Big fires, bigger boats and the biggest honky-tonk in the world were just some of the items from January 1988 that caught my eye. Let's take a look back.

* These days, you'll find apartments near Memorial and Studemont. But in 1988, American Rice Inc. had a grain storage facility there. On the night of Jan. 14, one of the buildings there went up in a five-alarm blaze, one the largest in the city's history.

From the next day's Chronicle:

No injuries were reported in the blaze at 3000 Butler, off Memorial Drive. Flames reached hundreds of feet into the air and were visible for miles around.

The storage building, made almost completely out of wood and built in 1906, was one of several structures in the agricultural complex. ARI moved its milling facilities to Freeport in 1986, but the Houston site has been used recently for grain storage.

The blaze was first reported about 9:20 p.m. and within minutes of the arrival of the first firefighters, a second alarm was called.

Memorial and Washington were closed.

A major concern of fire officials was the nearby, numerous silos that contain rice dust, which is explosive, said Houston Fire Chief Robert Clayton.

Clayton said another major problem was getting enough water on the fire quickly.

"With a fire of this size, you need a large volume of water on it," he said, "especially because of the silos."

The fire was officially extinguished at 11:52 p.m. but continued to smolder for hours.

Clayton described the explosive potential of the silos as more dangerous "than gasoline."

"It is a very, very large fire, one of our largest in a long time, but it's no Woodway Square."

The Woodway Square Apartments in southwest Houston was one of the largest complexes in the city until a fire destroyed it several years ago. That blaze, fed by a wind and wood shingle roofs, involved almost every Houston Fire Department station.

Just after 10 p.m., the Thursday night fire reached its peak intensity as flames reached hundreds of feet in the air. Cinders descended like orange snow over a wide area and caused numerous small fires, all of which were quickly extinguished.

At the Houston Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 519 Studemont, just northwest of the fire scene, volunteers and staff moved 30 animals to spaces away from the fire. HFD workers wetted down trees and grass on the side of the building facing the fire.

Workers watched the fire to determine whether animals would have to be evacuated. Joe LaPalomento, SPCA Humane Services director, said the center had 300-400 animals and full capacity is 600-700 animals.

The fire was so hot that a fire truck had to be moved back and sprayed with water to cool it down. Numerous wooden utility poles also caught fire and smoldered even though some were dozens of yards from the burning building.

A man who lives 200 yards from the intense blaze said he and others in the neighborhood hosed down their homes and yards.

Fire Department crews scoured the neighborhood in pickup trucks, helping residents get water on their homes.

At one point an ember landed on the broken tip of a tree limb, setting it afire about 150 yards from the ARI plant. Bystanders pointed out the flames in the tree to a passing firefighter, who doused it from a pickup truck.

Seymour Sacks, president of Ed Sacks Waste Paper Co., 440 Studemont, adjacent to the southwest corner of the fire site, said, "I don't see any material damage so far (at his company). A little water damage, that's it. We expect to be in operation in the morning."

WAYBACK HOUSTON: Go back in time with us each with through our Throwback Thursday posts.

* Their names were never disclosed, but Houston's own Gorilla Girls still went out on a limb to make a statement for women in the art community.

Patricia C. Johnson profiled the group in a Jan. 22, article:

It's an art jungle out there. And the Gorilla Girls are out to make sure no one makes a monkey of women artists.

The four local women dress up as gorillas and crash art openings in an effort "to bring to prominence the problems of women artists."

The gorilla suits protect their individual identities and simultaneously identify them. They have turned up at art openings, sent letters to prominent gallery owners and passed out bananas to those in the Houston art community. But the public's first opportunity to see the Gorilla Girls' art work will come Saturday, when DiverseWorks offers an installation they have created. A reception is scheduled from 7 to 9 p.m.

The installation, titled "Another Dead Horse," is being held in conjunction with the National Women's Caucus for Art, scheduled for Feb. 9-12 in Houston.

As the GGs describe their work in a press release, it "will be the strongest possible statement describing the jungle in which women find themselves... (including) tiny gorillas chosen as representative of our lack of visibility... trees indicating not only the natural aspect of the jungle but the woman's life-giving and nurturing qualities," and more.

The exhibit, which fills the gallery's second floor, includes sections on Houston, the kitchen, the bedroom, the museum and the "role of the golden boy - the young whitemale artist who receives the majority of the art plums."

By way of background, the Gorilla Girls are part of an organization that was started about three years ago in New York by women artists who called themselves Guerrilla Girls. One of the Guerrillas' first public appearances in New York was during the College Art Association meeting in 1986. Guerrillas held an "Anger Panel" where they played tapes pointing to inequities in the system of exhibitions.

[...]

The Houston GGs were spotted last September during the openings of the galleries on Colquitt Street, where they were distributing photocopies noting the inequities of artist representation: "Moody Gallery, 34 artists, 5 women; Davis/McClain Gallery, 13 artists, 0 women... "

IN 1987: See our city as it was each month in 1987.

* In Fort Worth, Billy Bob Barnett tried to claim his club was the world's biggest honky-tonk, but Gilley's owner Sherwood Cryer was having none of it. Didn't matter anyway since Billy Bob's had just closed.

But that doesn't mean business was booming at the nightspot.

From Bill DiSessa's Jan. 9, Chronicle article:

Cryer, 61, said his 17-year-old club, made famous by the movie "Urban Cowboy," has felt the strains of the oil-patch blues as well as legal woes. But unlike Billy Bob's and other honky-tonks across the country, Gilley's will stay open, he vowed.

"I'm suffering just like the rest of the economy, but at least I'm able to pay my light bills," he said. "Country music is still strong, but C&W fans are busted. There's no construction going on. It's like hens' teeth; it just ain't there."

Surveying his cavernous club, Cryer said, "We couldn't close this because we've lost the keys to lock the doors. We may doze but we never close."

Tourists trickled into the club Friday evening to admire Gilley's paraphernalia, drink a few beers, shoot pool and zap video targets.

"This is our second time here. We like the music, the rodeo and Texas hospitality," said Dale Trandahl, 48, a Willmer, Minn., production supervisor.

"I don't see how they can fill up this place every night. It's so huge," said Bernie Tarnek, 31, a Ford City, Pa., merchant marine. "I find it hard to believe there's a bigger club than this. You can see the sign a half mile away."

Steve Giannecchine, 35, a Stockton, Calif., farmer, marveled:

"It's the biggest thing I've ever seen in a nightclub. California doesn't have anything like this."