By Marie Hughes, director of Chambers County Museum at Wallisville
Levi Edgar Glass, father of the Glass brothers of Oak Island, Texas, was born in Leesville, La., in 1914. He was named after a Jewish merchant who had loaned Levi’s sharecropper grandfather, Samuel Garrison Glass, money to plant his crop. Although Samuel was an educated man and head instructor at the local school, he found himself swept up in the economic decline of the era.
Levi spent much of his childhood working beside his grandfather, learning firsthand the difficult life of a sharecropper. Together, the two lived between the promise of the Roaring Twenties and the harsh realities of rural poverty. Leesville, situated along the edge of Louisiana’s pine forests, still had a frontier feel shaped by logging and farming. During lean years, many sharecroppers took jobs cutting timber or hauling logs to supplement their meager income.
By 1925, the logging boom had faded and agriculture was in decline due to falling post–World War I prices. The future for the Glass family looked even leaner. At age 11, Levi helped his grandfather load their wagon with the family’s few possessions before heading to Texas, where the booming oil industry promised new opportunities.
As the scent of fresh-cut pine and the sounds of Louisiana jazz faded behind him, Levi set out toward the Texas frontier with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. The muddy, rutted roads made for slow travel, but each mile carried them closer to the hopeful new life awaited in the West.
By the time they arrived, Baytown and Humble Oil were exploding with growth. Samuel Glass settled there and opened a bar, Sam’s Place, at the south gate of Humble Oil Company, now Exxon. Although Prohibition was technically law, enforcement was far from consistent in Texas. With coastal access and busy ports, Baytown became a hotspot for smuggling, and speakeasies thrived.
“I would imagine Baytown was pretty wild in those days,” said Sam Glass, youngest son of Levi Glass. “It was during the roaring twenties and a boom town because of the building of the Humble Refinery. It was during the prohibition days and my dad told me that he and another kid would carry a gallon of kerosene in one hand and a gallon of moonshine from the bootlegger in the other and walk down the boardwalk in front of the joints to my grandfather’s so-called café and pool hall called Sam’s Place.”
Sam said lawmen occasionally confronted the boys, though rarely with consequence.
“He said a couple of times the sheriff would ask the boys, ‘what y’all got in them jugs?’ and they would say, ‘kerosene sir,’ then hand him the one with the kerosene. He would smell it then tell them to get out of there. Sam’s Place was next door to a world famous brothel called Maw Church’s. The seamen who make port there would frequent it,” he explained.
As Baytown continued to grow, more family followed. Levi’s father, James Calvin Glass, later arrived in Texas and became a pipefitting superintendent for Humble Oil. Levi learned to weld at an early age and put those skills to work during World War II at Todd Shipyard on Greens Bayou in Houston, helping build Liberty ships. After the war, he farmed rice in Crosby while continuing to weld. In the early 1950s, he joined the Pile Drivers, Divers and Wharf Local Union 2079 in Houston.
The family eventually relocated to Chambers County.
“The Glass family moved to Oak Island on Double Bayou in 1957 and started a seafood business with an old World War II mine sweeper that my dad converted into a shrimp boat,” Sam said. “Then, in the early 70s the family started Glass and Son’s Shipyard at Oak Island, Texas. My dad built 7 steel-hull shrimp boats 35′ to 65′ in length.”
Sam said his father was gifted at repurposing equipment and solving mechanical problems.
“He was a master at getting an idea and making it work or repurposing something,” Sam said. “He understood hydraulics and purposed them for his needs on the boats he built. My brothers and I got all of our know-how and drive to build Stab Cat from him. All three of his boys followed in his footsteps.”
Sam also credited his mother, Gladys Gertrude “Dutch” Glass, for holding their home together. She was born in 1917 to Frank Otto Teten and Bessie Jane Ayrhart in Goose Creek, Texas, where her family owned a dairy farm.
“She was delivered at the dairy farm by Dr. Schilling, whose office was on Cedar Bayou at the time,” Sam said. “Whether it was the elder Schilling or the son is unclear.”
Gladys was the eldest of eight siblings. Her family, of Dutch descent, migrated from the Midwest to Baytown, drawn by the booming Pelly oil field, where her father became a wooden derrick builder. Alongside that work, the Tetens continued operating their dairy.
“Gladys said her brothers would milk the cows by hand before going to school and then again when they returned home in the evening,” Sam said.
During World War II, Gladys, her mother and two aunts worked at the San Jacinto Ordnance Depot on the north side of the Houston Ship Channel.
“It was all women who crated the bombs, and then the longshoremen would load them onto the ships,” Sam explained.
Gladys’ determination carried over into her married life. When she and James built their brick home in 1956, she laid all the interior rows of brick, wired the house and built the cabinets, while James laid the exterior bricks. The home survived Hurricanes Carla, Alicia, Ike and Beryl and remains standing and family owned today.
Eddie Levi Glass
“My brother, Eddie Levi Glass, was a unique person,” said Sam. “Everything he did was done as perfectly as he could possibly do it. He was on a troop ship headed towards Korea and the Korean War, but three days before he landed in Fourchon, South Korea, the armistice was signed between the United States and North Korea creating the demilitarized zone at the 38th parallel. Eddie was in air defense, but as the wisdom of the Army goes, they made him a typist. He could smoke a typewriter,” exclaimed Sam.
Sam said Eddie’s remarkable speed at the keyboard came from work he had done as a teenager.
“He could type 80 to 90 words per minute because he and some other high school students re-typed all the Cold Springs, Texas court records for 50 cents a page and they had to be error free. Because a neighboring county courthouse had burned down, Cold Springs wanted to back up all of their records. Wouldn’t a copying machine have been nice, but this was in 1951,” noted Sam.
Eddie’s talents extended far beyond typing.
“Eddie was sharp. He taught himself to run the AutoCAD programs that Stab Cat needed, mastering them without formal training. He could type a letter like a Philadelphia lawyer and if you said a word he could spell it. Beyond his brains he had music in him. With his guitar he could bring Marty Robbins’ El Paso and Eddie Arnold’s Cattle Call to life and one would be hard pressed to distinguish between the voices. Folks would toss tips into the center hole of his guitar. Joe and I were lucky to be able to play the juke box if we had a quarter,” laughed Sam.
Life on the road also showcased Eddie’s resourcefulness.
“I can’t count the times that we would be on a job somewhere staying in some flea-bitten motel and Eddie would flip that old auditorium size Gibson guitar over on the bed and shake out the tips people had stuffed into the center hole the night before. He would use it to buy us breakfast. He could sell an Eskimo an ice box and talk pile driving to pile drivers because he had definitely walked the walk,” said Sam with obvious admiration for his older brother’s abilities.
Eddie’s career took a dramatic turn in 1969.
“In 1969, while on a job in East Pakistan for Raymond International a pile pulled apart and fell on him. As a result it broke his collar bone, all of his ribs on one side, his hip and both legs. An inch and three quarters of one leg was completely pulverized. He returned to the states accompanied by a nun who was a nurse in the American Mission Hospital in East Pakistan. He was in a body cast from the waist down. A doctor in Houston, Texas put him back together again. I only saw him briefly in the hospital because I was shipping out to Vietnam,” said Sam.
Despite his injuries, Eddie worked his way back.
“He was on total Social Security disability for about five years. In 1974, I was running a crane in the Persian Gulf on a Brown and Root lay barge and I received a letter from him. He said he felt he could go back to work if there was anything on the barge he could do. I went to the barge superintendent, Billie Dean Taylor and he sent a Tel-x to Houston. Two weeks later Eddie got off the supply boat, guitar in Hand. From that time forward, he never looked back, he went on to set pile driving records. All three Glass brothers were in Raymond Inc. Mile of Pile Club. This meant that we drove 5,280′ of pilings in the ground in an 8-hour shift. What made this job unique was the rig Eddie used was completely steam-driven. It might have been steam but it was faster than greased lightning.”
Eddie’s skills continued to serve him long after.
“After the 1st Gulf War in 1991, Eddie worked putting out oil well fires. He supervised building the berms around the burning wells and pumping sea water into them from the Persian Gulf. This was to cool the ground around them because the ground was so hot that even though they would blow out the fire it would reignite. He worked with all the Hell Fighters; Red Adair, Boots and Coots, Wild Well Control and Safety Control. He was working for Betchel International at this time. In 1993, Eddie took over operations at the Louisiana office of Stab Cat working there until his death in 2020. He was a born leader and always game for trying something new. He will be sorely missed,” concluded Sam.
James Otto Glass
“Just like my brother, Eddie, my brother Joe was unique,” said younger brother Sam. “I had a front row seat and sometimes a ringside seat growing up with him. He was tough, rough, and most of the time, just like Eddie and me, he was not politically correct, but that was the world we were raised in,” declared Sam.
Sam said the family moved often during their early years.
“In the early 50s, my dad rice farmed on the West side of the Trinity River at Camilla, Texas, where the Lake Livingston Dam is now. There was no dam there when he farmed there and the Trinity flooded his fields 3 years in a row. He gave up rice farming and the family moved back to Baytown and he went back to welding. Eddie joined the Army and dad, mom, Joe and I moved into a little tin house that my grandfather Teten, Joe and mother built on the end of South Road in Baytown, while dad was working offshore. It was very small, it couldn’t have been more than 20′ x 20′. It was so small that Joe’s and my headboard was back-to-back to dad and mom’s headboard. The only room that was petitioned off was the bathroom.”
Boxing also became a major influence on Joe’s life.
“My uncle, Frank Glass, had been a boxer in the Pacific Fleet during World War II. He had a ring at his house in Highlands, Texas and he got Joe and Ted into boxing. At Robert E. Lee High School in Baytown, after football season was over, every Friday night was fight night. Joe would fight his weight and go on to fight all weights. I never saw him lose. He had dozens of golden gloves he had won hanging from the rear view mirror of his old Mercury. I think my brother and his cousins would fight anybody anytime with or without gloves,” grinned Sam.
Joe’s athletic ability became apparent early.
“Joe was eleven years older than me and I didn’t realize it at the time but I was an eye-witness to a real athlete in the making. During the summer time Joe would work for our uncle Benny Ferrell, who was the maintenance man at Robert E. Lee High School. Joe would run to Robert E. Lee to work, which was about 4.5 miles according to Google Earth, and run back to the little tin house before dark. I never understood why he didn’t take his car, but that was Joe, he was the J. J. Watts of the day. He was coached by the great Dan Stallworth, who was his high school coach. When he graduated he was offered 26 different full-ride scholarships, but he went to the University of Houston where Al Lahar was the head coach at the time. Joe was the youngest player to start a conference game at Rice Stadium, playing in 1957. They won that conference game that year. In college he played a Blue-Gray game at Texas A & M. Bear Bryant was the coach for A & M at that time, but he didn’t coach that game. However, he did talk to the players and Joe was super impressed with him. Joe was offered a chance to try out for the Green Bay Packers, but he opted out to start a family. He played two seasons for the Houston Flyers, a semi-pro football team, and I got a chance to be their water boy. They played some real football because it wasn’t about the money; it was just for the love of the game.”
Joe later transitioned into a successful career with Raymond International.
“Joe went on to be the southern manager of Raymond International, which at the time was the largest foundation company in the world. Joe was over all of Raymond International jobs south of the Mason Dixon Line. Just like Eddie and I, he was a member of the Mile-of-Pile Club. All three of us brothers drove every type of pile in almost every part of the world. Joe was a competitor in everything he did, whether playing football, pool, hunting, driving pile or fishing, he would one up you. Joe’s and my good friend, Dick Walker, talk all the time about if there was a flounder within a mile of us while we were fishing they would just come over to the boat and give up to Joe. He just had their number,” laughed Sam.
Sam said Joe was known for his toughness and high expectations.
“One thing about Joe Glass,” declared Sam, “there was no quit in him, he was like a pit bulldog, once he started something he would fight it until it got done. Joe wasn’t easy to work with but if you did your job he would stand behind you 100%. There was a joke at the union hall, if one of us Glass brothers called the hall for a crew the pile drivers would ask which one of the Glass brothers it was. If it was Joe they would request to be put on the bottom of the go-out list and go back to playing dominoes. More than likely Joe had run their butt off before. Joe had a reputation, if you couldn’t get it you couldn’t stay and it was his way or the highway and he meant it,” Sam exclaimed.
Joe’s later work was just as impactful.
“Joe and I started Stab Cat in 1993 and both our names are on the patents. Joe retired in 2000 and ran Stab Cat full time until his death in 2017. Just like my brother Eddie, he will be sorely missed,” Sam stated sadly.
Sam M. Glass
“I grew up in Oak Island, south of Anahuac, Texas, where my family ran seafood and shipyard businesses” said Sam. “My father was a welder by trade, and he built steel hull shrimp boats from the keel up.”
Sam was essentially raised as an only child, as his two brothers were 11 and 13 years older and had begun families of their own in Oak Island by the time he started school. His childhood revolved around helping in the family business.
“Growing up my life was not ‘give-me’ as a kid, I was a welder’s helper, tool room boy, and anything my father needed to build the boats. I learned a lot and it has stuck with me to this day. Life was good at Double Bayou for me, as a kid. We moved to Chambers County in 1956 and when I was not helping my father or mother with something I had a john boat, 22-rifle, and a beagle dog. As a kid, I spent most of my time hunting nutria rats and alligators and running trot lines, most of the time with my old beagle. His name was Beat You, because he would always try to beat you in the front door of the house. Mother did not allow dogs in the house, but every now and then he would figure out a new entrance plan,” said Sam with a chuckle.
As he grew older, Sam began taking on more responsibility around the bayou.
“When I was in about the eighth grade, I ran shrimp boats and crew boats because, in our little community, my father’s friends were all licensed crew boat captains or tugboat captains, who knew their business well. They showed me how to operate a boat the right way. As a kid, I learned so much from them. I could not have asked for a better situation than my father, mother, brothers, and friends as my mentors. Although it required significant effort, the experience was invaluable as I acquired knowledge not typically found in books,” declared Sam.
Sam entered the workforce early.
“In 1964 at the age of fifteen, I went to work on my first public job. I started out my pile driving career as a laborer. The job was located where Interstate 10 crosses from Port Allen, La., to Baton Rouge, La., on the Port Allen side of the Mississippi River. Beginning in 1964 and continuing throughout high school, I worked each summer and during Christmas holidays with either Eddie or Joe Glass, they were both supervisors for Raymond Concrete Pile. When I graduated from Anahuac high school in 1967, I had a union book out of local 2079 Houston Texas Pile Drivers, Wharf Workers and Divers local union. I was employed through the union hall until I was drafted in 1969,” said Sam.
Sam served in the U.S. Army in Germany and Vietnam from 1967 to 1970, rising to the rank of E-5 buck sergeant. He received the National Defense Service Medal, Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal, Vietnam Service Medal and Army Commendation Medal for meritorious achievement.
“The union hall kept my book on reserve status until I got out of the Army in 1970, then I picked it back up and started working out of the hall again. I kept a paid-up union book for 23 years and then I was completely in supervision. Around 1985, most southern states adopted an open shop policy, which allowed companies paying the prevailing wage to hire employees directly from the general public. This open shop policy killed the union,” noted Sam.
Sam continued to build his maritime and construction career through the 1970s.
“In 1972, I was captain for Brown & Root operating a tugboat in Galveston Bay. I then moved from being a tugboat captain to a crane operator in Galveston Bay for Brown & Root. In 1973, I went overseas with Brown & Root, working on a lay barge in the Persian Gulf. I worked on the lay barge Le Minor as a crane operator for 2 ½ years. The Le Minor was 600 feet long, 150 feet wide, and it drafted about 30 feet. When it was fully crewed up for laying pipe it had 250 men on it. I then moved over to one of Brown & Root’s big Derek Barges, and I worked on it for 2 ½ years as a deck supervisor. The Derek Barge was 150 feet wide, 700 feet long, and also drafted about thirty feet of water. It had a 500-ton steam Clyde revolving crane on one end and a 2000-ton stiff leg on the other end. My shift was from 12 noon to 12 midnight. I was 27-years-old at the time, but when I stepped on that deck for those twelve hours, I was the hooking bull. I had over 150 men working for me and they were from every nationality you can imagine. To say the least, it was quite a power trip. In the five years I worked overseas, I came home only three times. I earned a significant income; however, it affected my family life, leading me to question its overall value,” reflected Sam.
“I came back to the United States in 1977. With the money I made overseas, I built a set of ship rails and started a shipyard at Oak Island. The shipyard was named G & S Marine, an abbreviation of Glass and Sons Inc. It eventually turned into Double Bayou Marine. I managed the shipyard and offshore services. We serviced the oil industry in Galveston Bay with equipment like a crane barge and material barge. By the late 1980s the oil business collapsed. It was so bad in the oil business at the end of the 80s that there was a saying, ‘The last one out of the oil patch turned the lights off.’”
Sam returned to foundation work in 1987.
“In 1987, I went back to work for Raymond Concrete and Pile, which was a division of Raymond International, who had been in business for 104 years, at that time; they were the biggest foundation contractors in the world. Their assets were substantial; however, the board of directors voted to shut it down and file Chapter 11. They sold all their assets, which held considerable value. In 1990, I went to work for BoMac Construction, Beaumont, TX. I maintained employment with the organization for a period of 25 years, until I retired in 2015. I went into Stab Cat full time with my brothers and in 2017, with the passing of my brother Joe, I acquired his interest,” concluded Sam.
Sam and his brother Joe invented, built and patented the Stab Cat Sheet Pile Threader, which has a provincial patent, and the Stompper Mandrel Sheet, which has a pioneer invention patent. Both inventions are still in use today on construction sites across the United States and around the world.
Note: To be continued next month – The Stab Cat story.