Thousands of motorists travel Kuykendahl Road every day—a north-south roadway that stretches from Houston north through Spring, Tomball and The Woodlands. However, few who travel the thoroughfare know the story behind the roadway’s name, one that might come from a darker page in Harris County’s history.
James Wunderlich, former general counsel for Klein ISD for more than 40 years, said he believes the road was named in the late 1800s after a man with the last name Kuykendahl who committed a murder in Houston. James claims the man evaded law enforcement and fled to north Harris County.
“He was going to hang out in the woods near Cypress Creek for a while to escape the posse,” James said. “Well, the posse caught him, and when he was identified, they [dispensed] quick justice. They hung him from the bridge that crossed Cypress Creek.”
James said the bridge quickly earned infamy as the bridge where they hung Kuykendahl, which became known as Kuykendahl’s bridge. Eventually, the road on either side of the bridge became known as Kuykendahl Road.
Fact or fiction?
Although James said he does not know the first name of the Kuykendahl man who is said to have committed the crime, the Kuykendahl family does have a long history in northwest Harris County. According to the Klein, Texas Historical Foundation, Abner, Joseph and Robert Kuykendahl came to Texas from Kentucky in the 1820s with Stephen F. Austin.
Several members of the family served in Sam Houston’s army at the battle of San Jacinto.
“[Austin] was one of the first empresarios, came in [and] got land grants from Mexico,” said Steve Baird, district historian for the foundation. “They were [some] of his original 297 settlers [who] came in with Stephen F. Austin to settle in his land grant area. Their area was up kind of where Rhodes and Kuykendahl [roads] intersect. Their homestead was out in that area.”
“I do think about it occasionally when I cross that bridge. I figure, ‘Well, this is where Mr. Kuykendahl met justice.’”
—James Wunderlich, former Klein ISD general counsel
The great-grandson of Peter Wunderlich—one of the original founding families of Klein that came over from Germany in 1852—James said he was told the story in the 1930s by his father, William Wunderlich, who was born in 1887. The retired attorney said William noted he was around James’ age when the story happened, which meant the murder and hanging would have taken place sometime in the 1890s.
However, a reference was made to repairs to a Kuykendahl bridge over Cypress Creek in an old edition of The Galveston Daily News from Nov. 14, 1879, according to information obtained from The Portal to Texas History website. The reference would mean the incident would have had to happen earlier than Wunderlich suggests.
The Harris County Archives Office could not provide information to confirm or deny the story, but officials did find a reference to Kuykendahl Road in Commissioners Court notes from as far back as 1898. Harris County sheriff’s office officials said they do not keep records as far back as the 1890s.
Cruel and usual punishment
Hanging in the late 1800s was not an uncommon punishment for criminals, especially those who fled from law enforcement, Baird said.
“The law was pretty much the judge for the most part,” Baird said. “Especially if you were a convict and you escaped and were on the run, they’re definitely not going to haul you back down and give you another jury or put you in jail. ‘You escaped, you just proved your guilt again and we’re going to hang you at that point.’”
He said criminals could be hung for offenses far less serious than murder. Stealing a horse or cattle was punishable by hanging. With the proliferation of barbed wire for fences in the 1800s, Baird said people could even be hung if they were caught cutting someone’s fence line during a cattle run.
“From my understanding, the landowner could pretty much draw up his own posse and come after you,” he said.
Although the Kuykendahl family has a history in the area and hanging was a common punishment during the time, James said the story of Kuykendahl’s bridge is not a common legend or a story he has heard from anyone else. Regardless of the story’s truth, his father’s story is one that has stuck with James to this day.
“I do think about it occasionally when I cross that bridge,” he said. “I figure, ‘Well, this is where Mr. Kuykendahl met justice.’”