Mercado's Theatre

DavidZornig on November 17, 2019 at 9:00 am

Courtesy Traces of Texas Facebook page. Description credit Atilana Salas.

“Oh man, Traces of Texas reader Atilana Salas sent in this beautiful photo and included a story so poignant it raised a lump in ‘Ol Traces’ throat.” Says Atilana:

“Today, nothing remains of Tacho Mercado’s ‘salón de baile.’ Only its concrete foundation spread under an open sky serves to recall this dancehall from a time Concepcion, Texas enjoyed livelier days and still livelier nights.

Built in the late 1940s, my grandfather, Anastacio Mercado, initially operated a grocery/meat market/gas station/movie house enterprise from that location. He did well and prospered for a time. This boom of social and economic activity occurred before my living memory… and I’m a senior citizen.

Eventually change came to “La Chona,” a ranching and farming community in a South Texas we would not recognize today. With a shrinking economy and customer base, the movie house regretfully flickered its last feature. The grocery end of the business faded and so his shrinking inventory of sundry goods on the shelves and counters was never restocked. Demand for cuts of meat from Tacho’s well-beaten butcher block was no more. The years of plenty were behind him, but my grandfather reinvented himself and his method of livelihood as well.

The movie screen came down. Rows of wooden theatre benches were rearranged against three of the movie house’s walls and a small elevated recessed stage of sorts took shape at the south wall. Mercado’s Salón de Baile was born. Build it… and they will dance. Conjunto was king and dance they did, and often.

On many weekends my grandmother would laboriously sweep and mop that great smooth cement dance floor. Once dry, she sprinkled generous handfuls of oiled sawdust throughout the space. No sooner was she done that she then fired up the kitchen to prepare burgers, fries, sodas and other fixings for the crowd that evening. My grandparents worked long and hard. Polkas, cumbias, and huapangos dominated the dance night. In the early 1960s even the gyrating Twist found its way onto the floor of “el salón.”

From what I have been told, “los bailes” were lively events. More often than not there was fun, romance, drama, brawls, hookups, elopements, breakups and infidelities. After-wedding-get-togethers were celebrated under its corrugated steel roof. During the daylight hours of the week grandfather operated a beer joint in the former lobby of the movie house.

No air-conditioning. Long slats of wooden vents ran the length of the dancehall’s eastern and western walls for air circulation. The dancing was hot. Ladies, single or otherwise, sat along the walls. The drinking was outside amongst the men, in the night air, standing between the long hoods and heavy chrome bumpers of parked cars and pickups.

Domingo Peña frequented “el salón” in the years before he made a name for himself on Sunday mornings on the fledgling KIII television station. He was a dance promoter back then. I enjoyed the conjunto music. Late in the evening, lying on a soft bed in my grandparents' home only 60 or so paces from the source, the steady beat of poom-boom, poom-boom, poom-boom lulled me to sleep.

The last dance in el salón was hosted in 1975 with a conjunto headed up by a young Eloy de la Garza from Kingsville. He played drums. That was long ago… another time… another age."

Now THAT, dear readers, is how you write a caption for a photo! :) Thank you, Atilana. Wonderful memories!"