Unveiling the Enigma Overlooking Olmos Dam

By Carole Miller

Who among us hasn't taken a moment to gaze at the house that looks like a colosseum perched on a cliff, casting its watchful eye over the Olmos Dam? You know the one. You can't miss those Roman aqueduct-style arches etched into the hillside. We've all wondered about it while cruising north on Highway 281 from downtown. Who's the lucky dweller? Who's the mastermind behind it? And, most curiously, what's hiding behind those walls?

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From untamed hill to majestic home: The “Big Idea”

The house you see now began as the backyard of San Antonio power couple, Joci and Joe Straus. Joe Straus, the vibrant 96-year-old founder of Retama Park, made his mark on the horse racing scene when his horse No Le Hace placed second in the 1972 Kentucky Derby. And Jocelyn “Joci” Straus, who sadly passed away in October 2022, was well-known for her tireless philanthropy leading the Las Casas Foundation and spearheading the restoration of the Majestic and Empire Theaters.

Once upon a time – a long, long time ago, they lived in the house next door at the tippy tip top of the hill in Alamo Heights and they were very happy. Joci was the green thumb queen, and absolutely loved gardening. But when her trusty gardener, upon whom she had come to depend, hung up his gloves, the workload became too much.

One day, Joe casually proposed the idea of moving to Joci. She looked like she might give him a playful punch, but then she sighed, “If you can find a view as pretty as this one, then maybe I'd consider moving.” Joe grinned and pointed to the enormous cliff below, saying, “Well, look no further!”

The then-undeveloped plot (which wasn’t really an address at the time) was just an extension of their big backyard. Joe marched over to his neighbor, construction magnate H.B. “Pat” Zachry, with a bright idea. Straus wanted to borrow his alley to access and develop the land. Armed with an engineer-drawn route, Joe showed it to Mr. Zachry, who kindly declined.

Ever persistent, Joe wasn’t about to back down. He gave the engineer another call to restrategize and asked, “Hey, any chance we can use our own property to get in?” The catch was that a fire truck had to be able to access the home. If they widened the driveway, however, it could work as a “flag lot” where the road access is along a long, narrow “flagpole,” and the lot itself is rectangular.

Joe dialed Mr. Zachry back, bursting with excitement, “Necessity is the mother of invention. We found a way to make it work!”

Zachry chuckled and admitted, “I knew you had it in you, but I wanted you to figure it out on your own.”

Choosing the Hard Way: Caterpillars on the Edge

The architectural mastermind was none other than Tom Pressly. This monumental project was his magnum opus, grand finale, his last big hoorah before riding off into the retirement sunset. When construction began in 1983, Pressly tackled challenges left and right, but the biggest obstacle by far was excavating the site. It took over a year to carve it out, and suffice to say, few were thrilled at the prospect of climbing into a Caterpillar excavator perched on the edge of a cliff.

Joe Straus fondly recalled an amusing episode from the house construction period. During the intricate process of building the two terraces of the cliffside abode, the Caterpillar operator, taking in the rugged limestone terrain, quipped, “I’m from Poteet, and this would be a whole lot simpler back there, where the ground is sandy, not limestone.”

In response, Joe, with a hint of determination and a touch of humor, retorted, “I want to do it the hard way.”

Basements with a Twist and Terraces of Tranquility

In terms of construction, the Zachry Corporation, led by Pat’s son Bartell, spearheaded the engineering of the steel frame. They added stucco and metal lathe around the beams before applying a plaster finish. The house itself is seamlessly integrated into the limestone rock, sitting atop a floating slab supported by sturdy piers.

This entire project spanned two years and required an investment around a whopping $2.5 million. Negotiating the guidelines of the City of Alamo Heights, the Straus home was officially designated a one-story residence with two “basement” levels.

When the arches were beginning to take form, someone jokingly remarked to Joe at a party: “You should see that restaurant, it’s going to be really fancy.”

The unique Mediterranean design choice is accentuated by the presence of two verdant terraces adorned with lush greenery and tranquil water features. Joci’s appreciation for arches shines through. The captivating arches inspired by Mission San Jose and the inviting water features are the product of her inspired design of many elements of her home.

The greenery-covered driveway, designed for fire truck access, winds gracefully down and back up the hill to the front entrance. A magnificent piece of limestone serves as the threshold, leading to a welcoming sight—a statue of St. Francis acquired by the Straus family in Mexico.

As you step inside, an upstairs “bridge” greets you, offering a unique vantage point overlooking the grandeur below. The great room with its 25-foot ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows is a sight to behold. From here, the dam, panoramic cityscapes, and downtown views form an awe-inspiring backdrop. The two-story loft space encompasses the living room and kitchen areas, and a wrap-around patio is adorned with an acequia water fountain, nestled within the lush hillside landscape. Lovingly dubbed the “room with a view,” this space was Joe’s personal favorite.

Flanked by terraces that Joci lovingly filled with planters and shrubbery to create an outdoor garden feel, the two guest rooms on the bottom level include access to terraces with multi-level outdoor waterfalls surrounding the home. The 5790-square-foot home also boasts two elevators, a modern, open floor plan and the bathrooms and closets, the stuff of dreams, add a touch of lavishness that surpasses expectations.

By 1985, the Straus family had finally settled into their new abode where they remained for the next 26 years until old age rendered it too difficult to get up and down the stairs. “At our age,” they explained, “we just wanted something a little simpler.”