I thought of Mary Jo Butler Cooper this morning. I don’t know why? What was she in my life? A friend? A colleague? A storyteller? When I decided to start Austin Ghost Tours it was before the Internet. Or maybe the dawn of the Internet? At that time. If you wanted to know why a ghost was haunting a building, or if a ghost was in a building, one would have to go to the Austin History Center and find out who lived in the building or how or why somebody died.

There is a new Austin History Center that has just opened in 2025. I have not been there. My Austin History Center memories will always be of the limestone building on 9th and Guadalupe right next to a moonlight tower. Parking meant walking up a hill because the old Austin History Center was on top of the hill. I Never parked in the parking lot. I always parked on the street and paid for street parking, which meant I would walk up the side entrance to the History Center, which had very steep steps. An airiness prevailed because it was next to Woolridge Park. The old Austin History Center had houses on all sides and a park on the other. It was a very open feeling kind of place.

When I found out where the Austin History Center was through the phone book I walked through the tall dark wood doors and met almost right away, Mary Jo. The real reason our paths crossed was because I had decided to start a ghost tour business. Mary Jo is a fun side project would give tours of the Rahman block. During those tours, she would tell a ghost Story. It wasn’t a ghost tour, it was a history tour, but there just happened to happen to be a ghost in one of the old buildings on her tour.

Mary Jo was qualified to give tours of the Bremond block because she grew up there. Maybe not actually on the remind block, but back in the day, the Bremond Block wasn’t as isolated as it is today. It was a sprawling suburban community that went all the way up to her house on 7th Street. But my memory is hazy. I know she lived on 600 7th Street in the big old mansion on top of a hill. That was just above the Brahman block. I can’t remember if that’s where she grew up as a child, but I feel like it was. I’m not sure. Any family member reading this will probably know the answer to that.

What started with a ghost story that took place in the Pierre Bremond House became endless conversations. I have always been a curious person. I have always been interested in People’s stories and Mary Jo had so many stories! Such an interesting, complicated, happy, sad and everything – Life.

The Bremond, Robinson, Butler are a few names of some of the wealthier early Austin residents. Many of them intermarried. The ghost story I was told was about one of the children from one of the large families. I’m not sure whose child it was but he was born different. Mary Jo had said he was deaf, but at the time no one could understand what exactly was going on. He wasn’t allowed to play with the other children because they were scared of him. Pierre and his wife took the child in to raise him in their home because they couldn’t have children. The little boy would look out the window where his bedroom was, which is in the lower half of the Pierre Bermond house and watch the children play. When Mary Jo told me that story, she felt horrible sadness because of the way he was treated. I know he spent time at the School for the Deaf.

Her mother had died when she was only 32 years old and had four young children. Mary Jo, who was the oldest, was five years old. Her next brother, Tom, was four years old. Robinson was three years old and then the baby Martin was one year old. The children were sent to live with Mary Robinson Martin, her mother’s sister, because they had no children. The youngest, the one-year-old, was separated from the other children and when I spoke to Mary Jo and when she was in her 80s, she still was deeply upset that the youngest didn’t stay with his sibling.

Her father bought an apartment and would come and visit the children. In particular, Mary Jo remembered her father picking her up from her aunt’s house and walking with her to school at St Mary’s Catholic school.

I don’t remember the details in particular, but Mary Jo ended up raising her family in the same house that she was raised in with her aunt and uncle, 600 W 7th St. It is a large mansion like house built with Butler bricks. Mary Jo was a Butler and one of the family members who founded the Butler Brick Factory.

Mary Jo didn’t tell me much about her husband, except that he died when their three girls were 14, 10 and 7-years. and that he had cancer, and I believe her uncle, who lived in the house after his wife died, also had died of cancer. In my notes from when I spoke with Mary Jo, I remember her saying in 1955, her husband noticed a bump on the side of his neck. It was sore to the touch. When it didn’t go away, he went to the doctor and was informed that he had cancer in his lymph nodes. After several radium treatments in 1957, he died.

I also don’t remember the details, or even if she told me about what it was like raising three girls by herself, but I am one of four girls and during the hormonal years, it was crazy in my house with a lot of turmoil especially if the environment of the country in the 1960’s.

One of Mary Jo’s daughters, the eldest, died when she was 47 years old. Again, painful memories she often avoided speaking of.

Mary Jo outlived her three brothers one, Robinson Paul”Bob” had died in the Great War.

The story I remember the most that Mary Jo told me was more about senses and feelings than it was an actual beginning and end story. The house she grew up in is today around the neighborhood we call the Bremond block. There were no fences. Shoal Creek for swimming on hot days was close by.  Mary Jo remembered getting out of school and coming home and running with all of her cousins and friends all over the neighborhood. The mothers and the elders would sit sewing while the children played. The after school was always a loaf of fresh made bread, homemade churned butter with powdered sugar sprinkled on top of it for all the children. I made that for all four of my children on cold mornings before school and as an afternoon snack during their entire childhood.

With all the information I had from Mary Jo, I did go to 600 W 7th Street and knock on the door one day. It was sometime in the 1990s and the building was a law firm. I boldly said, ”hey, I’m pretty sure this building is haunted. Do you wanna talk about it?” And I received a unanimous, ”Oh yes, definitely”!

Here are two ghost stories that I documented from that visit.

 

Late one night, a paralegal was working. In the next room there came a loud noise and the window, which was opened inward, hit the wall. Confused, she got up and went into the next room. It was not windy outside. What? Opened the window with such force. She closed the window, carefully securing the latch, and returned to her computer. Five minutes later, a loud crash sounded in the next room. Thinking there must be a storm on its way, she went back close the window, gave extra attention to really securing the window latch, noticed that it was not at all windy outside, and returned once more to her desk. At that moment the window crashed open. A cold sweat formed all over her, she saw spots, stood up, went into the next room to see the window standing open. The house was totally quiet. She yelled ”stop it”, and went back to her desk and closed the door, vowing never to work alone at night again.

On November 16th, 1996, after turning all the lights out and standing at the front door fishing for her keys, the office manager heard someone at the top of the steps. Looking up, she listened as slowly the footsteps moved down, slowly but surely in her direction.

Indigenous Abduction West 6th Street – Austin Ghost Tours