Back in the 1960s, ’70s and ’80s, treasure hunters from across Texas and America swelled downtown Lott to a near bursting point. But this tiny Falls County community wasn’t luring people who lusted after silver and gold - it was a quest for leather and denim.
For about one third of the 20th century, Lott was to Western wear what Wisconsin is to cheese, Napa Valley to wine and Georgia to peaches.
Prospectors’ cars, trucks and trailers lined both sides of SH 320 and jammed parking lots. Some flew in private planes, landing at a nearby airstrip. They lined up for blocks and waited hours.
A former county judge, Rolla Will Hailey, transformed almost an entire city block into The Fair, a series of buildings connected and inside filled with millions of dollars in Western wear. Hailey scoured stores that were going out of business and bought their inventory at basement prices. Freight trucks rolled in from boot and jean factories on a regular basis. The judge passed on the cheap prices to his customers.
After graduating from Marlin High School in 1978, Patricia Wideman moved to Lott and worked at The Fair several years. She said jeans cost about 5 bucks, shirts 3.
“We were selling 500 pair of boots on Saturday, and people were lined up out the door, and the cash register would be so full of money we couldn’t close it any more, and the boss would come with a sack and take the money out … and might do that three times a day,” Ms. Wideman said.
To maintain order, staff handed out numbers like waiting in line at the county clerk’s office. People waited their turn outside.
“Sometimes it would be so busy we’d have to lock the door because the fire marshal would only allow so many people in the store,” Ms. Wideman said.
Shortly after Ms. Wideman came to work at The Fair, John Travolta and Debra Winger two-stepped Western wear from a niche market into a fad.
“And when the ‘Urban Cowboy’ came out … everybody wanted to be the urban cowboy and wear those cowboy clothes,” Ms. Wideman said. That’s when we were really busy.”
Since some shoppers’ saddlebags were smaller than their appetite, they would tote their goodies across the street to the Post Office. Postmaster Ned McElwrath, a big man with an even bigger smile, said Christmastime was like a gold rush.
“The day after Thanksgiving, you’d see everybody coming out with big sacks full of hats, boots, shirts, coats, pants, everything,” McElwrath said. “They’d mail out 30 to 50 packages a day. A lot of them going overseas. A lot of them going to celebrities. It was just amazing how many people would shop for Christmas.”
For some, price was more important than size.
“I worked at Sears in Arlington,” said Gloria Bailey, a Falls County native who moved to North Texas as a young bride. “And people would bring jeans from down here for altering.”
Although Judge Hailey died in 1979, the business continued to thrive under other family members until the early 1990s. Folks such as the postmaster and the former employee said it died a slow death. Western wear chain stores sprouted in the big cities, and business declined until Judge Hailey’s grandson closed the doors for good in 1994.
Today, Pam and David Hennig own an antique mall where The Fair once attracted both real and drug store cowboys for more than 30 years. Just inside the screen door, a small monument to the heady days when Western wear put this quiet town on the map greets visitors looking for those great Western wear prices.
“We still get a couple a people a week on average in,” said Ms. Hennig, “It’s been amazing how many people come through looking for The Fair.”
An old bumper sticker, business card, price tags, boot boxes, even several windbreakers with The Fair stenciled on the back are on display, but not for sale. Judge Hailey looks down from inside a wooden frame.
Local folks say the town has yet to recover. According to a newspaper story from 1975, Lott was home to 1,300. A city limit sign today marks the population at 724. Traffic at the Post Office is not the same either. Although Postmaster McElwrath once dreaded the Christmas rush, today looking back, he grows sentimental.
“Now you kind of miss it. That was a big part of the town.”
