Pt 14 The worlds largest little skyscraper awaits..this is Wichita Falls Texas
The main attraction Felicia wanted me to see was the world’s littlest skyscraper because I love the weird, wonderful and wacky, then off to see the falls and the true story.....
With one more day to explore Texas, I decided to spend it with one of the most incredible people I know: my friend Felicia, who took me on a tour of the fun and fascinating Wichita Falls.
Need to catch up?
Wichita Falls is located along the Wichita River in the Red River Valley. Founded in 1876, the city wasn’t actually named for any falls (more on that later) but for the Wichita (Wee-Chi-Tah) Native Americans, who crossed the river here. Like so many Texas towns, it became a bustling cattle hub with the arrival of the railroad. Then came oil; a rush that transformed the town into a booming center of petroleum and gas fields. By the early 20th century, visionary entrepreneurs like Joseph A. Kemp and his brother-in-law Frank Kell pioneered industries in food processing, retail, flour milling, railroads, cattle, banking, and oil. Their innovations set the stage for a thriving Wichita Falls, a legacy that’s visible even today.
Downtown Wichita Falls showcases this heritage, blending the old and new in a patchwork of mid-sized buildings, innovative restaurants, cozy coffee shops, and even craft breweries. Depot Square Historic District is the perfect spot to stand in the past while glimpsing the present. Close your eyes, and you can almost hear the bustle of travelers disembarking from the trains, eager to stretch their legs after a long, dusty ride. Open them, and you’re surrounded by six blocks of carefully preserved history, with Victorian Romanesque buildings standing proud, their walls holding whispers of days gone by. You might even spot some vintage railcars resting nearby, remnants of the era when railroads ruled the region.
Today, Wichita Falls offers miles of nature trails, conservatories, and parks, along with quirky attractions like the Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame and Castaway Cove Water Park. Felicia mentioned unique spots in town, like the Karat Bar and Bistro, a swanky eatery that was once the very first Zales jewelry store, founded in 1924. The original diamond safe is still there, a fitting nod to the empire it started. And, of course, there’s the famous Casa Manana, home to the iconic red tacos that have been perfected over five generations. Tinted with a special chili pepper powder that gives them their signature color, these red tacos have been a staple for over 72 years and are a must for any true Tex-Mex lover.
But the main attraction Felicia wanted me to see was the world’s littlest skyscraper because I love the weird, wonderful and wacky! Tucked away just off Seventh Street and LaSalle, the unassuming Newby-McMahon Building stands quietly, no flashy signs or tourist trappings, just a modest red-brick structure blending seamlessly with its surroundings. In fact, you would just pass by unless you had done your homework. At just over 40 feet tall, each of its four floors measures a mere 118 square feet. As I stood there, looking up, something about this tiny building felt off.
Built in 1919, the building’s story is one for the ages. Picture a post-war Wichita Falls dripping with oil money and big dreams, where ambitious businessmen vied to outdo each other. Enter J.D. McMahon, a smooth-talking visionary with plans to build the tallest building the town had ever seen. Investors eagerly handed over their money, imagining a skyscraper piercing the Texas sky. What they didn’t notice, or perhaps chose not to, was that the blueprint measurements were in inches, not feet. What McMahon delivered was a glorified closet, a “skyscraper” that barely scraped the sky. By the time the investors realized the con, McMahon had vanished, leaving them with nothing but this diminutive monument to audacity and blinded ambition.
As I stood there, Felicia sharing the tale with me, I tried to imagine the looks on those investors' faces when they realized they’d been had. Yet, in a strange way, I found myself admiring the building. It’s quirky, yes, but it’s also resilient, a physical reminder that not all big dreams require big structures. The littlest skyscraper, a mix of introspection, awe, and a touch of humor, serves as a metaphor for life’s unexpected twists; the grandiose dreams that sometimes become something smaller yet, equally significant. In its quiet, unassuming way, it invites you to reflect on those moments in your life when you were swept up in the excitement of something that didn’t turn out quite as expected. Sometimes the grandest stories are hidden in the littlest of places. Just how I like it.
As we left the skyscraper, Felicia mentioned the falls and off we went. It turns out, the original Wichita Falls, which once cascaded dramatically along the river, was tragically washed away in a flood back in the 1800s. The loss left the town without its namesake, and residents felt something was missing. Not to mention they might have gotten a wee bit fed up with people traveling from a far asking to see the falls that were no longer there.
So, in the 1980s, they built a new manmade waterfall to capture some of that original charm and satisfy the many visitors curious about “the falls.” The new waterfall might not be as grand as the original, but it’s a nod to the spirit and ingenuity thats made this city what it is today.
After a few days filled with Felicia’s warmth and the welcoming spirit of this unique town, it was time to bid farewell. Though we don’t see each other often, the entire family are always in my thoughts and prayers and silently follow along on Facebook.
Before hitting the road, I revisited downtown for one last early morning mini adventure at the 8th Street Coffee House on the first floor of the Chelsea Plaza. I have this habit of immersing myself in local culture, and the best way to do that is often at a local pub or coffee shop. The 8th Street Coffee House fit the bill with its eclectic mix of mismatched couches, tables, and quirky charm filled with locals either working away or catching up with others.
Though I was tempted by the pastries, none were gluten-free a relief, really, as my gluten intolerance helps me avoid indulging often. I ordered a London Fog; Earl Grey steeped with vanilla and steamed milk, and sank into a cozy couch with piles of pillows. As the tea warmed my bones on this cold, overcast day, I reflected on the last few days and the adventures yet to come.
Our 72-hour stay had come to an end, and after a good dump, not us, the coach, we were ready for the next destination. With no schedules or expectations, it was just me, my husband, and our two slightly disgruntled cats on the open road. The only question left: where to next? Well, we actually have a plan, but we have all the time in the world to get there. Next week, we leave the smell of black gold for the red earth and deep-rooted heritage of Oklahoma.
Question for you,
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