Yes, the Park Cities are lovely enclaves of Dallas with their fair share of fine dining and upscale shopping. Nobody would deny their better qualities, but “eccentric” isn’t the first word one would use to describe the posh neighborhoods. That is, if you haven’t heard the story (one of our 40 greatest) of Cosette Faust Newton and the S.S. Miramar.
On June 13, the Park Cities Historic and Preservation Society met at the home of Cynthia and Brice Beaird to attend a talk by Texas Christian University professor Cynthia Shearer. Shearer’s topic of discussion was Dr. Cosette Faust Newton, a flamboyant Highland Park resident who, notoriously to anyone who lived there from the 1940s to the 1960s, built a lavish three-decker ship in her backyard at 4005 Miramar Avenue. Intended to be a glamorous locale in which to host extravagant parties and debutante events, the S.S. Miramar proved to be the catalyst for a long battle between Ms. Newton and the town of Highland Park.
The building of the ship was a metaphor, Shearer explained to the crowd: a grand vessel of which Cosette could be the captain. Once the dean of women at Southern Methodist University, where she famously gave girls military drills and advocated for birth control, she was never one to shy away from attention, both good and bad. At her first debutante ball hosted at the S.S. Miramar, Newton gave away white kittens as favors—photos from the evening show the young debutantes holding silk pillows with the kittens perched on top. Some look thrilled and pet the kittens’ heads adoringly; others look nervous, staring down at their unwanted new pets with some disdain.
Sometimes, though, her eccentricities proved nearly fatal, such as when she kept an African American gardener locked in her attic for allegedly stealing one of her “invaluable” jade rings (a ring that Shearer explained actually cost about $1.50). This was perhaps her worst scandal, a disaster that ruined her reputation and made her quite the target. After years of 4005 Miramar being vandalized, Cosette installed “penitentiary-grade iron bars, concertina wire, and German shepherd guard dogs” to protect her home, Shearer writes in Axis, the PCHPS magazine. The Miramar house existed in a shockingly derelict state while Cosette and her husband were living in Oak Lawn, having purchased another apartment in 1943. From the broken glass sticking out of cement to the crudely crafted booby traps to thwart teenage vandals, “if you lived in Highland Park, it was something out of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone,” Shearer said to crowd laughs.
On April 18, 1956, the S.S. Miramar sank at last, razed to the ground in a pile of demolished luxury. True to Cosette’s grandiose style, she demanded that a tombstone be created for it, which read: “S. S. Miramar (Mock Yacht)/ Born Dec. 9, 1941/ Died April 18, 1956. Slowly killed by envy, jealousy, some cruel neighbors, delinquent vandals and parents, and officials of Highland Park.” Thanks to Cynthia Shearer’s captivating storytelling, members of the Park Cities Historic and Preservation Society were able to both learn about and sometimes even recall memories of the colorful Dr. Cosette.
