Mary was the 5th of 7 children born to Conrad & Elizabeth (Brenneisen) Meyer. She left Iowa at a young age and resided in Chattanooga, Tennessee, for a while, where she had an uncle and cousins living.
Mary wed twice but never had children. Her first marriage, I was always told, was to "Harry Terry", but I recently found her license to wed dated May 15, 1924, allowing Celestino Olvera to marry "Mrs. Robert Terry." So her first marriage was to Robert Terry and second marriage was to Celestino Olvera, from Mexico, probably in May 1924, and the couple lived in Houston, Texas. Celestino was the son of Pablo Olvera and Rosa (Mancayo) Olvera.
Mary owned and operated Olvera's Studio and was an accomplished photographer and the City Directory also showed Celestino to be a photographer.
Celestino died in 1941, in Harris County, Texas. Cause of death shown to be cancer of the mouth. He was laid to rest in Forest Park Cemetery in Houston. Mary continued on with her photography studio.
On October 9, 1962, at age 82, Mary was crossing the street when she was hit by a truck resulting in her death from a crushed chest, fractured skull and a broken neck. Her body was returned to Iowa for burial.
From the Houston Press, dated April 28, 1952:
" In the heart of Little Old Houston's skid row there is a garden that seems almost a little Eden when you come upon it unexpectedly, but this may be because of the contrast. It's on the west side of the 200 block of Austin Street, walled in by a brick garage building, an alley and the rear of the Blue Moon Lounge.
Just beyond the red picket fence, you can see blooming larkspur, gladioluses, hollyhock, roses and cannas. Later on there will be cape jasmine in bloom. In the northeast corner of the garden, near the fence, is a clump of mature banana trees that bear delicious fruit in season. And in the garden itself are fine crops of tomato plants already loaded with fat green fruit, bush and pole beans, onions, carrots, beets, eggplant, dill, okra, parsley, collards and radishes. There's a fine avocado bush, too, and several big fig trees. A pine tree and a sycamore shade the figs, and flowing through the garden is a landscaped drain that looks like a small spring branch." Mary was a photographer and had the studio in her home. She would great you carrying her camera lens in her apron. She had two lenses, but when she came out of the darkroom one day, someone had stolen her other lens...thus she carried the lens in her apron for safe-keeping :)
From the same article " As I said, as soon as you enter, out she pops with the lens and cap for the big accordion-like Century. She pushes you into a chair against a blue screen, and at the same time switches on the florescents. With one motion, she fastens the lens onto the camera, inserts a film holder and draws a portiere that shuts out the street light.
"Turn your head this way," says Mrs. Olvera. "A little more. Don't move, now." She removes the lens cap, puts it back and vanishes into the darkroom with film and lens.
When she comes back out, she asks if you're in a hurry. If you say no, she tells you to come back in an hour!
Passport photos, that's Mrs. Olvera's specialty. Finished photographs, too, not quick-process work. Customers come and go in a steady stream, all day long.
"Why don't you slow down?" I asked her one day. "Can't," she said. "Got my reputation to keep up. I'm fast. Got to stay fast." "When do you work in your garden?" I asked. "Evenings," she said, and popped into the darkroom."
Mary wed twice but never had children. Her first marriage, I was always told, was to "Harry Terry", but I recently found her license to wed dated May 15, 1924, allowing Celestino Olvera to marry "Mrs. Robert Terry." So her first marriage was to Robert Terry and second marriage was to Celestino Olvera, from Mexico, probably in May 1924, and the couple lived in Houston, Texas. Celestino was the son of Pablo Olvera and Rosa (Mancayo) Olvera.
Mary owned and operated Olvera's Studio and was an accomplished photographer and the City Directory also showed Celestino to be a photographer.
Celestino died in 1941, in Harris County, Texas. Cause of death shown to be cancer of the mouth. He was laid to rest in Forest Park Cemetery in Houston. Mary continued on with her photography studio.
On October 9, 1962, at age 82, Mary was crossing the street when she was hit by a truck resulting in her death from a crushed chest, fractured skull and a broken neck. Her body was returned to Iowa for burial.
From the Houston Press, dated April 28, 1952:
" In the heart of Little Old Houston's skid row there is a garden that seems almost a little Eden when you come upon it unexpectedly, but this may be because of the contrast. It's on the west side of the 200 block of Austin Street, walled in by a brick garage building, an alley and the rear of the Blue Moon Lounge.
Just beyond the red picket fence, you can see blooming larkspur, gladioluses, hollyhock, roses and cannas. Later on there will be cape jasmine in bloom. In the northeast corner of the garden, near the fence, is a clump of mature banana trees that bear delicious fruit in season. And in the garden itself are fine crops of tomato plants already loaded with fat green fruit, bush and pole beans, onions, carrots, beets, eggplant, dill, okra, parsley, collards and radishes. There's a fine avocado bush, too, and several big fig trees. A pine tree and a sycamore shade the figs, and flowing through the garden is a landscaped drain that looks like a small spring branch." Mary was a photographer and had the studio in her home. She would great you carrying her camera lens in her apron. She had two lenses, but when she came out of the darkroom one day, someone had stolen her other lens...thus she carried the lens in her apron for safe-keeping :)
From the same article " As I said, as soon as you enter, out she pops with the lens and cap for the big accordion-like Century. She pushes you into a chair against a blue screen, and at the same time switches on the florescents. With one motion, she fastens the lens onto the camera, inserts a film holder and draws a portiere that shuts out the street light.
"Turn your head this way," says Mrs. Olvera. "A little more. Don't move, now." She removes the lens cap, puts it back and vanishes into the darkroom with film and lens.
When she comes back out, she asks if you're in a hurry. If you say no, she tells you to come back in an hour!
Passport photos, that's Mrs. Olvera's specialty. Finished photographs, too, not quick-process work. Customers come and go in a steady stream, all day long.
"Why don't you slow down?" I asked her one day. "Can't," she said. "Got my reputation to keep up. I'm fast. Got to stay fast." "When do you work in your garden?" I asked. "Evenings," she said, and popped into the darkroom."
Mary was the 5th of 7 children born to Conrad & Elizabeth (Brenneisen) Meyer. She left Iowa at a young age and resided in Chattanooga, Tennessee, for a while, where she had an uncle and cousins living.
Mary wed twice but never had children. Her first marriage, I was always told, was to "Harry Terry", but I recently found her license to wed dated May 15, 1924, allowing Celestino Olvera to marry "Mrs. Robert Terry." So her first marriage was to Robert Terry and second marriage was to Celestino Olvera, from Mexico, probably in May 1924, and the couple lived in Houston, Texas. Celestino was the son of Pablo Olvera and Rosa (Mancayo) Olvera.
Mary owned and operated Olvera's Studio and was an accomplished photographer and the City Directory also showed Celestino to be a photographer.
Celestino died in 1941, in Harris County, Texas. Cause of death shown to be cancer of the mouth. He was laid to rest in Forest Park Cemetery in Houston. Mary continued on with her photography studio.
On October 9, 1962, at age 82, Mary was crossing the street when she was hit by a truck resulting in her death from a crushed chest, fractured skull and a broken neck. Her body was returned to Iowa for burial.
From the Houston Press, dated April 28, 1952:
" In the heart of Little Old Houston's skid row there is a garden that seems almost a little Eden when you come upon it unexpectedly, but this may be because of the contrast. It's on the west side of the 200 block of Austin Street, walled in by a brick garage building, an alley and the rear of the Blue Moon Lounge.
Just beyond the red picket fence, you can see blooming larkspur, gladioluses, hollyhock, roses and cannas. Later on there will be cape jasmine in bloom. In the northeast corner of the garden, near the fence, is a clump of mature banana trees that bear delicious fruit in season. And in the garden itself are fine crops of tomato plants already loaded with fat green fruit, bush and pole beans, onions, carrots, beets, eggplant, dill, okra, parsley, collards and radishes. There's a fine avocado bush, too, and several big fig trees. A pine tree and a sycamore shade the figs, and flowing through the garden is a landscaped drain that looks like a small spring branch." Mary was a photographer and had the studio in her home. She would great you carrying her camera lens in her apron. She had two lenses, but when she came out of the darkroom one day, someone had stolen her other lens...thus she carried the lens in her apron for safe-keeping :)
From the same article " As I said, as soon as you enter, out she pops with the lens and cap for the big accordion-like Century. She pushes you into a chair against a blue screen, and at the same time switches on the florescents. With one motion, she fastens the lens onto the camera, inserts a film holder and draws a portiere that shuts out the street light.
"Turn your head this way," says Mrs. Olvera. "A little more. Don't move, now." She removes the lens cap, puts it back and vanishes into the darkroom with film and lens.
When she comes back out, she asks if you're in a hurry. If you say no, she tells you to come back in an hour!
Passport photos, that's Mrs. Olvera's specialty. Finished photographs, too, not quick-process work. Customers come and go in a steady stream, all day long.
"Why don't you slow down?" I asked her one day. "Can't," she said. "Got my reputation to keep up. I'm fast. Got to stay fast." "When do you work in your garden?" I asked. "Evenings," she said, and popped into the darkroom."
Mary wed twice but never had children. Her first marriage, I was always told, was to "Harry Terry", but I recently found her license to wed dated May 15, 1924, allowing Celestino Olvera to marry "Mrs. Robert Terry." So her first marriage was to Robert Terry and second marriage was to Celestino Olvera, from Mexico, probably in May 1924, and the couple lived in Houston, Texas. Celestino was the son of Pablo Olvera and Rosa (Mancayo) Olvera.
Mary owned and operated Olvera's Studio and was an accomplished photographer and the City Directory also showed Celestino to be a photographer.
Celestino died in 1941, in Harris County, Texas. Cause of death shown to be cancer of the mouth. He was laid to rest in Forest Park Cemetery in Houston. Mary continued on with her photography studio.
On October 9, 1962, at age 82, Mary was crossing the street when she was hit by a truck resulting in her death from a crushed chest, fractured skull and a broken neck. Her body was returned to Iowa for burial.
From the Houston Press, dated April 28, 1952:
" In the heart of Little Old Houston's skid row there is a garden that seems almost a little Eden when you come upon it unexpectedly, but this may be because of the contrast. It's on the west side of the 200 block of Austin Street, walled in by a brick garage building, an alley and the rear of the Blue Moon Lounge.
Just beyond the red picket fence, you can see blooming larkspur, gladioluses, hollyhock, roses and cannas. Later on there will be cape jasmine in bloom. In the northeast corner of the garden, near the fence, is a clump of mature banana trees that bear delicious fruit in season. And in the garden itself are fine crops of tomato plants already loaded with fat green fruit, bush and pole beans, onions, carrots, beets, eggplant, dill, okra, parsley, collards and radishes. There's a fine avocado bush, too, and several big fig trees. A pine tree and a sycamore shade the figs, and flowing through the garden is a landscaped drain that looks like a small spring branch." Mary was a photographer and had the studio in her home. She would great you carrying her camera lens in her apron. She had two lenses, but when she came out of the darkroom one day, someone had stolen her other lens...thus she carried the lens in her apron for safe-keeping :)
From the same article " As I said, as soon as you enter, out she pops with the lens and cap for the big accordion-like Century. She pushes you into a chair against a blue screen, and at the same time switches on the florescents. With one motion, she fastens the lens onto the camera, inserts a film holder and draws a portiere that shuts out the street light.
"Turn your head this way," says Mrs. Olvera. "A little more. Don't move, now." She removes the lens cap, puts it back and vanishes into the darkroom with film and lens.
When she comes back out, she asks if you're in a hurry. If you say no, she tells you to come back in an hour!
Passport photos, that's Mrs. Olvera's specialty. Finished photographs, too, not quick-process work. Customers come and go in a steady stream, all day long.
"Why don't you slow down?" I asked her one day. "Can't," she said. "Got my reputation to keep up. I'm fast. Got to stay fast." "When do you work in your garden?" I asked. "Evenings," she said, and popped into the darkroom."
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Mary Meyer Olvera Feb 3 1881 - Oct 9 1962
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