By John Hallowell   Fri, Nov 26, 2010

Bucket List and Commentary

by John Hallowell

Compiling a "bucket list" of must-see-or-do attractions for the Texas Hill Country is a tricky assignment, since there are so many great things to see and do. Some of the Hill Country's attractions are more famous than others, and you've probably heard of quite a few of the attractions on my list. There are usually good reasons for their fame, and I don't want you to miss places like Fredericksburg, Enchanted Rock, Luckenbach, Garner State Park or Schlitterbahn; I'm just assuming that you already know about them. Also, while Austin and San Antonio are at the edge of our Hill Country map, they both have too many "big city" attractions to list here. I do think everyone should visit the state capitol, the Bob Bullock history museum and Mount Bonnell in Austin. I also would hate to think that anyone hadn't visited the missions (especially the Alamo), the Riverwalk, the Hemisfair Tower, La Villita, the Institute of Texan Cultures and Sea World in San Antonio; those are all great places to visit.

It doesn't seem fair to mention places that are not open to the public, but if you ever have a chance to visit Falkenstein Castle in Burnet County (available for weddings and some other special occasions), Willie Nelson's little western town of Luck, Texas, the amazing 700 Springs Ranch (just south of Junction), or the beautiful Inks Ranch in southern Llano County (available for hunting, filming and occasional Jeep Jamborees), you should jump at it.

My list will be mainly less-famous places that I know from personal experience. You've probably heard of most and been to some. You'll also probably have your own special places that I have neglected to mention (if so, PLEASE tell us about them). But here, in no particular order, are my favorite places and events around the Hill Country. You can learn more about most of them simply by Googling their names.

I'm going to start with Enchanted Springs Ranch, just west of Boerne; I don't think it's as famous as it should be, but several movies have been filmed in its "old west" village, and there always seems to be something going on there (check the schedule on their website). While you're in the Boerne area, be sure to check out the Cibolo Nature Center (and if you're closer to Kerrville, be sure to visit the Riverside Nature Center). Next on my list would be the Wimberley Zip Line, which combines the thrill of (almost) flying with a spectacular view of the beautiful valley (and there's another great zip line -- Cypress Valley Canopy Tours, in Spicewood).

For sheer natural beauty, I can't think of a better place to visit than the Westcave Preserve, in southwestern Travis County, although some might prefer Hamilton Pool or Krause Springs (to be mentioned again on my list of "best swimming holes"). Westcave also has a remarkable interpretive center to enhance its appeal. Lost Maples State Natural Area is famous for its fall foliage, but not everyone realizes that it has some of the best hiking trails and most scenic year-round views anywhere in the Hill Country. If you are interested in birding, I'd recommend the Balcones Canyonlands Wildlife Preserve near Austin (and the adjoining Peaceful Springs Nature Preserve), the South Llano River State Park in Kimble County or the Hill Country Adventures Nature Center near Garner State Park. Another fantastic place that doesn't seem to be very well-known is the Colorado Bend State Park in eastern San Saba County. If you don't feel like doing all that hiking, you might prefer the comfort of the Vanishing Texas River Cruise, from northern Lake Buchanan up the Colorado River just south of the bend. That cruise gives you a double adventure: a great boat ride and a unique look at one of the most unspoiled parts of the Texas Hill Country. Also, if you're here during the winter, be sure to visit the famous eagles' nest just off Highway 29 in eastern Llano County. During the summer, you can see millions of bats at the James River or Frio Bat Caves.

History is one of the Hill Country's great attractions, and there are a number of wonderful sites and museums. I think I'd start with the Spanish Presidio in Menard, then (to stay in historical order) go to the Sophienburg in New Braunfels, Fort McKavett, the Fort Croghan museum in Burnet, the Pioneer Museum in Fredericksburg, then the Sauer-Beckmann living history farmstead at the LBJ Ranch in Stonewall. I hear that they're building a new Texas Ranger museum in Fredericksburg, and I expect to add that to my list soon. I think everyone should check out the Treue der Union monument in Comfort and the Johnnie Armstead African American History Museum in San Marcos (the Hill Country has had its rough patches); for more recent history, LBJ's boyhood home and visitors center in
Johnson City, the railroad museum in the old depot at New Braunfels, the Museum of the Pacific War in Fredericksburg and the Commemorative Air Force museums at Burnet and San Marcos are all Hill Country treasures, as is the amazing collection of 1929-1959 cars at Dick's Classic Garage in San Marcos (and don't miss the remarkable Lone Star Motorcycle Museum just north of Utopia!). In addition to these listed museums, almost every town has a museum of its own, with local history richly illustrated and documented. I hear that the city of Junction is in the process of a major upgrade, with treasures from the life of its most famous citizen, former governor Coke Stephenson.

The historic buildings are a big attraction in every town, as well. Nearly all Hill Country towns were built between 1850 and 1910, and there's hardly a downtown without a collection of century-old structures. Many of the towns are county seats, and the courthouse square is a consistent feature. Old jails add their dubious charm to many small Hill Country towns. I'd take a map and make sure I at least drove through every town on it (and make Castroville one of the first stops!)

There are hundreds of great places to eat or spend a night, and there's no way I could ever list them all. I'm going to mention just a few that have impressed me. Most people think of barbecue as the national food of Texas, and the Hill Country (especially Llano) has no shortage of good BBQ joints. I would single out Cooper's in Llano (as long as you don't expect white tablecloths and linen napkins) and Driftwood's Salt Lick, as much for the experience as for the excellent BBQ. Other remarkable dining experiences can be had at Mac and Ernie's (in Tarpley), the Welfare Cafe (near Boerne), the Laurel Tree in Utopia (but check their hours and make reservations) and the Gristmill in Gruene. Also, if you're anywhere near Menard, you owe it to yourself to stop at the Side Oats Cafe, where you'll find a uniquely healthy and delicious meal at a very reasonable price.

To stay overnight near Fredericksburg, I would recommend the luxuriously-appointed log cabins of Tin Star Ranch, the charming Swiss village of Baron's Creekside or the amazing adobe-style village at Trois Estate. Any of those three is worth visiting just to "window shop." Other wonderful Hill Country lodgings are: The Verandas Guest House, in Burnet; Kuebler-Waldrip Haus, near New Braunfels; Crystal River Inn, in the historic district of San Marcos; the Fortress (at Utopia River Retreat) in Utopia; the historic Dabbs Hotel in Llano; Koch Hotel in D'Hanis; Soap's Place in San Saba and any of several charming B&B's in Mason (one of my favorite towns).

I understand that those recommendations are just starting to scratch the surface. Please tell me about the others who deserve to be on this list!

For activities, the Hill Country has some great swimming holes and rivers for tubing or kayaking. For swimming, I especially recommend Krause Springs (near Spicewood), Devil's Waterhole (at Inks Lake State Park), Blue Hole (in Wimberley), and one of several crossings of the Guadalupe River on Highway 39, west of Kerrville. For tubing, the Frio River (at Concan) and the Guadalupe (near New Braunfels) are probably the best; for kayaking, I'd recommend the Llano River (all the way from Junction to Kingsland) or the Nueces (near Camp Wood). There are many good places to hike, but my favorites are Colorado Bend, Enchanted Rock and Lost Maples. I like driving my Honda Accord on the hilly, winding roads around Leakey; I can't imagine how much more fun it would be on a motorcycle. Camping (judging by their popularity) must be best at Garner or Inks Lake State Parks.

If you're feeling adventurous, you should get a ride in a glider (Fault Line Flyers, in Briggs) or a hot air balloon (Austin Aeronauts, and others). You can even learn hang-gliding and paragliding (www.flytexas.com) at Packsaddle Mountain in Kingsland, or skydiving (www.skydivesanmarcos.com) in San Marcos!

I'm not a golfer, a hunter or a fisherman, but I've seen some beautiful courses at Tapatio Springs, Concan, Kerrville and Horseshoe Bay. Llano County is reputed to be the best hunting area in Texas, and Lake Buchanan is probably the best place to fish (or go sailing, water-skiing, etc.). Lake LBJ is a beautiful constant-level lake, and probably the best place for lake-front living.

Live music is becoming another of the Hill Country's main attractions. I'd recommend Gruene Hall, Luckenbach, Fuel Coffee House in Llano, the House Pasture Restaurant in Concan, the Rockbox in Fredericksburg, the Cheatham Street Warehouse in San Marcos, the Kerrville Folk Festival, the Country Opry (in Mason and Llano) or all of the above.

Art is another attraction, and there are some amazing centers for the arts all around the Hill Country. Kerrville has a great Museum of Western Art, as well as the wonderful Kerrville Arts and Cultural Center (next to the Hill Country Museum in Charles Schreiner's mansion) in Kerrville's often-overlooked historic district. Boerne has the Majestic Arts Foundation, Blanco has the Uptown Blanco Ingram has a great arts center, etc. etc.

And there's a whole lot more, some of which I have not yet discovered. I'm going to add more, but in the meantime, please tell me YOUR favorite places. And have a great time exploring the Texas Hill Country!

By John Hallowell   Wed, Dec 01, 2010

Retirees boost Hill Country economy

       The beautiful hills which define the Texas Hill Country and attract so many tourists and retirees today were for many years a major obstacle to the region's growth and prosperity. For years after east and south Texas were settled, the Hill Country remained a safe haven for fierce Comanches, and for eight decades after the first settlers arrived in 1846, most of the Hill Country was isolated by the rugged terrain. Also, the thin, rocky soil and scarcity of level fields made farming difficult throughout most of the Hill Country; those who stayed and succeeded did so, for the most part, by long hours of hard work. Even among the most diligent, survival was more common than prosperity.

       While explorers and travelers have always marveled at the region's natural beauty, the first real "tourists" arrived shortly after the railroads finally penetrated the geological obstacle course in the late 1800s. Lampasas attracted so many visitors to its "healthful springs" in the 1880s that it became known far and wide as "the Saratoga of the South." Kingsland, located in a beautiful valley at the confluence of the Llano and the Colorado Rivers, became a tourist destination with camps and hotels in the 1890s. Landa Park in New Braunfels became a tourist destination soon after the turn of the century; Kerrville became a center of dude ranches and youth camps beginning in the early 1920s, and two attractions in San Marcos (Aquarena Springs and Wonder World) attracted thousands of tourists as the automobile began to dominate American life.

         But it was after World War II, as the American economy boomed and better highways eased access to the formerly inhospitable region, that tourism became more important to the Hill Country's economy. For one thing, widespread droughts, modern farming methods and youth migration to the cities caused the population to shrink dramatically outside the county seats all across the Hill Country. At the same time,  as workers reached retirement age in the colder and higher-priced northern states, more and more of them began to consider a move to the southern states, where temperatures were warmer and the cost of living lower. During the late '30s to the early '50s, a series of dams created a chain of "Highland Lakes" along the Colorado River, providing a natural area for leisure and tourism. Another dam, completed on the Guadalupe River in 1964, created Canyon Lake just north of San Antonio. Retirees from Texas cities began to consider the Texas Hill Country as the perfect place to spend their golden years.

       Ten years ago, Frederick A. Day, of Southwest Texas State University, and Jon M. Bartlett, of the U.S. Bureau of the Census, used data from the previous three census years to explore the economic impact of retirees in the Texas Hill Country. Because the census notes only those who have moved within the previous five years, the second halves of the '70s, '80s and '90s were used in the study.

       The first fact that jumps out from the study is that 18 of the 21 "non-metropolitan" counties in the Texas Hill Country (the fast-growing counties along I-35 were excluded from the study) were designated as retirement destinations (Texas was ranked #4 among the 50 states for over-60 in-migration during the 1980s; 78 of its 254 counties are considered retirement destinations), making the Hill Country one of the nation's top retirement spots. Contributing factors include warm weather, attractive landscapes, recreational opportunities, proximity to large cities and relatively low cost of living (although property values have risen with the increasing popularity of the Hill Country).

       The effect was greatest in counties with relatively easy access to big-city amenities (but not too close to the cities); the six counties with the highest rates of elderly in-migration were: Bandera, Blanco, Burnet, Gillespie, Kerr and Llano, all basically around an hour's drive of Austin or San Antonio. The other common factor was proximity to water; Llano County has the second-highest median age in the whole country, but most of its incoming retirees have settled in lakefront communities in the southeast corner, within relatively easy commuting distance to Austin. Gillespie and Kerr Counties are a little farther from the cities, but cultural amenities and healthcare are available in their county seats: Fredericksburg and Kerrville.

       The purpose of the study was to determine what effect, if any, retirees had on the local economy; the answers were very interesting. First of all, the incomes of migrant retirees are approximately 80 percent higher than the average older household in the U.S. Secondly, the vast majority (90 percent, in some areas) of migrant retirees have a new home built for their retirement, rather than buying an existing home. Those two factors account for a boom in the construction industry in counties that have a high rate of retiree in-migration. Per capita income growth in retirement destinations outpaced other rural counties at a significant rate.

       Other industries showing substantial gains in retirement communities were banking, investments and retail services. The study estimated that one job was created for every two retirement households, but that many of the jobs created were low-paying service-sector jobs, and that job creation did not translate into lower unemployment rates, since low-skilled workers would often follow the retirees in search of a job. One significant exception to that rule was the healthcare sector; the study found that retirement destinations have more and better-equipped healthcare facilities than their "average" counterparts. This chicken-and-egg relationship provides better-paying jobs and, in turn, attracts more retirees.

       The amenities that come with an increased population of prosperous retirees have helped the region add to its tourism appeal, and some speak of retirement as America's "Newest Growth Industry." It is remarkable that the circumstances and conditions which decimated the Texas Hill Country's economy in the mid-20th century have now put the region in the perfect position to benefit from this nationwide trend. Retirees do not compete for jobs, do not pollute and do not overload local school systems. At the same time, they bring all manner of talents and experience, time to volunteer in civic activities, and ready cash to spend with local businesses. Many of the new tourist attractions and unique businesses in the Texas Hill Country are the result of newcomers, successful  in their big-city business careers, pursuing an imaginative dream in the beauty of the Texas Hill Country.

       The irony of history reminds me of the old-timer in West Virginia who told his newly-arrived neighbor, "You call this Paradise Mountain; we always called it Poverty Hill." While some longtime residents of the Texas Hill Country must wonder at the flood of retirees, it is hard to argue with the benefits that they bring with them. Kerrville and Horseshoe Bay in particular are examples of retirement-based economies which benefit all the surrounding area, and it is hard to imagine that such cultural, healthcare and retail centers as Kerrville and Marble Falls would exist without the influence of those who chose the Texas Hill Country as their retirement destination. If you are a newcomer who has recently retired, we all say, "Welcome to the Texas Hill Country! Together, we can make it even better!"

By John Hallowell   Wed, Feb 16, 2011

A Treasurehouse of History

       Fort McKavett was established in March of 1852 by five companies of the U.S. 8th Infantry to protect West Texas settlers and serve as a rest stop for California-bound travelers in the years following the 1849 gold rush. The fort originally consisted of five infantrymen's barracks, kitchens used temporarily as officers quarters, a hospital, and a quartermaster's storehouse, all built of local logs and limestone around a square parade ground. Each company was responsible for constructing its own quarters, and those of its officers.

       The post was improved substantially through the mid-1850s. Lumber for floors or doors was shipped from Fredericksburg, as was glass for windows. New construction included a two-story quarters for the commanding officer and a one-story barracks for other officers, an adjutant's office, a guardhouse, a new bakery and kitchens, as well as quarters for the fort's laundresses. A civilian "parasite" settlement of gambling dens, stores, and saloons grew up about a mile north of the post. It was known as "Scabtown," and became notorious for violence and vice.

       The activity came to an end in 1859, when Fort McKavett was abandoned; there had been a decline in Indian trouble and most of the California traffic was taking a more southerly route. With the military gone, most of the civilians scattered, and the fort was allowed to deteriorate for almost a decade.

       During the Civil War, the emboldened Comanches made life very dangerous for settlers on the western frontier, and when peace had been restored between North and South, the U.S. Army reoccupied Fort McKavett.

       It was the spring of 1868 when elements of the U.S. Army's 4th Cavalry and 35th Infantry arrived at Fort McKavett. The post was described as "one mass of ruins" with only one habitable house, the former commanding officer's quarters. The troops lived in tents while repair and new construction were undertaken.

       The next year took on a historic significance with the arrival of the 41st Infantry and its commanding officer, Colonel Ranald Mackenzie. The 41st was one of only six regiments—four of infantry, two of cavalry—having black enlisted personnel and white officers. These so-called "Buffalo Soldiers" and their commanding officer would go on to become some of the foremost Indian fighters of the post-Civil War army.

       According to the website, www.texasbeyondhistory.net, the 41st Infantry was a well-drilled regiment when it arrived at Fort McKavett, but was new to frontier warfare. Army reorganization resulted in consolidation of the 41st and the 38th—also a black regiment with white officers, but one with substantial western service—to form the new 24th Infantry. Mackenzie imported five civilian carpenters and six stonemasons who, together with the soldiers of the 24th , began substantial improvement and expansion of the post, soon to be considered one of the best in Texas.

       Sergeant Emmanuel Stance, of the 9th Cavalry, was awarded the Medal of Honor for his courageous actions in two 1870 battles. A post schoolhouse was constructed in 1874 to provide an education for enlisted men, particularly those who had been slaves. Many of the men learned to read and write in classes, often taught by the post chaplain, held at the end of the work day at Fort McKavett.

              The "parasite" community regrouped as the fort established itself as a major supply depot providing food and provisions for most of the military campaigns, scientific and mapping explorations and other forts in West Texas. Racism added to the trials of the "Buffalo Soldiers," and in one notorious incident, three soldiers were murdered by some of the settlers they were protecting (reportedly because one had written a love letter to a white girl). Nevertheless, they did their jobs well (for the most part), and their accomplishments earned the respect of friends and foes.

       By 1880, the Comanche threat had ended, and Fort McKavett no longer had a military mission. The post was ordered abandoned in 1882, but the large quantity of supplies stored there required extension of the order for a year. The last garrison, a company of the 16th Infantry, was transferred to Fort McIntosh on the Rio Grande.

       Many of the civilians from "Scabtown" moved into the fort when the army left, and by the mid-1890s, Fort McKavett was a thriving commercial center with three churches, two hotels, a broom and mattress factory, a weekly newspaper, and eighty residents.  The population peaked at about 150 in the late 1920s, but there were still people living in the old buildings of the abandoned fort in 1968, when Fort McKavett was designated a state historic site.

        The site includes more than two dozen structures, many of which are preserved or restored, and is the planned home of the department's Buffalo Soldiers Program archives. The 80th Texas Legislature transferred operational control of this site from Texas Parks & Wildlife Department (TPWD) to the Texas Historical Commission effective January 1, 2008.

By John Hallowell   Mon, Feb 07, 2011

       By the time that Texas gained its independence, the Hill Country had become almost a fortress for the Comanche invaders from the north. The rugged terrain and fierce defenders kept most pioneers out of the Hill Country for a few years, and (despite several Spanish attempts to establish missions a century earlier) only a few adventurers had ever seen the beauty of the wild Texas hills before Texas became a state in 1845. (And some of them didn't live to tell about it!)

       But pressure began to build as more immigrants arrived in Texas. San Antonio was already a thriving city on the southeast corner of the Hill Country, and more settlements began to form along the eastern and southern borders of the Hill Country. One small village, called Waterloo, was renamed for Stephen F. Austin and chosen as the  republic's new capital in 1839.

       Soon there were fairly well-defined roads from Austin south to San Antonio, and north to the Red River. In 1844, a French empresario named Henri Castro brought the first of more than a thousand Alsatian immigrants to settle the new town of Castroville, a few miles west of San Antonio. Over the next three years he founded four new towns along the southern edge of the Hill Country.

       The first real settlers to venture into the Texas Hill Country were the German immigrants of the Adelsverein, or "Society for the Protection of German Immigrants in Texas," which had purchased three million acres of wilderness between the Llano and San Saba Rivers.  They began to arrive in Texas in the winter of 1844, under the leadership of Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels, and founded a town near Las Fontanas (now the Comal Springs), northwest of San Antonio, in 1845. A group of those German settlers (about 120) pushed on into the heart of the Hill Country under the leadership of John O. Meusebach in the spring of 1846, and founded Fredericksburg in the beautiful Pedernales Valley. It was a 16-day trip from New Braunfels, but it was only half-way to their "Promised Land" between the two rivers. Most never made it that far.

       That same year, a group of ten shingle-cutters led by Joshua Brown established a camp (later to become Kerrville) on the Guadalupe River, and an offshoot group of Mormon pioneers (led by Lyman Wight) settled just to the east of Fredericksburg in 1847 (they later migrated to Burnet County, then Bandera). Within the next two years the U.S. Army had established a chain of forts extending through the Hill Country and protecting small settlements at each location (Fort Inge, near Uvalde; Fort Martin Scott, near Fredericksburg; and Fort Croghan, near Burnet). The German immigrants fanned out from Fredericksburg and New Braunfels, establishing settlements along the Llano, Pedernales and Guadalupe Rivers. And a wave of "Anglo" settlers from the eastern states began to find its way into the rugged hills. Many were Scotch-Irish "Highlanders" from the Appalachians and Ozarks; many others were farmers from the deep South. A new string of forts was established as the frontier moved westward (Camp Wood, Camp Verde, Fort Terrett, Fort Mason, Fort McKavett). Sixteen Polish families came to work at shingle camps in Bandera in 1855; a group of new counties was established in 1856. Much of the Hill Country was at least partially settled by 1860.

       Then came the Civil War, and the emboldened Comanches struck back while most of the pioneer men were fighting far to the east. Many settlers died or were frightened from their homes, and the population decreased during most of the decade. It was the early 1870s before growth truly resumed, but even then Comanches, outlaws and intermittent range wars made the Texas Hill Country a difficult and dangerous place to live.

       Civilization began to prevail across most of the Texas Hill Country in the 1880s. Life was still hard for the farming and ranching families who tamed the wild country, but with threats of Indians and outlaws mostly gone, and with the arrival of barbed-wire and railroads, the future looked very bright. Fredericksburg was an established city by then. Imaginative entrepreneurs like Charles Schreiner of Kerrville and E.E. Risien of San Saba helped turn small frontier towns into thriving commercial centers, and railroads made boomtowns out of placid rural communities like Burnet. Lampasas became a nationally-known resort in the mid-1880s, with thousands of tourists coming to enjoy its deluxe hotels and healthful springs. General Adam R. Johnson founded the city of Marble Falls, expecting to create an industrial center near the powerful falls on the Colorado River. Llano experienced an amazing mineral rush in the late 1880s, with capitalists, prospectors and job-seekers flooding the area and giving it dreams of becoming a major city. Cotton became a major source of income, and thousands of Hill Country cattle were driven up the trails to Kansas. Even towns without a major growth spurt flourished because of the general prosperity, and new towns like Hondo, Center Point, Brady and Menard grew up around the railroads.

       The optimism began to fade in the 20th century; the boll weevil decimated the cotton crop in the 1920s, the Great Depression and World War II took a toll on Hill Country families, and a severe drought in the 1950s led many of the survivors to give up hope of living off the land. In the meantime, improved roads and automobiles made railroads almost irrelevant, and allowed farmers and ranchers to bypass local stores to shop in "the city." Rural schools were consolidated, so that most students traveled to the county seat for their education. While a few towns continued to grow (Mason was one town which never "boomed," and was never reached by the railroad, but which continued a steady growth through most of the lean years), many small communities faded into oblivion, and the countryside lost much of its pre-war population.

       But not all the news was bad, and the seeds of a new prosperity were planted during the bleakest times. Several political giants emerged in the Texas Hill Country during the first half of the 20th century. John Nance Garner, of Uvalde, rose to the offices of Speaker of the House and Vice-President during the 1930s, and helped craft FDR's New Deal, in which thousands of young men from the Hill Country built roads and parks as part of the Civilian Conservation Corps (Garner State Park is the most popular park in Texas). Chester W. Nimitz, of Fredericksburg and Kerrville, rose through the military hierarchy to Fleet Admiral, and led the American forces to victory in the Pacific War. Coke Stevenson, of Junction, enjoyed a remarkable business and political career which culminated with two terms as Texas governor (from 1941 to 1947). He lost a still-controversial Senate election to another Hill Country giant, Lyndon Baines Johnson, in 1948. Johnson, of course, became the 36th president of the United States, and brought worldwide recognition to the Texas Hill Country from his Texas White House in Stonewall. That attention helped turn nearby Fredericksburg into a major tourist attraction, as thousands became aware of the charming German town in the middle of the Texas Hill Country. The state and national parks in Johnson's honor are some of the Hill Country's most significant historical attractions today.

       Other  "good news" included the building of a series of dams along the Colorado River, creating the hugely popular Highland Lakes, and generating a whole new population of affluent retirees through several Hill Country counties. Those dams were followed in the 1960s by Canyon Dam, on the Guadalupe River a few miles northwest of New Braunfels; Canyon Lake is another Hill Country location very popular with vacationers and retirees. Kerrville became a center for summer camps along its spectacular stretch of the Guadalupe River; Bandera became the "Cowboy Capital of the World," with an abundance of excellent dude ranches. Hunting has become a major source of income for many landowners and businesses throughout the Hill Country, as ranching claims less and less of the rural landscape. In some places, exotic game animals have replaced the cattle, sheep and angora goats that once filled the countryside.

       The turning of the tide began in the 1960s and picked up steam in the 1970s as tourists "discovered" the Texas Hill Country, and communities began to spring up along the area lakes and rivers. Kingsland was a tiny community which had nearly disappeared during the Depression; since the construction of the Wirtz Dam formed Lake LBJ in the 1950s, it has become one of the most populous communities anywhere in the Hill Country. Dozens of other lakefront communities have been built, as well; perhaps the most notable is Horseshoe Bay. That luxury resort is the brainchild of two cousins from Brady, descendants of Swedish immigrants who settled in McCulloch County 120 years ago. Through the vision and determination of Norman and Wayne Hurd, it has become one of the premier resorts in Texas (or anywhere, for that matter). It features an amazing roster of amenities in an extraordinarily beautiful location.

       Today, the Texas Hill Country has become one of the nation's most popular tourist destinations, and much of the region's economy is based on welcoming visitors. Almost every little town has attractions of its own: spectacular scenery, pastoral settings, historic buildings, unique shops, fine restaurants and charming bed-and-breakfasts. Every county seat has a unique courthouse and downtown business area (usually a "square"), a historical museum and probably a golf course and an inviting park or two. In some towns there is a concentration of attractions; for others, getting there along the winding Hill Country roads is half the attraction. Every road and every town has its own historical markers -- reminders of the "wild west" days in the not-too-far-distant past.

       Of course, the big cities of Austin and San Antonio offer more in the way of entertainment, and there is plenty to do and to see along the busy highways at the Hill Country's edges. We hope that you'll want to see more of the hills, valleys, caves, lakes, rivers and towns that make the Texas Hill Country so special. We hope that you'll want to hear the stories of those who helped make it such a paradise for us. And we believe that you'll find the peace and natural beauty of our wonderful Hill Country is better in many different ways than the lights and noise of the modern urban rat race.

By John Hallowell   Sun, Jan 02, 2011

       I don't know if it's ever been made official by any government decree, but barbecue is the national food of Texas.  And most of the best "barbecue joints" in Texas are right here in the Texas Hill Country!

       To be fair, I should point out that some form of barbeque (the other accepted spelling -- I'll just say "BBQ" from now on) exists all around the world; the term applies to a lot of different kinds of slow-cooked meats with a lot of different rubs and sauces. In the U.S., BBQ is popular in one form or another across the Midwest and South, with Kansas City in particular as the center for one particular flavor.

       But it was very enlightening to me to see that two "BBQ experts" (Ardie Davis and Paul Kirk, who put "Ph.B" after their names), both from Kansas City and trying to include all possible states, rated 15 Texas BBQ joints in their "Top 100" nationwide. To show how tolerant they were, the list includes entries from states like Washington, Minnesota, New York and even Vermont! At the end of their book, "America's Best BBQ," the authors each listed their top ten favorite BBQ joints; Cooper's BBQ in Llano was rated #1 by Ardie and #4 by Paul.

       Another book ("Republic of Barbecue," by Elizabeth Engelhardt) zeroes in on BBQ joints in Central Texas. Again, to be fair I should point out that several towns east of I-35 are noted for their excellent BBQ: Lockhart, Elgin and Taylor immediately come to mind. But many of the best and most popular BBQ joints anywhere are in the Hill Country.

       I should back up here and point out that cattle have always been a huge part of the Hill Country economy (much of the Hill Country's tremendous growth in the late 1800s was fueled by the cattle drives to Kansas for shipment by railroad to the packing yards of Chicago). Early German and Czech pioneers were experts at sausage-making, and experimented with ways to prepare the tough "briskets" or heavy chest muscles, from the butchered cattle. At first, the briskets were cooked at low temperatures in dutch ovens, but eventually it was found that a long, slow cooking process in a closed "pit" with indirect heat made for tender and delicious briskets. So while there is an assortment of BBQ meats (pork being the main ingredient across most of the South), brisket rules in Central Texas.

       Cooper's in Llano is the Hill Country's BBQ king. Nowhere else do so many people come from such great distances to eat BBQ in such a rustic setting. Among the celebrity diners are former President George W. Bush and current Governor Rick Perry, but businessmen regularly fly into Llano from Dallas, Fort Worth and Houston to enjoy some of Cooper's BBQ. With that in mind, it may come as quite a surprise that, in a listeners' poll done by Austin radio station KVET, the winner was not Cooper's but a competitor just a few blocks west on Highway 29. Inman's Kitchen ("Home of the Famous Turkey Sausage") offers not only a full line of brisket, sausage, ham, turkey and chicken, but also homebaked bread and fresh side dishes.  It also enjoys a very good reputation among BBQ enthusiasts.  Notwithstanding, many locals in Llano will tell you that neither of these BBQ giants is as good as the smaller (and homier) Laird's BBQ, on the south side of town. Llano is probably capital of the "Republic of BBQ!"

       Other towns have excellent BBQ joints, as well, and some have very familiar names. Cooper's in Junction and in Mason are two other wonderful establishments, but not connected with Cooper's in Llano. And Inman's in Marble Falls is another excellent BBQ place (with its own loyal following) which is not connected to Inman's in Llano.

              Another tremendously popular BBQ joint in the Hill Country is Salt Lick BBQ, founded 43 years ago in Driftwood. It now has four locations. Rudy's Country Store got its start in Leon Springs, just north of San Antonio; it now operates about thirty locations across the southwest (Cooper's of Llano has recently expanded, too, opening large BBQ restaurants in New Braunfels and Fort Worth). But there are connoisseurs who swear that Lum's BBQ in Junction is the best anywhere, or Hard 8 in Brady. Almost every town in the Hill Country has its own local favorite, and sometimes two or three. I have particularly enjoyed BBQ at Bertram BBQ, the Feed Store BBQ (in Burnet) Opie's in Spicewood and Gage's BBQ in San Saba. If for some reason you have to go into the city, County Line BBQ in Austin and Tom's Ribs in San Antonio also made the "Top 100" list in "America's Best BBQ."

By John Hallowell   Tue, Dec 07, 2010

       The EmilyAnn Theatre is one of my favorite Hill Country places. For one thing, its story is a most compelling one to me as a father; Emily Ann Rolling was a talented young lady who lost her life in a car accident in 1996. Because of her interest in theater (besides acting, Emily Ann had won awards for costume design), her parents founded a non-profit theater to honor her memory. Over the last decade, the theater has grown into an amazing community project, bringing hundreds of volunteers together for worthwhile causes and, sometimes, for good, old-fashioned fun.

       I’ve had occasion to visit the EmilyAnn Theatre several times: I was there for the dedication of the hilltop Veterans Memorial Plaza (it was a solemn but inspirational experience, as each branch of the armed services raised its flag, and the band played patriotic music). I was there at Christmas time for the Trail of Lights, and I’ve been there twice for Butterfly Day. But I knew there was a reason they called it a “Theatre,” so finally I attended a production of "Fiddler on the Roof."

       It was great! Before the main event got started, there was a brief fashion show; relatives of the famous ballroom dancer, Elsa Barton, modeled gowns that she had worn during her travels across the United States and Europe. Then the forty-plus actors got to work, dramatizing the story of a poor Jewish village in Czarist Russia. Carl Galante, whom I’ve since been privileged to meet, starred as Tevye, the milkman, whose wife and five daughters challenge the “tradition” that organizes his life. He and all the others did a wonderful job; the whole experience was magical!

       The Trail of Lights is open the whole month of December; the 2011 season begins in February with weekend performances of "Why do Fools Fall in Love?" The 13th annual Butterfly Festival will be held April 16. The theatrical season continues with periodic productions from April to November next year.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Nov 25, 2010

       Harry’s Department store is a San Saba landmark. It’s also an inspirational story of success during the lean years in a small Hill Country town. And it’s part of the story of a remarkable man named Harry Shapiro.

       Harry was born in Brady, where his parents were attending a rodeo, in 1921. His mother died shortly thereafter, and Ike Shapiro, a Lithuanian immigrant who owned a small dry goods store in Coleman, raised his son under very difficult conditions.

       Harry Shapiro was serving in the U.S. Army during World War II when his father moved to San Saba and opened another small dry goods store there. Harry returned from military duty with a new wife (Beatrice Kaplan, of Atlanta) and went to work in his father’s store. Being one of very few Jewish families in the Hill Country, the Shapiros maintained their membership in the Temple Beth-El fellowship in Austin.

       San Saba in the late 1940s was a thriving agricultural town with a population of more than 3,000, but the Shapiros’ store (called “The Leader” or “Leader Dry Goods”) was just a small business, and times were quite lean for the young shopkeeper. That didn’t keep Harry Shapiro from making a very good impression on the people of San Saba. When his father died after a short illness in 1951, Harry took over management of the store, and became an influential leader as well as a popular personality (“My father was one of the most civic-minded men in San Saba,” says son Howard Shapiro, a Plano attorney whose wife is State Senator Florence Shapiro). A cursory look through 1952 issues of the San Saba News reveals that Shapiro served as county chairman for the Salvation Army’s annual fund drive (the first ever in San Saba County), the finance chairman of the Civic Improvement League (in charge of raising money for a municipal swimming pool at Mill Creek Pond) and the “big gifts” chairman for the Boy Scouts Fund Drive. That December, he was nominated for director of the local Jaycees.

       He also began to grow the small business he had inherited, advertising aggressively in both the local newspapers -- nurse’s uniforms for $7.95 (March 13, 1952), the Easter Collection (full page ad, March 20), Gene Autry blue jeans for $1.68 and khaki pants for $2.79 (April 3), Vicki Vaughn dresses for $6.95 (4/24) and 100% nylon sport shirts for $4.95 (5/1). He also offered a $40 Caxton hat as a prize for the holder of the best average in the county’s calf tie-down competition.

       That was the year that weather began to seriously damage agriculture in a prolonged drought that changed Hill Country history. While there was a lot of rain in 1952, it came in two furious onslaughts; most of the year was very hot and very dry. The San Saba River rose 27 feet in a springtime flood, but by the end of an extremely hot August (average highs: 105 degrees), most crops were damaged and the Colorado River was not flowing at all. One old-timer, who had kept records since 1885, said it was the worst summer he had ever seen.

       On September 11, parts of San Saba County received 22 inches of rain, and the river rose 37 feet in the worst flood since 1938. That marked the beginning of the terrible drought of the 1950s, probably the worst economic disaster ever suffered by the city of San Saba.

       The store, by now re-named Harry’s, survived and even prospered during these worst of times. Shapiro expanded his San Saba store and opened a shoe store in Lampasas, meanwhile continuing his involvement with almost every civic project in San Saba. He was elected president of the San Saba Chamber of Commerce on January 10, 1957. He and his wife, Beatrice, raised two sons and a daughter in San Saba.

       Then another disaster struck. The drought ended with a deluge in May of 1957, and Sulphur Creek swept through downtown Lampasas. The water pushed in the front door and windows of Shapiro’s shoe store, piling the damaged fixtures and merchandise against the back wall. Shapiro sold what little was left of the business and opened a fabric store across the street from his dry goods store in San Saba. His public service continued unabated, and he was elected mayor of San Saba, serving in that position from 1958 to 1962. He served as Central Texas campaign chairman for Lyndon Johnson’s presidential run in 1964. And, in ad in the January 9, 1964 edition of the San Saba News, he offered genuine Wrangler jeans on sale for $2.98 a pair (regularly $3.98).

       At Christmas time in 1969, Shapiro hired a young student named David Parker as temporary help. Parker impressed Shapiro enough so that, when Shapiro needed full-time help the next April, he called and offered Parker the job. In 1971, Shapiro purchased the old Corner Drug Store next door (expanding Harry’s to the corner of Highways 190 and 16, San Saba’s main intersection), turning it into Harry’s Boot Store. The boot store featured handmade water buffalo boots from the famous Raymondville bootmaker, Abraham Rios, for only $49.98! He also expanded the other direction, purchasing Lynn Ward’s San Saba Hardware store, a building famous for its “weather wall,” where Ward recorded interesting weather events for decades. That part of the wall has been preserved, and is still visible today, although the rest of the building has been nicely restored.

       In 1973, Shapiro sent Parker to study the operations of a discount western store in Lott, Texas. A day after Parker returned with his report, Harry’s became Harry’s Discount Western Wear. Business boomed as customers discovered that Harry’s had the lowest prices in Texas. Some customers would even fly in from around the state. “We’d pick them up at the airport,” Parker recalls, “and bring them here to shop.”

       Longtime San Saba resident Tom Shires recalls that, when he was living in Oklahoma City, he would just call Harry’s and have new Wranglers shipped to his son in New Orleans. He was just one of many loyal customers.

       The “Urban Cowboy” era, from 1977 to 1979 was the all-time high, and during those years, Harry’s sold more Wrangler’s jeans than any other retailer in Texas, although the population in San Saba had dipped to 2,847 by the 1980 census. In the meantime, Shapiro had gone into several business ventures in partnership with Reuben Senterfitt, who served two terms as Speaker of the House in the Texas legislature. He received the Bonds for Israel 30^th Anniversary Leadership Award in 1978 (“He was a very strong supporter of Israel,” says his son, Howard). He also served for several years (1967-73 and 1977-82) on the board of the Lower Colorado River Authority (he was appointed chairman twice by two different governors, John Connally and Dolph Briscoe. He was chosen to co-ordinate Mark White’s campaign for governor in San Saba County in 1982. He served on the Board of Directors of the Heart O’ Texas Savings and Loan Association. He enjoyed hunting, fishing ranching and, according to his son, Howard, “he traveled the world.”

       All those endeavors were ended abruptly by Harry Shapiro’s sudden death, at age 60, in 1982. The whole town mourned his passing; the LCRA dedicated a new office building to his memory on January 19, 1983, and a local artist named Ronald McGuffin painted a mural on the wall of Harry’s Boot Store as a tribute to Harry Shapiro. An era in San Saba was over.

       But Harry’s Department Store continued, under the management of Mrs. Shapiro and long-time employees David Parker and Lorena Terry. The two employees and their spouses formed a partnership in 1986 to purchase the store from Shapiro’s estate, and continued the traditions of personal service, great selection and low price that had made Harry’s such a success. David Parker followed in Harry Shapiro’s footsteps, serving 13 years on the San Saba city council – six of those years as mayor. Harry’s remained the most visible business icon in San Saba.

       In January of 2008, Harry’s was sold to partners Ken Jordan (he is now the mayor of San Saba) and Clay Nettleship (he is the vice-chairman of the LCRA). Already they have made a huge difference in the look and atmosphere of downtown San Saba by their beautiful renovation of Harry's Department Store. It looks like Harry’s will continue to play an important part in San Saba’s future.

By John Hallowell   Tue, Nov 16, 2010

       Before Jefferson Davis became president of the Confederacy, he was the Secretary of War for the United States government. One of his concerns was moving troops and supplies in the great American Southwest, a region where water was scarce and travel was dangerous.

       Davis thought he had a possible solution to the problem; he sent the U.S. Navy to Tunisia to bring 33 camels for an experiment in Texas. On June 6, 1856, Major Henry C. Wayne ordered the beginning of the “Texas Camel Drive” from Indianola to San Antonio. The camels eventually settled at a site between San Antonio and Kerrville called Camp Verde.

       The experiment seemed to be working; camels carried more weight faster with less water in early tests, but the Civil War brought everything to a screeching halt. Some of the camels escaped or were stolen by Indians; a few were released in California, and others were sold to a circus. For years, wild camels would occasionally be spotted somewhere in the southwestern U.S. or in Mexico.

       In 2006, the 150^th anniversary was celebrated with a re-enactment of the great Texas Camel Drive, and crowds turned out at every stop. The photo above was taken on June 3 behind the old Camp Verde Store, just off Hwy 173, between Kerrville and Bandera.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Nov 04, 2010

Railroads in the Texas Hill Country -- civilization reaches into the rugged Texas hills

       The arrival of the railroad, beginning in the 1880s, changed the course of Texas Hill Country history. No longer could the rugged landscape keep civilization at bay.

       Fifty years earlier (in 1830), the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad had established the first network of rail service in the eastern United States, and its 536 miles of track played an important role in the Civil War. After the war, the nation focused its energy on creating a transcontinental railway – a project which was completed in 1869. In the meantime, railroads were spreading across east Texas, arriving at Austin and Waco in 1871, then creating a major inland city at Dallas, when north-south and east-west railroads met there in 1873. San Antonio finally obtained rail service in 1877.

      In 1878, rail service was extended north from Austin to Georgetown, on the eastern border of the Hill Country. In 1880, service was introduced from San Antonio to New Braunfels; that line was joined from the north by the International-Great Northern Railroad  through Austin and San Marcos in 1881. Also that year, a line was built west from San Antonio through Castroville, Hondo and Uvalde – a line at the edge of the hills which still serves as the southern boundary of our Hill Country map.

       But the first real venture into the heart of the Hill Country was the rail line built by the the Austin and Northwest Railroad company from Austin to Burnet in 1882. That line made Burnet into a Hill Country boomtown as a shipping center for all towns west, and spawned a brand-new town -- called Bertram, for one of the railroad executives – along the way. Also in 1882 the Gulf, Colorado and Santa Fe Railway built a line from Temple to Lampasas, bringing commerce and tourism to the town famous already for the healthful qualities of its sulphur springs. Lampasas was transformed from a rowdy cattle town into a popular and elegant resort, sometimes called the “Saratoga of the South.”

       The railroad was extended from Burnet to Granite Mountain (near Marble Falls) in 1884 to simplify shipping stone for the construction of the state capitol, then again to Kingsland and Llano in 1892, where an iron-and-precious-metals boom was already underway. In the meantime the rail line had been extended from Lampasas to Brownwood and beyond in 1885, leading to the establishment of several towns, including Lometa, Goldthwaite and Mullin, along the way. Another railroad came to Brownwood through Comanche from the north in 1891, making the previously sleepy little town into a major regional center. In 1887, another track had been built from San Antonio, through Boerne and Comfort, to Kerrville, where steep hills and deep canyons squelched plans for further extensions.

       A decade or more passed before the railroads expanded again in 1903, this time from Brownwood southwest to Brady, which also experienced a period of explosive growth. In 1907, railroad service came to Hamilton (from Stephenville), and in 1911 two more extensions were built: one from Lometa, going west through San Saba, Richland Springs, Rochelle, Brady and eventually Eden; the other from Brady, southwest to Menardville (which changed its name to the simpler “Menard” in deference to the railroad’s sign-painters.

       The last (and most complicated) Hill Country railroad was the line from Comfort to Fredericksburg, built in 1913. Fredericksburg had long been the Hill Country’s largest town, and several attempts had been made to have accessible by railroad. Construction had started and stopped on tracks north to Llano (in 1889) and south to Comfort or Kerrville (in 1909).  Because it crossed the high divide between the Guadalupe and Pedernales Valleys, the southern route required high trestles and a 920-foot tunnel along the way. The line was precarious throughout its short life, and was closed in 1929, when highways from the east and the south made Fredericksburg accessible by truck. Blanco, Mason and Kimble Counties were never reached by a railroad.

       The popularity of the automobile and improved road construction led to a sharp decline in rail travel during the 1930s, and many of the passenger routes closed down in the 1940s and 50s. Railroad depots were neglected for decades, and some were torn down. In recent years, efforts have begun to restore these symbols of a bygone era. Several have been used as restaurants, visitor centers or museums.

By John Hallowell   Mon, Oct 18, 2010

       John Coleman is a master plumber, who still worked at his day job until this month. Chuck Clark is retired from a career as a civilian employee for the Department of the Army. Both want to be sure you understand that they are NOT re-enactors. But the two self-described “wild west entertainers” have managed to put together one of the most successful, entertaining and educational shows in recent memory with the custom-built, portable, western-style “town” they call Brazos Bottom.

       At one time, Coleman considered himself a re-enactor and tried to do everything in the historically accurate way. When he and his “Cowographers” (a term adopted from a Gene Autry movie) met Clark at the Salado Legends outdoor drama seven or eight years ago, Clark convinced him that it was more important to put on a good show than to wear “authentic” long, woollen underwear. “If we do a skit set in 1865, the audience doesn’t care if we use guns invented in 1868,” Clark declares.

       Shortly after that meeting, Coleman called Clark and asked him to be vice-president of the Cowographers. “He said, ‘I need a VP,” Clark recalls. The two men settled on a division of labor; “John’s administration,” Clark explains. “I’m in charge of the set, the set-up and the shows.” Their enthusiasm and humor soon attracted recruits, and they averaged about sixteen members for the nine or ten shows they did that first season.

       Another group, called Red River Valley Gunfighters, had fallen on hard times, and needed to sell a “town” of six buildings on “the remains” of a house trailer. “We bought the town and the sound system for $1800,” Clark remembers. “But everything was so heavy – it took an army to set it up.” While the group continued to grow, the membership was “ready to revolt” four years ago, because of the hard labor involved in moving the town. Also, the group used to carry nearly a thousand “props” with them on their trips, including a heavy barber’s chair and an anvil that weighed several hundred pounds.

       With the help of some ingenious members, they began to experiment with lighter materials and better construction. They added lightweight “second stories” to several of the buildings, making the town much more authentic-looking, and were able to add buildings to their fold-out town so that Brazos Bottom now comprises a 165-foot-long downtown area, including a stable, a gun shop, a saloon, a hotel, a telegraph office, a bank, a mercantile store, the sheriff’s office, a church and a private ranch house on the other side of the “cemetery.” Above the mercantile store are “Marie’s Millery” and the law office of “Dewey, Cheatum and Howe, attorneys.” All the buildings are wired for sound so that actors can be heard at any section of the “street,” and the crew has eleven wireless microphones for the leading actors in each skit.

       On a typical weekend, the group performs several different skits, one after another, several times a day. Some spectators stay through the “intermission” to watch the show all over again. There is no charge to watch the show, but the Cowographers welcome donations to help pay for ammunition and travel expenses.

       The show requires a major commitment from its members, but despite the heat and the hard work involved in a summer’s schedule, most of the actors are eager for more. “Everyone is a recruiter,” claims Clark, “and we’re especially proud of the number of young people in our group.” Some of those young people have taken on substantial responsibilities, and Coleman and Clark are not expected to take part in the manual labor (although they both play major parts in most of the skits). “They watch us like hawks,” Clark says proudly. “They won’t let us do anything.”

       That bodes well for the future of the Brazos Bottom Cowographers. Both the leaders are a little older, and both have experienced health problems in the recent past. “We don’t intend for this to die,” Coleman stresses. “It can carry on without us.”

       The group performs on more than a dozen weekends each year, often in towns across the Hill Country. They will generally arrive Friday night, set up the town and camp on-site while they perform on Saturday and Sunday. Sunday night, they break down their portable town and head for home. Thousands of spectators enjoy their shows at events like Boerne’s Heritage Gathering, Llano’s Texas Proud Festival, or Goldthwaite’s Christmas in July. They are the official ambassadors for the Llano Main Street Association, and often hold special "jail breaks" at the historic Red Top Jail in Llano.

By John Hallowell   Tue, Oct 12, 2010

By John Hallowell

       It’s a long, long way from the small Italian town of Imola (“thirty miles from the birthplace of Pavarotti,” Benini tells me) to Rattlesnake Mountain, seven miles west of Johnson City.

      It’s a journey that took about 45 years, through 20 different countries, for the world-renowned artist, Benini; but he sees quite a bit in common between his unlikely destination and his boyhood home.

       “It reminded me of the hills of northern Italy,” Benini says. “We were driving through Blanco County, falling in love with the scenery, when we decided to stop at a realtor’s office. A sign on the door said, ‘Closed for Lunch.’ I said to Lorraine, ‘These people know how to live!”

       (Benini’s wife, Lorraine, is a writer who met and fell in love with the artist when she was sent to interview him for a Florida newspaper nearly thirty years ago. She now works with him as his agent and business manager.)

       The Beninis continued on their way through the Hill Country, stopping for the night at the Hill Country Suites in Llano. They were greeted in the morning by a wonderful aroma, which seemed to be coming from the northwest. Jumping into the rental car, they drove around the town, following their noses until they arrived at Cooper’s BBQ. “I said, ‘Lorraine, we’ll wait for the plane right here!” Benini told me.

       Their move from Hot Springs, Arkansas, where the Beninis had helped build a thriving arts community, was almost that abrupt. “I told the realtor, ‘I want a house. I want a hill.’ He said, ‘I’ve got it.’

       It wasn’t just your average house, or your average hill. Rattlesnake Mountain is the highest point along the beautiful Pedernales River valley, and commands a view that stretches (on a clear day) from Austin on the east to the hills beyond Fredericksburg on the west. The luxuriously rustic, Texas-style home had been built for Lyndon B. Johnson, who used the ranch (now called Le Stelle) for hunting while he served his term as president. And there’s more;  the varied terrain offers intimate settings among the trees, or open spaces for groupings of sculptures. The rugged hillsides become part of the artist’s canvas, as God’s handiwork complements that of several noted sculptors.

       A 14,000 square-foot Quonset hut that formerly housed President Johnson’s farm machines has been re-built to serve as headquarters for the Benini Foundation, with a fine arts library, offices and a beautiful gallery to exhibit art works by Benini and others. One interesting momento at the gallery (from Benini’s Hot Springs days) is a chandelier from Bill Clinton’s boyhood home; it was a gift from Clinton’s mother, Virginia Kelley.

       The Beninis have even discovered a place to satisfy their craving for fine BBQ: Ronnie’s BBQ in Johnson City has become a home away from home, and the Beninis often entertain guests in a back room there.

       Benini tells me that he’s been earning a living by painting for almost 50 years. He left home at age 14, and painted landscapes and churches to pay his way; his first one-man show was in 1961 at Milan. In 1968, he began showing in New York, in Canada and across Europe. He lived in 18 countries before settling in the Bahamas in 1972; he moved to Florida, and became an American citizen in 1986.

       Benini says that he’s been fortunate to have patrons follow him through several stages of development as an artist. “When I was young, I was a painter; I was not an artist.” he says. “Art is a tool to elevate our consciousness. An artist has to push the envelope into bigger and greater things.”

       During the sixties, Benini went through a period where he wanted his work to shock viewers. “I painted a lot of ugly things. I burned a lot of them later.” It wasn’t a total waste. The Nixon administration used one of his “ugly” paintings as an anti-drug poster in the slums of Washington, D.C.

       Benini changed his approach, arriving at the idea that art should be used to create beauty. For several years, he developed a “Rose” theme, with rose-shaped canvasses and vivid colors. Then he moved into his “Geometric” period, using up to 30 coats of paint to create a 3-D look on curved designs. A more recent theme is his “Courting Kaos” series, based loosely on the scientific Chaos theories.

       The Beninis welcome groups (specially school classes) or individuals to visit and enjoy their 140-acre sculpture ranch and gallery, but they request that visitors call ahead for an appointment (830-868-5244 or www.Benini.com), since they are not always available. Benini works at night, so he is not usually up and around before 11 a.m.

       You won’t have to be well-versed in artistic terms or concepts to enjoy a tour. Even a rank amateur will be impressed with the works of art that are exhibited at the Benini Sculpture Ranch, and it is easy to imagine that some talented youngster could be inspired here to become, perhaps, the next Benini.

By John Hallowell   Fri, Oct 08, 2010

Hiking

by John Hallowell

       Fall is the perfect time to go hiking anywhere in the Hill Country, but at Lost Maples State Natural Area (if you time your visit well), you can have the added benefit of some spectacular fall colors as the leaves change on the park's trademark maple trees. I would not make a decision based on the fall colors; the park is always one of the best hiking places in the Texas Hill Country, and with the beautiful colors come crowds of hikers. If you prefer solitude on the trails, try another time; the scenery and the hilltop views are always spectacular.

       The cooler fall weather makes for a great time to hike at other state parks as well. My daughter and I spent a recent afternoon hiking the trails at Pedernales Falls State Park (with her Border Collie, Gidget) and had a great time. Other great hiking trails can be found at Inks Lake State Park, South Llano River State Park, Garner State Park (climbing Old Baldy is a special experience), and Enchanted Rock State Natural Area (to the top of the rock, or hiking around it; both are enjoyable and memorable hikes). Perhaps our favorite hike so far was on the Spicewood Springs Trail at Colorado Bend State Park; it follows the creek (and criss-crosses it several times on stepping-stones) for quite long way, passing numerous little waterfalls, pools and swimming holes. There's a new trail to Gorman Falls; another must-see at Colorado Bend, it ends at a spectacular waterfall when it reaches the Colorado River. There are caves at Colorado Bend, but they are open to the public only by guided tour (so call ahead for details).

       I have heard of several other great Hill Country hiking trails; I'll let you know when I've had a chance to explore them.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Oct 07, 2010

ENCHANTED SPRINGS RANCH

by John Hallowell

       Enchanted Springs Ranch is not only a wonderful Hill Country attraction, but (as you might suspect if you’ve been lucky enough to visit) it’s a huge adventure for its owners, as well. The Texas Hill Country magazine has covered numerous bits and pieces of the Enchanted Springs Ranch story in past issues; this time we’ll attempt a sort of overview (but we’re warning you; you really need to see it for yourself!)

       Steve Schmidt is a Hill Country native (born and raised in Fredericksburg) who has traveled the world and come back home. After high school, he was accepted into the Air Force Academy at Colorado Springs, where he earned a B.S. in Mathematics, then spent ten years flying warplanes (mostly B-52 bombers). His second decade in the Air Force was spent finishing a PhD in Statistics and teaching at the Air Force Academy, writing books on statistics and leadership, and advising defense contractors on matters of efficiency. When he retired from the military, he continued and expanded his consulting work as a private contractor. In addition to the defense contractors, his clients included corporate giants such as Motorola, Texas Instruments, Sony, General Electric, Abbott Labs, H.E.B. and Dannon Yogurt. His work took him all over the world. His wife, Vicki, worked with him as a partner in the consulting firm.

       After a globe-trotting decade, Steve and Vicki decided to retire, and bought themselves a beautiful 86-acre ranch off Highway 46, just west of Boerne; the ranch came with three old barns. Steve built old-west-style façades to beautify the buildings, and used the area for barbeques with family and friends. Everyone liked it, so he kept adding on. Soon, a friend who designs sets for Hollywood films advised him to build a whole western town. Schmidt was excited about the idea of a place where people could experience the Old West and learn a little of the Hill Country’s rich heritage. Enchanted Springs Ranch was born! As its fame spreads, there are more and more helpers – chuckwagon cooks, actors, re-enactors, cowboys, Indians, gunfighters, trick ropers, musicians and other entertainers to enhance the Enchanted Springs experience; ; they dress in period costumes and mingle with guests, adding greatly to the “old west” atmosphere.

       Along with all the hard work, there has been quite a bit of publicity and a whole lot of fun. The proprietors of Enchanted Springs Ranch have had a chance to act in several commercials, TV shows and even feature films. Steve and Vicki were featured in a MSNBC Business special on October 21, 2007 (still available for viewing as of August 1, at the MSNBC website, “Your Business” section – it’s entitled Second Time Around). More recently, Steve and his brother-in-law, Grant Jacobs, starred with several celebrity actors in Palo Pinto Gold, an Anthony Henslee production which premiered in San Antonio two years ago.  DVDs are now available at the ranch.

       Enchanted Springs Ranch now includes more than 30 uniquely “western” buildings with facilities for all kinds of private events, plus a rustic (but luxurious) bed-and-breakfast, an old-fashioned church which serves as a  wedding chapel, a gift shop, a theater, a Texas history exhibit, livestock pens and barns, a wild animal park, horse-or-tractor-drawn wagons and a wide variety of western-themed activities. A recent innovation is “Arrest-a-Guest,” where visitors can purchase an arrest warrant to have a friend locked up by the not-so-stern sheriff. There’s no telling what the “criminal” will have to do to get out (but everyone there will enjoy it!) Special events are held at regular intervals (call (800) 640-5917 or visit the website at www.enchantedspringsranch.com for up-to-the-minute information).

       While Schmidt is still full of ideas to bring Enchanted Springs Ranch to his ideal of a western “mini-theme-park,” he isn’t planning any more building in the near future. “We’re just going to be fine-tuning for a while,” he says. “We’ve built as much as we need right now.” Indeed, the ranch already boasts enough features to attract thousands of visitors each year. “We’ve had guests from more than 80 countries,” he reports proudly. Many of them come back for more, bringing friends and family with them to see Enchanted Springs Ranch.

       From September to May, the ranch is normally open to the public only on weekends (Saturday and Sunday, 10 to 5), but it is available for special events and private parties any time except Thanksgiving Day, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and New Year’s Day. A variety of catering and entertainment options are available for private events.

       Merely listing features will not give you a true sense of the “enchantment” to be experienced here. The unspoiled beauty of the countryside and the friendly welcome you’ll receive from the costumed hosts and entertainers make this place a wonderful “time machine.” While you’re at Enchanted Springs Ranch, you’ll be transported back (for a short, enjoyable interlude) to the glory days of old west.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Oct 07, 2010

       When Mike and Kristy Robinson decided to take a vacation from their family’s real estate business (A Texas Star Real Estate, in Wimberley) in December of 2006, they paid a visit to the tropical Central American country of Belize. One of the highlights of their trip was a ride on a zipline, which offered a dramatic view of the rainforest. “It was so much fun, we decided we wanted one here,” Mike says.

       They got together with Jim and Cheryl Turner, friends from church who had similar interests. Both men had considerable construction experience; Jim is an engineer, and is in the homebuilding business in Wimberley. The partners leased 30 spectacular acres from the Winn family’s “Four Winns” ranch just south of Wimberley, and set out to build the best zipline in Texas. They consulted with expert Joel Cryer, from Austin, did a whole lot of research, and built the zipline themselves to very exacting standards. Being very safety-conscious, they made sure it could easily handle many times the weight that it will ever carry.

       Not knowing exactly how things would go, the partners held a “soft opening” March 1, 2008, hoping to get some experience before the crowds arrived. One of the first riders was a reporter from the Austin American-Statesman, who put a page-and-a-half story in the paper during Spring Break. That was the end of the“soft opening,” but things have gone very well for the new attraction. “We’ve already had thousands of riders,” Robinson says. “We have been very, very blessed.”

       You can learn more about Wimberley Zipline Adventures by calling 512-847-9990 or by visiting www.wimberleyzipline.com. The zipline is every bit as much fun as you’d hope for, but not as scary as you might expect. And the Hill County views are fantastic!

By Kenn Knopp   Tue, Jul 20, 2010

THE OVALS OF HISTORY
History is "Happy History" when it is written by one who tries to sweep various things and certain facts or fancies about individuals or organizations under the rug of time, often covering up valuable lessons to be learned by what really might have involved "Unhappy History" -- or, viceversa. Only a totally perverse person would tell just Unhappy History. History sings its own anthems and dirges in special periods of time, called paradigms, about persons or events, reflecting the good, the bad, the ugly or the beautiful: "Ye shall be as gods"; "The Pursuit of Happiness"; "Don't Tread on Me!"; "Come and Get It!"; "Remember the Alamo!"; "Texas Forever!"; "Viva Zapata!"; "Grapes of Wrath"; "Heil Hitler!"; "A Date Which Will Live In Infamy"; "The Only Thing to Fear Is Fear Itself"; "The Pause that Refreshes"; "Don't Fence Me In"; "Ask What You Can do for Your Country"; and, "Ich bin ein Berliner". Also, "I Have a Dream"; "Agent Orange"; "In Cold Blood"; "The Eagle Has Landed"; "Benign Neglect"; "Helter Skelter"; "Watergate"; "The Evil Empire"; "Deregulation"; "Deficit"; "Don't Mess with Texas"; "Just Say No"; "Habitat for Humanity"; "Choose Life"; "Have a Good Day"; and, “Enjoy!”. Friedrichsburg, Texas, is all of the above and none of the above. Its own story is its own special anthem, about a special place, of special people--good, bad, ugly, beautiful.
In 1975, while visiting a distinguished library in a major city in Germany, I discovered with great
exhilaration and amazement that the chief librarian knew all about Friedrichsburg, Texas. He used
a term that shocked me: something he called the “Adelsverein Scheme.” He invited me to sit down
and to chat with him. Other people, years earlier, from Friedrichsburg had been there also.
Suddenly he asked, "Is it for Happy History or Real History that you are here?" I tilted my head like
a puzzled cocker spaniel. He proceeded to explain the difference and agreed to point me in
certain directions if I would promise never to use his name or the location of the library. According
to him, the history of the Adelsverein had been purged or “cleansed” repeatedly through the years.
The approach of this book was based on the eye-opening clues he and others provided at some
risk to their livelihoods.
Born in Fredericksburg, Texas in 1934, I started much too late in life, in the 1950’s, writing down
some of the stories that would suddenly surface. Truth, they say, eventually emerges; even if in
disparate bits. The Bible assures us that our sins, too, have a curious way of finding us out.
Undoubtedly, much truth has been effectively submerged and weighed down with layers of coverup.
For example, a German kills another German in pioneer times in the Friedrichsburg area and
scalps the other German to make it appear the dastardly deed was done by “savage” Indians.
Actually, the only dastard was that German Texan! The stories of “history” must always be taken
with a grain of salt, “cum grano salis”. By the same token, these stories are not to be brushed
aside too hastily.
Documentation is, of course, the constant goal but, it is done only to share the blame in the
relaying of gossip in the “The Ovals of History”. If you remember your penmanship ovals, no two
were ever quite alike. But when the same story comes around again and again, there just may be
a mite of truth in it. In addition, I have always been amazed that in most communities of America
and Europe the court house has been burned down at least once. Friedrichsburg in Gillespie
County, Texas, is no exception. Arson was and is a way of doing away with the real evidence.
If I have inadvertently passed on a mistruth, or overlooked a truth, I challenge and already
congratulate you or the next researcher for discovering other facets or facts to help set it straight. I
cannot tell you how satisfying it is when that happens. For example, when I browsed the Internet
attempting to find out more about the artist who designed, penned and produced the historic
Friedrichsburg-Indian Peace Treaty document, Swiss-born Conrad Caspar Rordorf, I was able to
make contact with an art institute in Zuerich, Switzerland. They faxed a very short biography of his
life and works which stated that Rordorf had come to Texas in 1847 and was killed in Mexico
helping the U.S. Army keep Texas a part of the USA. Because of information already researched
in Texas by others, I was able to inform the institute that Friedrichsburg resident, Rordorf, actually
lost his life in 1847 between LaGrange and Brenham on a cotton plantation called Nassau Hof.
Rordorf was a member of a posse of good citizens of Friedrichsburg who finally had their fill of the
impostor doctor and provocateur, Dr. Schubert, Friedrichsburg’s first city director, whose
shenanigans were causing great unrest and turmoil. Rordorf was killed at Nassau Hof and was
probably shot by Schubert himself. Schubert was to be given the Nassau Hof deed in exchange
for being the first city director of Friedrichsburg. But Meusebach, the Immigration Commissioner,
decided Schubert had not earned the deed. Schubert survived the Nassau Hof confrontation
unscathed, but never returned to Friedrichsburg, eventually making his way back to Germany.
There he became a successful writer about America’s Wild West and its Indians. Rordorf was one
of Friedrichsburg’s first heroes for giving his life in helping get rid the city of the hated and feared
Dr. Schubert. Instinctively the journalist should not and more often than not, just cannot, “leave
well enough alone.” “How we betray our past when we forget its most disquieting realities.” --
attributed to Blanche H. Gelfant’s discourse on Willa Cather’s novel, My Antonia, by professor Eric
Heyne of the University of Alaska-Fairbanks in his masterpiece, Desert, Garden, Margin, Range:
Literature on the American Frontier, Twayne-Macmillan Publishers, New York, NY, 1992, p. 169

RESPECT FOR FOREIGN WORDS
To rename names on the part of a foreign nation has always seemed to me to be the height of
egoistic treachery. For Koeln to be “designated” Cologne, Muenchen “Munich”, Jakob “James” or
Friedrichsburg “Fredericksburg” is a serious affront, perhaps even amounting to linguistic cleansing
or genocide! Words are the precious gems of creation intrinsically tied to life’s spirit and soul.
Throughout this work at least some attempt has been made to retain the spelling of the native
word.
Also, because of the gross stupidity and neglect of the learning of languages other than English
that begins in the elementary grades in the United States, German words and idioms have often
been accompanied by their closest possible meaning in English, or vice-versa. Perhaps this will
help a reader or two to continue taking up the learning of another language, since our schools are
inordinately preoccupied with baby-sitting, pacifying time, football, pep squad, and marching band
drills... and the teaching of tests, even to the point of reclassifying students into special education
categories to make sure they play football or stay in the band. None of these activities are bad in
and of themselves. But they should not be more important than reading, writing, arithmetic and
being fluent in another language. I wish to thank my wiser and older, and only brother, Jacob L.
“Skip” Knopp, for taking the time to critique and edit this work and for the kind way in which he
never failed to caution or correct me. I did listen, sometimes. An apology is due my mother,
Wilhelmina, for some neglect of her needs by being gone so often doing research. Then there are
those whose words of encouragement or their own professional example through the years meant
more than they ever knew: Norman J. Dietel, Erna Dietel Heinen, Janet Harris, Francis &
Josephine Weingartner, Howard Rogers, Sam Lanham, Jack Maguire, and William “Bill” and
Modena Marschall von Bieberstein.
Thanks also to the friendship of Kurt & Elke Ditges whose knowledge of German idioms and
expressions was most helpful. My gratitude to Prof. Dr. Meredith McClain of the German Studies
Archives of Texas Tech University for inviting me to present the chapter in this book on Friedrich
Strubberg, aka Armand, precursor of Karl May, at the International Karl May Symposium held the
fall of 2000 in Lubbock. It was there that the president of the Karl May Gesellschaft, Prof. Dr.
Reinhold Wolff of the University of Bielefeld, Germany, informed me that the paper had been
selected to be included in their book, Karl May im Llano Estacado, Hansa Verlag Publishers,
Husum, Germany, 2004. Also, much thanks is due Dr. med. Peter Engel of the University of
Marburg, Germany, now retired, and Frau Traute Seeliger of Kassel, Germany, who took the time
to open many doors to rooms of fascinating archives...and doors of thought, too. I especially
thank, and wish to honor, the late Sister Julie McDougall, also known as Sister Mary Alphonsine of
the Sisters of Divine Providence in San Antonio. Her order of erudite nuns originally came to
Texas from Lothringen (Lorraine, France). Sister Julie was my journalism-communications teacher
at St. Mary’s Catholic High School, Fredericksburg, who challenged me to seek and speak the
truth -- and be ready to suffer its exquisite consequences. Never again would I be graced by a
teacher of her equal -- that was way back in 1950-52.
I have tried to express deep appreciation in the notes or within the stories to the many exegetes
and enabling persons who wished to remain nameless who went out of their way to point me to
archives with substantive evidences and corroborating sources. Finally, “I cannot say how the
truth may be; I say the tale as told to me.” Scott - Lay of the Last Minstrel

Notes are found on the last story of this series, http://texas-hill-country.com/issue/texas-hill-country/article/twentieth-century-the-lure-continues 

By Kenn Knopp   Tue, Jul 20, 2010

GERMAN MONARCHY TAKES INTEREST IN THE HILL COUNTRY NATURAL TREASURES
In 1842 more than 30 German noblemen formed a stock company called the Adelsverein, the
Society of Noblemen, at the castle of Duke Adolph von Nassau in Biebrich on the Rhein River.
The Society opened its office in Mainz almost directly across the Rhein River from the Biebrich
Castle. The Adelsverein had many public and covert goals: to develop a trade colony in the vast
unsettled lands of the Texas Hill Country and West Texas -- where the gold and silver was waiting
to be mined; to provide free land in the Hill Country that would help them get rid of revolutionists
wanting to bring down the feudal system; to do something about the ever-growing number of
paupers as well as others not happy with the way things were. The Republic of Texas was delighted with the Adelsverein campaign across Germany advertising that Germans should come to its office to sign up for the voyage and apply for either city lots or country acreage which they could own just by showing up and taking possession. If the lots and acreages were taken up in New Braunfels, they could go on to Fredericksburg or even more toward the west to Bettina, Castell, Leiningen, Schoenburg, or Meerholz on the Llano River.
The German settlers would be a God-send for Texas. The Germans, hale, hearty, and good
with rifles, would help control the Indians and hopefully help keep the Mexicans on their side of the
Rio Grande River. And, if the Germans were slaughtered by Indians in the way the early
Spaniards were, so what. As far as the Adelsverein goes, after unloading the immigrants, their
supplies and other salable commodities, the ships would then immediately be loaded with bales of
cotton, hides, corn, herbs and plants and other goods to be sold to eager merchants at the busy
ports of Liverpool, Antwerp, and Bremen.
Quite naturally these German potentates would hardly let on that they had long since heard the
reports of their ancestors about the gold and silver mines of the Texas area as well as gold hidden
away in or around the various Spanish missions when Indians ran them over. Prince Johannes
Werner von Sachsen-Altenburg, present-day heir of the Duke of Saxony, was a special guest
lecturer in Fredericksburg, Texas, on Saturday, April 12, 2003. Prince Hans, as he prefers to be
called, is an avid historian and archeologist. His subject was the Adelsverein (Society of
Noblemen) and how its members, stockholders all and restricted only to royalty, were undoubtedly
influenced by the lure of the Texas Hill Country's ore. His research in his family archives included
information about how King Carlos of Spain had married Maria von Sachsen of Prince Hans'
lineage. Another report tells of the Marquis de Rubi, the inspector general for King Carlos III of
Spain, being sent to Mexico in 1766 to report on the condition and viability of the Spanish
penetrations into northernmost Mexico in what is now Texas and their search for gold and silver
mines. (1 MS I. I-h)
One of the investors in the Adelsverein project, Prince Carl von Solms-Braunfels, was directly
related in marriage to Queen Victoria and the royal family of England. Prince Carl's published
diaries show he reported about trade and the more sinister political aspects of Texas, the U. S. and
Mexico, to both German and English rulers. His main objective was to create an independent
German Republic which would help support England, Mexico, and the southern belt of states in
their quest to stifle the economic and territorial expansion of the Northern U.S. states. The
products of the South were imminently more valuable to them than those of the North. (1 MS I. I-i)
The Prussian rulers, too, had long taken careful note of Spain's preoccupation with the Texas
area and were undoubtedly in the background when on August 21, 1821, Mexico wrested itself
from Spain's rule that was affirmed by the Treaty of Cordoba. Germany stepped right up and has
been flirting with the Mexicans ever since. The possibility of precious metals in the Texas region
was and always has been an irresistible temptation to all rulers and treasure seekers no matter
from what country.
The rulers of Germany, and the leaders of Austrian-Hungarian Empire, accelerated and
polished up their spying and relationships with the newly independent and turbulent or
"inexperienced" Mexican nation. The regime of Augustin I de Iturbide, emperor of Mexico, lasted
only from May 19, 1822 to March 19, 1823. (1 MS I. I-j)
In 1844 the Adelsverein sent Prince Carl von Solms-Braunfels to be in charge of establishing
the German colony in Central West Texas and to get on with the colonization project without delay.
Prince Carl quietly set up his own port about ten miles south of what is today Port Lavaca. He did
not want to alarm the Texans or Americans in Galveston when steady streams of German
immigrants began arriving. He named the new port Carlshaven which later became known as
Indian Point and finally Indianola. But the Texans and the Americans were neither blind nor dumb.
Solms bought land 20 miles northeast of San Antonio at the foothills of Hill Country. His surveyors
laid out the lots which the initial group of immigrants began claiming on Good Friday, March 21,
1845. He named the new town in honor of his "lieblingsplatz" -- his favorite place, Braunfels, in
Hessia on the Lahn River. But, on December 29, 1845, something else became official: Texas
was the newest state in the Union. The Germans and the Mexicans got the message..."Finger
davon!"....which is Fredericksburg German for "Keep your fingers out of it".....or in today's Texas
term, "Don't mess with Texas!"
Despite the Adelsverein and Prince Carl of Solms seeing Texas embedded in the Union of
States and their goal of setting up a feudal state in West Texas thereby nixed, the interest of
Germans and other Europeans in the free land and opportunities in the new state of Texas did not
slow down the immigration process. It is interesting to note that the Fisher-Miller Land Grant for
which the Adelsverein had negotiated carefully contained all the areas in which were located the
Spanish garrison and mission outside the town of Menard as well as the gold and silver mines
areas along the Llano and San Saba Rivers and their tributaries.
In late 1845, as Texas was in the process of becoming a state, despite the objections and
efforts of England and Germany, Prince Solms announced his resignation and returned to
Germany. But the Adelsverein still had no choice but to honor the contracts of thousands of
immigrants who had booked passage and were signed up to be rightful claimants of lots and lands
in Texas. It must also complete the contracts with the ship owners. More than 60 ships already
were well into the process of bringing thousands of Germans to Texas.
Baron Ottfried Hans von Meusebach, an avid geologist and botanist, was fascinated by the
reports about the Texas Hill Country. Also a secret admirer of America's "democratic experiment",
he agreed to take Prince Carl's place and see the immigration process through. Only years later
would he let it be known that he intended never to return to Germany again. Everyone should
have deduced this since almost from the beginning he insisted on being called John O.
Meusebach, his titles, royalty and numerous educational degrees notwithstanding.
On May 8, 1846, Meusebach authorized the settling of Friedrichsburg about 75 miles
northwest of New Braunfels as another way-station half-way to the Llano River and the beginning
of the Fisher-Miller Land Grant. He and his family were friends of the Prussian rulers, the
Hohenzollerns. He was a friend of Prince Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig von Hohenzollern the highest
ranking German official, a nephew of the Prussian King, who had bought stock in the Adelsverein.
Meusebach named the new town Friedrichsburg in honor of the Prussian prince.
Meusebach made the Texas Hill Country his permanent home and eventually retired near the
Llano River in a place he named Loyal Valley, referring to his love of the ideals and constitution of
the United States of America, and being opposed to secession, slavery, and the Confederacy.
Meusebach's preoccupation was the geology and the flora and fauna of the Texas Hill Country.
Upon arriving in Texas he befriended Johann Heinrich Runge (1816-1873), later known as Henry
Runge, who organized the very first bank in Texas with offices in Galveston and later also in
Carlshaven (Indianola.) Runge's assistance was critical in helping Meusebach be able to work out
the horrendous problems with creditors he inherited from his predecessor, Prince Carl von Solms-
Braunfels. It must, though, be said in Solm's defense, that it was the rich members of the
Adelsverein who suddenly began cutting off their financial support when they learned that Texas
was definitely going to be annexed by the United States in December of 1845. The idea of fighting
the United States should the time come when the German Republic of West Texas rebelled or
seceded from the Republic of Texas did not sound too realistic to them. And, it is thought that
once the German Democratic Rebellion was put down sufficiently between 1845-1848, also known
as the Paulskirche National Democratic Assembly of Frankfurt-am-Main, the monarchists then felt
the "Texas Colony" was no longer a viable investment -- or an expense they needed anymore! In
less than a year from when Meusebach replaced Solms the Adelsverein withdrew its financial
support and simply just let the immigrants sink and swim on their own. Thanks to the ingenuity of
Meusebach and Runge, and others, too, the immigrants, despite much suffering, were able to get
a foothold and slowly but surely begin to make money with hard work, planting crops, raising cattle,
delivering supplies, etc. Each immigrant was able to be a stakehholder by owning property or
possessing a talent in work or service that was needed.
For Runge's friendship and assistance, Meusebach was happy to oblige Runge's special
request to find about the truth about the fabled ore of the Hill Country. Runge hoped to find coal
seams or openings which might provide an alternate fuel source for wood. Meusebach reported
he found no signs of coal in the central Hill Country but did find it in the nearby Permian Basin to
the west. There were signs of the Permian foundation in the Fisher-Miller Land Grant just outside
the Hill Country but mining techniques of the time could not get down to the very deep Permian
strata; perhaps someday. (1 MS I. I-k)
Meusebach's friend and fellow scientist, Dr. Ferdinand von Roemer of Hildesheim, in the latter
part of 1845, arranged with the Adelsverein, or visa-versa, to come to Texas to explore its fabled
terrain and flora. He was also to advise the Adelsverein about the further plausability of continuing
to finance the expensive Texas colony project. Von Roemer thrust himself into firsthand
observations for almost two years, well into 1847, before he returned to Germany. His report was
published in Germany in 1849 and is still considered one of the best narratives of scholarly
substance about pioneer Texas. He wrote about his visit to the presidio and mission near Menard,
"...the Spanish were supposed to have worked some rich silver mines here. The fort was
supposedly erected to protect a mine nearby. Our purpose in coming here was not only to
investigate whether the soil is suited for farming, but also to determine if the reports concerning the
silver mines were true. We therefore looked for smelting ovens and heaps of slag in the vicinity of
the fort....there appeared to be no deposits of precious metals." (1 MS I. I-l) From the Menard
area the Von Roemer party, with Delaware Indian chief, Jim Shaw, as his guide and translator,
traversed along the San Saba River valleys and hills until they reached the main camp of the
Comanches near the present-day town of San Saba. There they found John O. Meusebach and
other German leaders of Friedrichsburg who had already begun working out a treaty of peace.
This peace treaty, never broken, is celebrated the second weekend of May each year in
Fredericksburg with a colorful Intertribal Pow-Wow of prize dancing, booths of Indian food, and the
sale of Indian costumes, books, paintings and other traditional items in tribute to the Indian Way.
Incidentally, Von Roemer ended up in his report to the Adelsverein in Germany recommending that
the German settlements best not cross the Llano River. Outside of the heart of the Hill Country he
felt aridity and soil conditions did not bode well for farming and raising crops. For the most part his
advice was taken seriously. Of the four German settlements above Fredericksburg founded in
1847 along the Llano River: Castell, Leiningen, Meerholz, and Schoenburg, only Castell remains
today. The picturesque village of Castell is mostly on the south side of the Llano River, not on the
other side within the Fisher-Miller Land Grant boundaries. The Fisher-Miller Land Grant area
terms of settlement expired and attempts to renegotiate with the State of Texas officials, especially
after statehood, failed.

Notes are found on the last story of this series, http://texas-hill-country.com/issue/texas-hill-country/article/twentieth-century-the-lure-continues 

By Suzy Moehring Mallard   Fri, Jul 16, 2010

 I took a little birding class last month from Jane Tillman, a member of Austin's Travis Audubon Society, and I really enjoyed being around that handful of folks who enjoyed the outdoors and God's little tweety friends.
Jane took about a dozen of us budding birdwatchers on field trips to the backyard of her Northwest Austin home and to Stillhouse Hollow Preserve, right in the heart of her hilly Austin neighborhood.
Jane's backyard, which borders on yet another urban greenspace, Barrow Preserve, is a Best of Texas Certified Wildlife Habitat, lush with Texas native plants for birds and butterflies.
Early on an overcast Saturday morning proved to be a good time to see and hear goldfinches, cardinals, Carolina chickadees and downy woodpeckers.
But it was the trip to Stillhouse Hollow Preserve that wowed me. Tucked into the middle of one of my nearby neighborhoods is this wooded, creekside canyon of a secret spot-the kind of no-adults-allowed places that we all had when we were kids. You know the ones, where the trees lining the path grow over the path and hide you from everything so you think you're in some magical, away-from-it-all spot. But there I was, in the heart of a part of Austin that I travel through every day.
We walked through a small, sunny meadow across the street from homes into the 19-acre preserve and got off to a birdy good start as the beginning birders saw swifts flying from house to house.
We walked through stands of cedar and oak, part of what designates this preserve as endangered species habitat for golden cheeked warblers and black capped vireos.
And we were visited on our walk through by neighbors pushing strollers and walking dogs, bicycle riders and kids fiddling around as they headed down to the lookout over one of the creeks. Really, though, bikes and dogs are on the list of no-no's in the preserve. Still, it was good to see folks out and about on a Saturday morning.
Man alive, I tried to keep my eyes up in the trees as we wandered through this beautiful area, but I'm a long-time plant person and I loved seeing the native blooms in the preserve: lantana, turk's cap, rock rose, Eve's necklace. We saw Texas mountain laurel, cedar sage, wafer ash, spicebush and lots of maidenhair fern, as well.
And deep into the half-mile-or-so trail we saw some huge karst features-limestone sinks and ledges. Several springs in the preserve feed into streams in the Bull Creek watershed.
At the wooden overlook that drops down into a dramatic ravine, we heard water below us and on this day that was turning sunny and hot the coolness of the ravine lookout was welcome.
FYI • Stillhouse Hollow Nature Preserve is one of about a dozen City of Austin preserves, some accessible and with trails, some open to the public on only a limited basis. Stillhouse Hollow is at 7810 Sterling Drive off Burney close to Mesa Drive in Northwest Austin.

Story © 2010 Hill Country Sun, used by permission http://www.HillCountrySUN.com 

By John Hallowell   Wed, Oct 06, 2010

The Land of Living Waters

by John Hallowell

       Junction is named for its location at the meeting of the North and South Llano Rivers, and the abundance of springs and streams among the hills around Junction gave rise to the area's nickname, "The Land of Living Waters." At the same time, the rugged terrain and the vast expanses to the west of Junction have led many to call Junction "The Front Porch of the West." This is the place where the Hill Country meets West Texas, and the town's name seems doubly appropriate.

       Before modern roads were carved through the steep hills that surround the town, Kimble County was quite a forbidding place, and only the most courageous (or the most desperate) ventured here. In the early 1850s, when settlement began in the Hill Country, the government established Fort Terrett near the head of the North Llano River to protect settlers from the Comanches. The fort was abandoned just two years later because there were neither settlers nor Comanches in the area!

       Kimble County (named for George C. Kimble, a hero of the Alamo) was formed in 1858 from lands formerly assigned to Bexar County, but was attached to Gillespie County for judicial purposes until 1875. During those years, the first few hardy settlers had begun to trickle in.

       One of the first was Raleigh Gentry, who arrived in 1859 with his wife and six sons to set up housekeeping on the banks of Bear Creek, about five miles upstream from the North Llano River. The family lived well with abundant game, wild honey and a small cultivated field. Once or twice a year, Gentry would make the 60-mile trip to Fredericksburg for supplies.

       The Moore, Gibson and Bradbury families were among the other early arrivals, but the peace they enjoyed when they first arrived turned out to be short-lived. As the frontier pushed west, the Comanches retreated into Kimble County, and residents found themselves in the middle of a war for most of two decades before a flood of pioneers displaced the last of the Comanches in the late 1870s. the last serious raids in Kimble County occurred in 1876.

       Close behind the Comanches were outlaws, also retreating before an onslaught of industrious settlers and accompanying lawmen. Although the county was organized (and the towns of Kimbleville and Junction City were founded) in 1876, it took a large-scale roundup of outlaws by the Texas Rangers in 1877 to make the county safe for ranchers. The population grew from just 72 counted in the 1870 census to more than 2,200 in 1890.

       Kimbleville became the first county seat, and the first session of district court was held there under the spreading branches of a live oak tree. There was no jail, so prisoners were chained to nearby trees during the proceedings. It is reported that bees from a hive in the branches above the "courtroom" caused quite some annoyance during that first session!

       Kimbleville soon lost its status as the county seat, probably due to frequent flooding, and Junction City was awarded the honor. There wasn't much of a city yet, but William McLane donated lots for a public square, and a huge BBQ picnic and all-night dance was held July 4 (also America's Centennial) to celebrate. Court was held in a brush arbor until a few rough lumber and log buildings were erected. An 1877 article in a Mason newspaper describes a court session held in a blacksmith shop, and reports that the judge's horse was among 14 stolen that night by Comanches! A two-story lumber courthouse was built in 1878, but burned to the ground two years later. It was replaced by a rock structure which served until the county was ready to build the present courthouse in 1929.

       Dr. Ezekiel Keyser Kountz was elected the first county and district clerk in Junction City (the name of the town was shortened to Junction in 1894) and had lumber shipped in from Austin to build the first post office in 1876. What might have otherwise been a very good year had a tragic end when his 16-year-old son, Isaac, was killed by Comanches on Christmas Eve.

       With a growing population and the defeat of Comanches and outlaws, Junction became a more modern, civilized town. Local businessman Ernest Holecamp had a canal dug from the South Llano River to provide water to the city. The following year, work began on the "Four Mile Dam" system to furnish power for mills and mining, to supply water for the city, to irrigate fields and to provide water for livestock. It was completed in 1904, built of native stone and cypress wood, and operated until 1925.

       The telephone arrived in 1905, the first banks in 1906. Automobiles made their Junction debut between 1910 and 1915; the first gas stations appeared in 1916 or 1917. Electricity became available in town in 1917. By the early 1920s, the livery stables had closed, and Junction had graveled its streets and installed electric street lights. Highways were built to neighboring towns during the 1920s, and tourists began coming to Junction to enjoy the scenery and the good hunting. Junction was incorporated as a city in 1927, and Ernest Holecamp was elected the new city's first mayor.

       Although the Great Depression did have some effect on Junction, the population continued to grow, reaching a peak of 5,064 in 1940. Rural electrification finally came to Kimble County farms in 1945, and all the county's highways were paved by the end of the 1940s. The county's economy remains mostly agricultural to this day, but hunting, fishing and other recreational activities attract a growing number of visitors and contribute increasingly to the economy.

       Around the turn of the century, Robert and Virginia Stevenson came to Junction to open a small store. They brought with them their son, Coke, who would eventually become Junction's all-time greatest citizen. Coke went into business at age 16, hauling freight between Junction and Brady. His formal schooling included only seven three-month semesters, but he studied history and bookkeeping by the light of his campfires, and soon was doing the bookkeeping for the Junction State Bank. He studied law at night, passing the state bar exam in 1913 (at the age of 25).

     He left the Junction State Bank to practice law, but soon organized the First National Bank in Junction and served as its president. He became involved in several other businesses in town, then served as county attorney from 1914 to 1918 and county judge from 1919 to 1921. He was elected to the Texas house of Representatives, and served as Speaker of the House from 1933 to 1937, going on to serve as lieutenant governor 1n 1939 and governor from 1941 to 1947. He was a strong believer in fiscal responsibility, and turned the state's deficit into a surplus without cutting services, taking time along the way to improve education, highways and soil conservation.

        The one election that Coke Stevenson lost was also the one that made him nationally famous. Locked in a close primary race with Lyndon Johnson for the U.S. Senate nomination in 1948, Stevenson was apparently robbed of a narrow victory when late ballot boxes came in favoring Johnson by unbelievable margins. Voting lists were "lost" or burned, and Stevenson's appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court was denied. Johnson, of course, later became president of the United States.

       Junction gained some national notoriety again in 1954, when Texas A&M coach "Bear" Bryant brought his 1-9 team here for a grueling, 10-day football camp at the height of a terrible heat wave. The brutal schedule and the awful conditions gave the survivors of the ordeal a legendary status, especially after his team won the Southwest Conference championship just two years later. The camp was the subject of a book and a movie called "The Junction Boys."

       After years as an adjunct campus for Texas A&M, the site of the "Junction Boys" camp was assigned by the state legislature to Texas Tech in 1971. The center offers regular, full-credit under-graduate and graduate courses in an intensive format over three-week periods. An "inter-session" is held in May, allowing students to earn up to three credits between the spring and summer sessions. These courses generally include art, biology, botany, zoology, geography, education and physical education, and have top priority for campus use.

       In addition to the regular courses, the Texas Tech Center at Junction is used for workshops, retreats, continuing education short courses, and other special activities. It is frequently used by Texas Tech student organizations, faculty groups and researchers. Other universities and colleges, state and federal agencies, professional organizations and foundations regularly schedule events at the center. Also, the center sponsors many special events, such as an annual International Kite Retreat and a Spring Retreat for Art Educators.

       Other Junction attractions include the beautiful South Llano River State Park and the adjoining Walter Buck State Wildlife Area, which together offer camping, hiking, water sports and fishing. They are famed for the large population of wild turkeys, and provide a wonderful place for birdwatching or nature and wildlife photography.

       Junction combines all the virtues of small-town America with spectacular scenery and a unique "Wild West" atmosphere. From the rocky bluffs which surround the city to the old-fashioned architecture, to the friendliness of the people, to the emphasis on nature and agriculture, you'll be instantly aware that there is something special about this little Hill Country town at the center of "The Land of Living Waters."

By John Hallowell   Mon, Feb 07, 2011

       Rocksprings is a wonderful little town on the western edge of our Texas Hill Country map. Established a little later than most Hill Country towns, and without ever attracting too much attention, Rocksprings has matured into the prototypical rural county seat, with little traffic, friendly people and buildings from a mostly-bygone era.

       The "rock springs" which give the town its name (it used to be two words, but was changed to one word in 1897) were well known to travelers, freighters, cattlemen and outlaws for years before the town was founded. W.J. Greer set up a sheep camp in the area in 1882; Francis Winan established a cattle and sheep ranch in 1884, and A.O. Burr began farming nearby in 1885.

       But the actual town came to be when J.R. Sweeten dug a well in 1889 to serve new settlers. In 1891, he began selling lots, and soon there were enough residents to open a post office and become the new county seat. The courthouse was built later that year.

       By 1892, Rocksprings had 250 residents, including a blacksmith, a doctor, a real estate agent, a druggist and two lawyers. There was a hotel, a general store and two saloons. that year, Mr. Sweeten donated two acres of land for a community cemetery. In 1895, the county contracted for the building of a jail on the corner of the square (it's still there).

       A fire gutted the courthouse in 1897, but the county rebuilt the damaged building. Also that year, the official name of the town was changed from Rock Springs to Rocksprings. In 1898, the Rocksprings Telephone company was formed. The town garnered some unflattering publicity in 1910, when a murder suspect named Antonio Rodriguez was lynched, but the little town continued to grow, and by 1914, the population had reached 500. By then, the town also had its first bank; the new Gilmer Hotel was built in 1916.

       Disaster struck the thriving little town in 1927 in the form of a devastating tornado. Seventy-two people were killed, making it the third-most deadly storm in Texas history, and more than 200 were injured as the tornado destroyed 235 of the 247 buildings in the town at the time. The courthouse and the Gilmer Hotel  were damaged, but remained standing; both buildings served as shelters for those whose homes had been destroyed. Even so, the population reached nearly 1,000 by 1931.

       Edwards County had become the world's leading producer of mohair by 1940, and while the demand for mohair has weakened in recent years, sheep and angora goats are still very important to the area's economy. The Angora Goat Breeders Association Museum and the Texas Mohair Weekly are both located in Rocksprings, and each May, the town celebrates its #1 status in a ""Top-o-the-World" festival to honor mohair and wool producers.

       Hunting, fishing and eco-tourism have become very important to the town's economy, and the amazing "Devil's sinkhole" is the leading local attraction. A bus takes visitors seven miles north from the Visitors Center on the square for guided tours of the natural phenomenon, a cave descending 150 feet in a sheer drop. The state of Texas has purchased 40,000 acres around the sinkhole for a wildlife preserve; the recently-opened Kickapoo Caverns State Park is another attraction, located on the southern edge of Edwards County. the courthouse is on the state list for renovation through the Historic Courthouse Preservation Program. There are several interesting places on the square in addition to the Visitors Center, including Rocksprings Gallery, the Texas Miniature Museum and the Historic Rocksprings Hotel (formerly the Gilmer Hotel). There are several options for dining, lodging and shopping.

By John Hallowell   Mon, Feb 07, 2011

       The architecture is a dead giveaway; it takes barely a momentary glance to realize that there is something different and special about the little town of Castroville (on the southern edge of the Texas Hill Country, just west of San Antonio). To understand it better, and appreciate it more, a short history lesson is in order.

       Five years after it had won its independence, the fledgling Republic of Texas was in grave danger and deeply in debt; Texian leaders looked to the United States and several European countries for aid, and many ambitious plans were discussed. One of the few plans which actually yielded timely results was that of Henri Castro, a descendant of Portuguese Jews who had become an influential banker in France. In 1842, he entered a contract with the Texan government to settle a colony in southwestern Texas, and at great personal expense managed to bring several hundred immigrants from the French province of Alsace.

        It is helpful to understand that Europe was in a period of much political and economic turmoil during the 1840s, and tales of freedom and opportunity in Texas resonated with many in Germany, France and Scandinavia. There was no shortage of potential immigrants, but there were very few with the means and know-how to successfully manage a mass migration. Henri Castro was one of the very few. Before Texas joined the United States in 1845, and before the German Adelsverein landed its first settlers at Indianola, Henri Castro had successfully founded the westernmost settlement in Texas and was preparing to build four more towns in the next four years. All together, he brought 485 families and 457 single men to his colony, spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to provide for the success of his endeavor. The town of Castroville remains a monument to his wisdom and generosity.

       It was September 2, 1844, when Castro first set out from San Antonio with Captain Jack Hays and five Texas Rangers, to choose a spot for his first town. He designed a village in a park-like area near a bend in the Medina River, similar to villages in Europe, with town lots surrounded by outlying farms. His Alsatian pioneers built houses in the "fachwerk" style of the "old country," using native stone, timber and lime plaster. Many buildings from Castroville's first decade still remain today. Life wasn't easy for the new Texans; they endured Comanche and Mexican raids, droughts, locusts  and a cholera epidemic during their first few years, but Henri Castro took good care of his colonists, and they had it much better than the German pioneers who followed.

       The cornerstone for the first St. Louis Catholic Church was laid shortly after the town's founding, in the fall of1844. Castroville got a post office in January of 1847; by that time, Castro had built the new towns of Quihi (1845), Vandenburg (1846) and New Fountain (also in 1846). The original settlement of D'Hanis would be built farther west in 1848. Medina County was formed, with Castroville as its seat, in 1848; by 1850, Castroville was an important commercial center, with a population of 366. By 1856, the town supported three large stores, a brewery, and a water-powered gristmill. Residents raised corn, cattle, horses, hogs, and poultry, and sold produce to the military posts in the area

       Although Castroville's citizens were mostly opposed to secession, the town prospered through trade with Mexico during the Civil War. It continued to grow when the war was over, and by 1884 had reached a population of 1,000.That growth slowed in the 1880s when the town refused to grant the railroad a bonus, and was bypassed when Southern Pacific extended its line to the west. The new town of Hondo replaced Castroville as county seat in 1892, and the town began a long decline.

       Castroville reached a low point in 1931, when the population fell to just 325 people, mostly German farmers. Since then, Castroville has seen steady growth, and its population today is nearly 3,000. While few of the original Alsatian families remain, the historic homes that they built are carefully protected; there are more than 300 historic buildings in Castroville, and many are from the first decade of Castroville's existence. One of Castroville's biggest attractions today is a self-guided "Historic Walking Tour," which includes a map with historical information about the unique Alsatian buildings in the old downtown area.

       Another of Castroville's attractions is the Landmark Inn, a riverside complex which began with a one-story home and dry goods store built by Swiss merchant Cesar Monod in 1849. Through the years, the complex grew to include a hotel, a bathhouse, a gristmill and a private residence. It was donated to the state of Texas in 1974 and opened to the public as a state historic site in 1981. It offers bed-and-breakfast lodgings and a store, as well as tours of the old mill and other buildings, and access to the five-acre grounds.

       In recent years, Castroville's heritage (Castroville's nickname is "The Little Alsace of Texas") has led to an unusual bond with the people of the original ("Big") Alsace, in France. In 1997, a group of students from the agricultural college in Rouffach, France, came to Castroville to lay out a unique "Garden of Roots" in the shape of a map of Alsace at Castroville's Regional Park. A tree was planted to mark the place of each village in Alsace, which all contributed to funding for the trip. That friendly gesture was followed by one even more dramatic; in 1997, a 17th-century Alsatian home from the town of Wahlbach was dismantled and shipped in pieces to Castroville, where (in a four-year project) it was reassembled and beautifully furnished, decorated and landscaped in the authentic Alsatian style by students and volunteer craftsmen from France. It now serves as the headquarters of the Castroville Chamber of Commerce.

       A major event on Castroville's busy social calendar is St. Louis Day, a huge church party featuring BBQ and Alsatian-style sausage held each August since the early 1880s. Thousands of people crowd into Castroville's Koenig Park for the event, which continues to grow in popularity. The third building of the St. Louis Church is another of Castroville's historic treasures; it was built in the late 1860s (but the first church building still stands, just a block away).

       Despite its wealth of historic treasures, Castroville is a thriving, 21st-century community with an abundance of modern amenities. Many of the historic buildings now house modern  businesses, and there is a good number of unique shopping opportunities in Castroville, as well as fine dining and lodging options (Castroville is famous for its Alsatian bakeries). Local parks offer facilities for camping, hiking, swimming and picnicking, as well as courts for volleyball and basketball, and fields for soccer, baseball and softball. Castroville has an excellent library (with many historical resources) and a modern airport; there is also a championship 18-hole golf course at the Alsatian Golf Club, just west of town.

       Castroville is one of the most historically significant towns in Texas, and should be near the beginning of any serious Hill Country tour (especially if you're coming from the logical first stop in San Antonio). For more detailed information, visit www.castroville.com, then make plans to see this delightful Texas town!

By John Hallowell   Thu, Jan 13, 2011

       The City of Brady calls itself the “Heart of Texas,” based on its location, just a few miles from the geographical center of Texas. From what I observed during my thoroughly enjoyable “research” for this story, this little town deserves the label in a totally different sense: the history of the town and the accomplishments of its people epitomize the “heart” of Texas.

       Brady is on the western edge of our Hill Country map, far enough from any of the state’s major cities to stand on its own as a self-sufficient (albeit small) city. It serves as a commercial center for several surrounding counties. Its situation seems to have fostered a spirit of independence and self-reliance that has encouraged extraordinary achievements from many of its citizens.

       Brady was not one of the Hill Country’s earliest settlements, although there were a few pioneers in the area during the 1850s and McCulloch County (named for Indian fighter, Texas Ranger and Confederate general Ben McCulloch) was formed in 1856. The population of McCulloch County in the 1870 census was 173 (not counting Comanches; the area was inhabited for centuries and “McCulloch County is absolutely covered with Indian artifacts,” according to former museum president Bert Striegler) and extensive settlement of the county did not begin until the 1870s. Brady itself was named county seat in 1876.

       The new town was called “Brady City” after Peter Rainsford Brady, who had accompanied a surveying party in 1847, and whose name had already been assigned to the creek running through the town site. Peter Brady served in the U.S. Navy and Army, worked as a surveyor, then joined the Texas Rangers before eventually settling in Arizona. He retired from his distinguished career in 1898 as the oldest member of the Arizona Territorial legislature.

       The economy of early McCulloch County was almost entirely agricultural, and several communities flourished as business and social centers for local farmers and ranchers. In 1880, the census reported 1,553 citizens, with 12,437 sheep, 12,264 cattle and 1,144 hogs on 87 farms. The population more than doubled during the 1880s (to 3,217 in 1890), and a new courthouse was built (at the cost of $33,000!) in 1900, but it was the arrival of the railroad in 1903 that brought real growth and prosperity to Brady, Texas.

      Brady was incorporated as a city in 1906, as the economy boomed. Cotton and poultry became major industries, as the number of farms passed 1,500, and cattle production continued to grow. The county’s population more than tripled (to 13,405) during the first decade of the twentieth century, and the city grew to a population of 2,669. Retail business boomed and banks were formed as the city became a major commercial center for the area. Perhaps in deference to the problems which often accompany such rapid growth, the county built a new jail in 1910. (but it was one of the fanciest jails ever; the striking building serves now as the Heart of Texas Historical Museum.)

       During the 1920s, McCulloch County billed itself as the “Turkey Center of the Universe,” and attracted national attention by driving huge flocks of the domesticated birds around the square in an annual “Turkey Trot.” In the meantime, wool and mohair became a major source of income.

       While the Great Depression forced some county residents to give up their farms and move away, the city itself continued to grow. In 1940, Mayor Harry L. Curtis proposed a site north of town (now Curtis Field, the municipal airport) as a training field for the air force. As many as 500 students were enrolled at a time, and some 10,000 pilots graduated between 1941 and 1945. As the war progressed, Brady also became the site for a 200-building prisoner-of-war camp, and nearly 3,000 “trouble-makers” (many of them SS or Gestapo) from camps across the country were interred here.

       Brady produced many outstanding achievers during the early years of heady growth. Perhaps the most notable of these was G. Rollie White, whose parents came to Brady from Missouri in a covered wagon in 1875, before he was even one year old. White made his first cattle drive in 1887, when he was 12 years old. He started gathering steers when he was barely a teen-ager, and sold his first herd for $600 when he was just 16. After graduating from Texas A&M with an engineering degree in 1895, he went into the cattle business with his father. He was amazingly successful!

       Buying thousands of acres of land at prices as low as $1 per acre, White soon became known as the “Steer King of Texas.” At one time, he and his father were running 35,000 steers, 85,000 sheep and 20,000 goats in five counties. They also owned rangeland in Oklahoma and Kansas.

      White and a partner started Brady’s first water and light company around 1900, but sold it to the city after just a few years. “We were in the cattle business,” White recalled. “I didn’t like the water and light business.” He launched the Commercial National Bank in Brady around 1907. In 1926, Governor Dan Moody appointed White to the board of directors at Texas A&M; he served as a director until 1944, when he became president of the board, a position he held until 1955. In 1954, A&M named their largest building the G. Rollie White Coliseum. A dormitory building also bears his name.

       G. Rollie White loved race horses, and his horses have run on major tracks all over the country. He helped finance the race course in Brady, which is known as the G. Rollie White Complex. It provides the city with an excellent venue for rodeos, stock shows and other events.

       James Earl Rudder was another local hero. He was born in Eden (just west of Brady) in 1910, and he also graduated from Texas A&M (in 1932). After graduation, he became a teacher and football coach at Brady High School, as well as accepting a commission as second lieutenant in the Army Reserve. When the U.S. entered World War II, he was called to active duty, and  became one of the most decorated soldiers of the war. His most famous exploit was the capture of Pointe du Hoc on D-Day, when he led his Second Ranger Battalion in storming the beach and scaling 100-foot cliffs, under heavy fire, to silence the strategic German gun batteries. The casualty rate was more than 50 percent, and Rudder himself was wounded twice, but his Rangers won the battle and held off fierce counter-attacks to establish a beachhead for the Allies.

       Rudder eventually rose to the rank of major general. In the meantime, he served as mayor of Brady, state land commissioner, and president of Texas A&M. In 1967, he was given the nation’s highest peacetime service award, the Distinguished Service Medal, by President Lyndon B. Johnson.

       More recently, the Hurd family has distinguished itself. Descendants of a Swedish immigrant with an unpronounceable name (shortened to Dan Hurd), the family settled in East Sweden (just east of Brady) and became solid Texans, participating in cattle drives, etc. Two of Dan’s grandsons, cousins Wayne and Norman Hurd, capped successful real estate careers by developing the world-class resort of Horseshoe Bay, on Lake LBJ in Llano County. Norman’s sister, Francis Hurd King was an accomplished painter and sculptor, who until quite recently ran a gallery in the renovated railroad depot when she was not displaying her art at Santa Fe or Taos, New Mexico. None of these local achievers was born to money; each showed an impressive combination of dreams and determination.

      I.G. Evridge came to Brady in 1932 at the age of 18 and worked as the manager of Perry Brothers until 1937, when he opened Evridge’s 5 & 10 store in a storefront purchased from the aforementioned James Earl Rudder.  In 1940, I.G. met and married Claire Carter; the couple had four children ( Joe, Susan, Mary, and Grant).  While I.G. served in the U.S. Army during World War II, Claire ran the business. The Evridges added an appliance store to the operation in 1952, and by 1955, they closed the 5 & 10 store to concentrate on the appliance business. All four of their children went off to college, but all returned, with fresh ideas, to join the family business. New departments were added, and more buildings were purchased to house the expanding business. The Evridge’s now own twelve buildings on the Brady square, and their amazingly eclectic department store occupies six adjoining buildings. Shopping here is an adventure!

      The Ricks family is another with a long tradition as forward-thinking merchants in Brady. A.J. and Eva Virginia Ricks opened a small service shop for radios, refrigerators and electrical appliances in the pre-television days of 1935. Their business prospered, and sonn they were selling appliances and furniture on the square. They even ventured into the automobile business, selling Chevrolets for a few years in the 1950s before deciding to focus on furniture and appliances. They built a new store ten blocks south of the square in 1967, but outgrew that within three years and built an innovative multi-level warehouse in 1970 which won Mr. Ricks recognition from national furniture publications. He was elected president of the Southwest Home Furnishings International Association in the early 1970s, and traveled the world extensively as an industry representative. His grandson, Jim, carries on the Ricks tradition today.

       For a city of only 6,000 people, Brady offers an amazingly wide array of goods and services (including excellent lodgings and plenty of good restaurants). But there’s a lot more to the city than just shopping. Two of the most intriguing places to visit are museums: the fine historical museum in the old jail just west of the square, and a unique museum dedicated to memorabilia of country and western music. The Heart of Texas Country Music Hall of Fame is the brainchild of local DJ and country music promoter Tracy Pitcox (see “Country Classics live on in Brady,” Summer 2005), who has collected many items with historical significance to country music fans. The most striking is a 1950s-era tour bus that belonged to Jim Reeves! Other items include autographed instruments, posters, hats and costumes from the golden age of country, most donated by the stars themselves.

       There’s Brady Lake, where more than 100 racing boats compete in the Heart of Texas Thunder Drag Boat Races each summer.

       If you enjoy golf, Brady has a fine, 9-hole municipal golf course, just west of town. For shooting sports, there’s the Kenneth Madlock Gun Range at Brady Lake. (Incidentally, that’s the site of the Texas Muzzle Loaders Championship Shoot, where 150 enthusiasts from all around Texas compete for the state crown in June.)

       The McCulloch County July Jubilee includes a parade from Richards Park to the Courthouse Square, a street dance, free watermelon feast, a concert by the Heart o' Texas Jubilee Band at Brady Lake pavilion and a gigantic fireworks display at Brady Lake.

        Then there’s Richards Park, a city-owned facility featuring 150 primitive camp sites plus 45 full hook-ups for RVs.  It has numerous baseball fields, a soccer field and a playground available. That’s where Brady holds its annual World Championship Goat Cook-off  each Labor Day weekend.  This spectacular event includes Arts & Crafts exhibits, kids games, horseshoe and washer pitching, and many other activities. It attracts more than 125 cooking teams from across North America. 

       Hunting  is a big deal in McCulloch County; there are seasonal opportunities for hunting whitetail deer, Rio Grande turkey, doves, quail as well as year-round hunting for feral hogs and various exotics.  Call the Chamber of Commerce at 325-597-3491 to confirm dates and details or visit this website: www.bradytx.com.

       Whatever your interests, there will be plenty of good reasons to visit Brady. And if you enjoy exploring Texas, you really need to visit its "heart."

By John Hallowell   Wed, Jan 12, 2011

       The "River Region" is a name applied to the area to the north of Uvalde, where the Nueces, Frio, and Sabinal Rivers meander through some of the most spectacular scenery of the Texas Hill Country. Not only is the area perfect for water sports; it is considered one of the best places anywhere for bird-watchers and other nature aficionados. The main communities in the River Region are Concan, Utopia, Rio Frio, Vanderpool, Reagan Wells, Leakey and Camp Wood.

       It wasn't too long ago that this was one of the most dangerous areas in the west, and a common sight in the old graveyards is a tombstone marked "killed by Indians." After the lowlands had been largely pacified, and the eastern half of the Hill Country was settled, the rugged hills and canyons of the River Region were havens for fierce Comanche warriors. And even when the Comanches had all been banished to reservations, the nearly-impassable terrain kept the area largely unspoiled. It remains that way to this day.

       While a few intrepid explorers had ventured into the region as early as the 18th century (the Spanish built a mission near present-day Camp Wood in 1762, and Governor Juan de Ugalde defeated the Lipan Apaches in a pitched battle near present-day Utopia in 1790; Captain Jack Hays fought the Comanches here in 1844), the first settler was probably Captain William Ware (1800-1853). Ware fought for Texas Independence at the siege of Bexar and the battle of San Jacinto. During his military service, he saw the Sabinal Canyon and decided to bring his family here to settle in 1852.  Unfortunately, just a few months after building his cabin he became ill and died. His burial in March 1853 on his property was the beginning of the Waresville Cemetery.

       In 1856, John and Nancy Leakey moved with five other new settlers to a site about forty miles north of the new town of Uvalde, where they began a cypress shingle business.

       In 1857, the U.S. Army set up a fort named Camp Wood, to protect the San Antonio-El Paso route and the Rio Grande valley from Indian raids. The camp was located near the old ruins of the San Lorenzo de la Santa Cruz Mission, which had been abandoned by the Spanish in 1771.

       The Civil War began in 1861. Camp Wood was abandoned to the Confederate Army; a soldier from Marshall described the eight-day march from San Antonio and expressed his pleasure with the situation at camp Wood. "We are very much pleased with its appearance," he wrote, describing "mountains in the rear," and "a fine spring." There was also "a nice, comfortable house for the officers and a good commissary building." He told how the soldiers pitched tents to sleep in, and went "splashing, dashing, diving and swimming" in the clear, cool waters of the Nueces River. It was, he wrote, "thirty to forty feet deep in spots, and up to 150 yards wide." In other places quite close by, it would be shallow enough to walk across on sand or rocks.

       John Leakey and others joined the Confederate war effort (Leakey transported supplies for the army), and Comanche braves seized the opportunity to redouble their raids in the area. The now-famous Frio Bat Cave became a munitions factory, as tons of guano were dried in kilns at the mouth of the cave to make gunpowder for the Confederates. Even after the Civil War was over, the River Region was a very dangerous (and sparsely settled) place. The last major battle occurred in 1882, about seven miles north of Leakey.

       In the meantime, a man named Theophilus Watkins settled in the Frio Canyon, in what later became the southern edge of Real County, where he saw the possibilities for an irrigation system with water from the Frio River. In 1868, together with F. Smith and Newman Patterson, he constructed a gravity canal ten miles long from the main Frio River. The "ditch" was fully operational by 1875, and enabled local farmers to irrigate fields of cotton, corn, oats, tobacco, and wheat. A post office was established in "Rio Frio" in 1874. Watkins died in 1883, and was buried in the cemetery at Rio Frio.

       By that time, a small community grew up around the original cabin built by Captain Ware. In 1880, the settlement boasted a cotton gin, a gristmill, a sawmill, two flour mills, two churches, homes and a school. In 1886 Waresville was renamed Utopia for its location and climate.

     Concan was awarded a post office in 1880, and J. A. Robinson became the first postmaster there. By 1884, it had grown to an estimated 150 residents, and a blacksmith shop had been established. Wool and beef were transported from the town to the nearest railroad station at Uvalde. In 1890, about 100 people lived in Concan, and the community had a cotton gin, a blacksmith, and a wagonmaker. The town declined in the early 1890s, however. Its post office was discontinued in 1894 and was not reopened until 1900, when John S. Caddel and his brother began operating a store there.

       In 1883 A. G. Vogel moved a post office to the settlement from Floral, two miles north, and opened the first store in a town named for John Leakey (who donated land for a courthouse, school, church and cemetery) in 1884, it became the county seat of Edwards County, and a saw and grist mill were built there in 1885. Leakey remained county seat until 1891, when the government was moved to Rocksprings. John Leakey died in 1900; when Real County was organized in 1913, Leakey was chosen as county seat, even though the town was not incorporated until June 11, 1951.

       Camp Wood was used intermittently by the Texas rangers for several years, but there was not a real town at the site of the old fort until 1920, when Camp Wood became the northern terminus of the Uvalde and Northern Railroad, and the townsite was formally laid out. During the 1920s the settlement rapidly developed into a prosperous community, with cedar logs being the main industry; the post office was established in November of 1921, and the town was incorporated in 1936. Unfortunately, the Depression and the depletion of the region's cedar curtailed development; the Uvalde and Northern ceased operation in the early 1940s, and ranching (in particular the raising of Angora goats) replaced cedar as the principal industry. Tourism and hunting assumed increasing importance in the local economy.

       As a matter of fact, tourism was becoming a source of income for the whole River Region as early as the late 1880s, when John Reagan built a two-story hotel in a small settlement (now called Reagan Wells) near some wells which supplied "mineral water" deemed to be healthful. The mineral baths flourished until the middle of the 20th century. In 1920, the Alto Frio Baptist Encampment was built on the Frio River near Leakey. Neal's Lodges was founded in Concan by rancher Tom Neal in 1926, and continued to grow through the 20th century. When their swimming hole was named the "Best in Texas" by Texas Highways magazine in the early '70s, Concan became a popular vacation spot for tourists from all around Texas.

       In a remarkable 1924 incident of historic import, Camp Wood had a close encounter with famous aviator Charles Lindbergh when he made an unplanned stop there three years before his solo flight from New York to Paris. Lindbergh, then waiting to enter Brooks Field at San Antonio as a United States Air Service cadet, was attempting to fly to California with a friend, Leon Klink, and followed the Uvalde and Northern railroad up the Nueces River, mistaking it for the Southern Pacific along the Rio Grande. When the line ended at the recently established cedar town, Lindbergh realized his error and landed on the main street in Camp Wood. When he attempted to take off, he hit a telephone pole with a wing, and crashed into the paint section of Walter Pruett's hardware store. The two fliers remained in Camp Wood for several days, awaiting parts and making repairs, and their visit and the circumstances surrounding it were still vividly recalled and related over half a century later. In 1976 the town of Camp Wood renamed a park and a street after Lindbergh and Klink respectively, and the state placed a historical marker celebrating the event.

       Kenneth and Barbara Arthur were homebuilders from Uvalde who moved to Concan in the late 1970s. They built a store in 1980, then started building vacation cabins at their new Frio Country Resort in 1982. In 1998, they bought an 800-acre ranch, on which they first established a great restaurant and music venue (the House Pasture Cattle Co.), then a first-class 18-hole golf course and spa (Concan Country Club).

       While none of the River Region communities has even a thousand year-round residents (Camp Wood is the largest, with nearly 850), there are a multitude of campgrounds, cabins, and lodges along the rivers, which swell the area's population dramatically during the summer tourist season. Garner State Park is the most popular of all the state parks in Texas, and Lost Maples State Natural Area is another immensely popular destination in the River Region. Vanderpool (originally called Bugscuffle) is a tiny community near Lost Maples State Natural Area; it is home to the Lone Star Motorcycle Museum, which features over 50 classic motorcycles from 1910 to the modern era. The area is very popular with birdwatchers, as well; Concan hosts Nature Quest events each spring and fall, and Hill Country Adventures, run by Anthony and LeAnn Sharp in Rio Frio, offers year-round nature tours, including some of the state's biggest trees, and the amazing Frio Bat Cave. For history buffs, Leakey and Utopia have quality museums; Camp Wood has an assortment of unique shops in its "old west" downtown area. Each of the towns has quality restaurants; standouts are the historic Frio Canyon Lodge in Leakey and the Laurel Tree (Saturdays only) in Utopia.

By John Hallowell   Sun, Jan 09, 2011

       Uvalde is a legendary "Wild West" town at the southwest corner of our Hill Country  map. Known mostly for its outlaws during the early years, Uvalde produced several much-more-positive role models during the 20th century.

       The Uvalde area's recorded history began largely with the establishment of San Antonio in 1718; from that time on, the region was crossed frequently by Spanish soldiers, traders, hunters and prospectors. A mission (Nuestra Senora de la Candelaria) was established in 1762, about thirty miles northwest of present-day Uvalde; while it lasted only about five years before it was abandoned due to attacks by Comanches, Governor Juan de Ugalde defeated an army of Apaches near the site of modern-day Utopia (northeast of Uvalde) in 1790. The Sabinal Canyon was then known as the Canon de Ugalde. In 1849 (after Texas had joined the United States), a trail through the area to El Paso was marked by famous scout Jose Policarpo "Polly" Rodriguez, and Fort Inge was built a mile south of the current city center to protect settlers from Indian attacks.

       One of the very few settlers then living west of Castroville (founded in 1844, a few miles west of San Antonio) was a rugged veteran of the Mexican War named Edward Dixon Westfall. He had built a cabin on the banks of the Leona River, and lived there with only his dogs for company; when the fort was built, he hired on as a scout for the U.S. Army. In 1853, a 23-year-old man named Reading W. Black purchased 4,650 acres (at 50 cents an acre) and built himself a home about a mile north of the fort. In 1855, he hired a surveyor from San Antonio to lay out an impressive city (which he first called Encina) on his piece of the wild, wild west.

       The dubious surveyor, C.A. Thielpape, followed Black's directions and surveyed four plazas and 100-foot-wide streets at the "city center." A few more settlers arrived, and soon there was a store, a blacksmith shop and a grist mill. In 1856, a new county was formed; the town's name was changed to Uvalde (a corruption of Ugalde, the name of the heroic governor from the previous century) and it became the county seat of the new Uvalde County. A post office opened in 1857.

       For the next three decades, Uvalde was one of the wildest and most lawless of all the western towns. Comanche attacks killed many of the early settlers, and the surrounding area became a haven for outlaws. Intermittent battles with Mexico added to the dangers, and the abandonment of Fort Inge during the Civil War led to a redoubling of Comanche raids.

       A Confederate soldier named W.W. Hartsell described a five-day march from San Antonio to Uvalde in 1861, and remarked that Uvalde was "a rather desolate-looking place. A courthouse, blacksmith shop, a grocery store and half a dozen dwellings constitute the county seat." (The gristmill was a short distance upstream.)

       Uvalde County voters had opposed secession by a 76-16 margin, and bitterness between Union and Confederate sympathizers continued long after the war was over. Reading Black, the town's founder and a representative in the Texas legislature, was assassinated in 1867. The tax assessor and collector were protected by armed guards, and the county was without a sheriff for two years; the acting sheriff in 1873 was none other than the murderous outlaw, King Fisher. Louis L'Amour chose Uvalde for the opening scene in his novel, Sackett, where Tell Sackett shoots a card shark some time shortly after the Civil War, and has to leave town.

       Uvalde acquired a link with the civilized world in 1881, when the Galveston, Harrisburg and San Antonio Railway came through, and the town began a period of rapid growth. By 1888, the city of Uvalde was incorporated, and by 1890, the census counted 2,000 inhabitants. That was the year that a young lawyer named John Nance Garner arrived in Uvalde; he ran for the office of county judge in 1893 against a rancher's daughter named Mariette Rheiner. The political opponents fell in love, and were married in 1895!

       The next 30 years were good for Garner and for Uvalde. Garner was elected to the U.S. Congress in 1903 and worked his way up to Speaker of the House in 1931; he was considered as a leading candidate for president in 1932, but supported Franklin D. Roosevelt and became one of the chief architects of the New Deal as Roosevelt's vice-president. In the meantime, Uvalde grew into a prosperous regional center. Railroads were built from Uvalde to Crystal City (in 1911) and to Camp Wood (in 1921); by 1940, the population was over 5,000, and Uvalde had 200 businesses, plus multiple churches, beautiful neighborhoods, large hotels, an excellent school system, a beautiful opera house and a large, modern fairground which included a race track and stables. Tourism had become an important industry, and Garner State Park opened 26 miles north of Uvalde in 1941, the same year that Garner Army Air Field opened in Uvalde.

       Uvalde still had its rough edges, even as it grew and prospered. A young man named Willis Newton robbed a train in Uvalde in 1914, on his way to becoming the leader of the legendary "Newton Boys" bank robber gang. He and his younger brother, Joe, retired to Uvalde in the 1940s. But Uvalde by then was an established, respectable town, and the Newtons' notoriety only added to its prestige. the economy was mostly agricultural; Uvalde produced mohair, pecans, honey and many other crops. There were also several mines and a fish hatchery in Uvalde County. Southwest Texas Junior College was established in Uvalde in 1946.

       Uvalde continued to grow through the second half of the 20th century, and one of those who helped lead that growth was Dolph Briscoe, a Uvalde High School valedictorian who went on to become governor of Texas from 1973 to 1979. Governor Briscoe was a hugely successful rancher and businessman who became the largest individual landowner in the state of Texas and who also served as chairman of the board for the First state Bank of Uvalde. His philanthropic work included the renovation of Uvalde's Grand Opera House, and many other local projects.

       Two other celebrities who were born in Uvalde are the late singer/actress Dale Evans and the current movie actor Matthew McConaughey, who played the part of Willis Newton in the 1998 movie, "The Newton Boys."

       Uvalde today is a vibrant, prosperous community of more than 15,000 residents. With a great variety of shopping, dining and lodging options, plus a number of museums and recreational opportunities, Uvalde makes a great "home base" for numerous day trips in each direction. Just to the north and west are some of the most scenic spots in Texas, including Garner State Park, Lost Maples State Natural Area, Kickapoo Caverns State Natural Area and a number of sparkling rivers and quaint Hill Country towns. To the south and west are the National Fish Hatchery, Cook's Slough Sanctuary and Nature Park, Fort Inge, Fort Clark and John Wayne's Alamo Village at Brackettville. All around Uvalde are wonderful places for hunting, horseback riding, bird watching, tubing, or just enjoying the spectacular scenery.

       One of the most unique attractions in Uvalde is the Sahawe Indian Outdoor Theater, home of the amazing Boy Scout and Girl Scout group known as the Sahawe Indian Dancers. These youngsters have become Uvalde's favorite goodwill ambassadors, as they take their authentically detailed costumes and choreographed dances all around Texas in a 60-year tradition of excellence. Other highlights are the Briscoe Art & Antique Collection, the Aviation Museum at Garner field, the Janey Slaughter Briscoe Grand Opera House, the John Nance Garner Museum and the 18-hole Uvalde Memorial Golf Course. For more information, visit the Uvalde Chamber of Commerce at www.visituvalde.com.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Oct 21, 2010

        No town embodies the spirit of the Texas Hill Country better than Fredericksburg. Its amazing history and vibrant personality make Fredericksburg the Hill Country’s most popular tourist destination, and while we always encourage visitors to explore the entire Hill Country, Fredericksburg would be our choice if we could visit only one town.

       Fredericksburg was founded quite abruptly on May 8, 1846 by a group of German immigrants who understood little of the tremendous adversity they faced. Their courage, ingenuity and determination have tremendously impacted the entire Hill Country, and we all still benefit from the ripple effects of their success. This short article won’t do justice to the brave men and women who worked so hard and accomplished so much; we urge everyone to study Fredericksburg’s history more thoroughly elsewhere.

      After Texas gained its independence from Mexico in 1836, reports spread around America and Europe of its beauty, its good climate, abundant wildlife, vast expanses of fertile land – and true freedom for its inhabitants. The dream proved irresistible for thousands, and the population of eastern Texas surged. But the rugged terrain and fierce Comanche residents kept pioneers out of the Hill Country for another decade, and Texas became the 28^th state in the U.S.A. on December 29, 1845, before there was any major settlement in the Hill Country. In the meantime, Germany was undergoing a turbulent period of famine and political unrest in the early 1840s, and a group of 21 noblemen founded the Society for the Protection of German Immigrants in Texas (or Adelsverein) to promote German settlements in Texas. The Adelsverein offered transportation to Texas, 320 acres of land per family, a good log house, financing for the first year’s expenses and a complete system of utilities for each settlement: gins, mills, hospitals, churches, orphanages and asylums. The promises sounded good to Germans from all walks of life, and hundreds of families embarked on a journey to the new world.

       Sometimes the best-laid plans go wrong, and these were not the best-laid plans. Settlers landed in Texas in 1844 to find inadequate shelter, bad weather, rampant disease, a war brewing with Mexico, and (because their land grant had not yet been surveyed) nowhere to go.

       The Society’s first general commissioner, Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels, was able to purchase 1,300 acres at the site of present-day New Braunfels, and the first colonists arrived there on March 21, 1845. Meanwhile, on February 28, a new general commissioner was appointed: Baron Otfried Hans von Meusebach, better known as John O. Meusebach (his “American” name). Meusebach ran the Society for only two years, but his wise and strong leadership during that critical time has made him one of the Hill Country’s greatest heroes.

       It was John O. Meusebach who obtained the funds to continue the financially-strapped Adelsverein, and Muesebach who scouted the Pedernales River Valley to find what newspapers called “one of the most fertile, healthy and beautiful sections of the West." He bought around ten thousand acres on credit, and began to organize a westward migration.

       The eighty-mile trip from New Braunfels to Fredericksburg takes just an hour and a half on good highways today, but it took sixteen days for the first wagon train to cover the distance. About 120 settlers, accompanied by eight Society soldiers, arrived at their new home on a Friday evening, May 8, 1846. They dined on the meat of a bear and a panther that had been shot along the way, and camped out that night in the raw Hill Country wilderness. The settlers got to work right away, laying out a town resembling German villages along the Rhine and building small homes from post oak logs. Meusebach named the town Fredericksburg after Prince Frederick, a prominent member of the Adelsverein.

       The first public building was the octagonal Vereins Kirche (dedicated May 9, 1847), a combination church, school and fort in the middle of the town. Before most other Hill Country towns were even thought of, Fredericksburg was a thriving town of more than a thousand inhabitants.

       Early settlers made a fascinating discovery. On top of a hill just north of town, they found a large wooden cross, apparently left by Spanish explorers. A metal cross now stands on the hill, known as Cross Mountain.

       One of Meusebach’s major achievements was the 1847 signing of a peace treaty with the Comanches, whose attacks plagued other settlements along the Texas frontier. Although there were isolated incidents of theft and violence around Fredericksburg, and the danger of attack seemed to justify the building of Fort Martin Scott in 1848, the treaty was never broken by either side, and Fredericksburg was spared from Indian depredations.

       Unfortunately, the treaty could not protect the settlers from disease. As more immigrant trains arrived, they brought with them an epidemic which claimed between 100 and 150 lives that first year. And while the gold rush of 1849 brought economic gains by virtue of trade with California-bound prospectors, it also brought a cholera epidemic which again decimated the town’s population.

       In the meantime, though, Fredericksburg was establishing itself as a center of social, spiritual and commercial life for the whole area. A road linked Fredericksburg with Austin. Churches, schools and commercial buildings (even the hotel later purchased by Charles Nimitz) sprang up along Main Street.

       Dozens of smaller settlements were established around the town; Fort Martin Scott (named for Major Martin Scott, who was killed at the battle of Molina del Rey in 1847) provided a boost for the local economy as well. In 1848, the Texas legislature made Fredericksburg the seat of a new county (named for Captain Robert A Gillespie, another hero of the recent war with Mexico).

       Fredericksburg and Gillespie County continued to prosper through the 1850s, but the rising tension between northern and southern states cast a shadow across the otherwise bright future. There were very few slave-owners in the county (33 slaves were listed in the 1860 census), and sentiment generally favored the Union, but some strongly supported the Confederacy, and the division led to violence; several local Union supporters were murdered, and many more chose to flee to Mexico or simply hid out in the hills. Gillespie County was regarded with suspicion by its pro-Confederate neighbors, and many of those who remained were mistreated and preyed upon.

       Because the settlers in Gillespie County spoke mostly German, they were already a little detached from many of their neighbors. The bad experience of the Civil War years made them withdraw even more, and Fredericksburg remained quite a tight-knit, private community for many years. Several factors caused the “walls” to come down during the ensuing decades.

       The state’s first County Fair (a tradition that continues today) was held in 1881, and friendly visitors came from miles around to enjoy the festivities. The county’s first English-speaking teachers were employed around the turn of the century. Then, in 1913, the San Antonio, Fredericksburg & Northern Railroad came to town. Many Fredericksburg residents identified themselves more as Americans during the two World Wars, where Germany and the U.S. were on opposite sides, and many Gillespie County residents served heroically in the American military. The steadily growing town was gaining fame as a tourist destination, and by the 1940s the language barrier was no longer a problem in Fredericksburg, though many old-timers even today speak English with a distinctive German accent. The recognition of Admiral Chester W. Nimitz as a military hero helped establish Fredericksburg’s reputation as an “All-American” town, and more and more delighted visitors chose to make Fredericksburg their home.

       Fredericksburg’s historic buildings are the most obvious sign of the town’s character, but the people who built them deserve credit for the mettle and substance of the Fredericksburg mystique. One of early Fredericksburg’s leading citizens was Dr. Wilhelm Keidel, who was hired by the Adelsverein to treat settlers, and was elected the first county judge in 1848. He founded the settlement of Pedernales, seven miles southwest of Fredericksburg, where he treated settlers and Indians alike, often without charge. During the Civil War, he refused to take sides, and treated Confederate and Union sympathizers.

       Dr. Keidel’s son, Albert, became a doctor as well, and built a hospital in 1909 that served until the new Hill Country Memorial Hospital was built, and still stands on Main Street in Fredericksburg. His great-grandson, architect Albert Keidel, is generally credited with realizing the potential of Fredericksburg’s historic buildings back in the 1930s and doing beautiful restorations on several while encouraging others to follow suit.

       Charles H. Nimitz, a retired sea captain, bought a four-room hotel on Fredericksburg’s main street in 1855, and built it into a fine hotel, complete with a steamboat-shaped superstructure and a famous Casino Hall that became the center of Fredericksburg’s social life. His grandson became Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, commander-in-chief of American forces in the Pacific, and was chosen to receive the Japanese surrender in 1945. The hotel is now the Nimitz Museum, part of the National Museum of the Pacific War, and one of Fredericksburg’s leading attractions.

       Christian and Phillip Crenwelge fled the draft in Prussia in 1852 and set out for South America. Unable to board their ship, they took a ship to New Orleans the next day. Two years later, in 1854, they arrived in Fredericksburg and wrote to their family back in Prussia of the “rich and wonderful” place they had discovered. Their parents and four younger siblings arrived in Texas the next year, and all became American citizens in 1860. Like “déjà vu all over again,” war overshadowed their new life, and Carl Crenwelge was murdered by Confederate renegades led by J.P. Waldip after hiding in a well to avoid the informal “draft.” (Waldip and his “Haenger Bande” terrorized the town during the Civil War. He and his gang were killed in a shootout at the Nimitz Hotel in 1876.)

       Georg Wilhelm Crenwelge, 19 years old when he arrived, married one of the original settlers, Sophie Campe, who had been six years old when her family followed John O. Meusebach to Fredericksburg in 1846. They bought a town lot on Main Street and built three houses (a log cabin and two rock homes), one of which is still standing near Crenwelge Motor Sales.

       Christian Crenwelge became a cabinetmaker and farmer, and built a home from hand-hewn timbers and native stone on Schubert Street in 1856. In 1872, he purchased the lot across the street at a sheriff’s sale and operated a molasses press. In 1903, he built a charming Victorian “Sunday House,” which serves as a bed-and-breakfast today. He sold both properties after the death of his wife in 1906.

       Ruben Crenwelge opened an automobile and service station and repair shop on the east side of town in 1927. His son, Milton Crenwelge, built the business into Crenwelge Automotive Group, which operates dealerships in Fredericksburg and Kerrville. Milton’s son, Tim, served fourteen years as a city councilman and six years as Fredericksburg’s mayor. The Crenwelge name is on street signs, historical markers and modern businesses.

       German immigrants were the first settlers here, and still form the backbone of the community (Crenwelge Automotive Group still has several employees who speak German, to take care of older customers whose primary language is German). However, other ethnic groups have made increasing contributions to the town’s culture and economy. With the recent closing of Knopp & Metzger’s department store, the oldest retailer in town is the very-Irish-sounding Dooley’s, an old fashioned five-and-dime founded in 1923.

       Interestingly enough, two non-residents contributed greatly to Fredericksburg’s “discovery” as a great place to visit. Lyndon Johnson’s Texas White House was just a few miles down Hwy 290, and a multitude of news reporters came to Fredericksburg between 1963 and 1968 while Johnson was president. Then, in 1971, an athlete/writer/musician/comedian/promoter named John Russell “Hondo” Crouch bought the neighboring town of Luckenbach (with his partner, actor Guich Koock) and proclaimed himself mayor.

      When Willie Nelson sang at the town’s “Great World Fair” in 1973, Luckenbach gained a reputation as a haven for country musicians and fans. A year after Crouch’s death in 1976, Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson memorialized the town with their smash hit song, and thousands of visitors flocked to Luckenbach, discovering Fredericksburg at the same time. Hondo’s daughter, Cris Graham, now runs “Hondo’s,” a restaurant and live music venue on West Main Street in Fredericksburg; his widow, Shatzie, is active in the community and a main supporter of the Pioneer Museum. (If you’d like to learn more about Hondo Crouch, his other daughter, Becky, has written a book called “Hondo, my father.” It is available in local stores and on Amazon.com.)

       Starting sometime in the 1980s, the tourism trade began to make Fredericksburg into a boomtown, and noteworthy newcomers boosted the town’s cultural and artistic community. The Texas Hill Country magazine has featured stories of several Fredericksburg sculptors in past issues: Jonas Perkins is from Chicago, while Johann Eyfells is from Iceland and Dr. Marshall Cunningham is from Louisiana; all have chosen Fredericksburg as their home in recent years, joining noted longtime residents like artist Charles Beckendorf and jewelry-maker Jeep Collins. Many other imaginative newcomers have added their own fascinating businesses to the local economy.

       The historical treasures, modern amenities and beautiful setting make Fredericksburg the Hill Country's most popular attraction. We hope you'll put Fredericksburg at the top of your itinerary!

By John Hallowell   Thu, Oct 07, 2010

IT's BURNET, DURN IT!

by John Hallowell

               Samuel Holland was Burnet’s first permanent settler, just 158 years ago. On July 3, 1848, the former Texas Ranger came to visit his brother-in-law, William B. Covington, at a Ranger encampment a few miles south of present-day Burnet. He liked the surroundings so well that he bought 1280 acres and built a home near Hamilton Creek. In 1849, U.S. Army dragoons built Fort Croghan just to the north of Holland’s property and a few more settlers arrived.

       An offshoot Mormon group led by Lyman Wight arrived in 1850, and built a mill at a waterfall on Hamilton Creek just south of “Holland Springs.” When the Mormons moved on in 1853, they sold the “Mormon Mill” to Noah Smithwick, who used it to grind flour for farmers as far away as Gillespie County

       Two veterans of the Texas Revolution contributed mightily to the growth of the little town, first called Hamilton Valley: Logan Vandeveer was a large and powerful man known for his courage and daring; Peter Kerr was better known for his business acumen. Vandeveer fought the Indians and supplied the fort (named for Colonel George Croghan, a hero in the War of 1812) with beef and other staples. Kerr bought the land which would eventually become Burnet, leasing the fort to the U.S. government and donating 100 acres to the newly-formed Burnet County in 1853 to make Hamilton Valley the county seat. Vandeveer was the town’s first postmaster and built the first rock building in 1854. Kerr won fame as a benefactor to the poor, allowing neighbors to milk the cows in his immense herd of cattle without any charge. Both men have streets named after them in the town that they helped establish.

       Because of confusion with other towns named Hamilton, townsfolk changed the name of their community to Burnet (named for David G. Burnet, first president of the Republic of Texas) in 1858.

       In 1854, a young Kentucky native named Adam Johnson arrived in Burnet County to seek his fortune as a surveyor. He explored all of Central Texas, but settled in Hamilton Valley, building a mansion by Hamilton Creek in 1960 for his young bride, Josephine Eastland. Although he was blinded by a musket ball during the Civil War, Johnson would be one of the major forces in Burnet County’s development. He led cattle drives to raise cash, organized “Minute Men” to defend against the frequent Indian attacks, built a store and a school for the impoverished community, and donated land to help bring the railroad to Burnet in 1882.

       It was the railroad’s arrival that turned Burnet into a boomtown in the 1880s. Ox-carts hauled loads from the Burnet depot to towns all across the Hill Country, and hotels, shops, houses and saloons sprang up along Burnet’s busy streets. Although things quieted down when the tracks were extended to Marble Falls, Llano and Lampasas, Burnet was an established town from that time forward.

       One of the town’s early leading citizens was a young lawyer named Thomas E. Hammond. He had joined the confederate Army in 1861, when he was just thirteen years old, then come to Burnet after the war to work for General Johnson. He served as a captain in Johnson’s frontier guards, and was known as “Captain” Hammond the rest of his life. He studied law in his spare time, and passed the bar exam at age 28. He served two terms as Burnet’s mayor.

       Another leading citizen was W.C. Galloway, who came to Burnet in 1882, bought the old Calvert Hotel (now, with his additions, the Verandas Guest House) in 1899, organized the First State Bank of Burnet in 1908 and set up Burnet’s first electric company in 1917. He also served as Burnet’s mayor and tax collector.

       The families of both men have been pillars of Burnet society, and it was with their considerable help that Burnet was able to build its world-class recreation center (known as Galloway-Hammond) in 2001.

       Agriculture was the major industry in Burnet County for many years, though rock quarries and graphite mines also brought revenue from the county’s mineral resources. Cattle and sheep were plentiful, and wool was a major source of income. Cotton became common in the 1870s, and was the main crop for several decades; every little community had its own cotton gin.

       But Burnet was more than just a farming village. In 1890, there were twelve doctors in Burnet. The school superintendent was Professor R.J. Richey, who had graduated from Washington & Lee University in Virginia, and who had served as a pallbearer at the funeral of General Robert E. Lee. Professor Richey elevated the system in Burnet so that wealthy citizens from all over West Texas sent their children to Burnet schools. Local attorney Dayton Moses was famous for his oratory, and reportedly was considered at one time as a possible Democratic nominee for president.

       Burnet proved to be a little ahead of its time in the 1920s and 30s, slipping into economic depression before most of the country, but recovering strongly in the mid-thirties. Major construction projects such as Buchanan Dam, Inks Dam, Longhorn Caverns, Highways 66 and 29, and a new Burnet county courthouse made Burnet the place to find work for unemployed laborers from as far away as Minnesota. A shortage of housing found townsfolk renting sleeping space in their living rooms or on their front porches.

       Infrastructure became a priority in the thirties, and Burnet passed bonds for a public water system (completed in 1936) and a sewer plant (completed in 1940). Main Street was paved in 1935, and the other streets followed suit for the next fifteen years.

       Record rainfall throughout the thirties caused flooding, especially along the Colorado River. When Buchanan Dam was completed in 1937, it took only a few days of heavy rains upstream to fill the huge valley which suddenly became Lake Buchanan. You’ll notice the LCRA ad on one of these pages; they maintain an interesting museum at Buchanan Dam, which colorfully illustrates the history and function of the Highland Lakes Dams.

       In 1938, a young rancher and calf-roper named Wallace Riddell was elected sheriff of Burnet County. By the time of his death in 1978, he had become a national celebrity as the longest-tenured sheriff in American history.

       Burnet has always had a tradition of patriotism, and during World War II many of its young men went off to fight. At least two families, the Fry family and the Kroeger family, had six sons each in the American military.

       An Olympic swimmer named Tex Robertson chose Inks Lake as the site for a summer camp in 1939, and future celebrities like Cactus Pryor and Hondo Crouch trained at Robertson’s Camp Longhorn. Later on, future president George W. Bush was a camper at Longhorn. Even more recently, the president’s twin daughters have attended the exclusive camp. Burnet’s fabulous Galloway-Hammond Recreation Center has named its swimming complex “Tex Robertson Natatorium” in Tex’s honor.

       The fifties were not good times in Central Texas, and a long drought stifled growth throughout the Hill Country. Burnet remained a small, quiet town for several decades thereafter. But with the growth of Austin and the “discovery” of the Hill Country as a tourist destination, Burnet has grown steadily for at least the last 15 years.

       Tornadoes have hit Burnet several times through the years: in 1939, 1967, and (most spectacularly) in 1973, when block after block in the center of town was completely destroyed. Yet in all the destruction, the main story came to be the miraculous escapes of so many Burnet residents. There are no recorded fatalities in any of the storms, although more than 100 homes were demolished in 1973’s twister.

       Burnet has a number of quality attractions that make it an interesting place to visit. The historic square and Hamilton Creek Park are great for a walking (or shopping) tour, and train passengers can be seen on the streets and walking paths most weekends. Fort Croghan brings Burnet history to life with its collection of artifacts from Burnet’s early days, and the Commemorative Air Force Museum memorializes the sacrifices and achievements of the “Greatest Generation” in World War II. Longhorn Caverns, Inks Lake State Park, Canyon of the Eagles Nature Park and the Vanishing Texas River Cruise are all quality destinations, well worth the short drive from Burnet. But even better than visiting Burnet (I believe) is living in Burnet.

       One of Burnet’s chief attractions is the beautiful scenery. While spring may be the best season for photographers (Burnet was named “Bluebonnet Capital of Texas” by the state legislature in 1977), the lakes and hills have a distinct beauty for each season, and driving down the country roads is a year-round delight.

       Burnet is a modern, working town, but its Wild West roots still show up in many surprising ways. There’s a character here that’s distinctly related to those not-so-long-ago frontier days, and some of the biggest events on Burnet’s social calendar are the rodeo and the livestock show. There are plenty of places around Burnet where you can go horseback riding, and hunting season is a big deal in Burnet. People still find Indian arrowheads in their pastures, and you can still see log cabins down the old dirt roads.

       While property values have risen faster than many taxpayers would like, housing in Burnet is still a bargain compared to any big city and most other small towns. During my four years as editor of the weekly paper there, there were no murders in Burnet, and very little random crime. There is a “safe” feeling on the streets of Burnet, and a friendly atmosphere that makes going to the post office or the grocery store a very pleasant experience. Burnet’s schools have an excellent reputation, and Burnet graduates do very well in colleges all across the nation (Burnet had at least four West Point graduates during the four years that I was editor – an enormously disproportionate share for its population of just over 5,000). In 2005, the school district opened the doors to a fabulous new state-of-the-art high school on the north side of town, and renovations at the other campuses keep all the schools on the cutting edge.

       In any small Texas town, Friday night football is an important event. It’s better in Burnet. Burnet’s school district includes neighbors from Bertram, Briggs and Buchanan Dam – about two thirds of Burnet County and a little bit of Llano County – but it’s still something special when the attendance at the football game is more than the town’s entire population. When Burnet advanced to the state finals in 2002 and 2003, almost 10,000 people went to root for the Bulldogs.

       Perhaps the times that have made me most proud have been the times when Burnet showed its compassion to victims of a tragedy. After the terrorist attack on New York City in 2001, Burnet County hosted a magical “Texas Field Trip” for twenty-one fourth-graders from P.S. 197 in Harlem. Burnet County residents treated those young New Yorkers like kings for five wonderful days of “Texas” adventures. And when a player from the Everman Bulldogs suffered a spinal injury in the 2002 state championship football game, Burnet fans joined together to raise more than $100,000 for Corey Fulbright’s expenses. Over and over again, I have seen the people of Burnet rally to support a family or an individual who had suffered a loss. There are real “neighbors” in the neighborhoods here.

       Burnet’s biggest event is the Bluebonnet Festival, held the second week of April each year. The activities build up through the week to a fantastic weekend of fun, flowers, and food. Thousands of locals and visitors crowd the streets for the Bluebonnet Festival Parade and flock to the “Warbirds and Wildflowers” air show sponsored by the Commemorative Air Force’s Highland Lakes Squadron at the Burnet airport on Saturday. Live music, carnival rides, golf tournaments, car shows and crafts booths (etc., etc.) complement the activities and competitions that make the festival so special.

       Other yearly events include the Livestock Show in January, the Lawn & Garden Show and Arts & Crafts Show each spring, The Burnet County Rodeo and the Railfair weekend (sponsored by the Austin Steam Train Association) each summer, Fort Croghan Days in October, Christmas on the Square, Fort Croghan Christmas and the hugely popular Main Street Bethlehem (sponsored by local churches) events in December. The Burnet Gunfighters Association adds to the local color with staged gunfights and train robberies throughout the year.

       Of course, for those who are fortunate enough to live here, there is a constant stream of school productions, from football games to musicals to carnivals to Veterans Day ceremonies. Burnet educators, parents and students stay active year-round, and there are wholesome activities for every age and taste. In many ways, Burnet embodies the best qualities of small-town America.      

By John Hallowell   Thu, Oct 07, 2010

City of a Prince

by John Hallowell

       Any history of New Braunfels has to start in “old” Braunfels, where on July 12, 1812, a prince was born in a picturesque castle overlooking the Lahn River in Germany. The royal infant was christened Carl Frederick Wilhelm Ludwig Georg Alfred Alexander, Prince of Solms, Lord of Braunfels, Grafenstein, Muenzenberg, Wildenfels and Sonnenwalde.

       Unlike some of the German nobility, Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels (for short) seemed to be genuinely concerned for the inhabitants of his crowded, impoverished “kingdom.” At age 30, after hearing good reports of opportunities in the newly-independent Republic of Texas, he joined with some other German counts and princes to form the Society for the Protection of German Immigrants in Texas, which then set out to establish a German colony.

       Prince Carl was chosen as commissioner-general of the society, and went to Texas in 1844. While he was en route, the society entered into a contract to buy three million acres, known as the Fisher-Miller grant, between the Llano and San Saba Rivers. Prince Carl recognized that the colonists would need a landing site on the coast and a way-station between the coast and their final destination. He first purchased a site on Matagorda Bay, where there was an excellent port, fresh water and some timber. He called it Carlshafen, and three ships carrying 439 immigrants landed there in the winter of 1844. Interestingly enough, many of the first immigrants were “nail-wrights” by trade, who had been rendered unemployable by new machines which mass-produced nails!

       In March of 1845, as the immigrants prepared for their journey inland, Prince Carl went on ahead to San Antonio to buy a piece of land called Las Fontanas, along the fabled Camino Real, for a temporary settlement on the road to the Fisher-Miller grant.

       The Camino Real (King’s Highway) was the first highway across Texas, blazed by the Spanish in the 1690s from Mexico through San Antonio northeast to Nacogdoches. Las Fontanas (the Fountains) was known to those who had traveled the Camino Real as a wonderful oasis, with abundant clear water and lush vegetation. It also attracted numerous Indians and wild animals. The land belonged to the daughter of Juan Martin de Veramendi, who was the father-in-law of James Bowie and governor of Texas before the Revolution (he died in 1833). Prince Carl bought the 1,265-acre tract for $1,111.00.

       The immigrant wagon train forded the Guadalupe River on March 21, 1845 (Good Friday), and set up camp on the high bluff overlooking Comal Creek. They built a three-sided stockade, and fired a cannon each morning and evening to ward off Indians. Civil engineer Nicolaus Zink quickly surveyed the land, laying out streets and giving a half-acre town lot and a ten-acre farm lot to every man over seventeen.

       Prince Carl returned to Germany on May 15 to marry Lady Sophia, Princess of Salm-Salm. Although he would never return to Texas, he left behind an already-flourishing town, and the cornerstone of a never-completed fort called Sophienburg, after his fiancée. He also left in his fledgling community some exceptional young men who would become heroes of New Braunfels.

       Pastor Louis Cachand Ervendberg, teacher Hermann Seele and botanist Ferdinand Jacob Lindenheimer had come to Texas from Germany separately before 1845, but all three joined Prince Carl’s Adelsverein, with very positive results. Pastor Ervendsburg served as the colonists’ first pastor and cared for dozens of orphans in his home when epidemics decimated the community. He also chose 22-year-old Hermann Seele to be the teacher for 15 children in 1845. Seele first taught his classes under an elm tree; a marker in the middle of West Coll Street now marks the exact spot. He went on to serve the town in many different capacities: mayor, alderman, justice of the peace, district clerk, postmaster, state legislator and historian. He was involved in the founding of the First Protestant Church, the New Braunfels Academy and the German-language newspaper, the Neu Braunfelser Zeitung. He is sometimes called “the soul of New Braunfels.”

     Ferdinand Jacob Lindheimer was a warrior-poet who became known as the “Father of Texas Botany.” Born to a wealthy family in Frankfort in 1801, Lindheimer was highly educated in a variety of subjects. When student unrest forced him to leave his teaching job in 1833, he came to America. Joining the Texas Revolution in 1836, he served in the Texian Army for a year following the battle of San Jacinto. In 1842, he began to study Texas plants, and in his travels made friends of many Indians, who admired his wisdom and scientific knowledge. He joined the Adelsverein in 1844, and for his services was given a piece of land in New Braunfels. Here he married and raised a family, carrying on his botanical work and founding (with help from Hermann Seele) the Neu Braunsfelser Zeitung in 1852.

       Lindheimer considered it his job “not to please the masses, but to uplift them,” and for his pains once had his presses thrown into the Comal River by some indignant readers. He persevered, however, until he sold the newspaper in 1872.

              John O. Meusebach took Prince Carl’s place as commissioner-general, and while he is better known for founding the next way-station at Fredericksburg, and for negotiating a lasting treaty with the Comanches, his remarkable leadership helped New Braunfels survive some dark days, as well. It was Meusebach who secured financing to keep the colony alive after Prince Carl returned to Germany, and Meusebach who held the community together when epidemics killed hundreds of settlers in1846.

       New Braunfels was intended to serve merely as a way-station on the trek to the Fisher-Miller Grant farther inland, and hundreds of the early arrivals pushed on to Fredericksburg and beyond. Nevertheless, enough people stayed and put down roots in the new community that, according to the census, New Braunfels was the fourth-largest city in Texas by 1850. (Only Houston, Galveston and San Antonio were larger.) In 1849, the Scientific American reported that “there are already saw and grist mills in full operation” and “arrangements have been made for the establishment of cotton and woolen factories there within the present year.” “The surrounding country is rapidly filling up with industrious and respectable settlers, and the recent immigration from Germany is said to be of the best class. We know of no town in the interior of the state whose prospects are more promising.”

       The German settlers were a very gregarious group, and took every opportunity to get together for social events. Clubs (called “Vereins”) sprang up all over Comal County for every conceivable purpose. There were “Gesangvereins’ (singing clubs), “Turnvereins” (athletic clubs), “Schuetzenvereins” (shooting clubs) and more. Women got together for “Stichstunde” (sewing hour) and other more domestic pursuits.

       They were also very interested in educating their children, and New Braunfels boasted the first free public school system in Texas. The New Braunfels Academy provided a quality education for community children until 1871, when the state finally created its own educational system.

       Truly the “Gateway to the Hill Country,” New Braunfels supplied wagons, farm implements, leather goods, furniture and clothing to the pioneers who flooded into the Hill Country during the 1850s.

       Of course, war clouds threatened the peace and prosperity of all the Hill Country towns, and although New Braunfels fared better than some, times were hard during the Civil War decade. The town celebrated its 25^th anniversary in 1870, but it was another eleven years before revival culminated with the completion of the first railroad in 1881. In 1890, businessman Harry Landa (who owned the Landa Flour Mill, and was involved in every industry in town) established the first electric light service to one hundred and fifty customers. Several bridges were built in the 1880s and 90s, and the beautiful Romanesque courthouse was built in 1898. That same year, Landa’s Park was opened to the public.

       Joseph Landa was a local shopkeeper who, despite being forced to flee New Braunfels during the Civil War for his abolitionist beliefs, prospered enough to buy one of the most beautiful parcels of land in Comal County. When Joseph’s son, Harry, continued and expanded the success of his father’s businesses, he became one of the town’s leading citizens, and his mansion dominated the city’s main square (It was removed in 1962). In 1898, he opened up the family estate as a public park, and thousands of tourists came from San Antonio by train to enjoy the natural beauty. That was the beginning of New Braunfels’ reputation as a great tourist destination, a reputation that was further enhanced by the development of summer camps along the Comal River. Much of the downtown area was built up during the early 1900s; Louis and Otto Seekatz built a fabulous opera house on San Antonio Street, which became a center for social gatherings and dances, as well as theater productions. An ornate 63-room hotel was built on Seguin Street in 1929, reflecting the thriving economy, and the population rose to 6,242 by the onset of the Great Depression.

              The boll weevil and the bad economy nearly destroyed New Braunfels’ textile industry during the 1930s, and then World War II arrived. Almost 1,500 Comal County citizens served in the armed forces; of these, 38 lost their lives in the war. One of the casualties of the Great Depression was the neighboring town of Gruene, founded by Henry D. Gruene in 1878. A thriving commercial and social center for cotton farmers before the boll weevil struck, Gruene became a ghost town for nearly forty years. It was annexed by New Braunfels during the 1950s.

       The economic revival spurred by the war brought new prosperity to New Braunfels, and the city’s population rose to 12,000 by 1952. New roads and new cars brought new residents and new homes. New Braunfels was no longer a German town, and in 1957, the 105-year-old German-language newspaper merged with the English-language New Braunfels Herald to form the present “Herald-Zeitung,” published only in English. The construction of Interstate Highway 35 in 1962 encouraged further growth in the New Braunfels area. The old town of Gruene was purchased by developers around 1970, and restored as a historic village inside the city limits of New Braunfels.

       In 1961, the city initiated an annual sausage festival that has grown into a ten-day “salute to sausage” and celebration of New Braunfels’ German heritage called “Wurstfest.” Thousands of visitors consume thousands of pounds of sausage each year, and there are live entertainers and other activities to make it a fascinating and memorable event.

       The modern era of New Braunfels as a major tourist attraction began with the purchase of the 40-acre Landa Resort on the Comal River by Bob and Billye Henry in the early 1970s. They opened their Schlitterbahn (“slippery road”) Water Park with four water slides in 1979. It has grown into an amazing water wonderland, featuring three miles of innertube rides, 17 water slides, seven water playgrounds and the world’s first surfing machine. Many thousands of visitors flock from around the world to Schlitterbahn, which has become New Braunfels’ biggest attraction and largest employer each summer.

       Today, New Braunfels is a bustling city of nearly 50,000 people, but it still retains the small-town charm from a century ago. Its attractions include shopping, water sports along the Comal and Guadalupe Rivers, the historic village of Gruene, nearby Natural Bridge Caverns, Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch and Canyon Lake as well as several fine city parks.

       New Braunfels is justly proud of its heritage, and boasts several fine museums and historic sites. The Sophienburg, built on the site of Prince Carl’s original fort of the same name, is dedicated to preserving the history of New Braunfels and Comal County through dramatic exhibits of artifacts and scenes of pioneer life (including representations of the ships that brought the first settlers from Germany). The Sophienburg archives preserve the written history of the area through thousands of collections of personal and public documents. One of the Sophienburg’s prize exhibits is a miniature of Prince Carl’s castle in Germany, created by noted Fredericksburg sculptor Jonas Perkins.

       A railroad museum and a fire museum are downtown, contained in the old railroad depot and fire station. The Buckhorn Barber Shop Museum contains the intriguing collections of Fred Wagenfuehr, who cut hair for a living but collected circus memorabilia, model ships, dolls from around the world, handmade jewelry and other unique items.

       Conservation Plaza is a collection of fourteen historic buildings (1849-70) moved from downtown New Braunfels by the Conservation Society to form a small village on the north side of town, furnished with historic artifacts. Next door to Conservation Plaza is the Museum of Texas Handmade Furniture. The whole downtown area of Gruene is a glimpse into the past, with shops, restaurants and lodgings in historic buildings by the Guadalupe River.

       While Wurstfest (November 2-11 this year) may be the main event on New Braunfels’ social calendar, there are many other quality events throughout the year. The Comal County Fair will be held September 25-30, the Gruene Music and Wine Fest October 5-7, the Texas Clay Festival in Gruene October 25-27, Weihnachstmarkt (a Christmas Market at the new civic center that benefits Sophienburg Museum) November 16-18 and Wassailfest downtown December 6.

       If you can’t make it during those special days, there will always be a world of shopping, sight-seeing and fine dining to greet you, along with plenty of great places to stay. Don’t be a stranger; you’ll enjoy your time in New Braunfels!

By Ralph Steen   Fri, Jul 30, 2010

NOTE: This and the following Texas News Stories are from the book Texas News, a miscellany of Texas History in Newspaper Style.

By Kenn Knopp   Mon, Jul 19, 2010

This is the beginning of a series of stories, making up a large volume, or collection on the history of the Texas hill country. This collection was graciously provided to Texas-Hill-Country.com by Kenn Knopp, director of the German Heritage Foundation, retired investigative journalist.

     Dedication...
     to the intrepid men and women who founded and developed Friedrichsburg, Texas, beginning May 8, 1846
...and those who today maintain the heritage and who continue to live up to the Never-Broken Indian-Friedrichsburg Peace Treaty of May 9, 1847, celebrating the annual Lasting Friendship Inter-Tribal Pow Wow in Friedrichsburg the second weekend each May...
...and in Germany to those who risked everything by taking part in the German Unification and Democratic Revolution that began in the early 1840’s and resulted in the historic but short-livedPaulskirche Constitutional Assembly in Frankfurt-am-Main that adopted The Basic Rights of the German People on December 28, 1848, two years after Friedrichsburg, Texas was founded… ...it was in Texas that they were able to satisfy their quest for freedom and self-fulfillment, where they built their homes, raised their families, shared their talents that helped to develop a great state and nation, and where they are buried to await the resurrection and the enjoyment of the Eternal Kingdom in the perfection they always yearned for….

Introduction...

  CONSIDER THE RISKS.....
  What would make someone leave his family, friends, career, and familiar surroundings to spend three miserable months on the high seas on a ship full of sick and equally miserable strangers; and then have to walk two hundred miles in an erratic cold or heat, or both, in a land full of thousands of Indians, no troops to protect the immigrants, and receive no other welcome than the rattle of rattlesnakes and stunned herds of white tail deer, in a location where no one had yet lived (in a European or American way) or built a road suitable for a wagon?
   When time runs its course and we all get a chance to look back on our lives our regrets will not be about the risks we took and our mistakes, but those we failed to take. This collection of manuscripts is written in awe of those who came before and those who will make up, and discover, tomorrow’s stories. There were all kinds of reasons the immigrants came to America in the 1840’s and later. Most refused to speak about it after arriving, they were so preoccupied in making a living in their new land. When asking questions of the old-timers, the author would hear the familiar refrain: “It was the hope of a better life in America.” Better than what? But why don’t you even know the town you came from in Germany? “Grossvater never told us and wouldn’t talk about it.” Most questions just went unanswered.
   The author was taught to be an investigative journalist even during his high school days in Fredericksburg. This work is purposely subjective and includes personal observations, experiences, and having been born, raised, and living in Fredericksburg most of his life. His training in investigative journalism tries to respect the rules of objective reporting and documenting. He has tried to sort out what might be fairytale, substantiated fact, or fiction. This book is some of all of these and is spliced together with his and others’ experiences and opinions as well.
    The author does not pretend to be an historian in the academic sense; rather a reporter, a gatherer of the tales. As possible, every effort has also been made not to repeat already published information. But with the internet, the reopening of the libraries of East and West, and the coming down of the Berlin Wall, many new pieces of the historical jigsaw have been able to be found. The logistics of the stories centers around or tie in with Fredericksburg and follows its settlers and subsequent immigrants, some of them into the millennium year 2000. Most of all, bridges spanning back to German hometowns have tried to be constructed in hopes of reestablishing long dormant ties with relatives and friends. In the process, Fredericksburg’s sister city relationship with Montabaur, Germany, has been created, the city and area where a great many of Fredericksburg residents originated.

    FRIEDRICHSBURG OR FREDERICKSBUR?
    Actually, it’s both. The earliest maps and documents prove the city to have been named Friedrichsburg. Thanks to the research of Dorothy and John Cotter, these respected local historians were able to determine that because people were using both, in the mid-1880’s the U.S. Post Office asked the local postmaster to decide upon one or the other spelling. Instead of allowing the people to vote on their preference, the postmaster simply opted for the anglicized version, Fredericksburg. In this work I also use both but have generally used Friedrichsburg prior to the 1880’s and the anglicized version thereafter. The reader may find it either way during any timeline, just as a Friedrichsburger will talk Fritztown-German just about anytime he or she feels it’s appropriate. Just learn to live with it. Perhaps one day the citizens of Friedrichsburg can finally have an actual plebiscite and vote to restore the name of their city to its original founding name . . . and then live in the one and only Friedrichsburg in the United States. Even in Germany, only a teeny weeny village bears the name Friedrichsburg near the city of Hessisch Oldendorf. It is encouraging to note that civic leaders in Friedrichsburg are again taking up the cause of restoring the city’s name back to Friedrichsburg. We commend German heritage leaders, Randy Kunze and J. D. Lowe as well as the Sister City Verein at its November 2004 meeting, for resolving to take up the cause of restoring the city’s name back to Friedrichsburg as it was founded and spelled for almost forty years before being changed to the English spelling without a vote of the citizenry.

Volume I
Hin Nach Amerika! Off to America!
THE GERMANS OF THE TEXAS HILL COUNTRY
Die Friedrichsburger Manuskripte
The Fredericksburg Manuscripts
Copyright ©1999-2010 by Kenn Knopp. All rights reserved.
Email: Kenn@GermanHeritageFoundation.com www.Texas-Hill-Country.com 

By Grey Gibson   Thu, Jul 15, 2010

 NEW BRAUNFELS • Fifty years ago, a group of students from St. Mary’s University in San Antonio made a discovery that would change Texas tourism forever: a series of majestic caverns beneath a natural limestone formation in the shape of a bridge.

Today, Natural Bridge Caverns—located between San Antonio and New Braunfels— is a “jewel in the crown of Texas’ attractions” according to former Governor John Connally, attracting enthusiastic visitors from far and wide.

In addition to regular tours—the Discovery tour which winds through the northern “Discovery Passages” of the cavern, the Illuminations tour located in the southern “Hidden Passages” portion, and the Adventure tour in which participants rappel up and down the steep walls and belly crawl through the narrow tunnels of either the Discovery or Hidden Passages—Natural Bridge Caverns is now offering the Lantern Tour in celebration of the 50th anniversary of the cave’s discovery.

Available all summer, the Lantern Tour is based on the original Discovery Tour, but with a slight twist: no interior cavern lighting is used. Instead, guests light their way with small handheld LED lanterns to recreate the experience of the cave’s first discovery in 1960. It takes about 75 minutes to walk three-quarters of a mile on the Lantern Tour, the entire journey along user-friendly paved walkways with hand railings, which make it easily accessible to children and older guests. No bulky caving gear is required—just shoes with good traction.

The tour winds through massive caverns, each bigger than the next, and each featuring spectacular and unique geological formations such as the ones found in the Hall of the Mountain King, Sherwood Forest, and Grendel’s Lair, which look just as mythical as they sound.

The lowest point of the tour is 180 feet below the surface across a narrow pass (with a handrail) that passes over Purgatory Creek. All features of the tour are designed with safety in mind, while still retaining a sense of adventure.

While the Discovery and Illuminations tours make use of extensive electrical lighting laid across the floors of the caves that illuminates and highlights the breathtaking formations, the Lantern Tour allows a greater appreciation of the sheer size of the caverns as they were first experienced by the original explorers.

Lantern Tour guides take guests on a journey into the past chock-full of information about each and every portion of the years-long discovery and excavation process, indicating points of interest and telling thrilling and sometimes amusing tales of the trials and tribulations the original explorers faced.

There’s even a demonstration of the operation of the calcium carbide lamp used by the caverns’ discoverers, which can be both dim and unreliable in comparison to the LED lanterns with which guests are provided, creating a renewed appreciation for the fortitude with which the original explorers faced their seemingly insurmountable challenge.

Since the discovery of the caverns, the Wuest family—which has owned the land in which the caverns reside for more than 120 years—have kept maintenance and preservation a family business.

The cave is still remarkably alive and growing; the 70-degree internal temperature with 90 percent humidity is a testament to that. Water is everywhere, dripping from the living rock and pooling into emerald-colored ponds, making the caverns themselves magically glitter.

Natural Bridge Caverns has a little bit of everything. Looking for a challenge? Find it in the Adventure Tours. A family-friendly sight-seeing opportunity is yours on the Discovery or  Illuminations tours, and those looking to experience a little history will love the limited-time Lantern Tour. For a little post-tour fun, Natural Bridge offers a Watchtower Challenge with a climbing wall and a zip line and a mining activity in which guests can purchase bags of sand and pan for particles of precious gems—including sapphires, rubies, topaz, emeralds, crystal and quartz —to identify and keep. Natural Bridge Caverns is also located right next to Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch.

FYI • Natural Bridge Caverns is located 30 minutes north of downtown San Antonio, eight miles west of Interstate 35 at exit #175, Natural Bridge Caverns Road.

Hours are Monday through Thursday from 9 am to 6 pm; Friday, Saturday and Sunday from 9 am to 7 pm.

Every Tuesday this summer, join in the 50th Anniversary celebration of the discovery of the caverns with special events and activities. Take the Lantern Tour, and from 1 pm to 3 pm enjoy free anniversary cake and balloons and have your cartoon likeness captured in a cave setting by a caricature artist.

 For a complete schedule of tours, driving directions and more, visit the website at www.naturalbridgecaverns.com . For more information, call 210-651-6101.

Story © 2010 Hill Country Sun, used by permission http://www.HillCountrySUN.com 

By Joseph Luther Ph.D.   Thu, Jul 15, 2010

Last night. In the distance, there was a soft cry. The sound could not be described as a screech or a scream.  More like a keening, it was the sound of unreserved despair, as if all hope had been cast off and horror was at hand.

Somewhere out in that dark wooded valley, a creature was singing its death song. This was not a cry for help. This clear, sharp, high-pitched wavering note was a pronouncement.   “I am done for,” the cry seemed to say, “save yourselves.”

My dad crowded into my memory as I remembered him making that exact quavering note.  Silhouetted against a moonlit night, framed by a corpse of cedars, I saw him blowing on his horn, staccato notes making frantic cries across the landscape.  I knew that sound.  It was a rabbit calling at death’s door.

My dad and I occupied a lot of my childhood enjoying a sport he called “fox calling.” The only hunting instruments we carried were his fox horn and a flashlight – no guns.  His fox horn was handcrafted from the last four inches of a cow horn, boiled, scraped, cleaned into a translucent instrument, and fitted with a reed.  This skill he learned from his father and so on, back into history. How old was that knowledge – thousands of years?

He taught me well. I learned the “far away” call, the “middle call” and the “near call”, each with its own syncopation and inflection. At the last, in the throes of the “near call” I learned to rattle the horn in my teeth, imitating the sound of the rabbit’s paws scrabbling on the rocky soil. It was like playing music – a song of wretched woe.

Those nights, we would drive out into the Hill Country and walk out into the shadowy woods. We would find a good place to hide and settled down. After about a half hour of silence, Dad would commence the music.

Soft at first, he made a few small notes adagio … signaling to any predator nearby – “here am I, the hopeless creature.” Pause, then repeat, shorter pause, then increased the volume with a quiver and waver. “Oh immeasurable sorrow, here am I.”

The second movement began in earnest, as Dad then called con brilo to the denizens of the darkness. I could image their heads jerking up and their ears focusing on the fortississimo notes. Sometimes we could hear the foxes bark or coyotes call in chorus.  Then, the forest just seemed to become much quieter.

A long wait – maybe five minutes – and my dad would introduce the third movement – the doloroso a diminuendo. This was the breath of death. “I am done.” This final movement would compel any predator to charge.

At the moment any movement was spotted, I turned the flashlight on and we had found our fox or coyote or other prowler. Sometimes we were more surprised than the predator. Sometimes …

Dad and I finally abandoned the practice of standing out in the woods to do our fox calling. The invasion of rabies into the fox and coyote populations in the hills had created a bona fide peril. From that time on, we sat in the car and called our foxes out the open window. It was the same routine, but not nearly so adventuresome, somehow.

However, when that fox banged into the side of the car in full flight, crazed and slobbering with the madness, its face all fangs and foam as it tried to get at us – that was too much. No fun there, just fear. I would light up the fox with the flashlight beam, but it just rushed on, crashing into the car. Sure, I knew that it could never get to us, but …. This was before power windows.

One night, we called up a cougar. I am not sure if it was rabid but it sure looked impressive crouching and hissing at the old Ford.  Just like it happens in all the horror movies, Dad flooded the engine and there we sat with a very aggressive mountain lion growling and coughing from the shadows of night.

The fox calling was done from the porch after that, just a step away from the door.

Now, when I hear those cries in the night, I promise myself I will find Dad’s old fox horn and have some fun. I just do not know where it is anymore.

Joseph Luther Ph.D.

By Sylvia Dickey Smith   Wed, Jul 14, 2010

Nothing unusual happened today—unless you count that thing with the iguana...

There I was, sitting on my front porch minding my own business, staring off in the distance at the cactus, cedar, and live oak trees scattered across the Texas hill country. The long, hot day eased into a cool breeze, so I propped my feet on the rail, and started to light a cancer stick when the dang critter wandered up the steps. He stood staring up at me with his long skinny tongue darting back and forth like he thought I was the most delicious thing he’d seen all day.

Now, if you’ve never seen an iguana before, those suckers grow big! Not like those little pets you see in stores plopped down in big, plastic buckets. This guy must’ve been five feet long, including that yardstick tail he drug up the steps behind him. I thought I was gonna mess my britches before I could get on the other side of the screen door. But soon as I did, he gives me this pitiful little look that says he’s lost his best friend. And I swear a tear run down his scaly face.

Never one to hurt a guy’s feelings, I says to him, “Baby, it wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so god-awful ugly. Look at that skin! You done look like you been out in the sun way too long. And those fingernails! Honey, what you really need is a manicure.”

So up I get to the bathroom, collect my little basket of clippers, and emery boards, and cuticle scissors, and march right back out on that porch. Sure enough, he’s still there, still looking sad and forlorn. I open up my basket and get to work.

I’m here to tell you, that iguana spread-eagled on that porch and lay there as patient as if I was his mama fixing him a bowl of Ramen Noodles, tossing in an ice cube to cool it off!

In no time, I finished my job, and put my things back in my little basket. I could’ve sworn the prissy critter smiled as he turned and ambled off the porch with the brightest, prettiest jungle red toenails you done ever seen.

And that was my day—the day of the iguana.

By Mr Hill Country   Tue, Jul 13, 2010

Hill Country Cruising in a day

Some of the top scenic drives in Texas are in the Hill Country and most travel publications mention several in close proximity. Day trips to heritage-rich Central Texas towns, such as Fredericksburg, Kerrville, Johnson City, Marble Falls, Bandera, and Canyon Lake make for a nice trip.

The Devil's Backbone on Ranch Road 32. Starting on the northeast side of Canyon Lake, climb the heights of "Espinosa del Diablo." The roadside park at the summit has a spectacular view of the Blanco River Valley. Ranch Road 32 continues on to San Marcos or Wimberley.

FM 311. In Spring Branch, take FM 311 East off US 281 to FM 3159. Head downhill into Startzville for a breathtaking view of the Guadalupe Valley.

FM 473. Off US 281, take FM 473 West to Comfort through the quaint towns of Kendalia and Sisterdale. There are several wineries on this scenic route. Continue through Comfort to historic Kerrville, an early German community settled in 1848, also known for the Kerrville Folk Festival and the Texas State Arts & Crafts Fair. Then head south on State Hwy 173 to Bandera through Camp Verde, home of the infamous camel corps. Bandera is the "Cowboy Capitol of the World" where there are many dude ranches that offer all the amenities for your perfect Texas experience.

To LBJ's Birthplace & Fredericksburg. Take US 281 North through Blanco to Johnson City, proceed on Hwy 290 West through Johnson City to Stonewall and the LBJ Ranch National Park. Free guided tours of Johnson's birthplace and boyhood home are available. Continue on Hwy 290 to Fredericksburg, founded in 1846 by German immigrants. The town has many authentic German restaurants and is a Hill Country shopping mecca.

The National Museum of the Pacific War in Fredericksburg. Fleet Admiral of the US Navy, Chester Nimitz, was born and raised there. The Museum of the Pacific War is located in the Nimitz Hotel which was owned by the Admirals father.

Luckenbach. From Fredericksburg, return to Blanco on FM 1376 through Luckenbach, population 3.

Texas Wine Trails. Twenty-four of Texas' best wineries are in the Hill Country area - one locally is Dry Comal Creek Vineyards near New Braunfels. Travel the Texas Hill Country to taste all the wines that are offered by following the Texas Wine Trail and have a taste of the good life. Visit TexasWineTrail.com or call 866-621-9463 for details.

Holiday Trail of Lights. A great time of year for road trips is during the holiday season from Thanksgiving through early January. Most of the Hill Country communities participate in a dazzling Trail of Lights display. Head to Blanco, then Johnson City (and the PEC building) to the Walk of Lights in Marble Falls. You'll be impressed.

By Mr Hill Country   Wed, Jul 07, 2010

Throw a canoe on the roof or a tube in the trunk and head for the Llano, the Brazos, the Guadalupe, or any of the other rivers on this list of the twenty best trips to take on Texas waterways this summer.uEPOFQPERWFQ

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By John Hallowell   Sat, Jul 16, 2011

Shoppers in the Nashville mall crowded around the sound booth, hoping for a chance to meet country singer Gretchen Wilson. But it wasn't the star herself that they had heard singing the familiar song; it was a remarkable girl from Goldthwaite, Texas, named Christian Faith Snodgrass. Born with no arms and only one not-fully-developed leg, she has steadfastly refused to let circumstances discourage her. Her determination, intelligence and charm (and a great singing voice!) have helped her overcome obstacles that would seem insurmountable to most of us with healthy arms and legs.

Christian never considered herself handicapped. If she couldn't crawl like other infants, she would find other ways to get around. She soon learned to roll or "slither" on her stomach very proficiently, and when she was barely two, she just sat up and started "walking" on her hips!

By that time, Christian was already showing signs of remarkable intelligence. "The doctor tells me that parts of the brain that usually control arms and legs went into learning things instead," Christian says. As a two-year-old, she could already carry a tune, and was learning to draw using her toes. She also became the first two-year-old ever to be able to "drive" a motorized wheelchair. "The doctors thought maybe I'd be able to do it when I was five," she says proudly.

Christian started taking singing lessons when she was "five or six years old," and she was singing in church by the time she was seven. She began singing at public events at age ten (she helped raise $10,000 for a little Brownwood boy
with leukemia in 2006); her first trip to Nashville came when she was eleven. When she was thirteen, she won the "Best of the Best" in a talent show in Fort Worth (of 500 teenagers competing) and made appearances at charity fundraisers and on TV. That year, she got her first paying gigs in Brady and Menard, where she sang and spoke to a church youth group, and was interviewed on the radio by country music promoter Tracy Pitcox. She introduced her first "demo" CD at 8th-grade graduation, and took 22 of her classmates to a party in a stretch limousine.

Christian is now 15 years old, and a sophomore in high school. (Interestingly enough, one of her best friends is young actor Jae Head, who knows a little himself about overcoming adversity.) She is an excellent student, and hopes to study music in college. She still enjoys drawing (and is very good at it!), but her career ambition is to become a famous singer ("I'm trying for American Idol in August," she says). She enjoys the music of Taylor Swift, Keith Urban, Casey Donahew and Kevin Fowler, but doesn't have a particular favorite. "If I hear a song I like, I look it up," she says. "Then I'll listen to other songs by the same artist."

In the meantime, Christian keeps busy with school and public appearances. "I've been doing a lot of fundraisers," she says. "It's a real thrill to be able to help save lives." One of her best memories is raising money for a cancer patient in 2009, who "had it pretty bad." He recently had his last treatment, and is cancer-free.

"Anything I do," Christian explains, "I put my heart and mind into it, and ask God to help." That approach has made Christian an achiever and an inspiration to many others. We expect to hear a lot more in the future from Christian Faith Snodgrass.

By John Hallowell   Tue, Jun 28, 2011

The Fourth of July is a uniquely American holiday, so it might seem strange for me to begin my thoughts on Independence Day with quotes from an English politician and a Scottish poet. But if you’ll bear with me, I think you’ll understand.

Patriotism and love of country are not unique to America. It was the Scottish poet and novelist, Sir Walter Scott, who penned the famous words: “Breathes there the man with soul so dead /Who never to himself hath said, /This is my own, my native land! /Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned, /As home his footsteps he hath turned /From wandering on a foreign strand!”

While some might carry patriotism too far, or use it as a tool to manipulate the thoughtless, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that special affection for the particular corner of God’s creation in which you live. It is a God-given sense of connection and belonging which, properly used, gives extra meaning to life and inspires extra achievement from its beneficiaries.

Our own homeland has many detractors, but the more criticism and apology I hear, the more I am reminded of Winston Churchill’s observations on democracy: “Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”

I believe a similar assessment could be made of our country; in the last 235 years, the United States of
America (with all its undeniable warts), has made more positive contributions to humanity than any other nation. The U.S.A.
has been the world’s leader in almost every field of human achievement; it has been the most generous nation in the world’s history. It has helped more, defended more, liberated more and given opportunity to more than anyone else, ever. And it all has its roots in a 1,322-word document, written mostly by a 33-year-old lawyer from Virginia, and signed by 56 foresighted and courageous men representing thirteen British colonies in North America.

It was a time when a very few wealthy and powerful men ruled empires, and vast populations lived in poverty and oppression. Somehow, in America, the idea of freedom and equality took root. When Thomas Paine published a 48-page pamphlet called Common Sense in January of 1776, a half-million copies were sold that year, and Americans thrilled to the fiery language: "O ye that love mankind! Ye that dare oppose, not only the tyranny, but the tyrant, stand forth! Every spot of the old world is overrun with oppression. Freedom hath
been hunted round the globe. Asia, and Africa, have long expelled her--Europe regards her like a stranger, and England hath given her warning to depart. O! receive the fugitive, and prepare in time an asylum for mankind."

Thomas Jefferson’s more thoughtful – but no less revolutionary – declaration was signed on July 4, 1776, immortalizing the signers’ belief that “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty
and the pursuit of Happiness.” They recognized the gravity of what they were doing; the final paragraph reads “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.” Benjamin Franklin is reported to have said, “We must, indeed, all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.” They had the courage to go ahead, and while some lost their lives and their fortunes, their “sacred honor” remains intact to this day.

America has never been a Utopia; it was just 87 years later that Abraham Lincoln would say at the Gettysburg battlefield, “we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether . . . any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.” BUT, “we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

And this nation, under God, DID have a new birth of freedom! The people of France recognized that fact when they presented us with a Statue of Liberty, later inscribed with this message: "Give me your tired, your poor, /Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, /The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, /Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,/I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" Millions of people from around the world came here, to America, breathing new energy and excitement into the American Dream as they realized their own dreams of “breathing free.”

The U.S.A. became an industrial giant, a leader in science, in technology and even in the arts. Perhaps more importantly, it became the “arsenal of democracy,” supplying the weapons and personnel that defeated some of the most sinister empires the world had ever
known. Perhaps in the years since World War II the lines have not been so clearly drawn, but America has almost always been there to help in disasters, almost always worked to ease suffering, to defend the weak, to feed the hungry, to help the poor and downtrodden and to find new solutions for age-old problems.

It’s not that our land is more beautiful or blessed with more resources than any other. It’s not that we are smarter or braver or stronger than people from other lands. It’s the liberty that those fifty-six men promised us on the Fourth of July -- the freedom to think, dream, worship and achieve -- that has made the United States of America a beacon to the world.

So get out there this Independence Day with your red, white and blue; celebrate with parades and parties and friends and fireworks. Salute the flag and sing patriotic songs without embarrassment. This is America, and God has blessed us all immensely. We have a lot to celebrate!

I’ll close with some words from Lee Greenwood’s song, which sent chills up and down my spine when I first heard it during the Gulf War in 1991, and which I still love to hear: “I’m proud to be an American,/where at least I know I’m free./And I won’t forget the men who died,/who gave that right to me. /And I’d gladly stand up/next to you and defend her still today./‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land./God bless the USA.”

The Fourth of July is a uniquely American holiday, so it might seem strange for me to begin my thoughts on Independence Day with quotes from an English politician and a Scottish poet. But if you’ll bear with me, I think you’ll understand.

Patriotism and love of country are not unique to America. It was the Scottish poet and novelist, Sir Walter Scott, who penned the famous words: “Breathes there the man with soul so dead /Who never to himself hath said, /This is my own, my native land! /Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned, /As home his footsteps he hath turned /From wandering on a foreign strand!”

While some might carry patriotism too far, or use it as a tool to manipulate the thoughtless, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that special affection for the particular corner of God’s creation in which you live. It is a God-given sense of connection and belonging which, properly used, gives extra meaning to life and inspires extra achievement from its beneficiaries.

Our own homeland has many detractors, but the more criticism and apology I hear, the more I am reminded of Winston Churchill’s observations on democracy: “Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.” I believe a similar assessment could be made of our country; in the last 233 years, the United States of America (with all its undeniable warts), has made more positive contributions to humanity than any other nation. The U.S.A. has been the world’s leader in almost every field of human achievement; it has been the most generous nation in the world’s history. It has helped more, defended more, liberated more and given opportunity to more than anyone else, ever. And it all has its roots in a 1,322-word document, written mostly by a 33-year-old lawyer from Virginia, and signed by 56 foresighted and courageous men representing thirteen British colonies in North America.

It was a time when a very few wealthy and powerful men ruled empires, and vast populations lived in poverty and oppression. Somehow, in America, the idea of freedom and equality took root. When Thomas Paine published a 48-page pamphlet called Common Sense in January of 1776, a half-million copies were sold that year, and Americans thrilled to the fiery language: "O ye that love mankind! Ye that dare oppose, not only the tyranny, but the tyrant, stand forth! Every spot of the old world is overrun with oppression. Freedom hath been hunted round the globe. Asia, and Africa, have long expelled her--Europe regards her like a stranger, and England hath given her warning to depart. O! receive the fugitive, and prepare in time an asylum for mankind."

Thomas Jefferson’s more thoughtful – but no less revolutionary – declaration was signed on July 4, 1776, immortalizing the signers’ belief that “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” They recognized the gravity of what they were doing; the final paragraph reads “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.” Benjamin Franklin is reported to have said, “We must, indeed, all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.” They had the courage to go ahead, and while some lost their lives and their fortunes, their “sacred honor” remains intact to this day.

America has never been a Utopia; it was just 87 years later that Abraham Lincoln would say at the Gettysburg battlefield, “we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether . . . any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.” BUT, “we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

And this nation, under God, DID have a new birth of freedom! The people of France recognized that fact when they presented us with a Statue of Liberty, inscribed with this message: "Give me your tired, your poor, /Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, /The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, /Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, /I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" Millions of people from around the world came here, to America, breathing new energy and excitement into the American Dream as they realized their own dreams of “breathing free.”

The U.S.A. became an industrial giant, a leader in science, in technology and even in the arts. Perhaps more importantly, it became the “arsenal of democracy,” supplying the weapons and personnel that defeated some of the most sinister empires the world had ever known. Perhaps in the years since World War II the lines have not been so clearly drawn, but America has almost always been there to help in disasters, almost always worked to ease suffering, to defend the weak, to feed the hungry, to help the poor and downtrodden and to find new solutions for age-old problems.

It’s not that our land is more beautiful or blessed with more resources than any other. It’s not that we are smarter or braver or stronger than people from other lands. It’s the liberty that those fifty-six men promised us on the Fourth of July -- the freedom to think, dream, worship and achieve -- that has made the United States of America a beacon to the world.

So get out there this Independence Day with your red, white and blue; celebrate with parades and parties and friends and fireworks. Salute the flag and sing patriotic songs without embarrassment. This is America, and God has blessed us all immensely. We have a lot to celebrate!

I’ll close with some words from Lee Greenwood’s song, which sent chills up and down my spine when I first heard it during the Gulf War in 1991, and which I still love to hear: “I’m proud to be an American,/where at least I know I’m free./And I won’t forget the men who died,/who gave that right to me. /And I’d gladly stand up/next to you and defend her still today./‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land./God bless the USA.”

By John Hallowell   Fri, Apr 08, 2011

       Guich Koock’s life has been a unique journey from the very start. A sixth-generation Texan, his mother was Mary Faulk, sister of the famously blacklisted radio entertainer John Henry Faulk, and Guich (known in his early years as “Bill”) was born at a sprawling Victorian home, surrounded by his extended family (and many notable friends) on 23 acres of beautiful farmland just south of Austin.

       After her father died and her mother moved into a small house in town, Mary and her husband, Chester Koock, turned the downstairs into the Green Pastures Restaurant in 1946 (open to all races 18 years before the Civil Rights Act of 1964). The Koock family (they eventually had seven children) lived upstairs, but they still enjoyed all the benefits of rural life, with cows, horses, dogs, cats, etc. on their 23 acres. Guich still remembers plowing with mules, and he rode a horse to St. Edwards High School when he first attended high school.

       When Guich was in high school, he had the privilege of serving as a driver for the famous author J. Frank Dobie, and the Faulk family connection led to his acquaintance with many influential Texans during his growing-up years. During his senior year in high school, he worked as a counselor at Tex Robertson’s Camp Longhorn; he was a friend of two famous Camp Longhorn alumni: Cactus Pryor and Hondo Crouch. He studied history and English in college, and for his Master’s thesis at Texas A&M University, he interviewed children of former slaves in east Texas to compile a history.

       Sometime in the late ‘60s, Koock was hired to help with a multi-cultural children’s TV show in Houston; he did some of the writing and some time on camera. During that time, he lived off-and-on at the Wimberley cabin of historians Bill and M.F. Johnson.

       In 1970, Koock entered a partnership with two of his friends (Hondo Crouch and Kathy Morgan) to buy the little town of Luckenbach for $29,000. It wasn’t all fun and games; he had to mind the old store for long hours at a time, and deliver eggs from area farmers to San Antonio to help pay the bills. But before long, the imaginative trio had made Luckenbach into a world-famous tourist attraction, and along the way, Guich had organized the Luckenbach World Fair and landed a small part in Steven Spielberg’s 1974 movie, Sugarland Express.

       For the next twenty years or so, Guich traveled back and forth between Texas and California, restoring old buildings and opening restaurants in Fredericksburg when he wasn’t playing a role in some movie or TV show. He had parts in movies such as Piranha (1978) North Dallas Forty (1979), American Ninja (1985), Square Dance (1987, with Wynona Ryder, Jason Robards and Rob Lowe), Substitute Wife (1994, with Farrah Fawcett), and Texas Justice (1995, with Heather Locklear). He also played roles in TV shows such as Laverne and Shirley, Carter Country (where he played Deputy Harley Puckett in the late 70s), Lewis and Clark, (with Gabe Kaplan as the owners of a country-western music club) and She’s the Sheriff (once again as a deputy) in the late ‘80s. In his spare time, he was a multiple-appearance guest on Good Morning America, The Tonight

Show and the Merv Griffin Show; he also co-hosted the LA Sunday Show, as well as the Toni Tennille Show. In 2006, he was hired as host of the new TV program called Wide World of Horses.

       When asked if there were specific highlights of his life that he especially treasured, Koock immediately mentions his children. “I’m really proud of my kids: Travis, Dobie and Jennifer. But nearly every day is a new highlight; I can’t tell you how many ways I’ve been blessed. I give thanks every day, all day.

       These days, Koock mostly goes around spreading the blessings. This July, he served as Master of Ceremonies at the unique event in Bandera (described in the previous story), where nine “remarkable individuals and wondrous characters” were honored at the National Day of the American Cowboy celebration for “Keeping Texas Texan.” He probably should have been one of the honorees.

By John Hallowell   Mon, Feb 07, 2011

       When you order a belt buckle from Tres Rios Silver in Llano, you know that you're getting the "real thing." Founder Vicki Christensen and her family are all lifelong rodeo participants -- seeing, winning, wearing and now designing the very finest in trophy buckles.
       Vicki grew up in Lane County, Oregon, where her father and uncle were well known as the "Christensen Brothers" --accomplished riders and ropers themselves, who became livestock contractors for rodeos all over the northwest. They supplied stock for decades to such noted rodeos as Ellensburg (WA) and the Pendleton Round-Up in eastern Oregon. They even supplied saddle broncs to the first National Finals Rodeo in Dallas in 1959. Christensen Brothers became the largest independent family-owned stock contractor in the nation; both brothers were inducted into the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame in 1989.
       Vicki (and her cousin, Sherri) made a name for themselves as trick riders at an early age. "I trick-rode for a living for quite a while," Vicki says, "and I didn't want to lose contact with that way of life." In the meantime, she had lived 17 years on a Navajo reservation in New Mexico, and had learned a lot about Indian jewelry. She decided to go into business designing custom silver buckles.
       Vicki's son, Brett Tatum, was a rodeo star at UNLV, and went on to become a professional bull rider for several years after college. He is now in charge of advertising and marketing for Tres Rios.
       Brett's wife, Keylie, brings her own rodeo tradition to the family. Her father, Brad Herrera, is a former Colorado State High School Rodeo Association All-Around (and still a team roper); her mother, Lynn Herrera, is a former barrel racer. They ranch on 17 sections near Durango, Colorado. Keylie was a rodeo star in high school; she first met Brett at the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo. After graduating from high school in 2000, she attended Cochise College in Douglas, Arizona.
       "I went to college to rodeo," she admits, and twice qualified for the College National Finals Rodeo in breakaway roping. She and Brett met again in the fall of her sophomore year, and they were married the following year. They have a five-year-old son named Pecos, who is already excited about ranching and rodeoing. Keylie still competes very successfully and was featured on the cover of "Rodeo News" last November.
       The family (and their business) moved to Llano a little over two years ago, but they carry on with their ranching and rodeo tradition here. They have a business arrangement with race-horse breeders Micah and Leslie McKinney, of Reliance Ranches, in Llano; they take horses whose racing careers are over, and train them as barrel racers. "We work together, and rope every day," Keylie says. "Pecos goes at it just like we do. He has big dreams of being a rancher some day." So far, his rodeo activities consist mostly of dummy ropings and goat tying, but he's well on his way to becoming a star like his parents.
       Vicki decided two years ago to open a women's clothing boutique in the front half of her small building on Bessemer Avenue (Highway 16, near the Highway 29 intersection). That business (One Trick Pony) is growing, too, with help from her assistant, Gracie Amici. "She's a tremendous asset," says Vicki. "While this is definitely a family business, we couldn't do it without our whole crew."  

       Tres Rios has five people working in the office now, plus several outside sales people. That's part of the reason that the family is looking to expand. They recently decided to move into a 4,000-square-foot building across from the Visitors Center in Llano's historic Railyard, and Vicki is excited about the possibilities. "We'll each have our own office there, and we'll have a whole lot more room for displays." One of her plans is to devote a corner of the new One Trick Pony showroom to memorabilia from the Pendleton Round-Up.
       Despite the family's varied geographical background, Vicki emphasizes that "Llano is home," pointing out that Llano has a strong rodeo tradition and a close-knit community. "We love Llano, and we want to be part of the good things that are happening here." She is proud of personal relationships with customers, both through Tres Rios Silver and through One Trick Pony. Regarding buckles, she says, "Our goal is to provide a beautiful buckle of silver & gold plate, that is entirely built by hand to ensure the highest quality found in the industry." She describes One Trick Pony's mission by saying, "We seek to provide fun, funky fashions with a 'Western Flair;' a 'cowgirl couture,' with an emphasis on wearability."  The last two years, One Trick Pony has been presented with the Highland Lakes “People’s Choice” Award for Best Women’s Clothing Store.
      

To learn more about these two unique Llano businesses, visit online at http://www.tresriossilverbuckles.com and http://myonetrickpony.com or on their Facebook pages.

By John Hallowell   Sat, Jan 08, 2011

Sahawe Success Story

By JOHN HALLOWELL

     Just over sixty years ago, a Scoutmaster named Joe Williams was looking for a good program to involve the older boys of Boy Scout Troop 81 in Uvalde. He read about the Koshare Indian Dancers, led by Buck Burshears in La Junta, Colorado, and decided to start his own group, called Comanche Club Indians, in 1950.

     The first performance was a three-minute dance for a Boy Scout Camporee on the Nueces River. It was a huge hit, and the group received calls to dance again and again. Just months after their first practice, the boys from South Texas stole the show at a Scout Circus in Fort Worth, where they thrilled a crowd of 14,000 at the Will Rogers Coliseum. One of those boys was a 13-year-old named Bill Dillahunty, who “joined two weeks after the founding, and been with them (almost) ever since.” The name of the group was changed to “Sahawe Indian Dancers” in 1952.

     Joe Williams remained active with the group until his death in 1957, then F.W. “Chief” Calvert became the leader for a couple of years. Bill Dillahunty went off to college, then joined the military; the leaderless group was disbanded in 1959. When Dillahunty returned to Uvalde in 1962, several friends asked him to revive the group which had given them so many good memories. “We’ll help you whenever we can,” they told him. “I’m still waiting,” he says with a smile.

     The Sahawe Indian Dancers have come a long way over the last forty-seven years. While Dillahunty earned a living in the retail business, he and the boys have devoted countless “spare time” hours to research, costume and prop design, practice and travel. Because most of the dances require girls, the Boy Scouts have teamed up with the Bright Feather Dancers of Girl Scout Troop 4042.

     Twenty-four years after Joe Williams’ death, the Sahawes began construction on one of his dream projects: an outdoor theater in Uvalde. It has been in use since 1981, but has been continually updated and expanded. At present it seats 300 people, and it’s not finished yet.

     The Sahawes do 60 to 70 shows on the road each year; they have performed in more than 200 Texas cities, plus venues in other states and in Mexico. Still, the theater is the best place to see the Sahawe shows, since some of their intricate costumes and heavy props don’t lend themselves to traveling. The Summer Ceremonials are held there for six evenings in late July; the Winter Ceremonials (the next big Sahawe event) are held inside the Weston Hall at Uvalde’s First United Methodist Church the last week of February and the first week of March. Once a year, the dancers are rewarded for their hard work with a trip to places of interest (Yellowstone, Disney World, etc.) around the country.

     Several hundred boys, ranging in age from fifth grade through high school and even beyond, have gone through the Sahawe program. Many have gone on to become leading citizens, and the group has been designated as Uvalde’s “Ambassadors of Good Will.” Their show was recently named one of Uvalde’s top tourist attractions by Texas travel writers. That’s one very impressive Boy Scout program.

By John Hallowell   Sun, Dec 19, 2010

       Luckenbach is a tiny community in the scenic hills southeast of Fredericksburg. It was founded by Jacob Luckenbach (not one of the Adelsverein pioneers who settled Fredericksburg, but a veteran of the Texas Revolution who was awarded land for his military service) and his brother, August.

       While tradition says that the first general store was established in 1849, records indicate that the first post office was opened, under the name of South Grape Creek, in 1854. Albert's wife, Minnie (Engel) Luckenbach operated the store and saloon; a dance hall, cotton gin and blacksmith shop were built in Luckenbach (the town's name was changed by postmaster August Engel in 1886) by the late 1800s.

       Luckenbach's population peaked at 492 in 1904, but decreased dramatically with the arrival of the boll weevil and its destruction of the cotton crop. By the 1930s, there were only 20 people left in town. The dance hall, saloon and general store remained open to serve area ranchers, but the schools were eventually consolidated with Fredericksburg.

       In 1971, the whole ten-acre town was purchased by a pair of unorthodox, imaginative promoters: William "Guich" Koock and John Russell "Hondo" Crouch. Crouch declared himself mayor and "Clown Prince" of Luckenbach, and Koock organized the "Luckenbach World's Fair." Their antics attracted worldwide attention, and Luckenbach became a tourist attraction even before Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson recorded their huge hit song, "Luckenbach, Texas," in 1977.

       Luckenbach was the setting for the "Lewis and Clark" sitcom, starring Gabe Kaplan and Guich Koock, in 1981 and 1982. Willie Nelson held his July 4th picnics in Luckenbach from 1995 through 1999. Today, Luckenbach (consisting mostly of a general store, dance hall and parking lot on the north bank of Grape Creek) remains a popular live-music venue and a favorite hangout for motorcyclists. For more information, including directions and an event schedule, see www.luckenbachtexas.com.

By John Hallowell   Wed, Dec 01, 2010

The Return of the Chuckwagon

By JOHN HALLOWELL

       Some type of mobile kitchens probably existed before the Civil War, but it is a Texas rancher named Charles Goodnight who is credited with inventing the chuckwagon in 1866 for use on the long cattle drives that became the backbone of the Texas economy after the war. "Chuck" was a slang term for food, and chuckwagon food included items that were easy to preserve, such as salted meats, coffee, beans, and sourdough biscuits. Food was also gathered on the trail (chili peppers were said to be planted along the cattle trails for future use (or sprang from discards). The "cookie" was in charge of the chuckwagon, usually second only to the "trailboss" on a cattle drive. The cookie would often act not only as cook, but also barber, dentist, and banker

       The American Chuckwagon Association is an organization dedicated to the preservation of the heritage of the chuckwagon. Its members participate in chuckwagon cook-offs throughout much of the US. Through these events, the members educate the public on the history and traditions surrounding the chuckwagon.

       At a chuckwagon cook off, each wagon is judged on the authenticity of the wagon. Wagons must be in sound drivable condition, with equipment and construction available in the late 1800s. Contents of the chuck-box, including utensils, must also match what would have been used during the era. Wagons are also judged on the attire of their cooks. A typical chuckwagon cookoff is composed of 5 food categories: Meat (usually chicken-fried steak), Beans (pinto), Bread (Sourdough or yeast), Dessert (usually peach cobbler), and potatoes. Wagons usually cook enough food for forty people. A team of judges evaluates the entries from each wagon, giving each a score. Once scores are tabulated, prizes are awarded to the top wagons.

       While the association holds cook-offs in ten states (as far away as Georgia, Tennessee and South Dakota), nearly half of its approximately 30 annual events are held in Texas, and four are right here in the Texas Hill Country. So it seems fitting that Texas named the chuckwagon as its official state vehicle in 2005, and also appropriate that the president of the American Chuckwagon Association is a Hill Country native.

       Phil Rodgers is a former vocational ag teacher from Bertram, who entered his first cook-off at Blanco in 2003 with a chuckwagon that he had “pieced together” from an old farm wagon. With a little help from a friend who makes wonderful cobbler, he managed to take second prize overall. The “Rodgers Ranch” team was born. Emma Goodwin is the cobbler lady; she and her two daughters (Sharon Schwartz and Carla Denison) are integral parts of the Rodgers Ranch success story. Goodwin recalls telling Rodgers before the Blanco cook-off, “I’ll go and help you this time.” When they took second prize, she was hooked. “She mixes the ingredients,” Rodgers says. “I cook.” Goodwin’s cobbler has placed thirty-six times since 2003.

       The old wagon has been replaced by a “real” chuckwagon Rodgers purchased in Illinois, but he still doesn’t feel that his wagon is ever the best in the show. “The wagon counts (in the judging)” he says, “but we win on cooking!”

       One of the biggest events on the circuit is the 20-year-old Lincoln County Cowboy Symposium at Ruidoso, NM, which generally attracts about 25 chuckwagons. The cook-offs in Llano and Boerne are close behind, with about 20 wagons at each. Several well-attended cook-offs are held in north Texas and the Texas Panhandle. “There’s a lot of good cooks up there,” Rodgers explains.

By John Hallowell   Wed, Dec 01, 2010

The pianist

By JOHN HALLOWELL

       The little town of Leander, Texas, was only 26 years old when Anna Ray (Craven) Borho was born, and she has personally witnessed more than three-quarters of the now-booming city’s history. She was there when the first car arrived; she saw the first airplane in Leander – it landed in a field behind her home – and she remembers well when the electricity first was turned on in 1939. And since age 15, she has been a mainstay of the historic Leander Presbyterian Church, playing the piano almost every Sunday for more than eighty-five years!

       Our story starts before Anna Ray or Leander were even thought of. It was all the way back in 1854 when an English couple named George and Jane Craven arrived in Texas and settled in “Bagdad Prairie,” on the western side of Williamson County. George was a wheelwright and wagon-builder; Jane became the very first pianist at the “Pleasant Hill Presbyterian Church.”

       By 1880, Bagdad was a stage stop on the route between Austin and Lampasas, and the thriving community boasted a hotel, a school, several general stores, two blacksmith shops and several churches. But Bagdad was doomed by the caution of its business leaders; when the Austin & Northwestern Railroad began to build a track to Burnet in 1882, the little town opposed the idea, and the railroad went a mile to the east.

       It didn’t take long for Bagdad residents to realize their mistake. They began moving their homes and businesses closer to the tracks, where the railroad company sold lots in a new town named for Leander “Catfish” Brown. The congregation from Pleasant Hill formed Leander Presbyterian in 1883.

       Ranching, farming and cedar posts were the main industries in the young town, and Wesley Craven (son of George and Jane) built a cotton gin. By 1890, Leander’s population had grown to 329, and there was a thriving business district by the railroad tracks. Wesley Craven’s children carried on the family’s musical tradition. Henry Roscoe Craven (a mail carrier) played the banjo, violin, bass horn and mandolin; he and his brother, Theodore (who played the trombone) played with a group from Liberty Hill. His sister, Ethel, was the pianist at Leander Presbyterian and taught local children to play the piano.

       Anna Ray, Henry Craven’s oldest daughter, was born in July of 1908, in a small frame house on the west side of the tracks in Leander. She doesn’t remember that home; her parents moved to the other side of the tracks shortly after her birth. She started school at age seven, around the time that the first car arrived in Leander. She was not terribly impressed; “It looked unremarkably like a buggy,” she recalls. Her own family relied on a horse-and-buggy for transportation; she remembers day-trips to visit relatives in Georgetown, when darkness fell before they reached home. “We didn’t have any lights, but it didn’t matter. Our old grey horse, Charlie, knew the way home.”

       Anna Ray was a good student. “I liked spelling and math, but not history,” she recalls. The class would have “bees,” which she often won, in spelling and math; at recess, they would play baseball, croquet, hide-and-seek or drop-the-handkerchief. Her mother made all her clothes by hand, and she has also sewed all her life. At home, she had regular chores, which included cooking breakfast and helping with the housework. She also spent a lot of time practicing her piano-playing. Her Aunt Ethel (the church pianist), was her teacher. Someone from the musically-inclined Craven family had been the pianist since the church’s founding; when her aunt got married in 1923, she chose Anna Ray to play at her wedding. Two years later, Anna Ray became the regular church pianist.

       Most of the small town’s social life revolved around school and the church; Anna Ray remembers playing “ring games” (“sort of like a square dance”) with groups of young people. “It was good exercise and a lot of fun.”

       At that time, Leander’s school system had only ten grades, so Anna Ray graduated in 1925. There were five girls and four boys in her graduating class. Two years later, she attended 11^th grade with four other girls from Leander at Liberty Hill. The girls traveled together, usually in her cousin’s Model T, but sometimes (if the weather was bad) on the train.

       In the meantime, at one of those aforementioned ring games, Anna Ray met the man who would eventually become her husband, Edwin Borho. “I remember that he could really swing you, playing ring games,” she recalls. She and Edwin often double-dated with Elmo Noble and Ollie Mae McSpadden, who also eventually married. A typical date would involve “going riding or going to parties.”

       It was a beautiful day in January of 1935 when Edwin and Anna Ray finally “tied the knot.” He was 24; she was 26. For a honeymoon, they traveled all the way to Austin, where they watched a movie and spent the night at Austin’s historic Driskill Hotel. They were back in Leander the next day, setting up housekeeping in a rented farmhouse and visiting friends.

       It was the middle of the Great Depression, and times were hard for almost everyone. Edwin and Anna Ray had to work hard and long to make ends meet (“We spent a lot of time picking cotton and gathering corn together,” Anna Ray remembers) but they were fortunate in that they “didn’t really want for anything.” Edwin was a farmer, carpenter, grocery store clerk and substitute mail carrier; Anna Ray raised turkeys and chickens and tended the garden when she wasn’t cooking, cleaning or doing the laundry. They didn’t have much money to spend on entertainment, but Anna Ray bought an old “honky tonk” piano “when I sold my first wool,” and church activities kept their social calendar full.

       The young couple were blessed with a son (Curtis) in 1937 and a daughter (Peggy) in 1939. Anna Ray took a part-time job as a postal clerk when they were young, and prevailed on her mother to baby-sit the kids while she was at work.

       After Curtis and Peggy were grown, the Borhos bought a ranch on Brushy Creek which had belonged to Edwin’s grandmother. They fixed the house up just in time to move in at Christmas, in 1957. The ranch became a gathering place for the whole family; when Curtis and Peggy started families of their own, the grandkids would spend their summers playing there by the creek. “They all had their little chores,” Anna Ray points out, “but they’d have so much fun down by the creek.” Sometimes both families (seven grandkids all together) would spend the weekend at the ranch. That meant “a lot of cooking” for Anna Ray, but lots of fun.

       Anna Ray retired from the postal service more than thirty years ago, and Edwin quit farming in 1995, but they remained active in the church – and Anna Ray continued to play the piano every week. She estimates that she has seen between thirty and forty pastors preaching at the old church during her time as pianist.

       Anna Ray smiles as she recalls feeling “old” when she became a grandmother. Thirty years ago, some members of the congregation worried about finding a new pianist to replace her when she retired. But even after her husband passed away in 1999, Anna Ray has continued to serve. Family members live all around her on the now-divided ranch, and she needs to have a ride to church, but she lives on her own in the well-kept ranch house and practices on one of her pianos every day. She is remarkably healthy and active for her age, and still plays the piano remarkably well.

       The home is filled with memories and family treasures, including (among many other things) two pianos and an organ, stacks of aging sheet music, an old table fashioned from harness hames and a wagon wheel, proclamations and newspaper stories honoring her service, a painting of the ranch house done by Anna Ray’s daughter-in-law and an aerial photograph of the ranch from 1993. She keeps a diary, and years ago filled out a book of memories for her granddaughters, which provides a fascinating insight into life in early Leander.

       Anna Ray Borho is one of the last survivors of a remarkable generation who, through hard work and sacrifice, civilized the rugged Texas Hill Country and helped turn it into the vacation and retirement paradise that we enjoy today. It is real honor to have met her.

By John Hallowell   Fri, Nov 26, 2010

Taming the Wild West

By John Hallowell

    I once took a college course in Western Civilization, which covered centuries of (mostly European) progress in the arts and sciences, politics and war, industry and commerce.

    I got another view of “western civilization” over the Christmas holidays, when I read the journal of DeWitt Clinton Thomas, who served as sheriff, soldier, mayor, clerk and judge during the late 1800’s in the Texas Hill Country.

    The abrupt transition from the Wild, Wild West to the stable agricultural communities of the early 1900s was a rough, dangerous time (further complicated by the War Between the States), and the “happy ending” was made possible only by the courage, faith and fortitude of some remarkable people. “De” Thomas was one of those.

    I want to thank Lamar Griffin, of Mullin, for providing the manuscript, written by his great-uncle between 1878 and 1912 in Lampasas.

    DeWitt Clinton Thomas was born on January 22, 1835, in the small town of Moulton, Alabama. His father was a prosperous merchant, but the bankruptcy of a supposed friend left him liable for some sizable debts, and he was forced to sell his business and start over in the “Promised Land” of Texas. The family of seven, accompanied by two orphaned teenagers (brothers) and three slaves, arrived in Burleson County (east of Austin) in the winter of 1844.

    Illness, drought and poor crops made life difficult for the first three years, but in 1848, De’s father purchased 300 acres in what is now Lee County. Masters and slaves lived together in a dirt-floored log cabin. Life wasn’t easy, but De describes the time as “the most happy years of my life.”

    “The country was beautiful beyond description,” Thomas wrote. “Horses, cattle and hogs kept in fine condition on the range and without feed. Deer, turkeys and all kind of small game abounded everywhere. The streams were full of fish, and all my spare moments were spent in the woods. I loved my gun and my dog, and looked anxiously forward every week to the coming Saturday evening. There were half a dozen boys within four or five miles of me, and after a week’s labor we would contrive some way to spend our Saturday evenings together.”

    The farm prospered, and “civilization” made inroads into the area. De’s father was elected County Judge, and De was able to attend school for a few years.

When he was 16, a carpenter came to live with the family, and De became quite proficient in woodworking. He then learned the wheelwright’s trade in a wagon-and-carriage shop. When he was 18, he became a partner in a mail contract, carrying mail between Austin and Caldwell. His share of the contract was $600 per year, and he earned another $30 per month trading horses along the route. “I do not say this boastfully,” he wrote later in life, “but I was never idle.” (He did note, somewhat regretfully, that, as a “ladies’ man,” he spent too much on clothing.) He also wrote, “I lost no opportunity to make a dollar honestly, and at the same time was making for myself a little name and character that has been of service to me since.”

    His promising business career was interrupted in 1861, when Texas seceded from the Union, and a call went out for volunteers to fight the Yankees. De made known his intention to enlist, and eighteen local boys volunteered to go with him. Arriving in San Marcos, he was chosen “Second Lieutenant of Company A, First Regiment of Texas Mounted Rifles.”

    The first order of business was clearing Texas of Union soldiers, and Thomas’s regiment obtained the surrender of the 8^th U.S. Infantry at Castroville. They then guarded the frontier near the present site of Fort Concho for several months before heading to Vicksburg, Mississippi in August of 1862.

    Fourteen months later, while on a scouting mission in the small town of Chulahoma, Thomas was surrounded and captured by Union cavalry. For the next two years, he would be a prisoner of war.

    Much of the journal that Thomas wrote for his children is concerned with his adventures in captivity, and he commented sharply on the difference between the courtesies with which he had treated the 8^th Infantry and the privations he suffered as a Union prisoner. The first year was spent at an old penitentiary at Alton, Illinois, and the second at Fort Delaware, near Philadelphia. Cold, hunger and disease decimated the prison population, and Thomas himself was near death several times, but through it all, though his health was ruined, he won the respect of guards and prisoners alike. When he was chosen as “foreman” of the Texas barracks, his treatment improved, and he was allowed double rations and an extra blanket (which probably saved his life).

I’ll quote a few of De’s tales to illustrate his prison experience:

    “After dark, the first night of my stay in Delaware, I could hear the pat-pat of many feet . . . It was my fellow prisoners running or trotting by the hundreds to keep from freezing. I found after a while that their plan was . . . for part of them to have all the blankets while the others by violent exercise would try to warm up, or at least to keep their blood in circulation. After this detail would become exhausted, they would arouse the others and take charge of the blankets, whilst the ones just aroused would strike the trot to keep from freezing.”

    De Thomas told of “a pair of pants, which had been made out of a very fine Mexican blanket during the winter of 1864. I regretted the necessity of cutting up my fine blanket, but was determined that the Yanks should not have it, and being convinced that they would take it away from me either by force or by stealth, I cut it into pants, and again I was very much in need of them. By wearing these pants of many colors, I was known by every man in prison, both Yankees and Confederates.”

    “Among the attendants at the (dining) tables was one old villain who carried a club, and seemed to delight in walking up and down the tables seeking some pretext to whack a ‘reb’ over the head with his stick. One day, just before dinner, he leaned back against the wall on the inside of the dining room, and this brought his rear over a knothole in the wall. Quick as thought, a prisoner on the outside drew a pen knife, and through the knothole stuck it to the handle in the old scamp’s rear.”

    “The rebs scattered in a hurry to avoid his club, but no one would tell who had a knife.”

    The old coon never knew who knifed him, but flew round with the blood running down his leg and the seat of his pants all gory, striking right and left at everyone he saw. Under almost any other circumstances this would have been too rough for a joke, but we enjoyed it hugely, for he was heartily despised by us all.”

    And, “Large printed bills were posted over the prison stating that  . . . prisoners would be permitted to receive anything by express not contraband of war. Supposing that they might now receive provisions,” more than a thousand captives wrote to friends asking for food and clothing.

    “In a few days, the boxes began to come in, and the old steamboat fairly groaned under her load. They were landed, but at the fort, and from thence carried to the residence of the Commanding Officer, A. Schaeff. This was a cool joke, and the old coon realized about one thousand (or perhaps twelve hundred) boxes of hams, bread, cheese, pickles, preserves, can fruit, apple butter and many other things too good for a rebel. The poor starving fellows could . . . only bite their lips, look sober and, of course, use some very profane language.”

    When the war ended, Thomas took the mandatory oath of allegiance and started for home. He arrived, after four years away, to find his brothers and sisters living in poverty. His parents and a sister had died in his absence, and the family had given him up for dead, as well. De took charge of the family farm, and planted crops, but his strength for manual labor was almost gone, and to earn a living, he decided to run for sheriff.

    Being held in high regard throughout the county, De was easily elected, but resigned his office just a few months later, when “Yankee radicals” replaced Governor James W. Throckmorton with their own choice, E.M. Pease.

    After a short ranching effort in Burnet County, and an aborted cattle drive to California, De took a job with a Lexington merchant named C.P. Vance. He married Vance’s niece, Jennie Lee Hewlett, in 1871 (at the age of 36).

    With Vance’s backing, the couple set up their own business in Lampasas just before the huge flood of 1873. Losing everything and starting over (once again) was not easy, but in 1875, friends persuaded him to run for County Clerk, and his excellent reputation again brought him a convincing victory in the election. In the meantime, three children were born to the happy couple, and it was for them that DeWitt Clinton Thomas began to write his memoirs in 1878.

    It was a grim time for the Texas Hill Country, with outlaw “mobs” ruling the countryside, and carpetbaggers from the North holding all the power in the official government. Honest Southerners such as DeWitt Thomas were under constant pressure to cast in their lot with the outlaws, but he and others held true to their ideals, and “western civilization” is deeply in their debt. As violence raged around him, Thomas sought to do his duty, regardless of the consequences. In 1878, he received the highest number of votes for any candidate in Lampasas County history.

    De Thomas was not one to brag, and much of my impression comes from reading between the lines, and from the newspaper clippings that accompanied the memoirs. He briefly mentions feuds and murders in 1879 and the arrival of the railroad in 1882; he notes the building of “a fine new courthouse” in 1884 and the death of his first-born son in 1885. The insight into his character comes from the pages of good advice that he leaves for his children, and the overwhelming margins of his electoral victories testify that he practiced what he preached. (he says proudly, “I remained in my office and continued my work, without soliciting votes.”) The book, “Texas Personnel,” by L.E. Daniel, quotes General Henry McCulloch as saying, “De Thomas is one of the most honorable and upright of men, and most highly honored and respected by the citizens of Lampasas. He was a brave soldier, and one of God’s noblemen.”

    In 1888, Thomas was elected County Judge (his portrait hangs on the wall at the Lampasas County Courtroom), where he served two terms before retiring in poor health at the age of 57. He was lured out of retirement by the appearance of an upstart third party, which he considered a threat to the welfare of the county (Thomas considered himself a “Jackson Democrat”). In 1900, and once more in 1902, he was handily re-elected; even after retiring from his position as judge at the age of 69, he worked part-time in the County Clerk’s office. The Lampasas County history book says that he also served at least one term as mayor.

    In May of 1902, he wrote, “I have to the best of my ability tried to discharge my duty under the law of the land, have tried to provide for my family and do what I could for suffering humanity. Of course, we are all more or less selfish, but I hope that I have been as kind and charitable to the poor as my circumstances would admit of.”

    “If I had my life to live over again, I know that I could improve on the past, and now only do all in my power to atone for the errors and shortcomings of my youth, relying on strength and wisdom from the only One who can give it; my Heavenly Father.”

    These self-effacing remarks belie the true influence that DeWitt Clinton Thomas exerted in Lampasas County. Shortly before his death in 1917, Thomas listed some 40 noted Texians who had been personal acquaintances. Among them were Governors Sam Houston, James Throckmorton, Richard Coke, J.S. Hogg, and F.R. Lubbock (and those are just the ones I have heard of!). He said then, “Although the above were noted men and have their names in history, they were no better, braver or truer men than my many good friends who toiled for their daily bread . . . If a man is good, kind, high-minded, honest and honorable, I care not what his occupation may be; he is one of nature’s noblemen.”

    This is the kind of person who made the Hill Country what it is today. This is the kind of man who civilized the “Wild West.”

By John Hallowell   Thu, Nov 25, 2010

       It would be impossible to write a story of Swedes in the Hill Country without mentioning Sven Magnus Swenson; although he never lived in the Hill Country and spent his later years in New York City, he was the first Swedish immigrant to settle in Texas and the driving force behind much of the Swedish immigration that followed. And it was Swenson’s cousins, whom he had encouraged to come to Texas, who first settled the area called East Sweden in McCulloch County.

       Swenson left his home in southeastern Sweden at twenty years of age, telling his mother in a letter that “I will get there (to America) someway or another, and I will make my fortune there. That was in 1836, the year that Texas declared its independence from Mexico. He arrived shortly thereafter in New York, where he went to school for two years before sailing to Galveston in 1838. The ship was wrecked just outside of Galveston, and Swenson lost all his possessions, but he was able to collect enough salvage from the wreck to go into business as a peddler. One of his customers, a Dr. Long, became a good friend, and when Dr. Long died in 1842, Swenson married the doctor’s young widow and inherited a plantation with 40 slaves.

       Texas joined the United States in 1845, and looked for settlers to increase its population. Newspapers in Europe extolled the “American Dream,” and published glowing reports of the good land and great opportunities in Texas. Large numbers were coming from Germany, and Swenson decided to recruit some from Sweden as well. He sent for his uncle, Swante Palm and two cousins, Daniel and Carl Hurd. In 1846, Swenson made a journey to Sweden, recruiting more immigrants and bringing his sister, Annie, back with him. In 1854, with his business making money supplying settlers all along the frontier, Swenson turned his attention to acquiring land. By 1860, he owned more than 600,000 acres: 128.000 in the Austin area and nearly 500,000 in West Texas. According to the 1860 census, there were 163 Swedes  in Texas that year; Swenson sent Daniel Hurd back to recruit another 300.

       The war between the states interrupted Swenson’s plans. His Union leanings made him a marked man, and he was forced to flee to Mexico. Swenson never returned to Texas, settling in New Orleans after the war, then moving to Brooklyn, New York. He founded a bank there, but continued to encourage immigration from Sweden. When he died in 1896, his fortune was estimated at $6 million, and there were nearly 9,000 Swedes in Texas.

       Daniel Hurd waited out the war in Sweden, returning to Texas in 1867 with about 100 young pioneers from Sweden. They settled in the Williamson County community of Palm Valley (named for the Swante Palm family, who had first settled there) on S.M. Swenson’s land, where a generous welcome awaited the new immigrants. (Most of the immigrants would work there a couple of years to pay for their voyage across the Atlantic.) That “home base” for Swedish Americans spawned a large number of success stories, including that of the Hurd family in East Sweden.

       Carl Hurd and his wife, Maja Lisa, had moved to Palm Valley from Brazoria County in 1863. Their two sons, Daniel and Leander (“Lee”), went to work for the Southwestern Cattle Company in 1871, driving cattle from Travis and Williamson Counties along the trails to Kansas. Daniel Hurd told years later how his brother Lee was knocked off his horse by a floating log while crossing the rain-swollen Red River. Another cowboy managed to rope the young man and pull him to safety, saving him from death by drowning.

       During their “wild west” adventures, the Hurd brothers explored the area round Onion Creek in McCulloch County, and Daniel Hurd (the nephew of the first Daniel Hurd) decided then that he would eventually settle on the good land there. It was 15 years later that he and Lee brought their families to settle, forming the community of East Sweden with a half-dozen other families (and their sister, Edla), from Palm Valley.

       They built homes in 1888 with lumber they brought from Brownwood, and set out on the back-breaking task of taming the land for farming. Four families donated an acre each at the corner where their properties met, and the community got together to build a 24’ by 40’ church with nine wagonloads of lumber and materials from Brownwood. Although all the families were of Lutheran background, the new church was organized as Presbyterian because the only available preacher was a Presbyterian from Mason. The present East Sweden Presbyterian Church was built in 1921, after the original building was destroyed by a storm. Since 1975, the church has not held regular services, but traditional Christmas Eve services are held each year, and the Hurds still use the building for family gatherings.

       Daniel Hurd and his wife, Lydia, were parents of ten children, all of whom settled in the East Sweden area. Lydia was a Bohemian Jew, famous for her hard work and her frugal ways. Grandson Bobbye Hurd attributes much of the family’s financial success to her and tells how she would kill red ants one by one with a hammer instead of buying poison, and how, when one dress had holes in it, she would simply wear another dress over it rather than buying material for a new dress. The family worked hard and prospered, acquiring and farming large parcels of land. And although much of the next generation (Daniel and Lydia’s grandchildren) scattered after World War II, there are still quite a few Hurds here, and they are still among the largest landowners (somewhere near 85,000 acres) in McCulloch County. Bobbye Hurd explains, “We don’t sell land.”

       Norman and Wayne Hurd were cousins who grew up in Brady and went on to successful careers elsewhere. They formed a partnership in 1969 to develop the world-class resort of Horseshoe Bay on Lake LBJ. Norman’s sister, Francis King (she married John L. King, from Mason County), was a well-known artist with galleries in Santa Fe and Brady. Her son, Frank King, was one of the original contractors working at Horseshoe Bay and founded Bay Maintenance, Inc. He still owns ranches and businesses in Brady. Another son, Luther King, runs an investment company in Fort Worth and owns thousands of acres of land in McCulloch County. Their sister, Karen Bishop, is a long-time fourth-grade teacher in Brady.

       Bobbye Hurd describes himself as “just an old, poor cattle rancher,” who hasn’t achieved the same financial success as his relatives. Even so, he owns a large ranch and a comfortable home near the East Sweden church, and serves as a sort of “anchor” for the family. He renovated the church in 1999 where the family gatherings are held, and serves as the unofficial family historian.

       Swedish immigrants have never been a large percentage of Texas’ population, but their pursuit of the American Dream has had a major impact on the state for years, and this one family’s contributions are still being felt today. What a legacy!

By Gail Hughbanks-Woerner   Thu, Nov 25, 2010

Bud Fitzpatrick is a cowboy. He’s been a cowboy since he was a button and never thought about doing anything else. He is 94 years old and weighs in at about 110 pounds. He calls Bandera, Texas, home and here is his story - - - - - -

Bud was born in St. Paul, Minnesota in 1916 and was plagued with pneumonia. The doctor told his folks if they didn’t move him to a warmer climate he could die. Bud was nine years old when his parents, his two brothers and he, plus the family dog got in a Model T and headed south with all their belongings in a luggage rack tied on the running board. When they finally reached the Texas state line, the road was blocked with cattle. Cowboys were moving a herd from Louisiana into Texas. One of the cowboys, who Bud described as wearing a big hat and all the cowboy trimmings, asked him if he wanted to ride with him. Bud nodded yes and the cowboy pulled him out through the window of the car into the saddle with him. Bud remembered, “As I rode in that saddle, in front of him, and looked at all those cattle through the ears of that horse, I knew right then I never wanted to do anything else except be a cowboy.”

Bud did many cowboy jobs. He worked on dude ranches around Bandera, he worked for private ranches. He also followed the rodeo road for a time and competed in all the roughstock events, but favored bull riding the most. He joined the Cowboy’s Turtle Association, membership number 1114, and rode at some of the biggest rodeos of the day – Madison Square Garden in New York City, Boston Gardens, Minneapolis and Kissimmee, Florida. However the majority of his rodeo competitions were in and around Texas.

Bud remembered, “They gave lots of different things as prizes to the winners at most of the rodeos I rode in, like hats, boots and Levis, but at the Brady Texas Jubilee, held over the 3rd, 4th and 5th of July, 1941 they were giving a buckle to the winner of the Steer Riding. It was on display in the local hotel and all the guys wanted to win that buckle and so did I. I entered the bull riding and we had to ride three head, one each day. I rode my first bull, but on the second one we had a wreck. A loose bull got in to the arena and charged my bull, and knocked me off. When I fell I sprained my wrist. Oh, I knew I’d lost my chance to win, but that night I soaked my wrist real good and on the third day I did ride my last bull and won the buckle. I was so happy.”

Bud wore that prize buckle for years. In Bandera one day he met a gal named Mary, and she was sitting on a horse with a drink in her hand, the horse moved and she slid to the ground, never spilling a drop. Bud said, “That was it, I knew I’d marry that gal.” Three months later they did marry and in time had four children; Eileen, Kathy, Kevin and John. Bud became a farrier, and in time, he became a notable expert on horseshoeing race horses. This led the family to California for a few years, then to Arizona, and in time Bud had been shoeing racers at seventeen different tracks.

One particularly hot day, in 1970, at a race track at Sacramento, CA, caused Bud to take a little time between horseshoeing jobs to go in to the jockey’s area and take a shower to cool off. He left his clothes on a bench and when he returned from the shower his buckle was gone! Inquiring around the track didn’t turn up the buckle, and although he was disappointed, time passed. It was the only buckle Bud ever won and he was so proud of that buckle.

In time Bud retired and returned to live in Bandera. Most of his family were living there and Bandera, known as the Cowboy Capitol of the World, was where he wanted to be, among his peers.

Son, Kevin, became is professional trick roper and during his career has represented the State of Texas at International Chamber of Commerce events as far away as Germany. He has also won the National Texas Skip Contest awarded by the Wild West Arts Club, in Las Vegas, and the World Champion Trick Roper in 2008 at the National Cowboy Symposium at Lubbock, TX. Many other accolades have come his way and he is in constant demand. A few weeks ago he received a call from an antique dealer who phoned Kevin and said, “I have a buckle your father won.” In further conversation it was discovered someone had sold it to the dealer for the price of the silver in it. Unfortunately the antique dealer was hoping to ‘make a killing’ and offered it to Kevin for $4,000!!!! Kevin knew this was outrageous and contacted some friends who advised him to get an attorney. Local cowboy attorney, J. Gary Trichter, used his ‘big guns’ and eventually the antique dealer came to reasonable terms and Kevin got possession of the buckle.

Meanwhile, Bud was totally unaware of what has happened. Kevin invited his dad, Bud, and thirty friends and family to his ranch Saturday, November 20th, and over a few libations and food Kevin got his dad to telling stories of his cowboy days. Everyone listened and laughed to the 94 year old storyteller. In time Kevin asked Bud, “Dad, tell about the time you won the buckle at Brady.”

Bud relayed the history and when he told how it was stolen Kevin placed in front of him a large photograph of the buckle. “Did it look something like this, Dad,” Kevin asked. With dimmed eyes the senior Fitzpatrick scrutinized the photo. “Yes, it was a lot like that.” Then Kevin opened a black velvet box and brought out the buckle. “Is this your buckle, dad”, Kevin asked.

Bud held the buckle gently and looked at Kevin and said, “This is it! Where did you get this?” Everyone around the room was totally silent, not wanting to miss a word of what was being said. Kevin explained to Bud how it had been found and how so many of his friends had rallied to make sure the buckle was returned. It was evident Bud was overwhelmed. He looked at the silver buckle, which was small by today’s prize buckle standards, with the writing “Brady Texas Jubilee, Champion Steer Rider, Bud Fitzpatrick, July 3,4 & 5th, 1941” inscribed on it. They exchanged the prize buckle and the one Bud was wearing and as Bud stood in front of everyone he finally collected his thoughts and said, “I don’t know what to say to you guys. I guess you don’t have to be big to be popular. I sure have a lot of friends!”

On Saturday, November 20th, 2010, Bud Fitzpatrick was the biggest man in Bandera, Texas, Cowboy Capitol of the World, because he was wearing his Champion buckle, and was surrounded by his cowboy family and friends. Miracles do happen.

About the Author:

By John Hallowell   Wed, Nov 24, 2010

Brady’s supermodeler

By JOHN HALLOWELL

       Bert Striegler may not technically be part of the “Greatest Generation.” He was very young when the Great Depression ended, and his military experience was during the Korean War, not World War II (although he recalls that “We thought it was World War III”), but the Brady native exemplifies the courage, resilience and ingenuity of those slightly older, so we’ll consider him an honorary member.

       Striegler’s ancestors came from Denmark, where they had owned a small shoe factory, in the late 1850s, when turmoil in Europe made them seek “greener pastures” in Texas. They settled near Fredericksburg, where the family home still stands, but his parents moved to Brady before he was born in 1931. His father was a pilot and a flight instructor during WW2, who bought and sold used airplanes during the war, and Bert became a model airplane enthusiast at a very young age. When he was just eight years old, he bought his first Brown “E” miniature engine for $7.95 – a huge amount of money for a boy in those days. He and his father built a Model Craft Miss Tiny gas model from a kit (“My dad did most of the work,” he says), and put the Brown-E engine in it for a test flight at the old municipal airport in 1940. There were no remote-control airplanes at that time; most models had a pneumatic timer, and just flew free until the engine was  turned off by the timer. The little airplane took off, circled briefly and headed east across the highway. On the other side of the highway, a girl with a bright smile advertised Wrigley’s Spearmint chewing gum on a billboard; the model airplane hit her gleaming white teeth and fell in pieces to the ground. Bert had trouble keeping the Brown “E” engine running, and ended up selling it to Lecester Moore, who owned a battery and generator shop in Brady, for $5.00 in 1943.

       Despite the inauspicious start, Bert was hooked; for the rest of his life he has been a model airplane enthusiast, and for one year even attended Parks Air College in St. Louis in hopes of becoming an aeronautical engineer.

       In the meantime, while attending Brady High School, he met a beautiful girl of Swedish descent, named Beverly Engdahl. She attended high school in the neighboring town of Rochelle; they were married after his return from St. Louis in 1951. 

       With things looking worse and worse in Korea the previous year, Bert had already enlisted in the Air Force. While he trained at Lackland Air Force Base, Beverly got a job working for a lawyer in San Antonio. Bert was sent overseas in 1952, but he never did get to Korea. He ended up working as a weatherman for fourteen months in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia, where the USAF flew B-29 bombers high over the Mideast, testing atmospheric conditions. (He learned years later that they also were checking for traces of radioactivity near the border of the Soviet Union, hoping for clues to progress of the nuclear program in the USSR.) Cold War tensions were high, and when a Russian reconnaissance plane flew over the base (every Thursday at 10 a.m.), air-raid sirens would be sounded.

       Returning to Texas in 1955, Striegler attended Trinity University on the G.I. Bill, earning a degree in business management and advertising. He got a job with Conoco in 1956 and was trained in Houston as a field Product Engineer. On June 27, 1959, Bert and Beverly were blessed with a brand new baby girl, Michele. The Striegler family's next stop was at Casper, Wyoming where Bert was assigned as a field engineer. He was sent to do a “lube survey” at a large Pacific Power and Light electric plant in Glenrock, Wyoming, near Casper  While working with plant operators to let them know what oil to use where, he noticed a problem with the emergency standby generator just in time to avert a major disaster. “That really launched my career,” he recalls. He later returned to Houston to work in Aviation Sales and was eventually promoted to Manager of Technical Services, in charge of product development and  product quality control, supervising more than 30 field engineers. During his Conoco career, Bert worked in Houston Texas, Ponca City Oklahoma, Casper Wyoming, Albuquerque New Mexico, and eventually back in Houston. He retired in 1990 after 33 years of service with Conoco.

       The whole time, Striegler was very much involved with his hobby of model airplanes and engines. He collected miniature internal combustion engines and met people with similar interests all over the world. One of the approximately 641 engines (from 32 different countries) he has today is a German design called a “Kratmo” used by Hitler Youth groups in the 1930s. During the Cold War, he swapped engines and parts through the mail with several East European and Russian collectors.  Another of his prize possessions is a Russian diesel built during World War II. Others include a replica of “The Elf,” which the 1936 edition of Ripley’s Believe-it-or-Not described as the “smallest internal-combustion engine ever built”. It’s nowhere near the smallest now. Striegler recalls meeting an English engine builder named Derek Giles, who wore his tiny engine as a tie clip. It had a displacement of .1cc, or .006 cubic inches, but it started right up when Giles filled its tank through a hypodermic needle! Giles kindly sent Striegler one of the little engines for his collection.

       Although all of Striegler’s engines are working models, and could be used to power a model airplane, boat or other vehicle, most of them are what Striegler calls “bench babies,” built and collected for their own special traits. (For example, one of his glass cases contains only diesel engines.) Striegler recalls the challenges of fashioning parts for the tiny engines; “We used Aunt Jemima syrup caps for fuel tanks” in one model. “They worked quite well.” He fears that the internal combustion engines are a dying art, since these days electric motors are taking over.

       Through the years, Striegler has been very much involved with the Academy of Model Aeronautics in Muncie, Indiana, and he is one of the original founders of the “Motor Boys,” an elite group of roughly a dozen enthusiasts from the U.S., England and Australia. He has designed kits for large balsa-wood gliders and remote-control airplanes, he has built about sixteen engines from scratch in his backyard machine shop, and has written articles on model airplanes for several magazines.

       One of his most successful designs was a simple little biplane (with about a two-foot wingspan) called the “Ebenezer,” which could be put together by hobbyists, young or old, in just a few hours from flat sheets of balsa wood. The Ebenezer was published in the April, 1958 Aeromodeller Magazine. It caught on especially well in Great Britain, where as many as 250 at a time have been flown at the “model aircraft flying weekends” at the Old Warden Aerodrome in Bedfordshire, England. The big Ebenezer mass launch is still held annually at Old Warden. The little aircraft design is now celebrating its 50^th anniversary and it is still flying!

       Another of his designs was a large remote-control glider called the Gulf Coaster, with a 108” wingspan. Launched with a bungee-cord device, it could climb to an altitude of several hundred feet, cast off the launch line and glide for a long time, depending on the skill of the pilot. Striegler’s longest duration flight with the Gulf Coaster was an hour and twenty minutes; “You’ve got to watch carefully, and learn to find the thermals,” he explains. About 1,500 Gulf Coaster kits were sold all over the world. Striegler published several other model aircraft designs, such as the Boomer Glider in 1977, an enlarged remote controlled Ebenezer in 1999, the Sperry Messenger scale model in 1968 and a tiny little remote control biplane called the Pumpkin Seed in 1963. A foam version of an Ebenezer remote controlled model was recently published by Striegler in the Model Flyer magazine in England in 2008

      On a visit to his parents’ home in Brady, Texas in 1989, Striegler learned that his old friend (shop-keeper Lecester Moore) was terminally ill, and went to visit. Moore had closed his shop years earlier, but the building sat much as he had left it, and Moore was determined to return the old Brown “E” engine. He directed Striegler to a ledge between two rafters at the top of the east wall, where the engine sat, covered with a thick layer of dust. It was the final gift from a dear old friend and mentor. Moore died a few days later. After a good cleaning and tune-up, the engine ran better than it had when it was new some 65 years ago. 65 years of experience made the difference.

       When Bert retired in 1990, the couple returned to Brady. They had a nice home in town, but Bert had promised Beverly’s father that he would come back and live at their family ranch in East Sweden, so they planned and built a new home there just five years later. By then, they were established citizens of Brady, and Bert had been elected president of the town’s historical museum in the old county jail. When they moved out to the ranch (just a few miles east of Brady), he set out to restore all his father-in-law’s elaborate rock work – the old house, barn, water tank and fencing. He then put together a machine shop in the old barn, continuing his engine hobby from the new “headquarters.”

       In 2006, Striegler heard that the last standing WW II building at Brady’s Curtis Air Field was going to be torn down. It was an important historic site, which he remembered from his teen-age years in Brady, when 10,000 WW II pilots were trained there. The building was officially named “Stage House – Parachute Dept” but a control tower had been built on top of it to supervise air traffic at the flight school, and all the pilots entered the building before taking their turns flying. Striegler and his wife, Beverly, along with many museum volunteers, arranged for the building to be moved to a lot behind the Heart of Texas Historical Museum in Brady, where it was restored, along with guard shacks from Curtis Field and the P.O.W. camp, which had housed 3,000 German and Italian prisoners in Brady during the war. An exact replica of the old control tower was built atop the old building, and an old sea-going storage container on the site was decorated with a mural depicting the Vultee Valiant BT-13 training aircraft, which was used at Curtis Field. It took two years of hard work, but the end result was a very impressive World War II Memorial, now officially known as the Striegler Military Complex.

       The Complex was dedicated in a solemn ceremony on Veterans Day, 2007, with a clergyman reading the names of twenty-one airmen who died here during training, and various dignitaries recalling the sacrifices of those who went on to fight in the Pacific and European theaters. Goodfellow AFB in San Angelo sent their Rifle squad to perform a 21-gun salute, and their Flag squad to officially present the colors, dedicated to the 21 men that died here in training, and to the 3,500 of the 10,000 who trained at Curtis Field that died fighting overseas. The Brady Clergy Association declared this site is now designated as Hallowed Ground. Freedom is not free.

       The complex is used as an educational tool as well as a memorial. Hundreds of area students have learned a little about Brady’s contribution to the war effort, and many World War II veterans have come to reminisce at the restored building. For the rest of us, the whole museum is a fascinating and enlightening look at the history of a town that has played an important part in American history.

       Striegler has two bits of wisdom to share. First, he says, “I never met anyone I couldn’t learn something from.” And, “You get things done by starting them.” His many accomplishments bear witness to the truth of those mottoes.

       So even if Bert Striegler is not technically a part of the generation that overcame the Great Depression and won World War II, he has definitely earned a place of honor with them. His ingenuity and dedication have enriched the Texas Hill Country, and we are proud to recognize him here.     

By John Hallowell   Wed, Nov 17, 2010

       To illustrate some of the dangers the first Hill Country pioneers faced, I’m going to tell you the story of an early community called Strickling, and how it fits into Texas history.

       Captain John Webster was a plantation owner in Virginia when Texas declared its independence from Mexico in 1836, but the stories he heard appealed to his adventurous disposition, and he sold his plantation to come to Texas. Bringing forty-four like-minded men with him, he joined the fight against the Mexicans. Almost half his men were killed and more were wounded, but Captain Webster survived the war and purchased a large tract of land along the North Fork of the San Gabriel River in what is now Burnet County.

       Under President Mirabeau B. Lamar, the Republic of Texas sent the Texas Rangers on an aggressive campaign to end Indian depredation and expand the frontier, and while Comanches still roamed the Hill Country freely, they had suffered a string of military losses.

       In the spring of 1839, Captain Webster took his family (his wife, a 10-year-old son and a 3-year-old daughter), thirteen men and four wagons north from Bastrop County to form a settlement on his new land. Another group was to follow with more wagons and a herd of cattle. Just six miles from the spot where Webster planned to build a fort, the settlers spotted a band of around 300 Comanche warriors, and turned back, hoping to reach the safety of Austin (which itself was still just a cluster of cabins). They were overtaken near Brushy Creek, and after a day-long battle all fourteen men were killed. Mrs. Webster and her two children were taken prisoner, and a wild celebration was held by the whole Comanche tribe at Enchanted Rock, in what is now Llano County.

       Though many of their captives were tortured and killed, the Comanches had by that time collected about thirty prisoners. As their losses to the Texas Rangers mounted, some of their chiefs arranged peace talks with state officials in San Antonio, and promised (for a generous ransom payment) to return all the prisoners. Before the date of the meeting, however, the chiefs changed their minds, and decided to bring only one prisoner with them to the meeting. Fearing trouble, Mrs. Webster took her daughter, Virginia, and fled from the camp into the West Texas wilderness.

       The prisoner that the Comanches chose to return was 16-year-old Matilda Lockhart, who had been horribly tortured and abused during a two-year captivity. She was an intelligent girl who had quickly learned the Comanche language, and she was able to tell the Texans about the chiefs’ strategy and deception. Her report, combined with the sight of her disfigured face and scarred body, infuriated the Texans, who then informed the chiefs that they would remain as prisoners in San Antonio until all the white prisoners had been released. A fight immediately broke out, in which thirteen Comanche chiefs and at least seventeen family members were killed. The widow of Chief Buffalo Hump was sent to arrange the return of the white prisoners to San Antonio, but when she delivered the news to the Comanches, all the remaining prisoners were tortured to death in an orgy of furious revenge.

       Despite her genteel Virginia upbringing, Mrs. Webster was a strong woman. Carrying her little daughter most of the 300-mile journey from Devil’s River to San Antonio, she traveled at night, avoiding marked trails and watering places and hiding during the day to escape detection. Nearly starved, and too weak even to cry out, she was discovered by a Mexican wagon train three miles from the city.

       In the meantime, hundreds of Comanche warriors had joined in outrage at the killing of their chiefs. They rode around San Antonio, deep into the settled area of Texas. John J. Linn of Victoria recalled the campaign in his 1883 memoirs: “We of Victoria were startled by the apparition presented by the sudden appearance of six hundred mounted Comanches in the immediate outskirts of the village.” The Comanches killed a few people and burned a house outside the town, but seemed more interested in stealing horses and looting the town than fighting a battle. They rode on to Linnville, where again they killed a few people and plundered the town.

       By this time, the alarm had spread across Texas, and a group of Texas Rangers, regular army soldiers and local militia men met the Comanches at Plum Creek, near Lockhart. The Comanches were hampered by the enormous amount of loot they were carrying, and eyewitnesses described a “ludicrous” sight as the naked warriors donned fine cloth coats, top hats and fashionable shoes. They had spread calico over their horses, and trailed hundreds of yards of brightly colored ribbon. A huge herd of stolen horses also complicated their movements, and when the battle began, the Comanches were quickly routed. It was the beginning of the end for the Comanches, but the war would continue another forty years. During those forty years, no settler in the Texas Hill Country felt completely safe.

       This was the world which a few hundred unsuspecting German immigrants were about to enter, and any understanding of that world will help us appreciate their amazing accomplishments when we visit the charming town of Fredericksburg today.

       Mrs. Webster never fully recovered from her ordeal, and she died just a few years later. But her courage and strength lived on in her young daughter; at age sixteen, Virginia Webster went back to the land that had cost her parents’ lives, and founded a small community in the wilderness of newly-formed Burnet County. The next year, she married Marmaduke Strickling (also spelled Strickland in some documents, including her memoirs!) and gave his name to the little town. One of the settlers was William Black, who built a private fort to protect the community from the Comanches.

    By 1856, Strickling was an important stage stop on the Austin to Lampasas route (according to the Handbook of Texas Online), and a post office was established in 1857. A school, a church, and several businesses prospered during the years that the town was on a major transportation route, but in the 1880s a decline began. The Austin and Northwestern Railroad bypassed Strickling in 1882, and when the stage line was discontinued later that decade, the town lost much of its vitality. Its population was reported as sixty in 1884 and in 1890, but by the mid-1890s its post office had been discontinued, and most of its residents had moved away. By 1900 the last store had closed. A cemetery was all that marked the site on county highway maps in the 1980s.

       You can read some of Virginia Webster’s remarkable story (as told to the San Antonio Express-News in 1913) at: www.rootsweb.com/~txburnet/WebsterMassacre.html. (She died in 1927, in Oakland, California.).

By John Hallowell   Wed, Nov 17, 2010

       To a casual traveler, the Hill Country town of Mason exemplifies the calm security of rural living. Families and small business occupy well-cared-for, comfortably-spaced older buildings on tree-lined, not-too-busy streets. The stately courthouse and the historic shops and offices around it give the impression of character and community pride from generations past. Not even the historic rock jail building on the south side of the square would lead observers to guess that Mason was, 132 years ago, the center of one of the most violent “peacetime” episodes in Texas history.

       Mason was founded in the 1850s, but it was after the Civil War that it really began to grow. Battles with the Indians were winding down by the mid-1870s, and Mason became a center for the booming cattle business. The first county courthouse and jail were built in 1869, but there was very little organized authority, and oftentimes settlers had to defend their rights as they saw fit.

       Most of the established settlers in Mason were farmers, and of German descent. As the value of rangeland and cattle skyrocketed after the war, they began to feel pressure from ranchers (often of Scotch-Irish descent), who rounded up stray cattle on the open range and herded them to market. Mavericking (rounding up any cattle without a brand) was considered a legitimate practice by the ranchers, but farmers complained that many of their cattle were stolen by over-zealous or dishonest cattlemen. Some of the most militant farmers joined in “vigilance committees” to protect their property from rustlers.

       Things were getting out of hand already before John Clark was elected sheriff of Mason County in 1873, but his actions definitely seemed to make the situation worse, and it was on his watch in 1875 that the tension erupted into an all-out war between the factions. Many of the facts have been obscured by the passing time, and even the names of some key participants are spelled differently in different accounts. Of the several different versions, I depended most on the Mason County Historical Commission’s “The Hoo-Doo War: Portraits of a Lawless Time.” I will try to stick to the generally accepted facts as I summarize the events here.

       Although the Hill Country was a haven for many who had run afoul of the law, and although Indians and even renegade Mexicans sometime carried out cattle-stealing raids, most of the injured farmers’ animosity was directed at neighboring ranchers. As rustling increased, and the “law” seemed unable to prevent it, the farmers became more radical. Three ranchers were found murdered in 1874 and early 1875, and the third, 17-year-old Allen Bolt, had a note pinned to his body, reading “He would not stop rustling.”

       In August of 1874, Sheriff Clark arrested eleven men as they drove a herd of cattle in western Llano County. They were respected ranchers, led by M.B. Thomas, foreman for the A.G. Roberts Ranch in Burnet and Llano Counties. The eleven were jailed in Mason, but friends led a posse into Mason County to pay their fines and arrange their release. On the way home, the disgruntled ranchers (whose herd had long since scattered) burned the Art Methodist Church, which was attended by many of the German farmers. Back in Llano County, they filed charges against Sheriff Clark, who was then indicted for false imprisonment and robbery. The charges were later dropped.

       On February 13, 1875, Sheriff Clark once again crossed county lines (this time into McCulloch County) to arrest a group of nine cattlemen. The nine posted bond, and four left Mason County immediately; the remaining five were re-arrested and locked up in the Mason County Jail. They didn’t stay there long; a hooded mob broke into the jail and removed the prisoners while Sheriff Clark and Lieutenant Dan Roberts of the Texas Rangers watched from across the street at the Mason House Hotel (see photo above). By the time Sheriff Clark obtained horses and followed the mob, four of the prisoners had been hanged. Pete and Lige Baccus were already dead, as was Abe Wiggins. Tom Turley was still alive, and the sheriff cut him down. Charley Johnson escaped the mob and turned himself in to the Texas Rangers camped southwest of town. Rumors circulated that the sheriff was the secret leader of the mob, but most of the farmers strongly supported him, and he remained in office.

       Tim Williamson was a well-liked and respected cattleman, who worked as foreman on the ranch of Charley Lehmberg. He and his wife had taken in a boy named Scott Cooley, who was part Cherokee Indian, and raised him as their own son. Cooley joined the Texas Rangers at age 19, but was working on a ranch in Menard County in 1875, when Williamson was arrested for rustling a calf. Mason county Tick and Hide Inspector Daniel Hoerster posted bond for Williamson, and he was temporarily released. On May 13, Hoerster revoked Williamson’s bail, and Sheriff Clark sent Deputy John Wohrle to bring Williamson back to the Mason County Jail. They never made it.

       Rancher Charley Lehmberg accompanied the pair as they rode toward Mason, expecting to post bond for his trusted foreman. As the trio reached Willow Creek, they were approached by a mob of more than twenty men. Williamson begged Deputy Wohrle for permission to flee the mob, but the deputy instead shot Williamson’s horse to prevent his escape. Peter Bader, who was leading the mob, shot Williamson twice, killing him instantly.

       The “law” made no attempt to find the killers of Tim Williamson, but his friends were not so reticent. Former Ranger Scott Cooley came to Mason in July, listening to gossip in the town until he was sure he knew the killers’ identities. On August 10, he went to the home of Deputy Sheriff John Wohrle and shot him through the head. Joining with John and Moses Baird, influential Burnet County ranchers, and George Gladden, he set out to exact revenge for the murder of his foster father. Two or three of the partners approached Carl Bader on August 19 in a field near his home in Castell. One engaged him in conversation while another rode up behind him and shot him in the head.

       Suspecting Moses Baird and George Gladden, Sheriff Clark had a man named Jim Cheney lure the pair into Mason County, where they were ambushed by a posse that included Peter Bader at John Keller’s store near Hedwig’s Hill. Baird died from his wounds, and Bader cut off his finger to remove a gold ring: apparently an act of revenge for his brother’s killing. Gladden recovered from his wounds, and joined Cooley and John Baird in Mason a couple of weeks later. A friend of the Bairds, named John Ringo, killed Jim Cheney on September 24.

       As Inspector Daniel Hoerster returned to town with two co-workers on September 27, he was ambushed and killed on the public square. His friends returned fire, wounding George Gladden (again), but all the assailants escaped. Sheriff Clark resigned his office and left town shortly thereafter, but a detachment of Texas Rangers under Major John B. Jones moved into Mason and began to restore order. Scott Cooley and John Ringo were arrested in Burnet County on other charges, and the “war” was almost over. On January 13, 1876, Peter Bader was shot and killed. George Gladden was convicted of that murder, and sentenced to 99 years in prison.

       In January of 1877, the Mason County Courthouse burned to the ground, and with it all records that might have been used to bring some of the guilty to justice. The Hoo Doo War of Mason County was officially over, and Mason began to grow and prosper.      

By John Hallowell   Tue, Nov 16, 2010

       All the signs are good for an excellent hunting season this year. That's good news for hunters, and it's good news for the Texas Hill Country. Especially for Llano, which bills itself as "The Deer Capital of Texas," hunting season provides a huge boost for the local economy.

       As in many areas (in our humble opinion), Texas leads the nation in the number of deer and the number of hunters. Above-average rains most of the past year led to an explosion of vegetation, which in turn has resulted in a large population of very healthy deer. At the same time, the economy in Texas has begun to recover from last year's recession, and hunters are feeling more comfortable with their spending money.

       A lot of that spending money comes to Llano County, where thousands of hunters shell out as much as $8 million in a good year. Probably $3 million goes to property owners for hunting leases; the rest goes to area merchants, restaurants and other affected businesses. The economic ripples reach almost everyone in the county. "Hunters may not buy a vehicle from the local dealer," says Bryan Miiller, of Miiller's Llano Smoke House. "But I do."

       Miiller's benefits two different ways from the influx of hunters. Not only does the plant process around 2,000 deer each winter, but hunters stock up on Miiller's jerky and other groceries for their time in the wild. During some of its earlier years, the 25-year old business "wouldn't have survived" without hunting season. Now diversified, the Llano Smokehouse is one of the leading businesses in Llano, supplying restaurants with wholesale sausage and online customers with a variety of mail-order products (see www.miillerssmokehouse.com).

       Josh Rode, of Llano Feed and Supply, says his family's business gets a huge boost from hunters, beginning early in the fall. On opening weekend, he estimates corn sales (for deer feeders) at 48 tons, and  sales average about 18 tons a week through the remainder of deer season. Super S groceries reports a similar boom in business each fall, as do all the restaurants in town (especially Cooper's BBQ and the aptly-named "Jessie's Hungry Hunter").

       While Llano may be the "Deer Capital," it is certainly not the only town to benefit from the annual hunting season. Junction is the county seat of Kimble County, another county known for wide open spaces and abundant wildlife. All the smaller towns and less-populated counties celebrate hunting season. Even Kerr County, with its larger towns, has a large deer population and looks forward eagerly to the arrival of the hunters.

Interesting facts (from Texas Parks & Wildlife):

• Texas’ white-tailed deer herd, estimated to hold 4 million animals, is the largest in 
the nation, more than twice the number of any other state.

• An estimated 648,686 Texans hunted deer during the 2009-10 season, according 
to Texas Parks and Wildlife Department surveys. That was a record number of deer hunters, up from a record 645,398 the previous season.

• Not surprising considering the costs associated with deer hunting, the average household income for Texas deer hunters ($66,316) is higher than the state average ($43,425).

• Whitetails are found in all 10 of Texas’ ecological regions. But the majority of the deer and deer hunters are found in three regions: Edwards Plateau (Hill Country of Central Texas), East Texas’ Pineywoods and South Texas brush country.

• During a typical season over the past decade, an average of 60 percent of Texas deer hunters took at least one deer. This past season’s success rate of 57 percent was the lowest in the past decade. Two ecological regions — Edwards Plateau (the Hill Country) and South Texas — typically lead all other areas in deer hunter success. This past season, 69 percent of deer hunters in the Edwards Plateau and 64 percent in South Texas took at least one deer.

By John Hallowell   Mon, Nov 15, 2010

       “I had a very unique opportunity as a person,” says Carole Goble, who was recently honored as a “Woman of Distinction” by the Lone Star Council of the Girl Scouts in Austin. Readers of the Texas Hill Country magazine will be familiar with Carole’s tales of rural life during the Depression, but there’s a lot more to the Carole Goble story than growing up on a farm, and this latest honor was richly deserved by our own quiet Hill Country hero.

       Carole’s grandparents, who were to play a large part in her upbringing, were sheep ranchers from Frio County and neighbors of the famous Texas Ranger, “Bigfoot” Wallace (her grandfather enjoyed listening to Wallace’s stories as a young boy). They moved to a ranch near the small community of Prairie Point, about five miles north of Bertram, when Carole’s mother was nine years old.

       Carole’s father was born Zakaus Normann Stiegen in Tonsberg, Norway, in 1903. A talented artist, he was already teaching at one of Norway’s leading art schools when, at the age of nineteen, he decided to visit America.

       He traveled first to Duluth, Minnesota, where his mother’s brother lived. But he had a great desire to visit Texas (then and now, the people of Norway have been greatly enamored of Texas) and soon headed south, where he decided to further his education at the University of Texas in Austin. To pay his expenses, he took a job with the Bradford Paint Company, giving private art lessons.

       Carole’s mother, Fanny Velma Harris, was a junior in high school when she spent the summer in Austin with her older sister, a student at Durham’s Business School. She took art lessons at the Bradford Paint Company, and soon fell in love with her young Norwegian teacher. They were married the next spring, in 1928, and opened their own business, selling handmade gifts and giving art lessons at their small shop in Austin. Carole’s first home was a white clapboard house just a block from the state capitol, with a big front porch and a beautifully landscaped yard.

       The idyllic life was rudely interrupted by the Great Depression, and much of Carole’s life through her teenage years was spent on her grandparents’ ranch. She learned the basics of life from her grandmother, working hard to just get by during the depression and then the war. She attended school in Bertram.

       In the meantime, Carole’s parents were pursuing their artistic careers. In 1936, they worked together on a painting and a quilt for a patriotic art contest to celebrate the 100^th anniversary of Texas Independence. The painting, The Reading of the Texas Declaration of Independence, and the quilt, The Presidents, with portraits of all the U.S. presidents around a picture of the signing of the U.S. Declaration of Independence, immediately became the focal point of the state fair, and eventually were displayed in Washington, D.C. They both are now in the Star of the Republic Museum at Washington-on-the-Brazos.

       After serving in the U.S. Army as a cartographer during World War II and becoming a naturalized citizen as Charles Berkeley Normann in 1946, Carole’s father went on to a distinguished career as art director at the Texas School of Fine Arts in Austin. He also painted portraits and murals all over Texas, including a “Heroes of Texas” series which was published in a popular book by Texian Press in 1964. “He could paint so incredibly fast,” Carole recalls, “He could do a beautiful painting in 30 minutes.”

       Carole’s mother, after earning a Fine Arts degree at the University of Texas, also distinguished herself as a painter, teacher, writer and philosopher. The combination of down-to-earth basic life skills and soaring intellectual vision that Carol learned from her grandparents and her parents has served her well all her life.

       Carole met Bill Goble when they were “kids on the sidewalk, waiting to get into the movie” in Bertram. Bill was from the nearby town of Briggs, so they didn’t go to school together, but Bertram was the “big” town with a movie theatre and all kinds of business establishments. On Saturdays, folks from miles around would converge on downtown Bertram for a day of shopping and socializing. In high school, Bill dated Carole’s friend, and Carole dated Bill’s friend; the two couples would often double-date, and Bill and Carole became good friends – much better friends than they realized.

       Bill joined the Air Force after high school, and Carole didn’t see him for two years. She was working at the prestigious Scarbrough’s Department Store in downtown Austin, in anticipation of entering the University of Texas, when “Bill came walking down Congress Avenue.” He had just got off the bus, and needed a ride home. Carole told him that there was a shower scheduled in Austin that evening for some mutual friends, and that he could get a ride home from there. They spent the day talking, went to the shower together, and “Before we got home that night, we were engaged,” Carole recalls.

       Bill and Carole were married on December 1, 1949. Bill was called back to active duty during the Korean War, then enlisted in the Marine Corps, so the first twenty-some years of their married life involved a lot of moving, mostly up and down the east coast from their home base at Norfolk, Virginia.

       During a stint at Parris Island, one of Bill’s friends, a drill instructor named Bill Love, was chosen to play a recruit in Jack Webb’s movie “The DI.” That was very interesting, since the movie was filmed there on the base, but Carole says, “I didn’t have any big adventures at all. I raised eight kids!”

       In fact, Carole claims that her life has been “very common-place, really. You get up in the morning and do whatever you need to; whatever falls in your lap to do.” Following that modest philosophy faithfully, Carole has accumulated an uncommon number of “common-place” achievements and a long list of honors culminating in the “Woman of Distinction” title this spring.

       A Girl Scout herself during her younger days, Carole became very active with the Girl Scouts as her family grew. Then it was Boy Scouts, Sunday School, PTA, the Red Cross, the March of Dimes, etc., etc. She did custom sewing and dressmaking (one of her customers was a prominent local TV personality), including costumes for the community theater. She worked outside the home a few times when it was necessary, and learned weaving while working at a 28’ loom for the Moore Company in North Carolina. During these times, Bill did an enormous amount of writing for the Marine Corps schools (textbooks, course material, etc. -- part of his job as instructor of Naval Justice); Carole wrote frequent articles and reports for her many associations, but did not consider herself a “writer.”

       When Bill retired from the Marines (after a tour in Vietnam) in 1971, the family moved back to Bertram. Bill bought and operated a service station while “decompressing,” then worked a several years with the Lower Colorado River Authority (LCRA) before taking a job as zoning administrator with the city of Burnet. Since both had always been very interested in history (“My family stressed, ‘Know where you came from,” Carole says), they soon became involved in several local historical groups. Among other duties, they did research for genealogies, family histories and historical markers in Burnet County. When locals held the first living-history Fort Croghan Day in the mid-eighties, Bill and Carole were two of the volunteers. The next year, they were members of the Burnet Heritage Society and helped with the planning. Carole became a member of the Burnet County Historical Commission in the early 90s (a post she still holds today), and Bill began to write a weekly “Bertram News” column for the Burnet Bulletin (“We kind of helped each other on that,” Carole says.)

       When Bill died suddenly in 2000, Carole carried on with his newspaper column (“I wrote the very next column. We didn’t miss a week,” she recalls) and her community activities increased. She lobbied the city to create the Burnet Historical Board, and (as chairman) helped create the city’s historical district. She convinced the city of Burnet to build the (recently-completed) History Maze on the Courthouse Lawn, and accepted a position as director of the Fort Croghan Museum. She volunteered as a pantry-worker and food-buyer (she still serves on the board) for LACare, the community food bank; she is a past president of the VFW Auxiliary and present president of the American Legion Auxiliary. She is a member of the Prairie Flower Garden Club, Friends of the Bertram Library and an elder in the First Christian Church in Bertram. And, she is a contributing writer to the Texas Hill Country magazine!

       In between these organized activities, Carole continues to do “whatever falls into her lap,” and many of her good deeds are not listed here. But enough of her activities are recognized so that accolades keep coming her way. She has been nominated three times for Burnet County Woman of the Year, named Volunteer of the Year for the Lakes Area Food Bank, presented with the Judge Thomas A. Ferguson Honor Award for Outstanding Citizen by the Burnet Chamber of Commerce, named a Picayune Hero by a local newspaper for her accomplishments in Burnet County, and featured as an “outstanding small-town reporter” by the Austin American-Statesman.

       Carole’s legacy will live long in Burnet and elsewhere; her children, grandchildren (there’s 9) and great-grandchildren (11, so far) have inherited the family’s musical and artistic talents, and have earned a great reputation in the community and beyond. This “common-place” life has made a lasting mark, and we are proud to be associated with Carole Goble.

By John Hallowell   Sun, Nov 14, 2010

       It began when a fly fisherman named Martin Pursch arrived in the Texas Hill Country from Seattle. In 1990, he opened the Country Fly Fishers Shop (located on Goehmann Lane in Fredericksburg, about two miles north of Highway 290). In 2001, he and a friend (Mark Cole) decided to form a club; about ten local enthusiasts showed up for the first meeting of the "Heart of the Hills Fly Fishers."

       The club grew rapidly, and soon was too big for the small shop. It now meets in the Fredericksburg EMS building as the "Fredericksburg Fly Fishers," and seeks to raise public awareness of the sport by holding various entertaining and educational events throughout the year. One of their main events (the brainchild of club member Steve Rawls) is the annual Oktoberfisch, held at Morgan Shady Park, on the South Llano River in Junction.

       Morgan Shady Park is a beautiful park just south of downtown Junction, with expanses of green grass shaded by a grove of mature pecan trees on the west bank of the South Llano River. It offers plenty of space for 100-plus fishermen (and wannabes) from all around Texas to camp and enjoy a weekend of great fly fishing. Activities include exhibitor booths, streamside lectures, casting classes, canoeing and kayaking, campfires, raffles, and even a catered steak dinner on Saturday night.

       Oktoberfisch is not only a great way to spread the word about the joys of fly fishing; it's a wonderful introduction to the charms of Junction and the sparkling South Llano River. This scenic jewel of the Texas Hill Country has escaped the notice of too many Texans; we'll do what we can to correct that unfortunate situation.

By John Hallowell   Sat, Nov 13, 2010

     To anyone who might think that home-schooling will stunt a child’s cultural growth, we’d like to introduce Camille Sanders. The 15-year-old Hill Country native has lived in the same house all her life, in a rural area far from any city. Her parents are not musicians, and Camille did not sing in public until she was 13, but she has learned ballet dancing and five musical instruments (some self-taught), has performed for large audiences at several Hill Country venues, and even appeared on television in San Antonio last year. This summer, she was accepted into an elite Los Angeles acting camp run by Adrian R’Mante of the Disney Channel’s Suite Life of Zach and Cody.

       Of course, Camille has had a number of serendipitous factors to help in her fast-track career. The first may have been her grandfather, an economics professor named Howard Yeargan (but known to Camille simply as “Da”) who used to play the piano and sing at churches. Da and “Ma” (Susan Yeargan) formed a partnership with his parents to buy a campground on the Frio River in 1970; and it was here, to Yeargan’s River Bend on the Frio River, that former teachers Paul and Beth Sanders moved in 1992.

       “Caitlynn (Camille’s older sister, now in college) was six months old, and we didn’t want to put her in daycare,” Beth explains. “We moved here to manage the campground.”

       Camille was born four years later; she has lived here all her life, and has never been to public school. “I was even baptized right here in the river,” she recalls. She works summers in the campground office, and some of her best friends are campers who come back each summer to camp at River Bend, but she does get away from the campground sometimes, participating in activities with a home school co-op.

       And now she performs! She began learning very early to play the piano and sing with her beloved Da (her other grandparents are Caddo and Ruby Sanders of San Marcos). When she was nine years old, she began to take violin lessons with local music teacher Dick Walker. “It was quickly apparent that Camille was a remarkable person,” Walker says. “She has already surpassed the level most people achieve in a lifetime, and if she continues to perfect her skills, nothing would surprise me.” She began to play the violin at churches to accompany Da, then played for diners at a steakhouse in Vail, Colorado, which happens to be managed by her mother’s first cousin. Soon she was opening for big-name bands at the House Pasture Restaurant in Concan. Last year, she began singing in public; now singing is a main part of her performances.

       By now, she plays five instruments: piano, fiddle, guitar, mandolin and banjo; she hopes soon to learn the steel guitar. Her guitar skills came quite abruptly, when she was asked to open for Gary P. Nunn. With just a month to learn, she taught herself in her own room; her performance went off without a hitch.

       A few weeks later (July 7, 2009), she was featured on KENS5’s “Great Day S.A.” TV show in San Antonio. Then family friend Roddy Peeples, himself a well-known radio broadcaster, recommended Camille to country music promoter Tracy Pitcox, of Brady, who invited her to appear at his Country Oprys in Mason and Llano this spring. She was an instant hit.

       Camille sings all kinds of country music: classic, gospel and modern. Her favorite singers are George Strait, Alison Krauss, and the Jonas Brothers. She also likes Brad Paisley and Alan Jackson (although she used to call him “Apple” Jackson). If she couldn’t perform, she thinks she’d want to be a zookeeper (she loves flamingoes!). But she can, and does, perform, so she auditioned for a slot in an acting camp run by Adrian R’Mante (of the Disney Channel’s Suite Life of Zack and Cody) in Los Angeles. Only 50 applicants were accepted, but you won’t be surprised to hear that Camille was one of them. She traveled to California this summer.

       While Camille has many interests and talents, music is her first love, and she hopes that it will become her career. She already has a demo CD prepared for groups or venues which might be interested in hiring her (for bookings, call Paul Sanders at 830-591-7791 or email ten107@hctc.net), and was hoping her “real” CD, recorded in Nashville a couple of months ago, would be ready before her 15^th birthday this October. She has already opened for well-known singers like Pat Green, the Bellamy Brothers, Barbara Fairchild, and has sung with Kyle Park, Cory Morrow, Randy Rogers and many others. She even sang for former governor Dolph Briscoe!

       On December 11, she'll be giving a special performance at a Cystic Fibrosis fundraiser in memory of a neighbor who succumbed to the disease in 2006, just before her 14th birthday. Kelsi Robinson's parents, Greg and Michelle, started a foundation called "Kelsi's Kind Heart" to honor their daughter's memory and to help find a cure for cystic fibrosis (see www.kelsiskindheart.com for more information on the foundation and the Uvalde fundraiser).

       This may be the first you’ve heard of Camille Sanders, but it probably won’t be the last. As violin teacher Dick Walker says, “We don’t know yet how good she is.” It will be very interesting to follow her career.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Nov 04, 2010

Kerrville -- the remarkable little city in the Heart of the Texas Hill Country

       In a region tamed only by decades of back-breaking labor, Kerrville has become the unofficial capital of a new Texas Hill Country economy based on tourism, recreation and retirement.

       A woodcutter named Joshua Brown is recognized as Kerrville's founder; he led a group of ten shingle-makers to the upper Guadalupe River in 1846 (the same year that Fredericksburg was founded twenty-five miles to the northeast), where a grove of huge cypress trees provided them plenty of work.

       When Brown's little settlement became the seat of a new county ten years later, he named it Kerrsville after his friend, Major James Kerr (the "s" was dropped from the town's name in 1866). The town grew only very slowly until after its all-time greatest citizen returned from the Civil War in 1865.

       Charles Schreiner was born in France, the son of an Alsatian dentist who came to Texas (and who died of a rattlesnake bite two weeks after his arrival) when Charles was 14. Charles joined the Texas Rangers at age 16, then entered the cattle business in Turtle Creek (a few miles south of Kerrsville) at age 19 (in 1857). A year later, he and his brother-in-law purchased a small store at Camp Verde, where the U.S. Army was conducting its famous experiment with camels.

       In 1860, Schreiner married Mary Magdalena Enderle, of San Antonio, but shortly after they built their cabin in Turtle Creek, the Civil War began and he joined the Confederate Army. For three-and-a-half years, Lena kept the home fires burning while her husband fought the Union army. It wasn't easy in the best of times; during the war, it was harder. Emboldened Comanches  terrorized the Texas frontier while the men were away, and the first thing Schreiner did upon his return was to help form a home guard unit to defend the town. The title of "Captain" stuck with him the rest of his life.

       Schreiner was elected as county and district clerk in 1866, then as county treasurer in 1868 (a post that he held for the next 30 years). He opened a store in Kerrville in 1869, with financial backing from August Faltin, of Comfort. The 30-by-60-foot cypress-board building became the center of Kerrville's economy. Schreiner bought out his partner, expanded the store, and built a fine mansion (now the Hill Country Museum). In 1887, he was instrumental in bringing the railroad to Kerrville. In 1889, he opened the Charles Schreiner Bank, and introduced a water system and telephone service to Kerrville in the 1890s. By 1900, he had made Kerrville the "Wool and Mohair Capital of the World," and his Y.O. Ranch encompassed 600,000 acres to the west of Kerrville.

       During his later years, Schreiner became a leading philanthropist, contributing to churches and schools, helping to restore the Alamo, and establishing Schreiner University in Kerrville. When he died in 1927, Kerrville schools closed down and church bells rang for an hour. The San Antonio Express eulogized him as "an intrepid and dominant figure in Texas history" in a front-page story.

       Other leading Kerrville citizens were Captain Joseph Tivy, a former Texas Ranger and Kerrville mayor who donated land for the city's first permanent public school; and Sid Peterson, a prominent rancher whose sons founded the Sid Peterson Hospital -- the recently-torn-down predecessor of today's fabulous new Peterson Regional Medical Center. Howard E. Butt came to Kerrville as a boy, and went on to build the H.E.B. grocery empire; James Avery built a thriving business in Kerrville with his unique jewelry.

       Kerrville's beautiful scenery, and the recreational opportunities afforded by the sparkling waters of the Guadalupe River, attracted a number of summer camps (beginning with Camp Rio Vista in 1921), where thousands of Texas young people enjoyed their summers. Many of those campers are among today's sophisticated and prosperous retirees, who have helped bring many cultural and recreational amenities to the still-relatively-small city (just 20,425 in the 2000 census).

       Kerrville today is recognized for its quality museums, theaters and art galleries, as well as for excellent healthcare facilities and wide variety of shopping options. It boasts several different musical  and theater arts groups.  Beautiful parks line the Guadalupe River, and the Riverside Nature Center (in downtown Kerrville) provides a fascinating lesson in the flora and fauna of the Texas Hill Country. The Kerrville Folk Festival  attracts quality musicians to Kerrville each spring, and the State Arts & Crafts Fair complements the year-round work of the Kerrville Arts & Cultural Center. The Kerr County Fair (in October) is one of several events reflecting the county's agricultural heritage; Schreiner University holds a "Texas Heritage Music Day" to honor former Kerrville resident Jimmie Rodgers and other pioneers of Texas music.

       Three golf courses cater to Kerrville's retirees, and the Kerrville area provides many other outdoor recreational opportunities: hunting, fishing, birding, hiking, boating and bicycling are among the activities Kerrville's residents and visitors enjoy. Kerrville's active Chamber of commerce maintains a busy schedule of civic events, as well. Visit www.kerrvilletx.com or www.kerrvilletexascvb.com for more details, and pay Kerrville a visit soon! You'll see why so many make it their Texas Hill Country choice for day trips, vacations and comfortable retirements.

By Robbis Storm   Fri, Oct 29, 2010

A Texas Hill Country tradition celebrates 60 years

       A Hill Country icon just celebrated a significant birthday. Storms Drive In in Lampasas – known across Central Texas and much of the Lone Star State for juicy, old-timey hamburgers, “real potato” French fries, and hand-mixed malts and shakes – is now 60 years old.
       Sixty years – that’s a long time for a restaurant to be in business – especially in the same family. I may have been only six years old, but I well remember that first day – September 23, 1950 – when my parents, Jim and IraDell Storm, opened their little eatery on the highway in the small Hill Country town of Lampasas. Back then the world was a simpler place. Most cars on the road were painted basic black, sported running boards, and weren’t decorated with chrome, fins, or even dual headlights. Only six years earlier, World War II had ended and the United States was doing its best to get back to normal.
But what was normal? Certainly not what we think of today. Facebook, MySpace, Blogs, Twitter, YouTube, email, fiber optics, eBay, iPhones, VCRs, CDs, DVDs – just a few words in today’s vocabulary that six decades ago, no one had dreamed of, much less heard in everyday conversation.
       So what was “normal?” Well, the world and American culture may have changed immensely in the last six decades, but two things just don’t seem ever to go out of style – automobiles and hamburgers: the perfect mix for a drive-in restaurant. And six decades ago, Mom and Dad sold – literally – tons of burgers, as well as French fries, malts and shakes, and the then new rage – soft ice cream.
       One reason the burgers tasted different was that Dad started the tradition of grinding his own natural, 100% beef – a practice we still follow today in our government-inspected meat processing plant in Lampasas. The Storm family drive-in – then called “The Dairy Cue” – quickly became a popular hangout for Lampasas teenagers. Young people then, as now, loved their popular music and I remember one night when Dad came home from work all excited about a new singer he’d heard on a teenage customer’s radio—Elvis Presley.
       In just a few years, Elvis was more than Dad’s favorite singer – the “King of Rock ‘n’ Roll” also became a customer. While he was stationed at nearby Fort Hood, Elvis became a frequent patron at the Lampasas restaurant. I only got to wait on him once, but Mom took his order a number of times. She and I both agreed he was very polite, very quiet and did nothing to suggest he was a celebrity. Over the years, Storm’s has had its share of celebrity customers, including the rock group Aerosmith, golfer Byron Nelson, wrestler Gorgeous George, film actor Zachary Scott, and others long forgotten.
       One of the issues of the 1950s was civil rights. Dad had worked many years with minorities, all of whom he respected and liked, so I guess it was natural for him to say that his restaurant and restrooms were open to men and women of all colors. This policy was unusual in the South, but when asked about it, Dad would grin and say something like, “We’re in the service business. The only color we’re interested in, is green – the color of money.” In fact, Dad was far more interested in people than in money. Many times I saw him feed hungry strangers who didn’t have the 35 cents it took for a burger and a Coke.
       Dad retired in 1971 when I took over the reins. Three years later I changed the name from “Dairy Cue” to “Storm’s.” Long-time manager Kenneth Miiller became my partner and in 1984 we opened a second location in Burnet. A couple of years later we opened the Storm’s in Hamilton and in time, additional locations in Marble Falls and Belton. Much of Storm’s success is due to the hard work and dedication of its managers. After Miiller’s death, Mike Green became manager in Lampasas. Clint Connolly manages the Burnet store, Mike Kolodziej in Hamilton, Justin Mather in Marble Falls, and Kenny Murray in Belton. Each of these men – as well as several other staff members -- has worked at Storm’s for at least 20 years, which says a lot about their loyalty to the organization.
       Over the years, Storm’s has garnered its share of awards. Texas Highways Magazine listed it in its "Top Ten Burgers" in the state. Southern Living Magazine has twice mentioned Storm's as one of the best hamburgers in the South. Texas Monthly , Austin Chronicle, and The Food Channel’s "Best Of" series have all given it rave reviews. Perhaps the best notice Storm’s has received was from Biker Billy who scours the USA on his Harley searching out great road food. In one of his travel books he says, "a Storm’s Special burger with double cheese is worth riding a thousand miles for."
A thousand miles is a long ways to ride and sixty years is a long time for a restaurant to survive. We must be doing something right!
 

By Robbis Storm

By John Hallowell   Tue, Oct 26, 2010

Blind Man with a Vision

The amazing adventures of General Adam Johnson

       Adam Rankin Johnson is, without doubt, Burnet County’s greatest hero. The county was among the wildest places in the west when Johnson moved here in 1854, but the twenty-year-old Kentuckian proved equal to every adversity, and then some. At various stages in his life, he was an Indian fighter, a Confederate general, the founder of Marble Falls (after being severely wounded during the war) and the only blind man on record to lead a cattle drive. Combining the best traits of legendary figures as diverse as Robin Hood, Daniel Boone and Helen Keller, Johnson gained celebrity status across the South, and had an enormous impact on our area’s history. Every Texan can be proud of Adam Johnson’s amazing achievements.   

       Adam Johnson’s boyhood was a perfect preparation for his exploits in later life: the son of a prominent physician in Henderson, he enjoyed a freedom to roam the forests and fields, while acquiring a superb education during evening hours at home. At the age of eight he was allowed the use of a gun, and became an expert shot and a great hunter. He also learned to swim well. He was healthy, strong, and active, and quickly became a leader of the other boys. James R. Holloway, who later fought for the Union army, described Adam as a born leader: “He was ever characterized by a genius in designing and a boldness in executing, and got us in and out of many scrapes.” (1)  His keen powers of observation and his decisiveness would serve him well all his life.

     At the age of twelve, Adam was hired by a pharmacist who preferred pleasure to work and left the business almost entirely to Adam’s care. Adam managed the store for three years until, at the age of sixteen, he accepted a job at a factory and was put in charge of eighty workers. His study of human nature and his enormous personal energy helped him set production records, but at age twenty the restless young man decided to go west.

     Thinking that surveying would be a profitable occupation as the area became more populated, Adam took a job with a party of surveyors, and soon found himself marveling at the beauty and untapped power of the wild Colorado River. Always a visionary, he marked boulders on both sides of the river where he thought a dam should be built. Eighty years later, Buchanan Dam was built at his location. At the site of the “great marble falls” twenty-some miles south, he envisioned a major industrial city powered by the enormous energy of the river. (2)

       His travels soon led to a series of run-ins with the Indians who were resisting the incursions of the white men. Serving as county surveyor and as an agent for the Overland Mail as far west as El Paso, Adam developed a keen instinct for responding to danger; sometimes boldly attacking, sometimes making cunning escapes. When the Civil War began in 1861 Adam Johnson could say, “Perhaps I was more frequently engaged in battle with the Indians than any other man upon the Plains,” yet “When I was personally present none of my men or stock was ever lost.” By that time, he had tired of the fighting and was ready to settle down with his new wife (Josephine Eastland, of Austin) in his new home (Rocky Rest, on the west side of Hamilton Creek, in Burnet), but the greatest adventures of his life were still ahead of him.

       Despite his new wife, new home, and a promising future, Adam Johnson joined the Confederate army as soon as Texas seceded from the Union. He was soon paired with Robert Martin as a scout for Colonel Nathan Bedford Forrest. The two went through adventures that would have made Robin Hood or Davy Crockett seem tame in comparison, and though perhaps Bob Martin was the more reckless of the two, he was certainly no more effective as a soldier. Fighting much of the war behind enemy lines, as described in his book “The Partisan Rangers of the Confederate States Army,” Johnson reached the rank of Brigadier General, and constantly bedeviled the superior forces of the Union Army. His most famous escapade, the subject of the book “Thunder From a Clear Sky,” was the capture of the Federal arsenal in Newburg, Indiana.

     As Johnson himself told the story, he and his twenty-seven men prepared for the attack across the Ohio River by manufacturing two “cannons” from old wagon wheels, a charred log, and a stovepipe. They aimed the “cannons” at the town from the most visible spot on the Kentucky side of the river, then Johnson and two of his men crossed the river in a skiff, heading directly toward the house where the guns were stored, while Martin and the other twenty-four men crossed the river on a ferry a few miles upstream, to attack the town by road.

       The guns were unguarded, and the three men began to barricade the doors and windows to wait for Martin, when they noticed a number of men in a nearby hotel. Johnson walked to the double doors of the hotel and found himself facing the guns of eighty armed men. Telling them that they were about to be surrounded, he convinced them to lay down their guns and surrender. When Martin arrived, they filled two wagons with rifles and took them to waiting boats. As several citizens tried to organize the two hundred and fifty “Home Guards” for an attack, Johnson shouted to them that he would leave peaceably with the guns, but, gesturing toward the “cannons” on the other side of the river, threatened to shell the town to the ground if attacked. No one attacked, and the twenty-seven arrived safely back in Kentucky with all the guns they could carry. The Union Army massed troops at every town on the Ohio, fearing a repeat performance, and the London Times had a lengthy editorial upon the importance of this first town captured north of the Mason-Dixon Line. Twenty-seven men had struck fear into the hearts of the North. (3)

     In July of 1864, General Johnson divided his force into three groups to attempt the capture of a Union force numbering three or four hundred. About fifty of the Union soldiers surrendered to General Johnson himself. As he led them back toward his lines, one group of his men mistook them for attackers and fired at the Union soldiers. A musket ball struck General Johnson in the right eye and, exiting the left temple, cut out both eyes. Southern newspapers mistakenly published his obituary (58 years early) (3), but he was held prisoner by the Union army until his wife found him at the end of the war. Johnson returned to Burnet County in September of 1865, blind, sick, and penniless.

         The county itself was not much better off. Conditions were generally bad for the few poverty-stricken survivors of the war, and General Johnson, choosing to face the dangers of Indians rather than the meanness of Reconstruction agents, moved to Honey Creek Cove in Llano County in 1867. There, he built (mostly by himself) (4) a home from square-cut dolomite which lasted until it was torn down in 1971. In the fall of 1867, General Johnson led a cattle drive along the dangerous trail to Fort Worth, bringing back cash and provisions for the beleaguered settlers. (General Johnson is probably the only blind man to lead a cattle drive. He did it at least twice.)  In 1869, after increasingly brutal attacks by the Comanches, General Johnson organized the settlers into “minute-men” to respond to any danger. This led to several conclusive victories for the settlers, and the Indian attacks subsided. In the meantime, Adam and Josephine, both accustomed to plenty, were forced to do the menial chores of subsistence farmers. Both did their jobs well, and the farm prospered.

        In 1872, General Johnson sold his ranch and cattle, and returned to Burnet, where he re-opened the land office he had opened before the war. The sad condition of the town persuaded him to open a store and raise a subscription for a stone schoolhouse. One of his next undertakings was a paper known as “The Western Texas Advertiser”, which touted the healthfulness and resources of Burnet County. Though unable to see, General Johnson had not lost his fighting spirit; in 1874, when the Reconstruction governor, Edmund J. Davis, temporarily refused to yield his seat to the popularly elected governor, Richard Coke, the blind general decided to help send him packing. A marker on the Burnet County Courthouse lawn declares, “Johnson went to the Capitol, and posted himself atop the stairs with his old army six-shooter to fire down into the basement at the Davis forces, if necessary.” (10) (Fortunately, no attack was necessary; Davis gave up, and relinquished power voluntarily.)

       Recognizing the value of the granite in Burnet County, General Johnson raised capital and donated land to build a railroad in 1882. He was instrumental in persuading the state to use Burnet County granite to build the new capitol building.

       In 1884, the Johnsons moved three miles to Airy Mount, a gracious home that General Johnson had built facing the new railroad on a rise just east of Burnet.

       His familiarity with the land from his surveying days was invaluable in his land business, and drove him to pursue his earlier dream of building a city by the “great marble falls” of the Colorado River. His dream became a reality after the arrival of the railroad, and in 1887 he began selling lots in “his” town of Marble Falls.

     The general’s land company continued to prosper with the growth of Burnet and Marble Falls. In 1890, he published a catalog entitled “Homes in Texas, 200,000 Acres of Valuable Land for Sale”. One of the listings was for “4400 acres, 6 miles SW of Burnet; 2 dwelling houses, everlasting water, no better grazing land in Texas, all under 5-wire fence: price $3.00 per acre ; terms easy”. Another recommended a “nice residence, 300 yds. from public square; rents without trouble at $12.00 per month, price $800.00”.

       General Johnson’s office was at the end of a long, uncarpeted hall, and admirers reported that “he knows the footfall of every citizen of the town and county.”

       Sometimes strangers would come to the office. The ex-governor of Texas, Francis R. Lubbock, wrote of General Johnson, “He wore green goggles, would receive strangers in his office, point out on the map the various lands, describe them most accurately, for he knew every acre he described, having surveyed the land. The parties would leave the office, never dreaming that he was blind.” (1)

       When Johnson traveled in his later years, he was usually accompanied by Earl Moore, the son of former slaves who came to Marble Falls as a three-year-old during “the stagecoach days.” At the Herman Brown Free Library in Burnet, I saw a handwritten letter from Mr. Moore, in which he said, “As I grew in stature, I became the eyes of the best friend I have ever known, the one and only General Adam Johnson. I led him to all of his business trips and meetings, both in and out of this small city (Marble Falls).”

Johnson’s granddaughter, Mana Josephine “Jo” Hammond, who still lives in Burnet, remembers leading her grandfather around the Burnet square when she was a little girl. (11)

       Johnson’s children inherited their parents’ strength of character, and several went on to noteworthy achievements of their own. Adam Rankin Jr. became city manager of Austin, and helped make it into a modern, growing city. (6) A grandson and a great-grandson (both named Adam Rankin Johnson, as well) became professional baseball players. (11) Great-grandson Ross Johnson is a prominent businessman in Marble Falls today. (11)

       When General Adam R. Johnson died in 1922, his body was laid in state at the Capitol Building in Austin, while thousands around the state of Texas paid their last respects. Streets and parks in several towns are named after him. A portrait of the general, painted by his granddaughter, Glory Posey, (11) still hangs in the lobby of the Marble Falls city hall. Ray Mulesky of Evansville, Indiana, has recently written a book (“Thunder From a Clear Sky”) detailing his capture of the federal arsenal in the town of Newburg, Indiana. That exploit was described by a Union officer as “the most reckless, but most successful military master stroke achieved” (9)  by either army during the war. Very few have ever lived a life of such courage, honor, and vision. We in Burnet County can be proud to honor his memory.

Sources: 1) The main source for this paper was Adam Johnson’s autobiography, Partisan Rangers of the Confederate States Army, which includes commentaries on the general’s life from several acquaintances and admirers.

2) Blind Builder, by Adam Johnson’s daughter, Mary Johnson Posey; published in the Frontier Times Summer, 1959.

3) Deceived in Newburgh, by Michael B. Ballard; published in the Civil War Times December 1982

4) General Johnson in Llano County; published in the Marble Falls Highlander March 30, 1972

5) Types of Successful Men of Texas, by L. E. Daniell, 1890; re-published in the Marble Falls Messenger “Re-Dedication Issue” May 26, 1962

6) Frontier Times, November 1940

7) Marble Falls Born; published in the Marble Falls Highlander June 25, 1959

8) Austin American Statesman (clipping from 1962 re-dedication ceremony?)

9) Thunder From a Clear Sky by Ray Mulesky, 2004

10) Historical Marker on Burnet County Courthouse lawn

11) Certain details were confirmed in conversations with Ross Johnson, Jo Hammond (who approved this paper), Glory Posey, and Rankin Johnson. I also have in my possession a replica of Rankin Johnson’s 1941 baseball card, which says he pitched for the Philadelphia A’s that year.

By John Hallowell   Fri, Oct 22, 2010

Castell -- Historic Farming Community becomes "Luckenbach on the Llano"

The tiny town of Castell, a historic farming community on the Llano River in western Llano County, trades on its history, character and imagination to transform itself into "Luckenbach on the Llano."

       Castell is the oldest continuous settlement in Llano County. It began when German immigrants Ludwig Schneider and Heinrich Vasterling arrived in 1847; Schneider built the first known log cabin in Llano County on the north bank of the Llano River. A small settlement (named for Count Carl Frederick Castell-Castell, business manager of the German Adelsverein) grew around Schneider's home, but the "town center" moved several times. A post office was built on the north side of the river in 1872, but several businesses were established on the south side. When it came time to build a school, in 1884, a site on the south side of the river was chosen.

       Life was hard in early Castell, and for several years the community depended on supplies from Fredericksburg (a 4-day, 50-mile round trip by wagon) to survive. The hard life bred tough people; a few Castell residents were major participants in Mason County's Hoo Doo War, and quite a few more distinguished themselves as Texas Rangers. By the early 20th century, Castell was a thriving town with several churches and general stores, two doctors and a dentist, a cotton gin, blacksmith's shop, hotel, saloon and telephone office. In 1929, a third classroom was added to the two-room schoolhouse.

       A combination of drought, depression and world war brought decline to the little town. Castell's school was closed in 1948, and the few remaining schoolchildren were sent to Llano's schools. The population, mostly descendants of the early German immigrant families continued to shrink, until only 23 residents were counted in the early years of the 21st century.

       A resurgence of sorts has come to the historic farming community during the past few years, with a campground, general store and bed-and-breakfast lodgings leading the way. The old school (now a community center) has been renovated, and graves of at least 17 former Texas Rangers have received historical markers. The rustic charm and scenic countryside attracts thousands of visitors every year, and regular live music has led some to call Castell "Luckenbach on the Llano." Castell has become a favorite stop for motorcyclists, and an annual kayak race draws hundreds of outdoor enthusiasts to the area.

       But the main attraction continues to be the beautiful Llano River, just as it was in the very beginning of Castell's history. Fishing, swimming, kayaking, canoeing and even prospecting for gold are among the recreational opportunities, and it offers an ideal setting for pure relaxation. Life in Castell has changed dramatically from the rugged early days; we're sure you'd enjoy a visit!

By John Hallowell   Wed, Oct 06, 2010

Llano River Adventure

by John Hallowell

       “I may not be the only one who’s done it,” admits Dr. David Hoerster, “but I can almost guarantee that I’m the oldest.” “It” is a 125-mile kayak trip from Telegraph to Kingsland – almost the entire navigable length of the Llano River. “And it’s longer than that by canoe or kayak,” Dr. Hoerster explains, pointing out that there’s a lot of back-and-forth across the river. “Sometimes, in really shallow water, you’ve got to get out and push the boat along.”

       Dr. Hoerster first thought about making the trip three or four years ago (when he was only 54 or 55 years old), and the idea had been growing in his mind for quite some time. Some time last spring (when he was 57), he mentioned the idea to his nephew, Davis Willman and family friend Andy Virdell, both college students. While neither was able to commit to making the whole trip, both liked the idea and agreed to start the trip with him near the historic Kimble County community of Telegraph.

       Now, Dr. Hoerster is no stranger to the Llano River. His family was one of the earliest pioneer families in the area, and one of the most influential. He himself has lived in Llano all his life; he wasn’t very old when his father, Dr. Dan Hoerster, introduced him to the joys of fishing on the Llano River. Things were a little more relaxed back in the 50s, and Dr. Dan was well known to ranchers all around, so it was no big deal for the family of seven (three boys, two girls) to just go camping on the riverbank.

       By the time he had reached junior high school age, David was an avid fisherman. He and his two younger brothers would often go fishing with their friends, the three Wallace boys, at the lake below the dam just upstream from Llano. When David was a junior in high school, he planned what he now calls his “first escapade,” where he, his brother, and two cousins, floated down the river in “beat up canoes” on a two-day trip to Kingsland. He remembers that they had no sunscreen, and were badly sunburned by the time they reached their destination, but it didn’t discourage him from making the same trip “at least 20 times” in the intervening years. As a matter of fact, he had explored the river as far west as White’s Crossing in Mason County. But this particular recent adventure took him farther west, and more than forty percent of the distance was new territory for the intrepid doctor.

       Dr. Hoerster planned the trip carefully, and “trained lightly” for a couple of weeks before the trip. He chose as his starting point the southernmost low water crossing on Highway 377, just a couple of miles from the old Telegraph store. The trio put into the river on Tuesday afternoon (May 26), carrying a tent, a small Coleman cooker (“It will boil water in five minutes,” Dr. Hoerster explains), a small supply of water and dried foods, and one change of dry clothes to sleep in. They built a fire each night where they camped, usually on an island in the middle of the river.

       The first leg of the trip, on the south branch of the river, passes through the beautiful scenery of the South Llano River State Park and 700 Springs, an area so beautiful that it was chosen for the filming of the 2007 movie, River’s End, produced by Glen Stephens and starring Barry Corbin. The weather was good and three kayakers were having a wonderful time. They stopped to camp the first night just upstream from Junction.

       The scenery was still beautiful after they passed Junction and followed the river’s meandering path through the unspoiled Hill Country to the east, but the miles of paddling weren’t exactly easy. When Davis got out of the river at FM 1871 the third day, he was “almost worn out.” That night there was a thunderstorm, and the two remaining kayakers had to move their camp from a sand bar in the river up on to the river bank. Andy went as far as the Hwy 87 bridge (the starting point for the Great Castell Kayak Race just eight days later) before he (and the tent) had to leave the river.

       Dr. Hoerster kept paddling. He knew he had to get to Castell that day to have any hope of completing the trip on Saturday, so it was a tremendous relief to come around a bend and see the church steeple reaching into the sky. He stopped in Castell for a barbecue sandwich before continuing on with his trip.

       That night, Dr. Hoerster camped with just a thin backpacker’s “ground pack” on a rock below Schneider’s Slab, under the stars. He got started early the next morning (“a beautiful morning,” he recalls), figuring he had to make it to town by noon to stay on schedule. “I got frustrated once,” he remembers. “There were real hard rapids by the Slator Ranch.” But at 10:58, he could see the bridge in Llano. He used his cell phone to call his wife, Malinda, who met him in Llano with “a Subway sandwich and Gatorade.” He “gave her everything but the drinking water,” and was back in the river before 1 p.m.

       The end was almost in sight, but Dr. Hoerster still had a pretty tight schedule. “I was still worried,” he says. “I knew I had to make it to the crossing (off Hwy 29 in eastern Llano County) by 4:30, so I kept paddling hard.”

       He made it to the crossing at precisely 3:08, and knew that he could easily make it to Kingsland by nightfall. “I relaxed for the last 3 or 4 hours,” he remembers, smiling. “I swam and explored in some of my favorite spots, watched the wildlife, and just enjoyed the scenery.” He arrived at his destination, the Kingsland Slab, somewhere between 7 and 8 p.m. only to find that his cell phone battery was dead. Fortunately, he saw his friends, Ken and Jean Rostrum, driving across the slab, and was able to wave them down. “I must have looked bad,” he says. “They kept wanting to give me water, but all I needed was a cell phone. At that point, I could have kept on going quite a bit farther.”

       It was a huge adventure, and Dr. Hoerster admits that it gave him “tremendous satisfaction” to successfully complete the trip. His adventure meant even more to him because of the memories that it rekindled in his mind. “I paddled by the first place my dad ever took me fishing,” he recalls. “Also, the last place I fished with him, and the first place I took my son to fish.” It reminded him, too, of times that “Malinda and I went canoeing when we were engaged.” It was a wonderful experience to be “immersed in God’s creation” along the mostly unspoiled river, and perhaps most of all, at 57 years old, “I can almost guarantee I’m the oldest” to travel the length of the Llano River by kayak. Congratulations to Dr. David Hoerster!

By Tyler Albrecht   Wed, Aug 04, 2010

By Ralph Steen   Fri, Jul 30, 2010

By Kenn Knopp   Tue, Jul 20, 2010

 MS 1. THEY CAME BEFORE THE GERMANS…
  The Allure of the Texas Hill Country… The Spaniards Arrive…
SPAIN ABSCONDS WITH AZTEC TREASURES AND HUNTS FOR GOLD IN TEXAS
The Spanish and the Portuguese, since the voyages of Christopher Columbus in 1492, have
long been in search of the riches of the Western Hemisphere. The Spanish Conquistadors under
the helm of Herman Cortes reached America in 1519. He named the site of his landing Vera Cruz,
now an important port city of Mexico. The leader of the Aztecs, Montezuma, in Central Mexico,
upon hearing of the invaders coming ashore, sent Cortes offers or overtures of peace in the form
of gold and fine gifts. These gestures only whipped up the greed and excitement of the Spaniards
to find the source for the gold and silver all the more.
Making their way inland to Montezuma’s throne after much sinister wheeling and dealing, the
cunning Cortes soon brought the Aztecs to their knees after only two years in 1521. King Carlos V
of Spain made Hernan Cortes the governor and commander of this new found country they named
New Spain in 1522. Finding and shipping gold and other valuables to King Carlos was part of
Cortes’ strategy to keep himself in the king’s good favor. Cortes died in 1547 and was buried in
Mexico City’s main plaza.
Cortes was replaced by Antonio de Mendoza and steady streams of fresh new troops followed
him into New Spain. Many new colonies or territories were opened up, or conquered: Honduras
(south), Kansas (north), and New Orleans (east) where the natural resources, such as gold, silver,
and other minerals, were exploited. Wherever these conquistadors went they built presidios (forts)
and missions so that the missionaries could teach the natives the Spanish language, religion, and
their new culture. (1 MS I. I-a)
Expeditions from Spain continued to make their way into South and Central America and into
North America. By the 1700’s they were setting up presidios and missions in south, west, and east
Texas from San Antonio de Bexar to Mission San Saba at Menard, to their mission near
Nacogdoches where they hoped to block the French from crossing the Sabine into the Tejas
Territory. Franciscan monks from Spain under the direction of the venerable friar, Antonio Margill,
founded Mission San Jose in 1720 about four miles south of downtown San Antonio. Even today
San Jose is the most beautiful of all the Texas missions built by the Spaniards. (1 MS I. I-b)
The San Saba mine was referred to as La Mina de Los Almagres. The Indians, especially the
Comanches, in what is now the Texas Hill Country fought the Spanish persistently with relentless
ferocity. Eventually Comanches caused the Spanish to flee and retreat to the San Antonio de
Bexar area, now called San Antonio. German Texan historian, Wolfram M. Von-Maszewski,
purports that the Spanish gold and silver mines just might never have been all that productive
anyway. But holding territory was thought to be worth their while. Each presidio and mission
needed to be supported. Each had a vault of money or gold. Upon being overrun, the Spanish did
not always get to take these valuables or treasures with them, if they were lucky enough to retreat
at all. Thus, buried or hidden gold became the object of searches of presidios and missions that
were overrun. Spanish expeditions continued until Mexico received its independence. Then,
through the years Mexico, and others, kept searching for the legendary or hidden gold and silver.
(1 MS I. I-c)
An area in present day Llano County, only a few miles from the present town of Llano, off
Highway 16 South to the southeast, was also the object of intense interest since the latter 1700’s.
A mountain containing red ore was located in what is now called the Riley Mountains. Twentythree
soldiers under the command of Bernardo de Miranda y Flores left San Antonio on February
17, 1756, were led to the ore site by Lipan Apache guides. Samples were gleaned and sent to
Mexico for appraisal with the results generating little interest. However, all the activity and troop
movements were enough to keep the legend alive.
The governor of Tamaulipas sent Captain Ortiz Parrilla to the San Saba mission and presidio
just outside of present-day Menard to work the mine. Reports were that 1 1/2 ounces of silver
could be realized from 75 pounds of ore. Again, the fierce Comanches, perhaps numbering 6,000
or so, put up with the intruders for just so long. The slag heaps the Spaniards left on the bank of
the San Saba River served, however, to fire the imagination of later treasure-seekers. In the
1820’s when Stephen F. Austin first began dealing with the leaders of Mexico about bringing
settlers from the American South into what is now East Texas; he learned the stories of the silver
and the gold mines and buried Spanish treasures of the Hill Country. Suspicion is, Austin just
might have added these probable silver and gold mine areas to his maps around 1829 in order to
entice more settlers to sign on. (1 MS I. I-d)
The Texas province of Mexico was ruled by Spain until 1827 and also included New Mexico
and Colorado. Intermarriage between royals of Spain and Germany was going on at that time as
attested by the speech of Prince Johannes (Hans) von Sachsen-Altenburg who spoke about his
family’s long held interest in the gold and other precious metals in Texas. (1 MS I. I-e) The
Spanish troops were far outnumbered by the various tribes of the Comanche People in Central and
West Texas. This caused the Spanish leaders in Texas and Mexico to be most cooperative and
generous with Americans who were looking for land grants and wished to settle in Texas, such as
Moses and Stephen F. Austin in 1821. (1 MS I. I-f)
Interest in the mines of Mexico in the state of Tamaulipas, which included what is now Texas,
existed on the part of German speculators as far back as 1817. Baron Johann von Racknitz
Ludwigsburg of Wuerttemberg, after learning of the expeditions by earlier Europeans, also became
intrigued by the possibility of discovering gold in the Texas Hill Country. He was interested in the
profits to be made by bringing German immigrants to Texas, acquisition of land, and searching for
the lost San Saba gold and mines. According to Texas German historian, Rudolph L. Biesele,
Racknitz’s Tamaulipas Mina expedition was ill-fated, probably because of the same relentless
attacks by the Indians who were intent on protecting their turf. (1 MS I. I-g) Also, Von Racknitz
continued to be enthralled with the Texas Hill Country so that in 1834 he was still actively trying to
secure land on which to settle German colonists. Political turbulence (the siege of the Alamo by
Mexican forces happened in 1836) and other factors, perhaps illnesses and his age, as well as
vengeful Indians kept getting into the way of his plans. But the idea of gold in the hills of Texas did
not die out. It never has, and probably never will.
Only eight years after Freiherr Von Racknitz’s time, other royals of Germany picked up the
search for the Golden Grail of Texas. The “Zauber Stein” or Enchanted Rock, regarded as holy by
the Indians, belonged to a system of batholitic granite mountains, one of them a half-mile high,
attracted Germany’s best geomorphologists. Among these were Duke Paul von Wuerttemberg,
Baron Ottfried Hans von Meusebach (John O. Meusebach, the founder of the city of Friedrichsburg
as well as the village of Loyal Valley), and the pre-eminent paleontologist, Dr. Ferdinand von
Roemer of Hildesheim, Germany.

Notes are found on the last story of this series, http://texas-hill-country.com/issue/texas-hill-country/article/twentieth-century-the-lure-continues 

By Kenn Knopp   Tue, Jul 20, 2010

TWENTIETH CENTURY...THE LURE CONTINUES
It is interesting to note the careers of John O. Meusebach’s progeny. His son Ernst was a mining engineer in Mexico. His second son, Jago, also became a mining engineer. Another firstf ounder of Friedrichsburg of royal rank, Wilhelm Marschall von Bieberstein of Hahnstaetten in the Taunus Forest near Frankfurt-am-Main, whose family was in charge of the militia of the Duke of Saxony (according to Prince Hans von Sachsen), broke all precedent and advice and bought land near the Llano river in what became the western most part of present-day Llano County. Cattle and land became his business in Texas. But the cheap price of the land, ore, and legends of this area may very well have been in the back of his mind causing him to leave the “civilization and culture” of Friedrichsburg. Meusebach’s daughter, Antonie, married Wilhelm Marschal von Bieberstein’s son Otto in 1850.
In 1917 into this lineage was born the great-grandson of John O. Meusebach and Wilhelm
Marschall von Bieberstein, Herbert William “Bill” Marschall Jr. (von Bieberstein). Bill Marschall and
his wife Modena, from their beautiful vantage point on Windcrest Hill overlooking Fredericksburg
enjoy their retirement by sitting on their veranda talking about their life’s endeavor in geology, oil
and gas developing, and land speculating. It all fits hand and glove into this royal family’s long
heritage, experience and expertise in evaluating land, water (especially flowing springs), and
precious metals. (1 MS I. I-m)
Another collector of Texas history, Ira Kennedy, born near the town of San Saba, published
several intriguing stories about the San Saba mines. The newspaper, The San Saba News,
reported on June 24, 1887, that a Mr. A. Fitzgerald of Mexico with many years of first hand
experience in developing and mining for gold and silver paid Mr. Rufe Hoover of Hoover’s Valley
$10,000 for 640 acres of land about 14 miles southwest of Burnet in Burnet County. Fitzgerald
learned of the ore from old records of the Spanish and Mexican government. The details of the
records were so accurate he was able to come to Burnet County and locate the old San Saba
Mines easily. Fitzgerald was 73 years of age and has had many years of experience in successful
mining of mineral deposits. There is no further news of Fitzgerald achieving any success.
A Mr. John Haas of the Bowser community told The San Saba News on November 10, 1899,
that a Dr. Kelso was on his property convinced that the treasure of $6 million was buried there
when Maximillan invaded Mexico in the 17th Century. Kelso had located treasure from a chart he
obtained in Mexico. Haas remarked that if no gold is found he will at least have one of the finest
water tanks in the country. (1 MS I. I-n)
This author’s grandparents had a farm and ranch in the Fly Gap community between Pontotoc
and Fredonia in Mason County about 10 miles north of the Llano River. Within a mile or two of the
ranch on the side of an imposing granite-laden mountain was a foreboding and forbidden place:
the Spiller Mine. There was talk that gold and silver had been mined there in earlier years. My
brother and I were absolutely forbidden to venture near the mine. We were told it had deep and
treacherous holes and ponds in it from which we would never return. If the pitfalls wouldn’t get us
the panthers and the rattlesnakes surely would! One day I sneaked away by myself determined to
at least take a peek inside the mine shaft. But as I came near it I thought I heard the warning of a
rattlesnake. In a flash I turned around and ran all the way back to the ranch house as fast as I
could. I have never returned.
Even to this day persons are still trying to buy or lease lands in the Hill Country mineral belt
with the hope of striking it rich. Fact is, H. W. “Bill” Marschall (von Bieberstein) himself, a few years
ago (2000), went with one property owner, Frosty Miller of Pontotoc, to look at various shafts of
former gold mines in that area. Bill just could not resist joining an investment group in the
processing of metals or ore in the Hickory Sand formations there. The ore is presently being
mined and sent to more sophisticated processing plants for the further refining. The result is a
long list of valuable minerals though probably not enough gold worthy of mentioning.
The tributaries of creeks in eastern Mason and western Llano counties that flow into the Llano
River near Pontotoc still attract the attention of mining interests. Of course throughout the area are
granite or batholith outcroppings that indicate ages-old natural smelting and uplifting that signals
good omen for gold, silver, palladium, uranium, etc. The descendants of Douglas Bauman have
long been active in leasing their lands for such mining near the Pontotoc community between the
towns of Mason and Llano.

THE PACKSADDLE SCHIST....
Marschall talks with much fascination about the Packsaddle Schist near Kingland at the
confluence of the Colorado River and the Llano River. There is a monument there marking the
spot of the apex of the Fisher-Miller Land Grant where the black ore of the Packsaddle Schist is
located. Webster’s Dictionary says a schist is “a metamorphic crystalline rock having a closely
foliated structure and admitting of division along approximately parallel lines.” Marschall says that
many contend that where there is black ore, gold would not be far away. So far, no one has
located much gold. Nevertheless, according to Marschall, the Packsaddle Schist serves to excite
the property owners and the gold prospectors alike.
Off Highway 71, Packsaddle Mountain allows the ancient sandstone to be exposed in
horizontal layers as well as layers of schist in Honey Creek (Llano and Burnet Counties) where
traces of gold, silver, and other minerals in the sands of the creek have been reported through the
years. (1 MS I. I-o)
______
Notes:
(1 MS I. 1-a) Palfrey, Dale Hoyte; Mexico Connect--History & Timeline; email:
daledale@laguna.com.mx
(1 MS I. 1-b) Braun, Alois; “Biographical Sketch of Rev. P. Alto S. Hoermann” translated by
Braun into English in1932 from the German in Hoermann’s historical novel, Die Tochter Tehuan’s
(The Daughter of Tehuan), Benziger Brothers Publishers, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1866; pp.5-6. In July of
1859 Rev. Hoermann accompanied by other Benedictine missionaries from St. Vincent Priory,
LaTrobe, Pennsylvania, arrived at Mission San Jose where they would begin their ministry with
special attention to the German speaking immigrants in San Antonio and the Hill Country. Braun
resided in San Antonio.
(1 MS I. 1-c) Von-Maszewski, Wolfram M.; Voyage to North America 1844-45, Prince Carl of
Solm’sTexas Diary, German Texan Heritage Society, University of North Texas Press, Denton TX,
2000, p. 33.
(1 MS I. 1-d) Denney, Richard.; “San Saba Presidio and Mission...Legends”; Internet, 2003;
711 Waterline Rd., Austin TX 78731. email: rdenney@sbc-global.net, tel: 1-512-431-2446
(1 MS I. 1-e) Prince Johannes (Hans) von Sachsen-Altenburg, “German Interest in Precious
Metals of the New World” May, 2003, Fredericksburg, Texas, lecture sponsored by Texas Tech
University- Fredericksburg, German Heritage Foundation, and the Nimitz Museum of
Fredericksburg.
(1 MS I. 1-f) Mancon, Robert; Plugging Up Texas, Republic of Texas Press-Woodware
Publishing, Plano Texas, 2002, p.111
(1 MS I. 1-g) Biesele, Rudolph Leopold; The History of the German Settlements in Texas,
German Texan Heritage Society Publisher, Austin TX, 1930 & 1987, p. 28.
(1 MS I. 1-h) Prince Johannes (Hans) von Sachsen-Altenburg, ibid.
(1 MS I. 1-i) Von-Maszewski; Ibid, pp. 203-225
(1 MS I. 1-j) Von Sachsen-Altenburg, Hans; Dyer, Robert L.; Duke Paul of Wuerttemberg on
the Missouri Frontier: 1823, 1830 and 1851; Walsworth Publishing Co., Marceline MO, 1998, pp.
238-239
(1 MS I. 1-k) Marschall (von Bieberstein), H. W. “Bill”; Personal interview, May 13, 2002, at his
home in Fredericksburg and his reference to a book in his library: The Runge Chronicles, by Henry
20
J. Hauschild, self-published 1990, 210 E. Forest, Victoria TX 77901
(1 MS I. 1-l) Roemer, Dr. Ferdinand; Texas 1845 to 1847, German Texan Heritage Society,
Eaken Press, Austin Texas, 1983, pp. 258-259
(1 MS I. 1-m) Knopp, Kenn; oral history interview with H. W. Marschall (von Bieberstein) at his
home in Fredericksburg in May, 2003.
(1 MS I. 1-n) Kennedy, Ira; “The Lost San Saba Mines” Internet: http://www.texfiles.com/texas
history/San_Saba_mines.htm; San Marcos TX 78666, 1999, pp. 1-8
(1 MS I. 1-o) Lone Star Internet, email: biz@lone-star.net; copyright 2000:
http://www.Instar.com/mall/txtrails/kingsland.htm

By Mr Hill Country   Mon, Jul 19, 2010

By C. F. Eckhardt   Sun, Jul 18, 2010

PULLING HISTORY OUT OF LEGEND

  In the first chapter of what was the treasure-hunter’s bible for many years, J. Frank Dobie’s CORONADO’S CHILDREN, there is a story called “The Rangers’ Creek of Gold.”  Dobie told this tale as ‘once upon a time a long time ago in a land far away.’  Yet in the story there are, if you read it critically, enough clues to tell you what time of year it occurred, where in Texas it occurred, approximately what year it occurred, and the exact location of the creek of gold.

            Basically, the story is this.  ‘Once upon a time a long time ago in a land far away’ there were two of McCulloch’s rangers, who were on scout west of Hamilton.  They awoke in camp one morning in a typical Hill-Country pea-soup fog.  During the night their horses had managed to slip the picket line and wander off.  Instead of sitting tight and waiting for the fog to burn off, they went looking for the horses in the fog.  When the fog finally did burn off, sometime around noon, they not only hadn’t found their horses, they’d lost their camp as well.  In camp were their saddles, their rifles, their food—and their all-important water.  They were now afoot in unknown, possibly hostile territory without food or water, armed only with pistols and sheath knives.

            They went looking for some sign of civilization, which they knew would lie to the southeast.   It was hot and dry, and they searched for water as they walked.  Every time they spotted a line of green in the distance, it proved a false alarm—every creek they came across was dry.  It was so hot and they were so dry they took bullets out of their cartridges and put them in their mouths to generate a flow of saliva.

            At last, late in the afternoon, they saw a long, rough mountain in the distance.  Alongside it was a line of green.  Although they’d all but lost hope of finding water, this line of green didn’t turn out to be a false alarm.  There was a cold, spring-fed, flowing creek to accompany it.  The men fell on their bellies and began to suck the life-restoring water out of the creek.  Suddenly one stopped, plunged his hand into the water, and came up with some shiny, yellow-colored pebbles.  The creek contained gold.  Belatedly cautious, the men did not fill their pockets with gold.  Instead, each took a representative sample. 

            As night was falling, they spotted a wild turkey roost.  One of the men slipped up on it and shot a turkey with his pistol.  They built a fire of dry oak, which gives very little smoke, and roasted the turkey.  After eating their fill and drinking more water, the men slept in a grove of trees alongside the stream.

            The next morning they once again ate as much turkey as they could, drank as much water as they could, and set out to the southeast, searching for signs of civilization.  As they rounded the north end of the long, rough mountain, they saw, sticking in a dead tree, the head of a miner’s pick.  They weren’t the first to find the creek, but the pick had been in the tree long enough for the handle to rot away. 

            Late that afternoon they topped a low ridge and saw, in the distance, Packsaddle Mountain, the first landmark they recognized.  From Packsaddle they got their bearings and soon found civilization.  The gold was pronounced ‘drift’ or placer gold, probably from a very rich mother lode farther up the creek.  However, the men could never find their way back to the creek of gold.

            In 1980, while doing research for my first book, THE LOST SAN SABA MINES, I drove a part of Texas Highway 71 I’d never been on before.  I knew 71 as ‘The Llano Lane,’ the road from Austin to Llano, but I had never had occasion to drive that part of 71 to the northwest of Llano.  I had been to Paint Rock to see what may—or may not—be a pictograph on the Concho Canyon wall that depicts the burning of the San Saba mission.  I stayed the night in Brady and came south toward Llano on 71.  Just at the Llano County line I saw a long, rough mountain.  Alongside it was Cold Creek, a spring-fed, year-round creek.  Fourteen point seven miles farther on I topped a low ridge—and there was Packsaddle in the distance.  That’s when the flashbulb went off in my head.

 I turned my car around, drove back to the creek, and carefully clocked the distance to the ridge.  It was exactly 14.7 miles on my odometer.

            Better than 14½ miles is a ‘long day’s walk,’ especially if you’re in possible hostile country and taking advantage of cover and concealment as you walk—which the two ‘McCulloch’s rangers’ would have been.  Could this mountain—which, I learned, is known as Smoothingiron Mountain from its shape, and happens to be the highest point in Llano County—be the ‘long, rough mountain’ the rangers described?  Could Cold Creek be the rangers’ creek of gold?

            Reality reared its ugly head.  I had located a long rough mountain accompanied by a spring-fed, year-round creek within a day’s walk of coming in sight of Packsaddle.  Was it the only long, rough mountain accompanied by a spring-fed, year-round creek within a day’s walk of coming in sight of Packsaddle?  That required research.

            As an old artillery forward observer, what is known as ‘map recon’—examining topographical maps to determine the lay of the land—is more or less in my bones.  I ordered, from the US Geological Survey, every 7½ minute quadrangle (topographical map of approximately 1:24,000 scale) from Packsaddle on the south to Hamilton on the north, and for fifty miles to the west.  These I spread out on my livingroom floor and began my research.   The first thing I did was put a pin in the west peak of Packsaddle, tie a string fifty scale miles long to it, and swing an arc from due north to due west.  Somewhere within that arc the rangers had to be when they lost their camp.  Where were they?

            Well, they weren’t as far north as the San Saba River, because the San Saba is a permanent stream.  Had they been that far north they would have had water, and would simply have followed the river to its junction with the Colorado.  They weren’t as far south as the Llano for the same reason.  Therefore, they had to be between the Llano and the San Saba, which narrowed my search area considerably

            My next task was to examine the elevations to determine from which direction Packsaddle

can be seen ‘in the distance.’  Packsaddle, while tall, sits in a low area.  The ground slopes up

 rapidly from the north and west, but less rapidly from the northwest.  It would be possible to see

 Packsaddle ‘in the distance’ only if one were to the northwest of it on an azimuth of about 300°.

 The back azimuth of that is 120°, so the sight of Packsaddle would be to the southeast—which was

 the rangers’ direction of travel.  So far, so good.

Now—is Smoothingiron Mountain the only mountain in a reasonable distance of

 Packsaddle that has a permanent creek alongside it?  No hydrographic datum on my maps was any

 later than 1918, which meant that any creek labeled as ‘intermittent’ in 1918 was also ‘intermittent’

 in the 19^th Century.  This would have been before any massive pumping from the underground

 water supply which feeds springs.  There were several ‘long, rough mountains’ accompanied by

 creeks in the search area, but—with a single exception—each one was indicated by the broken blue

 line which means ‘seasonal’ or ‘intermittent.’  Only Cold Creek, Field Creek, and San Fernando

 Creek were indicated by solid blue lines.  Cold Creek and Field Creek unite just west of

Smoothingiron Mountain to form San Fernando Creek, which is tributary to the Llano River. 

 Smoothingiron Mountain had to be the ‘long, rough mountain’ of the creek of gold story—and

 therefore Cold Creek had to be the creek of gold itself.

            ‘Where’ having been determined, I set to work to determine ‘when.’  First, the part of the

 year.  Rangers were ‘on scout’ during the raiding season.  The raiding season extended from the

 time ponies had forage until the time they didn’t.  That was usually mid to late March until late

 October/early November.  Equinoctial storms in March and April and again in mid to late

 September, unless the year is notably dry, will usually have at least standing water in seasonal

 creeks until mid-June and after the fall storms begin.  All the seasonal creeks were dry.  That points

 to July, August, or early September.

                  Now—what year?  I can’t be exact, but the signs point to 1839-1840.  First, they’re

 described as ‘McCulloch’s rangers.’  Ben McCulloch was killed at the battle of Pea Ridge in

Arkansas in 1862.  This has to be, then, before ‘the War.’  Second, ‘they took bullets out of their

 cartridges and put them in their mouths to generate moisture.’  Unless you’ve got a very strong bite,

 you’re not going to pull a bullet out of a brass or copper cartridge case with your teeth.  However,

 removing a bullet from a paper cartridge for a muzzle-loading rifle or pistol is easy.  All you have to do is tear the paper.  Third, they went to the southeast looking for civilization.  After about 1841

 there were settlements west of the Colorado, but they weren’t looking for them.  They were moving

 southeast, toward the Colorado.  About the northernmost settlement west of the Colorado in 1839-

 1840 was Fort Croghan, where Llano now stands.  Fort Croghan, a private fortification, not a

 military one, was within sight of Packsaddle Mountain on a clear day. 

               This very real, historical event occurred in the summer of 1839 or 1840, sometime between

 late June or early July and mid September, in what are now McCulloch and Llano Counties. The

 long, rough mountain with flowing creek’ is Smoothingiron Mountain with Cold Creek.  All we

 lack are the names of  the two rangers.

By C. F. Eckhardt   Fri, Jul 09, 2010

Al Jennings of Oklahoma, largely through masterful self-promotion, became for a time the best-known of the outlaws of the American West. He was a genuine bandit, he did go to a Federal penitentiary for attempted murder on a life sentence which was commuted to five years in 1900. He was pardoned by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1902.

He went to Hollywood in the early years of the movies and became a free-lance technical adviser on Western movies and later on television Westerns. Five movies, including the 1927 silent epic Beating Back, were based on the life and career of Al Jennings—as recalled and told by Al. In the days before heavy income taxes his percentages amounted to a tidy fortune.

The lobby cards for Beating Back featured a copy of Al’s Teddy Roosevelt pardon, which, they implied, came because Teddy recalled the exploits of his ‘old Rough Rider buddy,’ Al, at San Juan Hill. Teddy refused to allow such a brave soldier to rot away in prison. The catch slogan for the movie was “He Robbed More Trains Than Jesse James—He Killed More Men Than Billy the Kid.”

If pressed—you didn’t have to press hard—Al would admit to ‘twenty or twenty-five’ face-to-face shootouts. He was, though vague about who-what-when-where “in case somebody might start digging that old trouble up and making something out of it again.”

While in prison Al made the acquaintance of a bookish young man who had been sentenced from Austin, Texas—a one-time newspaper man and bank teller who was doing time for using the depositors’ assets to back slow horses. The young man’s name was William Sidney Porter, and he would become, as O. Henry, the undisputed master of the only purely American literary form, the short story.

Porter was apparently as good a listener as Al was a talker. Al filled the future short-story master’s ears with tales of a second career ‘on the border,’ which he insisted he pursued “while every lawman in Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Arkansas, and Missouri was out shaking the hills looking for me.”

If you have a good story don’t tell it to a writer. We have no principles at all. We’ll steal it, file the serial numbers off, change it just enough that you can’t prove it’s yours, and sell it for money. Whether or not Porter believed Al’s yarns is moot, but he used them to create a character called The Cisco Kid (O. Henry’s original Cisco Kid was an Anglo, by the way) who still lives in Saturday-morning syndication all over the civilized world. If you consider Al the original Cisco Kid, he is without question the best-known outlaw who ever lived.

Al Jennings’ entire outlaw career lasted a total of 108 days, from August 14, 1897, until December 6 of that year. In that time he successfully robbed one train, robbed a post office with semi-success, burgled one general store, and stole a wagon and mule from a couple of Cherokee teenagers. He got in one gunfight in which no one was killed and only one person was wounded. He surrendered without a fight.

He was chased by only one lawman, a Territorial Deputy Sheriff named Bud Ledbetter. The largest reward ever offered for him was $100, and it wasn’t ‘dead or alive.’ The only reason he got a life sentence was his insistence, on the witness stand at his trial, that he was, too, shooting to kill in his only gunfight—to the utter dismay of his attorney, who had a five-year sentence in the bag until the client shot off his mouth.

Al and Frank Jennings were the sons of ‘the town Republican’ of Edmond, Oklahoma. Republicans controlled the White House—and all political patronage—from 1860 until 1912, with only two four-year breaks for Grover Cleveland’s non-consecutive terms. Every town in the South—and Oklahoma was full of ex-Confederates—had to have a nominal ‘town Republican’ to serve as post master, judge, or whatever. The Jennings boys’ father was Edmond’s.

The Jennings brothers’ bosom pals were the O’Malley boys, Patrick and Morris. Their father was the town grocer. All four were in their late teens, too old for school and too young for adults to take them seriously. They also had a problem. In a day when men rode tall in the saddle Frank, the tallest, stood five feet four. Al, the acknowledged leader, stood five-one. The O’Malleys stood five-three. According to those who knew them all four—Al in particular—were addicted to Ned Buntline’s Wild West stories.

Sometime in the spring of 1897—the exact date isn’t clear, nor are the circumstances—Al met a real, genuine outlaw. His name was Richard West, the same ‘Little Dick’ West who rode with Bill Doolin. He was a typical ‘cowboy gone bad.’ Harry Halsell, in his 1937 classic COWBOYS AND CATTLEMEN, had nothing but good to say about West when he worked with him on the Waggoner and Halsell ranches near Wichita Falls in the 1880s.

West came by his nickname honestly. He stood five-six in his socks, which was little when standing next to Bill Doolin but must have been bordering on giantism to Al Jennings. Nobody knows for sure who talked who into a train robbery, but on the evening of August 14, 1897, Al Jennings’ outlaw career began. The beginning would have made a good sequence for the Three Stooges in “Train Robbers.”

To begin with, they tried it in Edmond, where everybody in town knew the Jennings and O’Malley brothers. When a Santa Fe passenger train pulled up for water, Morris O’Malley mounted the tender and in true Ned Buntline style threw down on the engineer and fireman from atop the coal. The rest of the gang—All, Frank, Pat, and Dick West—began pounding on the express-car door with their sixshooters. The noise attracted the conductor, who had been with the road for years and had known the Jennings and O’Malley brothers since they were in diapers. He ambled up, appropriately clad in brass-buttoned black frock coat and pillbox cap, and carrying a bullseye lantern. He recognized Al and demanded “What do you think you’re doing, Al Jennings?”

“It’s the Pinkertons!” Al screamed. The four would-be train robbers bolted for the woods. Morris, who was still on the tender holding a gun on the engine crew, saw his support legging it for the tall timber. He leaped off the tender screaming “Wait for me!” and hit the ground at a high lope, heading for the trees.

The attempted robbery was duly reported and—holding sixshooters on a train crew being downright illegal, not to mention annoying—the local law issued warrants for Al, Frank, Pat, Morris, and a John Doe. The Santa Fe issued a reward notice listing $100 apiece for the would-be robbers.

On August 30 the gang tried again. This time they got completely out of their home territory, way over in Indian Territory near Muskogee. Al decided to rob the Katy between Muskogee and Oktaha and to stop the train by piling ties on the track, one of the sure-fire trainstopping tricks he learned from Ned Buntline.

You can, of course, stop a train that way—but you have to know how to do it. It works when the train is already moving slowly and can’t increase speed, like on a very tight curve or a long, steep hill. Al stacked his ties dead in the middle of about the longest and smoothest stretch of track in the entire eastern half of Oklahoma. He also picked a moonlit night. The engineer could see the pile of ties and the waiting horsemen a good two miles away.

The Katy engineer opened the big Baldwin wide, hauled back on the whistle cord, and told the fireman to sit on the popoff. He rammed the cowcatcher into the stack of ties at a solid sixty miles an hour. Pieces of broken tie rained all over Muskogee County—and Al went back to Ned Buntline to figure out what went wrong.

Trainrobbing was proving downright unprofitable, not to mention embarrassing. The boys decided to take on an express office. The American Railway Express Company’s office in Purcell, about 45 miles south of Edmond on the South Canadian, was the target. The boys surrounded the office and began to peek into the windows to see if the express agent was alone. The express agent, seeing faces with bandannas over them pop up at his windows and then disappear, got a little perturbed. He went to the telephone—this was 1897, and every town of any size had a telephone system by then—and called the law. The town marshal, accompanied by about a half-dozen shotgun-armed citizens showed up—sometimes having a party line can work to your advantage—and the boys departed without firing a shot or taking fire. The Purcell fiasco was on the September 8.

Discouraged by a certain lack of success with trains and express offices, the gang decided to try a bank. Minco, about 30 miles southwest of Edmond, was chosen. When the boys showed up to rob the Minco bank early on the morning of September 20, it was pretty obvious something had gone wrong. The bank was surrounded by shotgun-armed locals. There had obviously been a leak somewhere. The most likely suspect was Al, who had a bad habit of shooting his mouth off. The Al Jennings Gang rode into Minco and out the other side without stopping.

On October 1, 1897, after having been a bandit for 46 days without a single success, Al Jennings, The Notorious Oklahoma Bank and Train Robber, the man who Robbed More Trains Than Jesse James and Killed More Men Than Billy The Kid, finally managed to steal something. The gang pulled what the press described as a ‘daring daylight robbery’ of the Rock Island passenger train 8 miles north of Chickasha, at the water stop now known as Pocasset.

Well, it was. It was straight out of Ned Buntline—up to a point, anyway. They piled the passengers out, lined them up alongside the cars, and went through their pockets in the best Beadle’s Dime Library approved fashion. The take from the passengers was some $300 in currency and assorted loose change, a silver pocketwatch worth about $15, a bunch of bananas, and a jug of busthead whiskey.

The train had an express car, the express car had a safe—two of them, in fact—and the safes had money in them. The boys wanted the money. They demanded the combinations from the messenger. He denied knowing them. That, of course, was a lie, but one the company insisted all messengers tell. All express-company messengers had the combinations to both the through and way safes, but they could be fired for admitting it to bandits. A good many messengers died rather than give up the combinations to the company safes.

Al, however, had read his Ned Buntline well. He came prepared. He had two one-pound sticks of dynamite, which was more than enough to open both safes if he’d known how to open a safe with dynamite. Unfortunately, Ned Buntline had always been sort of vague about exactly how one went about opening a safe with dynamite. Al found himself in the express car faced with two safes, two sticks of dynamite in his hands, and he didn’t know chocolate pie from cowflop about how to blow a safe. Of course, he didn’t know any more than that about how to be an outlaw, either, but it hadn’t slowed him down so far.

He decided to improvise. The through safe was the big one and Al couldn’t lift it. He put the two sticks of dynamite atop the through safe, set the way safe atop it, precariously balanced on the dynamite, lit the fuzes, and ran.

It would make a much better story, not to mention a great scene in a movie, had the dynamite blown the way safe out the top of the express car. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. The way safe tilted. The force of the explosion went sideways. It blew the side out of the express car, tore up the mail, did the interior no good at all, and simply flipped the way safe back onto its wheels on the floor. The boys fired a few shots into the air because that’s what Ned Buntline said you were supposed to do. Then they galloped away into the postoaks.

They holed up not far from Chickasha, where they split the money and—according to the records—ate the bananas and drank all the whiskey. How they survived the combination is not part of the record. Dick West took his $60 and drifted. Nobody said who wound up with the watch.

What Al, Frank, Morris, and Pat did between October 1, the Rock Island stickup, and November 14, the next time they were heard from, nobody but Al ever said. His story about wine-women-song in St. Louis isn’t supported by the $60 he had in his pocket.

The stickup did have one major effect. Before, the law had been only mildly annoyed with the Al Jennings gang. Now it was downright put out with them. The Rock Island was also more than a little perturbed. It posted a $100 apiece reward for the boys. Of course, everybody knew exactly who they were. Al made sure of that. He told everybody he robbed who he was.

Territorial Deputy Sheriff Bud Ledbetter of Muskogee County was an old-time lawdog. He’d served as town and county law in Missouri, Arkansas, and Texas before becoming a Deputy US Marshal out of Judge Isaac C. Parker’s court at Ft. Smith. With the closing of Parker’s jurisdiction and the opening of Oklahoma and Indian Territories to Anglo settlement, Bud moved to Muskogee. Now this seasoned professional got the job of running down the four most inept amateur bandits the 19th Century ever produced.

It gets cold in Oklahoma come November. The boys hadn’t been home since mid-August. On the night of November 14 they broke into Nutter’s Store at Cushing about 25 miles southeast of Stillwater, just over the line in Indian Territory. At the time what is now the State of Oklahoma was divided, the eastern half being known as Indian Territory, the western half as Oklahoma Territory. Al lived in OT and, with the exception of the abortive attempt to stop the Katy near Muskogee, all his ‘career’ had been in OT. The burglary was not to Al’s liking. He pictured himself as a dashing bank and train robber, not a burglar. Still, he didn’t intend to lose credit for the crime. The boys stole warm clothes, blankets, canned food, cartridges, tobacco, and about $40 from the till. Al left a note claiming credit.

A little less than a week later, on November 20, the gang burst into the US Post Office at Foyil, 11 miles northeast of present Claremore. In a classic stickup straight out of Ned Buntline’s best, they lined up the customers and employees, rifled the till, sacked up some $300, carcoled their horses, fired a few shots in the air for effect, and galloped away in a cloud of dust.

There was just one minor hitch. There were two sacks in the place. One was the one they’d put the money in. The other sack—identical to that one—contained the postmaster’s collection of cancelled stamps. The boys picked up the wrong sack.

The burglary at Cushing and the stickup at Foyil told Bud Ledbetter the gang was headed for the Spike S ranch, which had been a notorious bandit haven in the early years of the territory and might still take in a man on the dodge. The lawman decided Al would try to talk the folks at the Spike S into letting him and the boys hole up until spring. Bud rode ahead and waited for them.

He was right. On October 29 Al and the boys rode into the Spike S. At that point the prototype for every long-term gunfight Republic Pictures ever put into a 13-chapter serial began. The Gunfight At The Spike S lasted nearly 15 minutes, one of the longest shootouts on record. It was also one of the least lethal. Only Morris O’Malley was wounded, hit in the leg with a slug from Ledbetter’s Winchester. The wound wasn’t especially dangerous, but Morris thought he was dying. Bud did nothing to disabuse him of the notion. ----------------- The rest of the gang escaped, but Bud made sure the first thing he did was spook their horses. They lost their blankets, spare clothes, food, smokes, and extra ammo. Al covered the retreat, sixgun blazing in true Ned Buntline style—marred by the unfortunate fact that the gang was now afoot.

Morris, who apparently thought he was making a deathbed statement, spilled everything. He detailed both successful stickups, the burglary, and the four fiascos, and identified the John Doe at Edmond, Purcess, Minco, and Chickasha as Dick West. He also told Bud that Al told him to break jail as quickly as he could and head for ‘the corners,’ where Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas meet. The gang, Al said, would meet him there.

Ledbetter was a Territorial officer. He had no jurisdiction in Arkansas or Texas. Though the gang had committed a Federal offense—sticking up a post office—the crime had been less than an unqualified success. Federal Deputy Marshals, who received only those expenses they could produce receipts for and any rewards offered for bandits in lieu of salary, could hardly be expected to go chasing off after a bunch of teenaged kids for a paltry $200 apiece. If Al actually reached ‘the corners’ there was a better than even chance the gang would get away free.

There was, however, only one good trail going from the Spike S to where Al wanted to go. It crossed the Deep Fork of the Canadian at a place called Rock Creek Crossing. Bud Ledbetter went to the crossing and waited.

Al, Frank, and Pat, meanwhile, were making their slow, painful way afoot through the icy brush. On the cold, wet evening of December 2 Al pulled his final stickup. Along a farm trail not far north of Okmulgee he stepped in front of a rickety farm wagon driven by two Cherokee teenagers and pulled by a ragged mule. He leveled his sixshooter on them and croaked, through his laryngitis “Do you know who I am?”

“No, sir,” they admitted.

“I’m Al Jennings, the great train robber and bandit,” he announced.

The boys looked blank. Jesse James they’d heard of, the Youngers, and the Daltons. They knew about Bill Doolin and Turkey Creek and Red Buck and Dick West, and of course Ned Christie and Cherokee Bill, but who was this Al Jennings?

Al’s next remark was “Gimme that mule an’ wagon or I’ll blow your heads off.”

Maybe the boys had never heard of Al Jennings, but he did have a gun. They gave him the mule and wagon. The ragged, dirty, shivering man climbed onto the seat. Two more equally ragged, dirty men stumbled out of the brush and flopped down in the wagon bed. The wagon rattled away into the gathering night, leaving two very bewildered Cherokee boys alongside the trail.

Four days later, on the afternoon of December 6, 1897, Al drove the wagon into Rock Creek Crossing—and found himself looking into the muzzle of Bud Ledbetter’s Winchester. “Please, Mr. Ledbetter,” the disconsolate bandits begged, “take us someplace where it’s warm.”

In April, 1898, the Al Jennings gang went on trial. Frank and the O’Malleys drew five years each for train robbery. Al was convicted of assault with intent to kill an officer of the law—for reasons previously mentioned—and drew a life sentence. All were sent to the supposedly escape-proof Ohio State Pen, which took Federal prisoners at the time.

Al’s sentence was commuted to five years on June 23, 1900. Frank and the O’Malleys were pardoned in 1901. Al got his Teddy Roosevelt pardon in 1902, but it had nothing to do with Rough Rider service. Al spent the Spanish-American War in prison. After he got out of prison Al returned to Edmond, where he read law and was ultimately admitted to the Oklahoma bar. He practiced law for a while, but Al always had a serious case of the itch-foot—and he could never let go of his ‘outlaw career.’ He might have tried it again, but something else intervened. Shortly after he got out of prison he saw ‘the wonder of the age’—a motion picture filmed in the wilds of New Jersey and along New York City’s Central Park bridle paths. It was called The Great Train Robbery, and it starred Gilbert N. Anderson, who became known to an entire generation of American kids as ‘Broncho Billy.” Al thought about it for a while, and the longer he thought about it the better the idea looked. He’d show ‘em how it was really done. He’d go to wherever they made these movin’ pictures and he’d see to it they made ‘em right—told how to do it by the Great Oklahoma Bandit and Train Robber, the Oklahoma Robin Hood, Al Jennings himself. And that’s just what he did.

From the early days of the silents until the mid-1950s, Al Jennings, the self-styled Oklahoma Robin Hood, the Man Who Robbed More Trains Than Jesse James and Killed More Men Than Billy The Kid—only he didn’t—was the final arbiter of what went and what didn’t in the B Westerns turned out by Hollywood’s poverty row. Now you know why those movies—and early TV shows—were so phony. The guy who ‘told ‘em how we really done it, ‘cause I was there an’ did it for real’ was a total fake.

By Cowboy THC   Thu, Jul 08, 2010

Dogs in Heaven is an oft talked about concept, is it true. I guess, like everything, depends on who you talk to. Individuals have as many opinions on this as there are..... well, you know. Even religions get into this question, with many different answers, from yes and they become gods, to sort of because they are "of God', to no because they don't have souls. You can probably find the answer you want, just like any question, by finding someone who agrees with you. Which answer is true? Who knows, God knows since it's His heaven, in His presence, with His people, so I guess you can ask Him when you get there. Until then, He obviously gave them to you for a reason, to learn, enjoy and share genuine, unconditional love, so it sounds like that should be a part of heaven, don't ya think?

By Mr Hill Country   Fri, Jul 02, 2010

By John Hallowell   Fri, Jun 10, 2011

Fort Croghan brings history to life

by John Hallowell

On the second Saturday of each October, history buffs and civic minded Burnet residents congregate on the grounds of old Fort Croghan. In and around the restored log cabins (only one original fort building remains), costumed volunteers and re-enactors demonstrate the old ways of blacksmithing, cooking, sewing, weaving, doing laundry, making rope and candles -- even, this year, playing baseball just after the Civil War (back then, the baseball gloves were primitive, but you could get the batter out by catching the ball on "first bounce," and you could put a runner out by hitting him with the ball between bases!)

Fort Croghan was built in 1849 to protect settlers from Comanches, but it was soon abandoned as the frontier moved rapidly to the west. By the 1950s, very little was left to tell the story of Burnet's beginnings. That's when some local residents decided to create a historical museum on the site, and began bringing log cabins from around the county for restoration on the grounds of the old fort. Today, there are ten restored buildings and hundreds of historical artifacts there. For more information on the hours and events at old Fort Croghan, visit www.fortcroghan.org.

By John Hallowell   Wed, Dec 22, 2010

       Kendalia has never been a big town. Named (as was Kendall County) for George Wilkins Kendall, the famous war correspondent and founder of the New Orleans Picayune, who pioneered sheep ranching here in the late 1840s, Kendalia was founded in 1883 as a center for ranching families about twenty-five miles northeast from Boerne.

       The good folks of Kendalia have always been an energetic, fun-loving lot, and it was early on in their history that Kendalia Halle was erected for their entertainment and social pleasure.

       At the turn of the last century, Mr. George Elbel donated the land and materials to make the hall a reality.  Built of red fir lumber which was shipped from Oregon by train to Boerne, then hauled to Kendalia on horse-drawn wagons, the hall has helped to hold the small town together for more than one hundred years.

       The hall was purchased in 1996 by Lee and Judi Temple, who have made some major renovations during the last several years. Lee Temple even worked with contractor Frank Hallisey to design a method to straighten the hall, which was leaning about 12 inches to the west.

       To accomplish this feat, Hallisey used a series of pulleys and cables. Additionally, he reinforced the building’s foundation with steel and concrete.  Recently, he paneled and strengthened the interior of the entire hall with beautiful pine.  The final touch was done by Metal Roof Restoration, a company owned by Temple and Hallisey, which restored the existing metal roof, sealing hundreds of leaks.

       The hall has hosted many great musicians in its time, and country music star Geronimo Trevino recorded his “Live from Kendalia Halle” album here in 1997. In addition to dances, the Temples make it available for weddings, parties, receptions, family reunions etc. Says Judi, “It’s a real privilege to ensure that future generations will enjoy the dance hall as past generations did before them.”

       If you like the “old west” atmosphere, this is a great place for your next gathering.

By John Hallowell   Wed, Nov 24, 2010

       By the time Brady’s classy new jail was built in 1910, the mob violence was over in McCulloch County, and civilization (for the most part) prevailed; although the jail is equipped with a fully operational gallows, the hanging rope has never been used!

       Judging by the graffiti in the drunk tanks on the third floor, the jail did come in handy for many years before the state ruled in 1973 that it no longer met requirements, and would have to be replaced.

       In 1974, the building was purchased for $5 by a nonprofit corporation, and the Heart of Texas Historical Museum was established in the ground floor. Since then, the museum has seen steady improvements and expansion, so that Fort Worth columnist Jon McConnel called it “the best small museum I have seen.”

        The Texas state legislature formed McCulloch County in 1856, and named it for the famous Indian fighter and Texas Ranger, Benjamin McCulloch, who later rose to the rank of Brigadier General in the Confederate Army.  Settlers were few and far between until well after the Civil War; the 1870 census counted only 173 people in McCulloch County, but extensive settlement began within the next few years. In 1876, the county government was organized, with the town of Brady (named for surveyor Peter Brady) as its seat.     

       The museum contains many artifacts from Brady’s early days as an agricultural center and before (Bert Striegler, who served as museum president for twelve years, and is still a board member, has organized and catalogued a huge collection of arrowheads and knives dating back for thousands of years. “McCulloch County is absolutely covered with Indian artifacts,” he says). It commemorates small railroad towns like Placid, Melvin and Rochelle, and it documents Brady’s transformation into a thriving cultural and commercial center for the entire area. But a main focus of the museum is the county’s role in World War II, when it served as a training center for thousands of pilots and as a prisoner-of-war camp for German captives, including Gestapo, S.S. and members of Rommel’s Afrika Corps.

       Several Brady natives were genuine war heroes, and the museum proudly bears witness to their accomplishments. Houston Lee Braly was flying a P-51 Mustang over France when he swooped low to strafe a military train near the town of  Remy. His direct hit not only blew up dozens of carloads of V-2 rockets and killed hundreds of German troops, but blew all the windows out of the Remy cathedral and blew the wings off his own plane! He was killed when the fuselage of his airplane crashed into a house in Remy, but the grateful town has become Brady’s sister city, and has sent delegations to Brady in Braly’s honor three times since the war. Pilots from Braly’s squadron helped raise a half-million dollars to install new stained-glass windows in the Remy cathedral.

      Wayne Rawlings flew 61 missions over Europe in a B-26 bomber (and lived to tell it!) After retirement, he served as a greeter at Walmart, and many admirers would seek him out just to shake his hand.

       Earl Rudder led rangers up the cliffs of Normandy on D-Day and became one of the war’s most decorated soldiers, rising to the rank of Major General. He served as mayor of Bradt from 1946 to 1952, then as Texas Land Commissioner, then as president of Texas A&M University. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal by President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1967.

       These heroes and more are honored at the Brady museum, and for that reason alone, a visit is inspiring and rewarding. But there are many other fascinating glimpses into Brady’s past. Bert Streigler showed me a box of old postcards donated by a lady from Wilmington, N.C. One of them shows his grandfather’s Popular Dry Goods Store, which was in business from 1921 to 1923. In the restored kitchen, he pointed out water faucets recast for the museum by Chicago Brass from molds dating back to the 1920s. They couldn’t find any molds to make the right handles, so these authentic faucets are equipped with the “wrong handles.”

       Mr. Streigler gave me a tour of the old jail cells, showed me the “drunk tanks,” the “hanging rope” and the maximum security cells. He showed me a bill of sale for slaves, a steamboat bill of lading from the 1840s when 1,500 Texas dollars were worth $18 in U.S. currency) and a financing agreement for a $126 piano in 1897. He (or another volunteer) will be delighted to give you the same Grand Tour if you’ll just pay them a visit! The museum is open from 1-5 p.m. on Friday and Saturday; 1-4 on Sunday.

By John Hallowell   Thu, Nov 18, 2010

Classics live on in Brady

By John Hallowell

     Tracy Pitcox is one of those rare people who knew what he wanted to do at a very young age. He’s still young now (just 39), but he’s got more than twenty years of experience in a job that he loves and he’s got a whole lot of friends, some of them in pretty high places!

     The day that I interviewed him, he was about to leave for Nashville for a visit with Country Music legends Johnny Wright and Kitty Wells (that is, once he had finished his trademark Friday night “Hillbilly Hits” radio show).

     Tracy grew up in a music-loving family, and always dreamed of being a radio DJ. His friend, Randall King, worked for KNEL, the local radio station. “I think I begged him and the owner long enough until I got a job,” Tracy says. He was just 15 years old when he started working evenings for KNEL in August of 1986, and he’s been there ever since.

     When Tracy was a senior in high school, KNEL Music Director Josh Holstead asked him to host a new radio program featuring classic country songs and artists. The show would be called “Hillbilly Hits,” and would include interviews and calls from the public. With just a few days of advance publicity, the show went on the air.

     “We had picked out about twenty albums to play,” says volunteer Darrell Cowen, “because we didn’t think many people would call.” They were wrong.

     They got about fifty calls that first night, and more requests than they could handle. The show just grew from there, as Hillbilly Hits attracted fans (of all ages) from all around the state. Country America heard about the program, and sent a reporter to do a story. Newspapers and magazines across the state followed suit, and a fan club was formed (presently, the fan club has 850 members!) to promote the radio show and country music in general.

     The radio show soon attracted the attention of the top country stars whose music anchored the show, and Tracy was able to get acquainted with many of the country legends. Quite a few of the biggest stars made themselves available for interviews. Some even co-hosted the show with Tracy.

     During this time, Tracy had begun collecting country music memorabilia, and in 1999, he and some friends decided to start a museum. They started raising money from bake sales, opry shows, and “anything legal,” Tracy says, until they had $50,000. Local businessman Billy Jackson donated a building lot in memory of his wife, Peggy, and construction (under the supervision of contractor Harry Mitchell) was finished in 2001.

     The “Heart of Texas Country Music Museum” is staffed by volunteers from the Heart of Texas Country Music Association, and is open without any admission charge to the public from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. on Saturdays and from noon to 5 p.m. on Sundays each week. In the museum, there are souvenirs and personal items, including stage costumes, from more than 100 country music stars. A recent acquisition is a red rhinestone suit worn by Moe Bandy, but the biggest (they had to park it outside) is a bus that Jim Reeves used for road trips in the fifties. Perhaps the most interesting item is an autographed guitar that had been pawned in Marble Falls by Floyd Tillman. Most of the items have been donated by the artists themselves, such as an autographed cowboy hat from George Strait, but some (like a gown from long-deceased singer Patsy Cline) have to be purchased.

     The Hillbilly Hits show is still broadcast each Friday night, although my car radio won’t pick up KNEL after I pass Llano going east, and if you’re not close to Brady, you’ll have to order a recording. That’s what folks around Texas have been doing for quite a few years now. “I just tape the program and mail it out,” Tracy says, “I am proud that people think that much of a real country radio show.”

     If you’d like a tape of the show (or a T-Shirt or a cap, etc.) you can call (325) 597-1895 or visit www.hillbillyhits.com. You could also sign up for the fan club, and support the museum and its activities for just $8 a year ($10 for a couple).

By Bonnie Eissler   Fri, Jul 16, 2010

 DRIPPING SPRINGS • Bridget Hauser and her team of talented craftspeople at Sunset Canyon Pottery shape clay by hand on a potter's wheel to make beautiful bowls, plates, mugs, chip and dip servers, luminaries and nearly 100 other items that customers cherish both as collectibles and practical, durable dinnerware.
Using this traditional method rather than the industrial techniques of mass production ensures that, even in sets, the individual pieces are artistically handcrafted and one-of-a-kind.
A dozen different designs and glaze combinations-with names like "Desert" (the first design, developed in 1982), "Aurora," "Seafoam," and "Safari" (the most recent design)-evoke the colors and shapes of the landscapes and skyscapes that inspire them.
Nature and the environment provide a steady stream of ideas for Bridget, who sees "abundance, bounty, and continuity in nature and signs of constant hope in the life cycles of nature."
Bridget, her husband Bill, and their two daughters moved to Texas from Indiana in 1981. Bridget worked with the original owners of Clarksville Pottery in Austin, first as an employee and later as a business partner. In 1996, she and Bill established Sunset Canyon Pottery, combining her "love for clay and pottery with Bill's dream of having a family business."
Bridget began "playing with clay" as a young girl in her native Indiana, where she lived next door to two ceramics artists. As the oldest girl of seven children, Bridget was already a reliable babysitter by the time she was eight years old. "We made a deal," she recalls, " that I would watch their babies while they were working in the studio and in return I got to paint and work with clay in their studio."
This informal arts education lasted for four years until the artists next door moved away. During this time, Bridget's talent blossomed as she continued to seek additional opportunities to express her artistic vision and perfect her skills.
By the time she was 12, Bridget was going "way out in the country" to attend a neighborhood art class, even though she was the only child in the group. A few years after that, in an advanced high school art class, she rediscovered the potter's wheel and would "drag the wheel out of the closet and the teacher would fire up the kiln."
Her interest in working with clay was definitely rekindled and from this point, in school and out, Bridget concentrated on her chosen medium.
As she remembers, "The minute I touched the clay, I knew I was home." She observes that at first it was the medium itself that appealed to her, but as she became more involved, " It drew me into a close community and family of people in the clay field, where people like to work with each other and help each other."
She received her BA in Ceramics from Indiana University, and when one of her pieces, a 24-inch storage jar salt-fired in a wood kiln, was chosen for a prestigious art show in Indianapolis (even though her instructor's was not), Bridget began to feel a certain measure of accomplishment.
This achievement set a pattern that continues today, as Bridget garners awards and is the creative center of a successful business, with retailers from all over the United States carrying Sunset Canyon Pottery.
She was among the first Texas artists to be honored by the Texas Commission on the Arts as a Texas Original Artist, in recognition of "high-quality, authentic, original work that preserves traditional methods and ensures that those methods are passed down to future generations."
This important tradition continues here in the spacious studio at Sunset Canyon Pottery, where "workers can be found most days busy in the studio producing the handmade clay ware."
John Vela is the production manager. John has a BFA in Art History with a concentration in Ceramics and Italian from the University of Texas, and he co-founded the Texas Clay Arts Association.
Four or five people, often recent college graduates with an art degree, gain practical experience working on potters' wheels. Another person specializes in loading the kilns and there is a high school student who comes in to work part-time after school cleaning up and preparing clay for the potters.
FYI • Sunset Canyon Pottery (gallery and studio) is located three miles east of Dripping Springs at 4002 East U.S. Highway 290. For more information, call 512-894-0938 or visit the web site at www.sunsetcanyonpottery.com where you can learn more about the artist, pottery, upcoming classes and important events like the Empty Bowl Benefit held each November at Sunset Canyon Pottery to raise money for local food banks.

Story © 2010 Hill Country Sun, used by permission http://www.HillCountrySUN.com 

By Scott Country   Thu, Jul 08, 2010

Great water flow on the Guadalupe!  600 cfs means great rafting and tubing- don't miss out- we will have good water flows so make plans now to come to RIO!   Canyon Lake, the Comal and  the Guadalupe Rivers from  are OPEN for water recreation.  Rio Raft is open daily for river trips on tubes, rafts, sit on top kayaks or inflatable canoes - we have them all.  Schlitterbahn and the Texas Ski Ranch are open,   Natural Bridge Caverns and Natural Bridge Wildlife Park are open daily as well.  Rio Raft & Resort is easily accessible from IH35 -  exit 191 to Canyon Lake onto FM 306 and head toward Canyon Lake.  Cross the Guadalupe River and turn left onto FM 2673, go 1 1/2 miles and turn left onto River Road - we are less than a mile down on the left.   We have 21 Guadalupe River front cottages with kitchenettes, full baths and a great view of our beautiful river frontage just above the 4th Crossing Bridge on River Road. Four cottages are near our large swimming pool but also have access to the Guadalupe River. RV camping is available with 30 and 50 amp service, on site sewer, cable TV, picnic table, free WiFi and space for big rigs. The Rio Raft event center overlooking the river will accommodate family reunions, corporate and church retreats, wedding parties or RV Rally clubs as well as activities for our Winter Texan friends. Rio Raft has been a family oriented resort since 1977 and prides itself on being one of the quietest parks on River Road and the only one on the Guadalupe River with a 24 hour on-site camp host.   RIO GUADALUPE CONDOMINIUMS - a new condominium under construction just upstream of the resort!  NINE UNITS FOR SALE - OWN YOUR OWN PIECE OF GUADALUPE HEAVEN!   contact Dianne Thomas for pre-sale information. 210-379-5810

By Scott Country   Mon, Jul 05, 2010

The Texas Hill Country is the heart of Texas. Texas has plenty of beautiful natural attractions, including forests, plains, deserts, mountains, ocean fronts, drylands, wetlands and almost every eco system loved by man. The Hill Country of Texas is known as the backyard playground for Texans that like to have fun, enjoy nature, hang out, live and retire. We like our big cities like Austin and San Antonio, but we also love our smaller towns like Bandera, Fredericksburg, Gruene, Kerrville, Luckenbach, Marble Falls, New Braunfels, and Utopia. If your lucky enough to live here, then you understand what we mean, if your fortunate enough to vacation here then you share why we love it. Even if you simply visit or pass thru, you will see why we feel blessed to be the best of Texas.