
UT Arlington Special Collections
Amon Carter in his later years, some 30 years after his notable run-in with the Fergusons in College Station.
Probably sooner rather than later, archrivals Texas and Texas A&M will be reacquainted in the newly adjusted Southeastern Conference. That’s supposed to be after 2025 but will almost certainly be nearer in the future.
That will hopefully mean a Thanksgiving tradition begun anew.
In yesteryear, that game was on Thanksgiving night. In later years, it was moved to the day after. It was ended altogether when the Aggies hired lawyers and began divorce proceedings from the Big 12, but more specifically, Texas.
The game has produced some unforgettable moments, though there is one that has mostly been lost to memory.
That would be the Thanksgiving Day game in 1925 when Amon Carter was kicked out of Kyle Field at the request of the governor, Miriam “Ma” Ferguson, and her husband, the disgraced former governor, James “Pa” Ferguson. Both Fergusons had perfected the game of corruption in the Texas capital and were still at it when the Aggies spanked the Longhorns 28-0.
Carter, the publisher of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, oilman, and philanthropist, was never a fan. (That’s as understated as saying the 12th Man likes the Aggies.) However, most recently his paper had uncovered irregularities in how the state Highway Commission had granted contracts, specifically without competitive bidding and at excessively high prices. The series of stories on the scandal got the attention of state Attorney General Dan Moody, who opened an investigation in which the Fergusons refused to cooperate. (Ma was elected the first woman governor in 1924 but was merely a stand-in for Pa — “a ventriloquist behind the scenes,” Carter alleged — who had been banished from public service in the state after his impeachment in 1917.)
Moody’s investigation ultimately was able to reclaim more than $600,000 for the state in the shady bid transaction.
Well, the game took place in the middle of Moody’s investigation. All the parties — Carter and the Fergusons — were there and not far from one another. With A&M scoring again in the game, Carter couldn’t help himself.
“Hurrah for A&M! Hurrah for Dan Moody!”
Carter was promptly greeted by a police officer and escorted from the property.
According to Amon, a biography authored by Jerry Flemmons, Carter told the officer that he was “unaware that I was anywhere near the box occupied by the executive party. I had been pacing up and down the grandstand runway, following the position of the players on the gridiron and rooting for the A&M players. My enthusiasm kept mounting as the Aggies scored their first and then their second touchdowns.”
Nothing about the highway investigation was ever uttered, said Carter, who added that it was by mere “accident” that he had crossed in front of the Fergusons’ box.
Insert one of those laughing emoticons here.
Moreover, Carter asked the officer whether it was illegal for one to root for A&M or Moody? He was told it wasn’t.
“Then what’s all the shooting about anyway?” Carter asked. The officer brought Carter back into the game, but this was far from over.
In the days that followed, the Fergusons took aim at Amon Carter, saying he was drunk at the game (compromising the “public peace”) and a serial violator of Prohibition laws. The Fergusons offered a “reward of $500 for the arrest and conviction of any citizen of the state for violating the liquor laws who is worth, in property or money, as much as $5,000.”
Ferguson furthermore said that there was a “big newspaper publisher in a North Texas city” who dispenses pints of liquor by the dozen and, “under the influence of liquor, displays himself in a public place.” The pint charge referred to whispers that Carter gave out 600 pints of liquor inside 300 imitation Bibles and 300 holed out canes at a convention for oilmen. There was no violation of the law, Carter said, adding that lawmen were onsite.
Ma Ferguson demanded Carter’s resignation as president of the Texas Tech Board of Trustees, his actions at the game the antithesis of a model of good moral character for young people, she said.
With those allegations gaining no real traction, the Fergusons aimed lower, accusing Carter of being a supporter of the Ku Klux Klan and supporting Klan candidates for public office.
In an editorial in the Star-Telegram, Carter called the charges laughable, pointing out that the paper had never supported any candidate with Klan affiliation, including the 1924 Democratic gubernatorial primary election between Ma Ferguson and Felix Robertson, who was supported by the Klan.
The paper, Carter said, didn’t support either.
Rather, the paper and its publisher were strong supporters of Moody, who was as anti-Klan as Carter was anti-Ferguson. As a county prosecutor, Moody had won convictions against Klan defendants.
It was all a smoke screen, Carter said, designed to detract from the highway investigation.
In the end, Carter never apologized for the Kyle Field incident, resign his position on the Texas Tech board — he was, in fact, considering leaving at that time, but stayed on and with overwhelming support to do so in the shadow of the sniping — or ever admit to serving alcohol.
Oh, and Moody defeated Ma in a runoff in the 1928 Democratic primary on his way to succeeding her as governor.
Texas A&M won big on Thanksgiving Day in 1928, and so, too, did Amon Carter.
First in an occasional series of stories — some of them seemingly implausible — about Fort Worth business legends.