendary mayor, a museum and those pies

Deborah K. Dobbs: In the 1970s/1980s, I worked at Graves, Dougherty, Hearon & Moody, a law firm across the street from Scarbroughs. I spent many lunch hours in the store shopping and occasionally had a bite to eat in the basement restaurant. It was one of the few stores with a milliner, and I do love hats. 

The window displays were always of interest, but one day I found a display very disturbing: It had a well-dressed mannequin with her arms tied against her body with a rope. The rope was stretched taught and disappeared from view, held by an unknown, unseen source.  

I had recently seen a high-fashion magazine with an ad of a woman being menaced by a snarling dog. Displaying women as victims by fashion stores seemed incredibly stupid and made me angry. I called Scarbroughs and spoke with someone in management I believe. I shared my displeasure and concern. I also said I would not shop at the store and would destroy my credit card unless and until the display was removed.

Several hours later a friend saw the display. Nothing had been removed. But, by the end of the day, the display had been removed. They listened and I could continue to shop at Scarbroughs without guilt!     

Joe Hart: That was about the only store my family shopped at unless it was for groceries. We bought so many of our clothes and other items there. Parking wasn’t much of a problem back then; also, eventually, the American National Bank parking garage across the alley was made available for shoppers.         

Lem and Margaret Scarbrough were friends of my parents, Katherine and Jim Hart. My parents were part of a square dancing group that met regularly with the Scarbroughs at the barn, or carriage house, in back of their home on Whitis Street. They attended the Scarbroughs’ annual New Year’s Eve party every year. My older sisters and brothers grew up with “Little” Margaret and “Little” Lem, as they were called. 

I wish the Sixth and Congress store could have hung on a little longer. With the revitalization of downtown maybe they could have survived. 

One reader gets wonderfully detailed

Suzanne Forester Stein: Your article in the Sunday paper about Scarbroughs brought back such fond memories:

1. The elevators with the attendant who had a bronze seat he could pull down to sit on and the bronze handle he would pull to deliver us to the floor we asked for.

2. The pattern and fabric section in the back rear corner where my mother and I would sit and look through the pattern books to select the “right” dress and then go locate the appropriate material.

3. I never had a “store bought dress” that wasn’t a “hand me down” until junior high when we would go to the floor that carried Bobbie Brooks skirts and sweaters and Jonathan Logan dresses.

4. The Santa Claus who was in the basement at Christmas time.

5. The toy section in the basement where I would spot a Storybook Doll I wanted and would save up my $.25 allowance until I could buy the one I wanted.

6. A huge treat was to go down to the basement’s cafe and order enchiladas. Still to this day, my sister and I compare all enchiladas we eat to Scarbroughs enchiladas.

7. My wedding dress came from Scarbroughs. My sister had bought it with a discount when she was wrapping gifts there during the summer and I wore it after her wedding in March for ours in August.

8. Buying shoes from Mr. Ecklund that were black patent leather with a large white patent bow on the top. I later saw a photo in the paper of Luci Johnson wearing those same shoes while she was pregnant with her son. I liked those shoes so much that I still have them.

9. As a young child, sitting in the car out front of Scarbroughs while my mother would run in for an item. I would sit and make up stories about all those passing by.

10. All the sales ladies wearing black long-sleeve dresses and often with a sparkly broach.

11. Buying all my Girl Scout uniforms there.

12. This I know is too much information, but in the basement is where all my panties came from. They were cotton with cotton eyelet lace along the legs and they were made in El Campo, Texas. I still wore “basement panties,” up to the largest size made, when I was in college. Girls would make fun of me but I loved them so much I wouldn’t let their opinions faze me!

13. I well remember waiting for the doors to open on Dec. 26 so we could hit the after-Christmas sale where we would buy our wrapping paper and cards for the coming year.

14. This memory is too long to write, but shoes were delivered to our house by Mr. Lem Scarbrough Jr. himself!  

15.  When other stores began appearing, we soon learned that, if we wanted anything, we should just skip those stores and go directly to Scarbroughs because what we were looking for would be there. 

 Thanks again for writing this article and bringing all these memories back.  

Michael Barnes writes about the people, places, culture and history of Austin and Texas. He can be reached at [email protected]. Sign up for the free weekly Think Texas newsletter at statesman.com/newsletters.com.