There are places in Oklahoma where history sits neatly behind museum glass.

And then there is Fairfax.

I came here looking for the childhood world of Maria Tallchief, America's first great prima ballerina, and her younger sister Marjorie. What I found was a cracked road slowly disappearing beneath grass, an old swing, an extraordinary house being reclaimed by nature—and stories everywhere.

This is the kind of Oklahoma I love to find.

A house on the hill

The Tallchief family home is still standing above Fairfax, although these days nature seems to be winning the argument.

Alex Tall Chief, a member of the Osage Nation, built the substantial ten-room terracotta-brick home during the Osage oil-boom years. Maria and Marjorie spent their early childhood here before the family moved to California in 1933 so the girls could pursue more serious dance training.

I walked the old road around the property, Miss Focus in hand, looking for remnants of that life.

The road itself is being swallowed by vegetation. Windows are boarded. Vines and trees crowd the house. Through one opening I could see the remains of stairs and rooms that once belonged to a very different time.

And then there's the swing.

Still standing.

That's the thing that got me.

Looking at it, I couldn't help imagining Maria and Marjorie out here as little girls. Before New York. Before Paris. Before anyone knew their names.

For a moment I could almost hear the laughter.

Maybe that's why I love old places. Your imagination gets to fill in what time has taken away.

From Fairfax to the world's great stages

Both sisters went on to extraordinary careers.

Maria became one of the most important figures in American ballet. Marjorie became an international star herself and was the first American to hold the prestigious rank of première danseuse étoile at the Paris Opera.

And their father left another remarkable piece of history just down the road.

The Tall Chief Theatre.

Alex built it in 1928 as a movie and vaudeville theater. It seated about 800 people—quite a theater for a little Oklahoma town—and his daughters danced on its stage as children and again when they returned as famous ballerinas.

Here's one of those Oklahoma stories that sounds like somebody embellished it after a couple of whiskeys:

During the era portrayed in Killers of the Flower Moon, the Fairfax police station occupied a small office at the theater. According to Preservation Oklahoma, a shootout outside left one of the men involved in the Osage murders dead in the street...

while children inside were watching a Western.

You couldn't make this stuff up.

Fairfax was at the heart of the Osage Reign of Terror, the terrible chapter of Oklahoma history brought to a much wider audience through David Grann's Killers of the Flower Moon and Martin Scorsese's film. The Tall Chief Theatre was built shortly afterward and has been described locally as a symbol of hope for a community coming out of those dark years.

DID YOU KNOW?

The Tall Chief Theatre wasn't actually built for Maria and Marjorie, as is sometimes repeated. Their father built it as a business—a movie and vaudeville house. The wonderful part of the story is that his two little girls eventually did dance on his stage...and then went on to dance on some of the greatest stages in the world.

Not quite forgotten

The Tallchief home looks abandoned, but thankfully its story isn't.

Preservation efforts began with emergency stabilization in 2021, and there are hopes that the Tallchief childhood home can eventually be restored.

I certainly hope it happens.

The Tall Chief Theatre has its own restoration effort underway, with plans for it eventually to become the Maria and Marjorie Tallchief Performing Arts & Event Center.

Unfortunately, I arrived after hours.

Darn.

I photographed the outside, peeked around as much as a curious photographer legally should, and added it to my I need to come back list.

Tours can be scheduled through the Tall Chief Theatre website.

I stayed around Fairfax for a while that evening.

Walking. Looking. Photographing.

Mostly, though, I listened.There is something about standing where people actually lived their lives that makes history different. It stops being dates and names in a book.

Two little girls once played here.

They left Fairfax and made history.

And more than a century later, an old swing still stands in the Oklahoma wind.

The road may be disappearing, but the story isn't.

Every road has a story. Every photo tells one.

And Oklahoma still has an awful lot of stories waiting for us to pull over and discover.