So much to brag about; so little time. This is where we begin to tell about the wonderful towns and attractions that dot the wide open spaces of the Texas Hill Country. Keep coming back; we promise to make a noticeable difference every couple of days from now on!
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!
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!"
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 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.
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."
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.
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 30th 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.
John Paul Hudson is a natural-born collector; his mother's whole family was in the "used furniture" business ("they'd call it the antiques business today," he says) and by the time he was eight or nine years old, he had a good-size collection of beer glasses, given to him by the distributors who sold beer at his father's 7-11 stores in Austin. Having no income as a youngster, he had to start his collections with items that came free: mostly beer glasses, ash trays and beer cans. "They had no value back in the '50s, Hudson says, " but a few years later, they took off."
Once his reputation as a collector was established, friends and family members "started bringing me stuff from all over the world," Hudson recalls. "I never stopped collecting all the way through high school, and we had a whole room in the house devoted to my collections." As time went on, he began collecting blacksmith tools and farm implements. (A friend had explained to him that "if it's rusty and heavy, it's probably cheap." That was true at the time!)
His wife, Diana, says the two were "polar opposites" when they went out on a blind date in the late '60s. Although they had lived in the same neighborhood and attended the same schools, she was four years younger, and they had never met. Diana loved the water (particularly Lake Austin), and had made a name for herself as a skiier and a drag boat racer. "I guess our commom interest was a need for speed," she says. John Paul had a fast car, and the two hit it off immediately. They were married in 1970. In a bit of "collector humor," John Paul's grandfather gave him an authentic ball-and-chain and leg irons from a real-life chain gang) for a wedding present!
Even though the couple started their married life in a small two-bedroom bungalow, one of the rooms became the depository for John Paul's collections. And because they had little money for furnishings, Diana soon began to use some of the items as decorations. "Not the beer cans or the rusty farm equipment," she says, "but some of the items (bridle bits, etc.) were really cool. Soon, John Paul's hobby became a sideline business, and he opened an antique shop in Pflugerville.
The business grew and prospered. John Paul branched out into new areas like renting antiques as props to movie-makers and decorating restaurants. And, according to Diana, "once we could afford nicer things, I got into it. I'd say 'Whoa, that's cool! that would look good on the wall!" she recalls. They also had two children, Heather and Casey; when they moved to a bigger house, they had a 1500-square-foot barn built to house most of their antiques right at home.
As time went on, the Hudsons began looking for a place "on the water." Since prices on Lake Austin were prohibitive by that time, they began looking up and down the Highland Lakes. They bought an old A-frame on the East Lake Buchanan and "cutesied it up" with things like a lighted kayak hanging in a tree. "Our neighbors called us "the kids," Diana recalls. the couple began spending their weekends there, and soon, Diana says, the weekends started "getting longer and longer."
When the Hudsons started discussing retirement a few years ago, John Paul put his foot down. We CAN"T retire in that 850-square-foot A-frame," he said. Heather, who had by that time had some architectural training, drew up a house plan for them. "This is something you'd like," she told them. The more they looked at it, the more they liked it.
In late 2005, they had an offer to buy their business, and their retirement plans began to get more serious. One day when Diana was looking on E-Bay, she saw a pallet of bricks from the 1850 Old Crow distillery in Frankfort, Kentucky. John Paul called to see if there was more than just one pallet. The answer was emphatic. "There sure is! We've got 28 acres of buildings here that have to come down."
It was a sign! The Hudsons got samples of the old bricks -- dug, formed and fired right there on the site of the old distillery -- and started talking to architects. Once they had plans for the new house, they set off in their RV (pulling a 16-foot trailer to carry their "finds") to search the "World's Longest Garage Sale," held each August along Highway 127 from Alabama to Michigan.
It took a couple of years to finish the unique retirement home, but the results are absolutely amazing! Six 18-wheelers brought 54,000 bricks from the historic distillery. Pine beams from the Old Crow "aging house" were turned into beautiful flooring; a fountain from the John Bremond Estate in Austin decorates a New Orleans-style courtyard, and a wide variety of other antiques from all over the U.s. (and other countries, including Mexico, Spain and France) are worked into every detail of the home's design.
Doorways are custom-framed to fit antique doors of different shapes and sizes. Bridle bits are built into the brick walls for decoration and to serve as hangers. The porch posts used to be Austin street light poles, the light pole in the courtyard used to hold air and water hoses at an old service station. when workers ran out of the re-cycled gray tongue-and-groove lumber for the porch ceiling, the Hudsons supplied three antique doors, which were mounted, with light fixtures at the center of each, across the width of the front porch. A roulette wheel from Las Vegas makes a unique light fixture inside the front door, and two huge beer signs from an old cafe on South Congress Avenue in Austin now hang on the Hudsons living room wall. Other walls were custom-built to incorporate antique cabinets; furnishings from The Tavern, a favorite watering-hole for politicians in Austin, now decorate one room that overlooks the lake. The kitchen ceiling features beams from an old Llano barn.
The unique courtyard has a vine-covered wrought-iron stairway to the upstairs guest rooms; an indoor stairway is decorated with a neon sign advertising "ROOMS -- Day, Week, Month." Under the stairway is a wonderful playroom designed for their granddaughter, Sydney (they now have another granddaughter, Peyton). Other rooms include an office, an exercise room and a beautiful master bedroom.
The back patio is also a thing of beauty. The porch, stairway and pump house are made of the same distillery bricks as the house, but when the Hudsons ran out of bricks, they had the patio floor paved with limestone. The porch features a modern outdoor kitchen and a brick-and-stone fireplace; there's another free-standing fireplace down on the dock. The most eye-catching feature of the back porch is an antique Coca-Cola sign, complete with rusting bullet holes. The dock extends beynd the fireplace out over the water, and Diana says she spends quite a bit of time there "drowning bait." She also enjoys watching birds attracted to her bird feeder (made from an antique ice cream freezer).
John Paul and Diana were very much involved in every step of the construction, but they are quick to give credit to those who actually put it together. they wish to thank contractor Duane Bingham (from Marble Falls), foreman Coley Harned, woodworker Junior Truman (from Kingsland), concrete worker Martin Balderas (from Bertram) and Terry Becker and crew, who did the masonry ("They did a fantastic job," Diana says).
This unique retirement home is much more to the Hudsons than simply a comfortable place to spend their leisure years. It's a labor of love, a work of art, a building that in some ways tells their whole life story, a personalized family gathering center and a chance to re-live the old days "on the water." We appreciate the chance to look in on them and share a little bit of their pride and pleasure.
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 150th 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.
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.
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.
Hill Country Festivals
by John Hallowell
Every weekend (and most weekdays, especially in the bigger towns), there are entertaining and educational events around the Texas Hill Country, but most towns have just a few trademark festivals in the course of a year. The smaller events will be listed in our ongoing "Things to Do" article; this article is only for the biggest and best annual events. I'll list them in bunches by the month; some have not yet announced the exact dates for next year.
This weekend, October 16 (you can google the listed events for more precise information and schedules), is the Heritage Days festival (and Chuck Wagon Cook-Off) in Llano, the Lone Star Gourd Festival in Fredericksburg and the Oktoberfisch Fly Fishing Festival in Junction. Next weekend is the Wild West Fest in Dripping Springs, the Kerr County Fair in Kerrville, the Texas Clay Festival in Gruene, the Hills and Harleys River Rally in Concan and the Fredericksburg Food and Wine Fest. And the last weekend in October is the beginning of the fabulous Wurstfest in New Braunfels. It's also the time for many Halloween events, including the haunted hayride in Bandera, the haunted house tours at the old Red Top Jail in Llano and a "Halloween Whodunit" on the Bertram Flyer train from Cedar Park. The popular "Tour de Gruene" bicycle ride is held that weekend, as well.
Wurstfest continues through the first week of November, but Bandera's 48th Annual Hunters' BBQ and Outdoor Expo will compete for your attention November 5, as will Utopia's Arts and Crafts Fall Fair. Many towns will have hunter and/or veteran appreciation events in November, but after Thanksgiving the Christmas season will be the primary Hill Country focus. One of the best shopping events is the Weihnachtsmarkt in New Braunfels (November 18-21); proceeds go to the Sophienburg Museum. The remarkable "Dickens on Main" event in Boerne is scheduled for November 26-28.
Burnet hosts two of the best Christmas events anywhere: the "Main Street Bethlehem" living history event the first two weekends in December, and "Christmas at Fort Croghan," with its old-fashioned traditional Christmas in the restored log cabins on December 11 (also the night for Burnet's "Christmas on the Square.") Ongoing events are the lakefront "Walkway of Lights" in Marble Falls, the "Starry Starry Night" display on the river in Llano and the "Lights Spectacular" in Johnson City. I haven't been to all the Hill Country towns at Christmas time, but these are some that have particularly impressed me. Bandera has a "Camp Fire Christmas" December 4, and San Saba has a lighted Christmas Parade on the square December 11.
January and February are the months when most Hill Country residents stay indoors and regroup; the main events are Junior Livestock Shows and Chamber of Commerce Banquets. You'll see a few "Winter Texans" on the golf courses, and the Fredericksburg Rockhounds hold their indoor gem, mineral and fossil show at Ladybird Johnson Park in mid-January, but that's about it. March begins with the Chuck Wagon Cook-Off and Heritage Gathering on the grounds of the Boerne Agricultural Museum and an assortment of Mardi Gras events around the Hill Country. Bandera holds its annual Wild Hog Explosion toward the end of March, and Marble Falls holds a "Bluebonnet Music and Art Festival."
April is a wonderful time to visit the Texas Hill Country, and Burnet makes it even better with its annual Bluebonnet Festival the second weekend of the month. This may be the best smalltown festival in Texas, although Georgetown's Red Poppy Festival later in the month certainly gives Burnet a run for its money. Boerne's Antique Tractor Show and Pull are in April, as are Driftwood's "Old Settlers Music Festival," Menard's "Around the Campfire" event and Johnson City's Wildflower Days. Llano holds its amazing Crawfish Open toward the end of the month, and the Texas Hill Country River Region hosts its annual Nature Quest in Concan.
So far for May, all I know of are the Mayfest at the beginning of the month in Marble Falls, the world-famous Folk Festival in Kerrville and the Texas Proud Festival in Llano over Memorial Day weekend. I'll find out more as time goes on. June is busy with rodeos, etc.; Stonewall holds its Peach Jamboree, Burnet has its unique Railfair and Festival, and Boerne holds its Berges Fest on the weekend of Father's Day.
July 4th weekend is busy around the Hill Country, but I think my favorite festivals are Kingsland's Aqua Boom, Mason's Roundup, Leakey's July Jubilee and Llano's Rock'n Riverfest. Lots of towns around the Hill Country have good fireworks displays. Lampasas holds its "Spring Ho!" (as in "Look, there's some water!") festival the second weekend in July, and Bandera's National Day of the American Cowboy is later in the month.
In August, there's the Lakefest in Marble Falls and the Gillespie County Fair, but come Labor Day weekend, there are celebrations all over the Hill Country. Some of my favorites are the Kendall County Fair, the Oatmeal Festival, Celebrate Bandera and the huge Goat Cook-Off in Brady, with all its accompanying festivities. On Labor Day itself, the "Kimble Kounty Kow Kick" in Junction is the biggest thing going. Menard's Jim Bowie Days comes later in September, as does the Cajun Fest at Medina Lake and the Gold and Gem Rendezvous in Llano.
Then we're back to October, with Fredericksburg's Oktoberfest (Kingsland and Jonestown are two other towns which hold an Oktoberfest celebration), Utopia's Music Festival and many other fall events. Please tell me what I've missed, and I'll keep looking for more things to add.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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."
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.
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!
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."
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.
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.
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 28th 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!
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.
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 25th 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!
THE LLEGEND OF LLANO
By John Hallowell
The first European settlers in present-day Llano County were German immigrants recruited by the German noblemen’s society, or Adelsverein, which had purchased more than three million acres between the Llano and Colorado Rivers (known as the Fisher-Miller grant) in 1844. While most of the German settlers stopped at the way-stations of New Braunfels and Fredericksburg, a few brave souls crossed the Llano River into their Comanche-dominated “promised land.” The 1850 census listed “32 persons on the Llano River.”
The decade of the 1850s saw a flood of settlers coming from the east with farming in mind, and the population increased rapidly throughout most of the Hill Country. Two of the first in the Llano area were Clement and John Oatman, who came to Packsaddle Mountain from Bastrop County in 1851, and moved a couple of miles south of the present Llano townsite shortly thereafter. Their new home came to be known as Oatman Creek, and several other members of the family came to join them in 1853. In the meantime, David and Gideon Cowan crossed the Colorado River and established a saltworks about 15 miles to the east. The town of Bluffton grew around them, becoming the area’s most prosperous community.
Several smaller communities sprang up, and by 1856, there were enough people to form a new county. Residents were asked to choose one of two sites for the seat of the new county. One site was at the center of the county, where John Oatman Sr. donated 100 acres on the south side of the Llano River to build a new town. The other was at Wright’s Creek, to the east. Despite concerns voiced by David Cowan and others from Bluffton, the site on the Llano River was chosen; Cowan became the first county judge.
John Oatman Jr. purchased a lot in town and built a picket house store. He also became Llano’s first postmaster. John Buttery built two small one-story rock buildings, one of which was used as an office by the county clerk. By 1858, a little town was established, and there were more than 1,100 people in the county.
The Civil War interrupted the county’s growth, and the county seat remained a small frontier trading center for the next two decades. Henry Buttery, who had joined the Confederate Army at age 17, returned after four years’ service to become one of Llano’s leading merchants. Damon Slater, J.R. Moss and others established large ranches in Llano County; Slater led the first cattle drive from Llano County (to Roswell, New Mexico) in 1867. James Clayton Stribling aided in “breeding up” range cattle around Llano, by importing registered Hereford bulls when cattle were Llano’s most important industry. Part of his ranch is now the Granite Hills Hereford Ranch, east of Llano.
Cotton became a major cash crop beginning in the 1870s, and continued as such until the 1930s. The town grew slowly; roads were bad and transportation was difficult through the rugged terrain, so goods had to be hauled by burro, or in an occasional wagon. Most Llano County residents were almost self-sufficient, with many of them wresting a meager living from 160 acres of rocky land.
A horse-racing track was built in Llano in 1877, and Llano’s first bank was built in 1879. By 1880, there were almost 5,000 people living in Llano County, and the Southern Hotel was built on the northwest corner of the square to provide lodging for travelers coming by stagecoach from Lampasas or Burnet. Most lumber for building was shipped from Round Rock. (A ferry, powered by three strong men, carried traffic across the Colorado River at Bluffton.) Llano’s first newspaper, the Llano Rural, was published sometime in the early 1880s. The business district in grew slowly but steadily through the early 1880s, and a new brick courthouse was built in 1885.
Llano’s first rock school was built in 1886, the same year that promising iron ore samples were discovered in northwestern Llano County. All of a sudden, Llano became a boomtown, and capitalists from Dallas and Minneapolis invested more than a quarter-million dollars in land and mineral rights by 1888. A new newspaper, the Iron City News, began publication that year (It later became the Llano News, and is still published today), and the Iron City National Bank was founded in 1890. Hundreds of people came to Llano, hoping to share in the mineral wealth they felt sure was just beneath their feet. Because there were not enough buildings to house all the jobseekers, a tent city sprang up on the north side of the river.
Llano changed overnight from a rustic agricultural town to a sophisticated city. The fine, three-story brick Algona Hotel (named by two of the investors, who hailed from Algona, Iowa) was built in 1888, featuring gourmet meals, a string orchestra and formal evening attire. The Llano Improvement and Furnace Company made plans to build an iron furnace and foundry, as well as a dam, an electric power plant, a streetcar system, and electric street lights, and many substantial buildings were erected on both sides of the river. A bridge was built across the Llano River in 1892, and plans were made for the development of commercial real estate on the undeveloped north side of the river. That same year, the Austin and Northwestern Railroad was extended to a terminal on the north side of Llano and a substantial new jail was built on the south side. (Nineteen attorneys were practicing law in the city of Llano that year.) Steel-town names such as Birmingham, Pittsburgh, and Bessemer were chosen for the new north-side streets; Llano was to be the "Pittsburgh of the West."
A French mineralogist named N.J. Badu was one of the early proponents of Llano’s mineral wealth. He arrived early in the “boom,” and was involved in almost every aspect of the mining industry. He discovered the mineral now known as “Llanite.” He also managed the Algona Hotel for a while, and later bought the building (now called the “Badu House”) which had housed the First National Bank.
Most of the big dreams never came true. The most successful operation was the Olive Mine, ten miles east of Llano. It employed nearly 200 men at its peak, but it closed when its manager was robbed and murdered in 1894. Other mines simply did not produce as expected. The Llano Improvement and Furnace Company went out of business. Disappointed real estate speculators and intoxicated drifters set so many fires over the next few years that fire insurance soon became unavailable in Llano. The courthouse had burned in 1892; by 1894 there would be a fire almost every night. The Algona Hotel, by then known as the Don Carlos Hotel, burned to the ground in 1923.
The boomtown era was over, but Llano was left with tremendously improved infrastructure and a whole new industry – granite. The beautiful courthouse that still graces the historic square was completed in 1893; the new "Red Top" county jail was built in 1895. The arrival of the railroad had made it possible to ship large blocks of granite for buildings and monuments all over the country. Noted stonemason and artist Frank Teich, a native of Germany who had supervised construction of the state capitol, established a quarry and plant (called Teich Monument Works) in 1901. From his plant, he crafted Confederate monuments for the cities of Austin, San Antonio, Dallas and others. He sculpted a Masonic monument that still stands in Kansas City. While Llano’s growth definitely slowed, the town was well enough established by 1904 that the Texas Almanac described it as follows: “The town contains 2,000 inhabitants, and is beautifully located on both sides of the Llano River. The town commands the trade of a large scope of country.” That was also the year that the first library was established (with 109 books) in the home of a civic-minded lady named Mrs. Porter. And it was the year of the first Llano County Fair.
The growth and modernization continued. The first car appeared in Llano in 1908; it was used by Dr. David Livingstone to make house calls. Dozens of businesses were thriving in Llano in 1910, including six hotels, four restaurants, six grocery stores, two lumber yards, two newspapers, three pool halls, four barbershops, three banks and two bakeries (among others). Despite a tornado which inflicted serious damage in 1916, the Llano News reported in 1929 that the last 20 years had been “a period of expansion and city development never before known,” even during the boom years. The paper cited as evidence the new Granite City Hotel, the paved city streets and the two new highways coming through town. In 1921, Llano was home to more than a dozen granite companies.
Llano found itself in the spotlight again when a 22-year-old local cowboy and horse trainer named Cecil Smith discovered the game of polo. After learning the basics of the game on the rocky hillsides of the C.T. Moss Ranch, in southern Llano County, Smith used his horsemanship and natural athletic ability to take the aristocratic sport by storm. He became a national hero in 1933, when his western team defeated a team of eastern millionaires who had been considered the best in the world. He was inducted into the Polo Hall of Fame in 1990, and is still considered by many to be the best polo player of all time.
Otherwise, the 1930s were not such a good time in Llano. Drought and economic depression took their toll, but when it rained, it poured! A massive flood in the summer of 1935 took down the Llano River bridge and wreaked havoc in the town. A new bridge, named for Roy B. Inks, was completed in 1936. (Inks was a local hero who had managed the Opera House, owned the local Ford dealership, served as Llano’s mayor and as a director of the newly-formed LCRA. He died of pneumonia in 1935, shortly after the flood and after his work had helped bring federal funding to complete Buchanan Dam. The next dam and lake completed after Buchanan were named Inks Dam and Inks Lake for the former mayor.)
World War II dominated the 1940s, and the 1950s were the decade of prolonged drought, but Llano endured and even prospered. Granite quarrying and finishing remained important industries, bringing $1 million a year into Llano’s economy by the 1950s. By 1964 the town had added a fine new hospital, a community center, a rodeo arena, and a golf course, along with a city park and an improved water system.
The Llano River valley boasts the highest concentration of whitetail deer in Texas, and modern Llano (“The Deer Capital of Texas”) is famous as a hunting mecca. It is also famous as the home of many accomplished rodeo stars and for excellent barbeque. It is becoming famous for quality live music events at Fuel Coffee House and the Lantex theater; it boasts several fine parks on both sides of the river, and the entire downtown area around the square is listed on the National Historical Register.
With its economy depending more and more on tourism, Llano goes the extra mile to give tourists good reasons to visit. Not only is the historic district full of charming shops, art galleries and good places to eat, but Llano sponsors an abundance of excellent festivals and historic celebrations. The Crawfish Open in April, Texas Proud in May, Rock'n Riverfest in July, Heritage Days (accompanied by an impressive Chuck Wagon Cook-Off) in October, and Starry, Starry Nights in December. Perhaps Llano's biggest attractions are the charming small-town atmosphere and the friendly residents. In many ways, Llano exemplifies what is best in the Texas Hill Country.
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SPAIN CLAIMS NEW WORLD |
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Texas News March 1493 |
Barcelona. Spanish rulers are elated at the success of Columbus in reaching the Indies. According to reliable reports, the Genoa-born Italian will be given the title "Admiral of the Ocean Sea" as a token of gratitude. It is also said that plans will be made immediately for founding colonies in the lands Columbus visited. Government officials predict a new age of expansion and prosperity for Spain.
Palos. Citizens of this port doubt the truth of the story that the Queen had to pawn her jewels in order to finance the voyage of Columbus. The cost was not great, and local merchants paid some part of it. Columbus received about a dollar per day for commanding the expedition, and members of the crew were paid about ten cents a day.
Rome. Scholars here herald the voyage of Columbus as the beginning of a new age. Some reports state that the Pope will issue a statement confirming the Spanish claim to the lands Columbus visited.
Lisbon. Although the Portuguese recognize the importance of the voyage of Columbus, their enthusiasm is tempered by disappointment. They have spent half a century trying to reach the Indies by sailing around Africa; to have the Spaniards meet with success on their first attempt comes as a blow to Portugal's pride.
London. Trade, colonization, and an enlarged navy are the chief topics of conversation in this capital. Some English leaders regret that Columbus did not sail under the flag of England, but others insist that the flag under which he sailed is a matter of little importance. Authorities generally agree that England will profit from the discovery and that Spanish claims of ownership in those lands will cause little concern here.
Oslo. News of the voyage of Columbus received scant attention here. The Italian sailor is looked upon as no more than a belated traveler who claims to have discovered a land which Norsemen visited five hundred years ago.
Caddo Indian Village. The wise men of the Caddoes have little interest in the fact that a few Europeans have made their way across the Eastern Ocean. They believe that the ocean will prove to be too great a barrier for the Europeans, and that the Indians need do no more than continue their traditional policy of isolation.
Genoa. The successful voyage of Columbus has brought great rejoicing to this city of his birth, but with it has come a very real fear that the discovery of a water route to the Indies will put an end to the monopoly on trade with the East which Italian cities have long enjoyed. Some predict that the discovery marks the end of the golden age of the Italian cities and foresee a long period of decline.
COLUMBUS REACHES INDIES BY SAILING WEST
Barcelona, 1493. The safe return of Christopher Columbus from his ocean voyage to the west has amazed all of Europe. His recent arrival at Palos aroused greater excitement than has ever been known in Spain, for virtually no one believed, when he sailed away last year, that he would ever return to these shores. There is great rejoicing that to Spain belongs the glory of finding a water route to India.
Columbus and his expedition of about ninety men sailed from Palos on August 3, 1492, and did not see land again until October 12. A leader less determined than Columbus would probably have failed, for many times during the last weeks of the long voyage, his sailors threatened mutiny. They feared that the vessels might fall off the edge of a flat earth or that great ocean monsters would devour them.
Under the sponsorship of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain, Columbus set out to find a western water route to the spice-rich lands of Cathay and the Indies. Convinced that he had reached islands off the shores of Cathay, he returned to Spain with several Indians, as he calls the dark-skinned inhabitants of those islands, as well as exhibits of the plant and animal life there. He has reported that cotton grows well there and that gold can also be found.
The vessels which made the great voyage are the Nina of forty tons, the Pinta of fifty tons, and the great Santa Maria of one hundred tons. Only two of these returned to Spain, the Santa Maria having been wrecked on a sandbar in the Indies. The people Columbus found when he reached land were greatly impressed with the size and beauty of the vessels. They also marveled at the strange clothing and pale complexions of the visitors.
When he appeared before the King and Queen, Columbus had with him several Indians with gold ornaments and spears and armor. His sailors carried birds of rare and beautiful plumage and odd-looking animals. The sailors speak enthusiastically of the lush vegetation, even in the winter months, in the lands they visited and of the fragrant trees and flowers and singing nightingales. The Indies indeed seemed like an enchanted land.
When they landed on those distant shores, Columbus took formal possession of the land in the name of the rulers of Spain. Wherever he went afterwards, he erected a cross and again claimed the land for Spain.
Many Europeans will accept the success of Columbus in finding land on the western side of the ocean as proof that the world is round.
NOTE: This and the following Texas News Stories are from the book Texas News, a miscellany of Texas History in Newspaper Style.
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.
A little, old German book, found its way to Elke & Kurt Ditges’ “Der Alte Fritz”, Antique Store in Fredericksburg. It is titled Hermann Oeser’s—Ein Ehzuchtbeuchlein, by Eugen Salzer, Heilbronn, copyright 1913, with Buch Schmueckte (illustrations by Rudolf Schaefer). It was published at the Christian Scheufele Book Printers, Stuttgart. It’s a tiny book of proverbs on getting along, especially concerning personal and marital relations. Without total reliance on one another, these idealistic immigrants to Texas would not have been able to reach their destination, stake their claims, and stay at it, come what may. Especially inspiring, when a partner died, or orphans were left behind in Friedrichsburg, other families would welcome them into their homes time and time again, regardless of their age, young or elderly. Schaefer’s drawing of the couple walking and hanging on to one another really caught my eye. The book’s copyright holder today is Verlag Ernst Kaufmann, Lahr, Germany, and they have granted the author permission to use this drawing of the “wanderers”. The heirs of Rudolf Schaefer need to know that many years later someone, even as far away as Texas, someone was inspired by his unique drawing.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 11th 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.
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 8th 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 8th 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.”
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!
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:
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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 50th 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.
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.).
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.
For the past four-and-a-half decades, a group of prominent citizens from the Florida Panhandle has blocked time off their busy schedules and made a pilgrimage to Llano County for the first week of hunting season. Even in a county famous for its abundance of deer (and enthusiastic hunters) this is a remarkable story.
According to Allen Bell, an insurance executive from Crestview, it all started when his father-in-law and a friend decided to lease the Etheridge Ranch, north of Llano, for a hunting trip in 1964. Bell's father-in-law is Florida State Senator William Dean "Wig" Barrow; his friend is a prominent Crestview businessman named Hervis Ward. The two brought several family members with them -- fathers, sons, and sons-in-law -- and all enjoyed the hunt so much that it became a yearly tradition. Now, each year's schedule is built around the hunting trip.
So many were eager to join the hunt that, when another Etheridge property became available south of town in 1985, Senator Barrow leased it, leaving the original lease to the Ward family group. The new lease was thirteen miles off Highway 16 (and more than seven miles from a paved road), sharing a fenceline with the Enchanted Rock State Natural Area. The natural beauty of the land and the abundance of deer made it a perfect spot for hunting.
The new lease included had been part of the famous Moss Ranch, a vast expanse of southern Llano County put together during cattle drive days by the family of Texas pioneer Matthew Moss (Moss fought under General Sam Houston at the Battle of San Jacinto; the Moss Ranch once included Enchanted Rock). The current owner of the property, Barbara Harlow, is the great-great-granddaughter of Matthew Moss. Hunters stay at a WW II-era quonset hut next to Walnut Creek, which once served as a bunkhouse for ranchhands.
The group which began hunting at the new location included Wig Barrow, current leaseholder Allen Bell, attorney C. Edwin Rude (whose legal background has earned him the honorary title, "Judge of Walnut Creek") and longtime Florida Congressman Bob Sikes. Through the past 25 years, fellow-hunters have included Florida Gators All-American Charles LaPradd (later a college president) and renowned Jacksonville defense attorney Carlton Maddox.
The "Old Quonset Hut" (the name is made official by a wooden sign at the door) has been upgraded a few times in the last 60 years. "It used to be a lot more rustic," Bell says. They've added two bathrooms and a kitchen on the back." But it's certainly not luxurious accommodations that bring the group back year after year. "It's more than just the hunt," Bell adds. "This week is like a reunion."
"It's like re-setting your clock," adds his brother, John, who owns Coloney Bell Engineering in Tallahassee. "When you cross that first cattle guard, the stress just rolls off your back."
Attorney Edwin Rude has been one of the group for twenty-four years. He served on active duty in the military for five years before going on to become a colonel in the Army Reserve; he has been practicing law for the past thirty-two years. He's the only one who has ever brought work with him to the old quonset hut. "I even joined the Llano Chamber of Commerce," he says. "They let me fax papers back to the office when I'm in town."
"I'm the oldest in this group," he points out (there were eight hunters at the old quonset hut this year). "But I'll keep coming until I can't any more." His son, a broker for MetLife in Tampa, often accompanies him to Llano. "I hope one day he'll bring his son."
Allen Bell's son and son-in-law are both part of the group, and Bell says "I fully intend to keep passing this tradition down. We get a lot of venison, but it's not just about the hunt," he continues. "We've seen good seasons and bad seasons, but we stick it out and work with what we have. This year, I'm just the cook."
On a typical year, the group arrives on Thursday evening before Opening Day, and goes out to Cooper's BBQ for dinner. "We try to get to Cooper's as often as we can," Bell explains. Friday is spent buying provisions and getting ready for the hunt. "We spend a lot of money in Llano every year." On Sunday night, the group hosts a campfire, where, in conjunction with the Boy Scouts of America, they retire a number of old American flags in the appropriately respectful manner. On Wednesday night, before leaving on Thursday, they gather at a rock on the western edge of the property. There, they sit, talk, toast the Hill Country, and say good-bye to Texas.
"We all get along real well," says Rude. "We love this property; we respect nature; we respect the landlady" (Barbara Harlow). One interesting sidelight is that the Bell brothers are distantly related to Sam Houston through his Tennessee family. And Barbara Harlow is descended from Matthew Moss, who knew Houston well. "It's almost like our families have always been friends," Bell says.
From the time the hunters leave, they're planning to come back; Bell says this week in Llano is "the highlight of our year." It's a tremendous compliment to Llano County to have such loyal guests, and it's guests like these Floridians who make Llano truly "The Deer Capital of Texas."
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.
“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 100th 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.
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.
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 15th 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.
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.
In all the hurly-burly of our modern world and the urban 21st Century it’s not that often that we get a chance to claim to be a part of history. This month I was a participant in a rural event that was a historic milestone in my life if not the State of Texas. I got a chance to be a cowboy again in the very first cattle drive to the Hill Country State Natural Area in Bandera, Texas. And oh my gosh it was fun!
Before this story begins you need to know right from the start, I’m a big fan of Texas history. Have been since I was a boy. I remember sitting in class listening to thrilling stories about Bowie, Crockett and Travis. Their sacrifice at the Alamo for Texas liberty and many other Texas tales continue to have a great influence on me and my attitude about freedom, liberty, politics and life in our society to this day. And I learned in school that the history of Texas is pretty much the history of the west. And what young boy has not dreamed of being a cowboy?
The boy in me got live the dream October 15, 2010 thanks to luck and the kindness of the Texas Hill Country group on Facebook, the Running-R Guest Ranch in Bandera, Texas and the Hill Country State Natural Area. Lady luck smiled and I won a free ticket to participate in this first cattle drive. To win this coveted award all I had to do was submit a one paragraph essay indicating why I thought I should win the opportunity. I think I may have broken the sound barrier typing up my response. I know my fingers were a blur across the keyboard and the friction must have caused smoke signals. My words were from the heart and my reward was in the mail. Email that is.
Say what you will about our modern age. But wild horses couldn’t have kept me from reporting for duty at the Running-R Ranch on Friday afternoon as their email instructed. I changed my life to be there. I canceled all calls. I didn’t go to school that day. I stood up my girlfriend. I emailed every member of my family, all my friends and even a few enemies telling them where I was going and what I would be doing. Humility did not appear in my email, but joy did. So what follows is my best effort to record my impressions and memories from one of the best weekends of my life. The names haven’t been changed to protect the innocent. Cause I can’t remember names anyway.
It was with rare grace I took the drive to Bandera, Texas from San Antonio. If you don’t know this drive let me tell you it is a cruise that provides a delight all on its own. My eager anticipation took me through Boerne - The Heart of The Texas Hill Country. The run from Boerne across State Highway 46 to Highway 16 offers sweeping vistas of prime Texas Hill Country real estate. The weather was perfect. The hills were beckoning. Highway 46 climbs and winds and tempts like a country road should. It reminds me this road is best experienced from the saddle of a fully dressed Honda Shadow 1100cc purring like a two wheeled cat. Forty-six intersects with Highway 16 and it leads northwest through Pipe Creek into Bandera County. I know this country like the back of my hand having done business there for over a decade as one of the region’s first renewable energy dealers back in the 1990s. I have rode these roads on a cycle of glory. And I know that if you don’t know where you’re going sometimes it seems like a long trip. Once you know where you’ve been the drive home seems much too quick.
Upon my arrival at the Running-R Ranch I had the pleasure of meeting an attractive female ranch boss. “Tiggs” (Diane Migliaccio) is a long-haired cowhand from the wild eastern country of New Jersey. I supposed to myself that she is a kindred spirit in love with the legacy of the west and Texas itself. At least I hope that’s the case. Tiggs was coaching two other female participants about our roles in the cattle drive. I tried to pay attention but an office chair and the autumn air persuaded me a nap would be a lot more interesting. From what I can remember about what she said it boiled down to, if we fell off our horse and broke our fool necks then it was a big hill country and there are a lot of places to hide a body. Like I said, I wasn’t paying much attention.
The Running-R Ranch is the ancestral home of the Kirchner family of Bandera, Texas. The main house and office sit atop a hill over looking 200 acres of green over grazed pastures, dusty roads and verdant hills. Near the office is the chow hall, swimming pool and the usual barns and corrals that can be found just by following your nose. Past the office and down the drive are comfortable looking guest houses. The grounds are well kept, landscaped with native flora and accented with rusty farm implements that look like they were used until they couldn’t go no more. Everywhere you look in this area a photograph is waiting to be taken. I was particularly fond of the picket fence lined with old cowboy boots. I suspect every darn one of these boots was worn out working this ranch. The front porch on the chow hall has enough rocking chairs for a party of eight. When I first saw these classic rockers I thought they were a lot wider than the chairs I remembered from my youth. Imagine my surprise when I sat down in one and it fit perfectly.
Friday afternoon we got to meet the horse the ranch paired us up with. My first match was a Nevada mustang by the name of Shorty. I was told by Justin (the Head Cowhand) that Shorty was obtained from a prison. I don’t know how long Shorty has been on parole but my attempts to bond with this convict were less than successful. To my observation most of the horses at the Running-R are chubby, happy and well cared for. For the most part they are a friendly bunch and ready to meet new people. It’s always a good sign when you meet a new cat, dog or horse and that animal reaches out to you to make your acquaintance. Now you may not believe it by looking at me but I am not a total greenhorn. I actually have some experience with horses, cows and the day to day life of living and working on a ranch. I also have experience breaking Nevada mustangs but that was thirty years and a hundred pounds ago. And although it’s not my habit to admit to knowing anything I knew that look Shorty was giving me. And he wasn’t looking at me like he loved me.
There was a lot of daylight left to the day and we had not yet had our full crew report for duty. Justin suggested we saddle up and take a short ride just to get warmed up and see how we’re going to do. I led old Shorty out of the stall and out into the corral to put on his halter. Slyly he followed me showing no visible signs of resistance. And I decided that if we were not going to be friends then at least I could remind him of his role as a ranch tool that is used to get a job done. After all, a real cowboy shows the horse who’s the boss - right?
All geared up I have to tell you our first departure from the corral out into these Texas pastures was a return to paradise for me. Eden like the Sun was arcing low and blazing in a clear western sky. The temperature was warm enough you could have rode around wearing nothing but a fig leaf. A mild breeze was blowing. Birds could be heard calling from the distant cedars. The rocking walk of a good horse through new country is exactly what I was made for and I was enjoying every sweet, intoxicating minute of it. In my head I thought of an old western song that goes, “Take me back to my boots and saddle.” I was in heaven and hoping that the angel who sits on my shoulder and seems to watch over me at these times was enjoying it also. Earth without end, Amen.
Our line of horses seemed to float down a path they knew very well. Shorty started out nearly sticking his head up the butt of the horse in front of us. I soon figured out he was just prodding the guy in front to hurry up or let us pass. Justin trotted by on his mount mentioning that this pasture is the field where the ranch usually turns horses out in the evening to take a run and play. And at this mention old Shorty’s ears perked right up and he looked alert for the very first time. Suddenly with a discovered initiative Shorty made a unilateral decision to break into a trot. Now that was OK and I decided to go with it. After all, I did need to check out my mount. However, Shorty’s trot was all too brief. Because then he decided that it was time for a good old fashion run. And here we go.
I have run horses before. I had not been on horse in fifteen years. I don’t remember it being so difficult to stay in the saddle. For a short legged horse Shorty had a take off that reminds me of smoking dragster leaving the start line. The unexpected G forces from his forward lunge knocked the hat right off my head. Fortunately the hat was caught by my cinch string. Grabbing the saddle horn with my right hand I felt first and then heard his hooves pounding the ground. It sounded like someone thumping a familiar rhythm on a big bass drum. In a dazzle we left the pack and were gone the length of a football field and like a fat boy Shorty was snorting hard. So was I. You see this horse was trying to get rid of me but I was just not cooperating. I was doing the best I could. To me Shorty’s run was like riding a jack hammer. As he galloped across the landscape the saddle slapped my butt and parts of me that I usually try to protect from such damage. Assuming my gallop stance I foolishly thought about something I read by Mark Twain who got thrown off a horse he bought in Nevada. Twain wrote then that he decided if the seller of this nag were to expire at that moment in time that he would make every effort to cancel all appointments and attend his funeral. And I quickly felt that way about Shorty. Enough was enough and I pulled hard back on the reins to put a stop to our flight. If Shorty had a bit I probably would have yanked out his back molars. He pulled up in a cloud of dust and stamped his feet in frustration. I didn’t care. I am too damned fat and old for this stuff and I told him so, “Not today!” Actually I will spare you the various words I used. I don’t use them in church. The remainder of the ride was fairly uneventful with me providing Shorty a few reminders that he was not hosting a jockey. Later when we got back to the barn I told Justin he may want to partner me up with a more settled pony. I’m too old to cut the mustard. I just stir it.
Since I was attending this event free gratis, I did not get to enjoy the comfort of one of the Running-R’s guest houses. Maybe next time. But I did enjoy my stay. I was one of the fortunate few who got to camp out near the arena at the Hill Country State Natural Area. Our camp ground was near an old homestead there on park property. Our camp site was nestled beneath a huge heritage Live Oak tree. Her graceful boughs hung low to the ground like a mother’s arms embracing and welcoming her children. Her compassionate shade cooled our camp during the day and shielded us in the night. If you’re from sunny South Texas you know that shade here is worth gold.
The Hill Country State Natural Area is a Texas state park that claims to be place far removed from civilization. And in that regard they can share that claim with Big Bend. The State Natural Area is one of those places you go because you want to. It is not on the way to anywhere. It is tucked away in the rugged terrain southwest of Bandera, Texas. If you don’t know Bandera it is an interesting little community on the Medina River that claims to be the birthplace of the cowboy. The park offers about forty miles of primitive trails that wind through grassy valleys, cross spring-fed streams and climb steep limestone hills. The park is mostly undeveloped and visitors must pack out all materials and trash they bring in. Most camping is primitive walk-in tent sites. There are limited RV connections near the park headquarters. Fishing and swimming are allowed in the creeks. Horses are just as welcomed as people. If you want to see what South Texas would look like without development this is the place. All the park personnel I met were friendly, helpful, professional and they seemed genuinely happy that we were there visiting. I have to commend these park rangers and would like them to know they did their profession and our state proud. Thank you guys, I don’t mind paying taxes for service like that.
After we had all set up camp and after our afternoon ride we had a dinner at the Running-R Ranch that was to die for. Nothing special or exotic but the food was good, plentiful and a blessing to a single man like myself who does not cook. I don’t know where the Running-R R found their cook but they better hang onto him. We all feasted, fatted and farted and retired to our camp which now had enough tents to resemble a small village. It was primitive camping but I’ve never had a problem with that. It helps when you’re prepared with a good bed roll and a pad to cushion your old bones from the rocky ground. During the night more participants showed up waking me up with their car lights and noise. They had to pitch their tents in the dark. I wish I could say that I was ashamed of being amused at their fussing with one another and their struggle with their tents. But I chuckled as their struggle reminded me again of Mark Twain when he was vacationing in the Hawaiian Islands and he happened to come upon some young ladies swimming naked in the surf. Twain noticed that the girls had left their clothes on the beach. So being a good pilgrim he sat down on their clothes to protect them and enjoy the frolic. Once everyone got settled sleep resumed and the good night passed peacefully overhead with a thousand stars just a big and bright as the song says they are. Coyotes howled in the distance. A cold chill crept in slowly and those not as prepared complained and suffered. And if the cold did not keep them awake that night my snoring did. They told me so.
I-God Saturday morning was a beauty. The Sun slowly peaked over the Texas hills. Rubbing my eyes clear I could see the grass and just about everything else was wet with dew. Sunbeams sliced through the trees in lighted columns of grandeur that struck each blade in way that made the dew sparkle like gems on a fine woman’s hand. Wet spider webs hung in the trees and gleamed like a diamond necklaces. Water dripped slowly from leaves all around baptized into a new life. The drops seen through the sunlight were reborn into falling jewels as gifts for Mother Earth. There was a clean, fresh smell in the air you can only find when you’re up the country. There was no sound - just stillness. No cars, no phones, no radios or TV. Just you, the crisp air, the fog of your breath. A human being standing there alone in the morning with your thoughts and your heart beating alive and well. Living on the Earth the way it’s supposed to be. The way it was meant to be. No camera could have caught it. No painting could show the three hundred and sixty degrees of green serenity that cradled and surrounded us.
Breakfast was typical ranch fare with good coffee, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits just what you would expect. No worries, no complaints and the price was right. After breakfast we got introduced to our Trail Boss and friendly park personnel from the State Natural Area. I didn’t think our party presented much of a threat but the park personnel were armed with pistols.
The Trail Boss gave us the run down of where we’re going and the type of terrain we should expect. As it turned out no words could have done the territory justice. It has to be seen to be believed. He also told us to expect to be in the saddle for about eight hours on Saturday and around six hours on Sunday. Our itinerary had us driving about thirty cattle from the Running-R Ranch fifteen miles to the arena at State Natural Area and back again the next day through country that probably had not seen a cattle drive in a hundred years. It was during this orientation that Tiggs told us that a cattle drive to the State Natural Area had never been attempted before and we were the lucky first. The purpose of the drive was to bring attention to the Hill Country State Natural Area which it seems is one of the best kept secrets in the state. That news made me even more excited and proud. I told Justin I want my name on a plaque somewhere.
Back out to the corral I got to meet my second match. I have to say it was a real pleasure. Curly is a brown gelding with a blonde mane and graceful blonde tail. Not only is he a handsome devil but based on what I know now he is probably one of the smartest horses I’ve ever met. If you ever meet a horse that takes care of you as much as you try to take care of him buy him, keep him. Don’t let anyone else have him. I was grateful as I could be to Justin for figuring out this match made in heaven. Not being in position to tip the staff for their kindness and courtesy I found a tip in my truck for this good young cowhand. I gave him chrome, twisted hard case horse bit that I had been carrying around for five years not knowing what the heck I was going to do with it. My life of the last six years had taken me so far from home, Texas, the country, horses and back here again. I don’t know if I have the words to tell you what it a privilege it was for me to be standing there on my own two legs as a free man in God’s country next to good horse and good company. The story of that journey is for another article. I will say that if you pressed me I might be able to tell you in a choked whisper how grateful I was as the tears welled up in my eyes. But so much for the tears of men. It don’t mean nothing. Humanity has cried a Mississippi River of tears throughout the eons. Tears of joy like mine that day and tears of sorrow. The affairs of men are just a romance with lovers who have come and gone.
Old Shorty got matched again to a very good man by the name of Miguel Amaya. Miguel is from Honduras and he is a PhD teaching engineering at the University of Texas in Arlington. I liked Miguel just a soon as I met him. He’s a younger man and ready for a horse full of piss and vinegar like Shorty. Turns out those two were a good match. The remainder of our company was an odd collection of people who probably only demonstrate that great minds think alike. I will have to beg the pardon and forgiveness of this motley crew now because I did not record all their names in my short term memory. Folks please forgive me. I did not know then that I would be recording this event and my forgetfulness is a symptom of my age and distracted nature. I do remember there were two pissy older ladies who came as a couple. One of them brought her own English saddle to ride. There was young boy and his adult guardian. They were from Indiana. There was young girl with her dad. We also had two other ladies in their late thirties. One who came alone and Jody who came with her family from Austin. Jody proved to be a constant talker and an excellent rider and she seemed to be everywhere on this drive. The remainder of our contingent was made up of two male United States Government Issues (GIs) from the US Army. I got to visit with Dennis Wilson who has been serving our country for twelve years. The other gentlemen brought his attractive wife. Her name was Petra. Petra was from Germany and had never been near a horse or a ranch in her life. What an adventure this cattle drive must have been for her.
So there we were an unlikely crew that for some reason contained very few natives but did contain a collection of hearts that have probably roamed these hills a thousand times in their dreams and the imagination of the mind. We were some thirteen guests along with cowhands who actually knew what they were doing and a few park rangers. We were out to do a job two good cowboys could have done by themselves any day of the week. Even so, my heart swelled with pride as the gate opened and we rode out to find our four legged, horned victims for the day. And it was on.
It would probably take up too much time, pages and electrons to type up all the adventures we had that day and the next. Out of courtesy I won’t strain the attention span of my good reader. But I will relate two events of note. First thing Saturday morning after we had located our cattle we drove them into the first low area that our party came to call Mayhem Valley. Things seemed to be going along OK as near as I could tell from my two o’clock position on the herd. I found that turning around in the saddle and trying to see what was going on behind me did not agree with my ribs or my neck so I quit that pretty quick. My ears however continued to monitor things for me and it was in this valley I heard a galloping of multiple hooves. It seems the cows behind me got excited for some reason I never knew. In unison they made a one hundred eighty degree left turn back through the crotch of this valley right into the face of some of our brand new cowboys. This bovine rush scared three horses so bad they threw their riders. Curly and I turned around just in time to see a black gelding with an empty saddle race across the far side of the field and all the way back home to the barns. The other two horses stayed in close proximity and were retrieved. However one of our casualties was one of the older ladies and she declined to stay with such a flighty mount and requested a different horse. Fortunately no serious injuries were incurred but we were delayed from the start in Mayhem Valley until ranch personnel could bring up replacement mounts.
The second event I will share is one that made me understand how smart Curly really is. That is when he earned my admiration and respect. There was one creek to cross on the trail mapped out for us by the park rangers. If you know anything about most South Texas creeks they are rarely very deep or very wide but they do contain a string of water and slick caleche mud that stretches for many, many miles to destinations unknown. Most of these creeks try to find a river to empty into or they dive straight underground and disappear into the limestone layers of the Austin Chalk Box. Did I mention the mud?
Our route across this creek took us down an embankment that was fairly steep. Less able riders were counseled by staff not to take this embankment if they did not feel confident. They were directed to use a road crossing about a half mile down from where the herd would cross. Well you know Curly and I had to take the embankment and we did. The brush here along the creek was thick and tall. This brush thicket forced cattle and horses to either bunch up tight to cross or crash through where access was not at all obvious. My position on the herd put me behind a pack of ten cows and about three cowboys. This collection of cows hesitated at the creek water edge and thought twice about crossing at all or they attempted a leap that was downright athletic. Cowhand John in front of me started his crossing without any hesitation and his mare promptly sunk to her knees in the beige, gooey mud. This crisis caused the remaining cows even more confusion and they milled right in front of me considering the obstacle. On his own Curly decided to hell with that stuff and he took me around and on a jump across that creek and up the other side of the embankment in a flash. It was smooth move that was so clean and professional I couldn’t help but smile and laugh. I praised that horse and patted his neck until I run out of words I thought horse might even understand. I’m sure all Curly heard was “Blah, blah, blah, good boy Curly!” But if I’d been on foot I would have hugged his hairy neck. At the top of the second embankment was the first chance I had to take my foot out of the stirrups and take a stretch. Curly stretched his neck around to check the tip of my boot with his nose as if to say, “Got you covered boss.” That Curly is one hell of a horse and he proved it all weekend.
The rest of the day is worthy of more words but I am still trying to bring this story to a quicker conclusion. I will just say that our drive continued with no more casualties. On more than one occasion we had to stop just so everyone could oh and ah a landscape that commands attention if not photographs. We all made the count when we arrived at the arena. But wouldn’t you know it within sight of the arena gate one cow made a break for it and hit the woods at run. And she got away from us all. What’s funny about that is she showed up a few hours later wanting to join back up with the rest of the herd. We had already unsaddled our mounts and turned them loose so Tiggs and another cowhand cracked her into the arena pen on foot with a pair of bull whips.
That evening the cowhands invited us all over to the arena pen for some play. At dusk the game was to take a horse into the arena pen with the cows and practice separating a few cows from the herd and holding them with your horse. On the surface this sounds pretty simple but I know from experience this takes a skill that don’t grow trees. Come to find out this is precisely the job Old Shorty was born to do. Miguel and that horse got out there and tore them cows up. That Shorty could turn on dime and jump side to side on his front legs in a cut that matched any jump or turn a cow would make. It was a joy to watch. Jody joined the fun and again showed her skill on a horse. Now I could have done that if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to. I spent my remaining daylight hours watching them and walking around the old homestead taking pictures. Let the young people have their fun. There was a time for me. Dinner that night was served around a camp fire. I swear to God I have never ate brisket that tender in my life. I asked Cooky how he made such great brisket and he told me he soaked it wine for two days. Bless that man Lord, bless him.
The next day was only as remarkable as the first. I woke up realizing why most real cowboys are bow legged. Getting dressed just to go to the toilet was a painful experience that only got better the more I moved. I got to tell you, when you have a steel plate in your leg, only eighty degrees of bend in your right knee and you’re saddle sore when nature calls it is a challenge that has to be met. Breakfast was another triumph but the Trail Boss informed us then that the training period was over. The cows had to be back at the Running-R that day and that was top priority. There would be no breaks and no lunch for us that day until the task was done. Believe it or not we all stepped up to the plate and got it done.
We took a slightly different route back to the Running-R Ranch. Our journey this day took us through vast fields of brown tipped tall Johnson grass that danced and waved in a prairie wind. The coordinated back and forth ripple and rattle of this grass reminded me more of running water and I got lost in the hypnotic rhythm and rhyme. The next field took us through acres of yellow flowers that lined up on stalks as tall as Curly was. If we stopped for one moment Curly would reach over and grab himself a mouth full of flowers and chomp them down cause he had not been served breakfast like I had. You couldn’t take one step through there without pushing these flower stalks aside. The stiff stalks grabbed at your pant leg and nearly pulled my foot out of the stirrup. It was like Dorothy walking through a field of stubborn poppies. After the fields we were back in the cedar brush and the pace was so slow I could have slept while Curly worked his way to the front of the herd and he and I practiced lead with the Trail Boss. Sunday was hotter and drier than Saturday. And as much as I wanted this day to last a thousand years too soon it was over. I think it may be over for me too. This was probably my last ride. In less than three years I will be sixty years old. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.
Just before we reached corrals the Trail Boss rounded us all up one last time and tipped his hat in respect to say it had been a pleasure to ride with us. That was much appreciated. Now I know we haven’t done anything that has not been done before. We had not even done something that has not been done in Bandera, Texas. But we were the first party to drive a herd of cattle to the Hill Country State Natural Area that with proper management and care could potentially become one of the jewels of the Texas state park system. Hopefully this cattle drive will be done again and more people can have the thrill of a genuine Texas experience like this.
So friends that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I hope you enjoyed it. I thank you for your attention. If you like it, please feel free to send me an email (sbtdesigns@yahoo.com). If you didn’t like it then don’t tell anyone. Adios and Via Con Dios. Happy trails to you all!
v
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
Horseshoe Bay -- Lake LBJ resort is a magnificent Hill Country dream come true
Horseshoe Bay is the product of the big dreams and hard work of two Hill Country cousins. Norman and Wayne Hurd turned a ranch on the shore of Lake LBJ into the Texas Hill Country's premiere resort.
Norman and Wayne Hurd were cousins in the small Hill Country town of Brady, but there was nothing small about their dreams. When Norman and his wife, Dorothy, began looking for lakefront property in 1968, their search led them to the Lupton Ranch, on the south bank of constant-level Lake LBJ. He saw the property's tremendous potential, and enlisted the help of his cousin, Wayne, to develop it. Wayne Hurd, a World War II vet who had come home to a successful career as president of Las Colinas Corporation in Dallas, provided the expertise and the contacts to make his cousin's dream a reality, and Horseshoe Bay was born.
In June of 1970, the Lower Colorado River Authority announced plans to build a new power plant directly next door to Horseshoe Bay, but that shock turned into a boost when Wayne Hurd negotiated a generous agreement which allowed Horseshoe Bay to reshape the shoreline while Lake LBJ was lowered. They dredged canals to allow lake access for more lots, and built a peninsula called Lighthouse Drive with the fill, giving them an extra mile of lakefront property. When the Department of Housing and Urban Development shut down the project just two weeks after lot sales began in 1972, Wayne Hurd flew to Washington to straighten things out.
Even then, success did not come easily, and during some lean times the Hurd cousins had to seek customers from all around the world to stay afloat. But there were good times, too, and Horseshoe Bay prospered as Norman Hurd's dream took shape. He planned the whole resort and supervised all the landscaping, choosing each tree and boulder along the resort's well-groomed boulevards. Today Horseshoe Bay has grown into a 7,000-acre lakeside paradise, including a variety of luxurious accommodations and fine restaurants, four swimming pools, three championship golf courses, two fitness centers, a yacht club, an equestrian center, a marina, a spa, a tennis complex and a private airport with a 6,000-foot runway. The neighboring communities of Escondido and Skywater provide two more exceptional golf courses, designed by Tom Fazio and Jack Nicklaus.
When you're looking for the very finest, Horseshoe Bay is the perfect place for a family vacation, a business conference, or a weekend getaway. Come to visit Horseshoe Bay, the premiere resort of Texas!
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.
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!
The small town of Bertram came into being quite suddenly in the summer of 1882, when lots were sold along the route of the new railroad track. Residents of several older communities which had been by-passed by the railroad (most notably, South Gabriel) moved whole buildings to the new townsite, which was named after Rudolph Bertram, the largest shareholder in Austin and Northwestern Railroad.
The town grew and prospered, becoming one of Burnet County’s main social and commercial centers for the mostly-agricultural economy by the early 1900s. Beginning in 1903, Bertram hosted the Burnet County Fair. In 1928, the population reached 1,000, and local gins shipped more than 11,000 bales of cotton, but the Great Depression hit Bertram hard, and almost half the population was gone by 1931.
Dozens of historic buildings remain from Bertram’s heyday, and the population has grown rapidly in recent years. Bertram’s 125th birthday, celebrated June 16, 2007 was a joyous occasion marked by costumed residents, rail passengers arriving at the re-constructed depot on the Austin Steam Train Association’s Hill Country Flyer, live music, horse-and-buggy rides, a parade, unveiling of historical markers at the depot and burying of a time capsule and other activities. A history exhibit was held at the Lewis Construction building, and costumed “hawkers” sold reprints of historic Bertram newspapers.
Bertram has regained the spirit that made it such a thriving town in its early days, and the future looks bright. New homes and businesses are being built all around town, and the town overflows each Labor Day weekend as visitors flock to its unique "Oatmeal Festival." Visit www.bertramtx.com for information on attractions and future events, then visit Bertram itself, for a very pleasant experience.
If you’re looking for a great place to stay while you’re exploring the Hill Country, it’s hard to imagine anything better than a bed-and-breakfast in the very appropriately-named town of Comfort, Texas.
Strategically located within a half-hour’s drive of more well-known Hill Country towns like Fredericksburg, Kerrville, Bandera and Boerne, Comfort bills itself as an “antique town,” fully equipped with its own charming historic district and unique shops.
Comfort is situated in the beautiful valley where Cypress Creek runs in to the Guadalupe River, and the location was used by Indians long before the first German settlers arrived in 1852. The town was laid out by Ernst Hermann Altgelt in 1854, and soon became a center for the “Freethinkers,” a group of idealistic intellectuals who rejected all religion but stressed education and non-violence. The first school was built in the 1850s; the first church was built almost forty years later.
Comfort was a major force in the development of Kerr and Kendall Counties; it was August Faltin of Comfort who financed Charles Schreiner’s first store in Kerrville, and in 1860 Comfort was considered the center of pro-Union and anti-slavery activity in Texas. Before Kerr County was split (close to Comfort, which is now on the western edge of Kendall County), Comfort and Kerrville were rivals competing to become the county seat. In the middle of the 20th century, Comfort’s Adolf Stieler gained fame as the “Angora Goat King of the World,” and Comfort, though still not officially incorporated, remains the second-largest town in Kendall County.
This rich history is reflected in the charming downtown historical district, which includes several wonderful bed-and-breakfasts. The Meyer B&B began as a stage stop in 1857, serving travelers along the Old Spanish Trail. Over the years, it has been expanded several times, and now includes more than 20 rooms and suites in nine unique buildings on 27 beautiful acres along Cypress Creek. The Comfort Common B&B is probably Comfort’s most famous. It offers rooms in the historic Ingenhuett-Faust Hotel on High Street (designed by the noted English architect, Alfred Giles, in 1880) and several other buildings nearby. It also includes a complex of antique shops.
Cozy Cottage was built on Walter Brinkman’s property in downtown Comfort in 1897. It is a private, romantic getaway in an antiquer’s paradise. The Holekamp House and the Carrington House are stately, historic homes in town.
If you prefer seclusion, there are several more B&Bs just outside of town. The Alt Haus B&B is a rustic-looking log cabin (but equipped with modern conveniences) where guests can watch for Hill Country wildlife from the front porch or enjoy livestock in the back pasture. The B&B on Cypress Creek offers two upstairs rooms with balconies on Gaddis Bluff. Attractions include the creek, tame longhorns and abundant wildlife.
Other B&Bs nearby include historic farmhouses, a lumber tycoon’s mansion, luxury cabins, a hunting resort, a spa and a converted summer camp. The “Little Rock House” is on a 1,300-acre working ranch, and offers a 25-mile system of mountain biking trails. Check with the Comfort Chamber of Commerce (www.comfort-texas.com or 830-995-3131) for more information and come on down to Comfort!
Finding friends at Fuel by John Hallowell If there is a single place that best embodies the spirit of today's Texas Hill Country, I'm guessing that it's the Fuel Coffee House on East Main Street in Llano. Of course, there's not much of the "Wild West" motif at Fuel, but the century-old rock building which housed Watkins Grocery for most of the 20th century has more than its share of historic character. It also has modern equipment which allows Fuel to offer coffee drinks that rival those from any big-city Starbucks, and a sound system that produces professional-quality concerts from its rounded stage. But it's the wonderful variety of people and activities that make Fuel such a special place; any given day might find regular coffee-drinkers, laptop computer users, a knitting club, a Hebrew language class, an art class or a Bible study; a meeting of census workers, attorneys, salesmen or civic leaders. Teachers stop in before school, and students gather there in the afternoon. Musicians jam, readers read, retirees and tourists just visit. It's one of the most comfortable places you can imagine. The non-profit coffee shop's slogan is "Coffee + Music + Community." And while Fuel excels at all three, it's the music that is making a name for the unique little venue. Largely due to the efforts of Todd and Dana Wright (who managed Fuel for a couple of years), local author/musician/promoter W.C. Jameson and a loyal following known around Texas as the "Llegendary Llano Audience," Fuel has attracted a number of well-known and accomplished performers for live music up to (sometimes) four times in a week. It helps that Llano has a considerable local talent pool to draw from. Darrell Staedtler, whose songwriting credits include George Strait's #1 hit, "A Fire I Can't Put Out," is probably the best-known Llano musician. He is usually accompanied by Brandy Lee Sanderson, a golden-voiced musical prodigy who as a child used to sneak away from home to practice on the church piano and has taught herself to play several other instruments in the years since. Among the most notable of the others is Harriet Myrick, a Dallas native with a fine arts degree who has been singing professionally since she was a senior in high school, and who had nine of her songs selected by Charlie Pride's publishing company for publication in the early '90s. When she's not performing, she teaches art at Llano Elementary School. Lainey Wright was a high school senior just over a year ago, but she has just completed her second CD and a "coffeehouse tour" around Texas. Jenny Taylor won "Best New Female Vocalist of the Year" from the southwestern division of the Country Gospel Music Association last year; Keenan Fletcher teaches violin at Harmony School of the Arts in Marble Falls. Other locals participate in "Open Mike" nights and a First Friday Jam at Fuel. Recent Musical guests from other towns included an a capella women's choir from Yale University, a Methodist Youth choir from Costa Rica and a choir from the International Street Church in Dallas. Guests at W.C. Jameson's bi-monthly "Songwriters in the Round" event have included noted performers Danny Brooks, Mike Blakely, Walt Wilkins, Thomas Michael Riley, Buzz Cason, George Ensle, Paul Finley and Tim Henderson. To top it all off, Fuel has instituted a wonderful Sunday afternoon tradition of serving free hamburgers to anyone who stops in between 4:30 and 6 p.m. Volunteers cook hamburgers on a donated grill, while other volunteers serve them (with all the trimmings and complimentary coffee, water or lemonade; nothing is for sale on Sunday) and others hold signs on the street corner to alert unsuspecting passers-by to the unique event. While the original plan was to try to help locals who were feeling the economic pinch of recent years, organizers have found that the event is a blessing to many others as well. Anyone who observes the cheerful atmosphere at Fuel, especially on a Sunday afternoon, gets a better understanding of what is so good about living in the Texas Hill Country. Y'all come and see us!
Fresh from the Good Old Days
by John Hallowell
Naegelin’s Bakery is in the heart of the Hill Country’s most historic downtown, and its continuous operation since 1868 makes it the oldest bakery in Texas. New Braunfels was one of the largest cities in Texas when Edouard Naegelin arrived in 1868 with a sack of flour and less than a dollar in his pocket. He was a 24-year-old German immigrant who had fought for the South during the Civil War, then worked for a short time as a baker in San Antonio. His first New Braunfels bakery was in the Goldebagen building, at the site of the present city hall, but in 1870 he moved to the current location on Seguin Street, where his family lived in the upstairs apartment and produced fine baked goods downstairs for more than a century.
For three generations, the Naegelin family fine-tuned their family recipes, perfecting the breads, strudels, kolaches and other specialties that made them famous. They were known as much for their friendly service as for their delicious creations; customers could count on a warm welcome and spirited conversation along with the wonderful aromas in the little shop, and if neighbors couldn’t make it to the shop, Naegelin’s would deliver their products to their homes. After Edouard’s death in 1923, the bakery was run by his (Americanized) son, Edward, who remodeled the building in 1935 and bought an adjoining property with the second-oldest home in New Braunfels. Edward was succeeded by his own son, Clinton Frank, who finally sold the business when he reached retirement age around 1980. By that time, the bakery was a local icon, and the business employed about a dozen workers.
The new owner was Wilburn Granzin, who had previously managed a Bill Miller’s BBQ restaurant in San Antonio. He and his family had been frequent visitors to New Braunfels, and appreciated the rich history of the company they were buying. They moved temporarily into the upstairs apartment and set out to modernize and expand the century-old operation. He built an addition on the front of the building to increase the size of the shop, and on the back to increase the bakery’s capacity. The business grew steadily through the ‘80s and ‘90s. When he retired in 1998, two of his three sons (Todd and Ross; the oldest son, Miles, runs Granzin BBQ, just a few blocks from Naegelin’s) took over the family business.
Todd had worked for his father from the age of thirteen, but left for a career in sales before he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. The disease limits his mobility, but he handles the operations of the business very successfully, while his brother, Ross, supervises the actual production in the bakery.
Business is booming; Naegelin's is now the biggest retail bakery in the area, and employed about two dozen workers in 2008. But they haven’t forgotten the history of the oldest bakery in Texas. They still offer the traditional German baked goods from the old Naegelin recipes, and the shop is till filled with lively conversation and tantalizing aromas – not to mention the display cases packed with tempting baked treats. The old cottage next door (which the Naegelins had remodeled to use for storage) is now a charming bed & breakfast. The Seguin Street block (just south of New Braunfels’ main square) that includes the bakery is one of the most appealing urban landscapes in Texas, and while local residents still make up their core business, Naegelin’s Bakery is a “must-visit” for travelers stopping in New Braunfels. Give it a try!
Natural Treasure
by John Hallowell
If there is anyone out there who still thinks Texas is all flat and dry, a visit to Westcave Preserve would be a certain cure. And even readers of this myth-busting magazine (who already know the Hill Country better than that) will be impressed by the spectacular sights in this cool, sheltered canyon, formed by the gradual collapse of an immense limestone cave in southwestern Travis County – just 40 minutes from downtown Austin.
The centerpiece of this natural wonderland is definitely the waterfall at the end of the half-mile-long trail, where spring-fed Heinz Branch Creek tumbles abruptly into a 40-foot-deep gorge, forming a crystal-clear pool and providing moisture for an amazing variety of plant and animal life along the twisting canyon that leads to the nearby Pedernales River. But the hike along the steep and winding trail features all sorts of natural wonders in this unique, natural terrarium.
It hasn’t always looked this good. As its fame spread in the sixties, careless partiers nearly ruined the fragile eco-system, trampling vegetation, smashing cave formations and leaving piles of garbage while an absentee owner neglected his prize property. By 1973, the whole canyon was trashed.
But that year, the property was purchased by Austin architect John Covert Watson, who hired environmental activist John Ahrns to manage the property. Ahrns spent the next ten years cleaning up the property, fending off trespassers and arranging public tours. In 1983, the property was purchased by the LCRA, who leases it to the Westcave Preserve Foundation (of which Watson is a director, and Ahrns is manager) for $1 per year. The preserve is available for pre-scheduled group tours during the week and open to the public for tours (but just 30 visitors at a time) at 10 a.m., 2 p.m. and 4 p.m. on Saturday and Sundays.
The drive to Westcave is a pleasure in itself. Half-way between Round Mountain and Bee Cave on Hamilton Pool Road (just west of the Pedernales River Bridge), the preserve is surrounded by typically beautiful Hill Country terrain. When you arrive at the preserve (watch for the sign; it’s easy to miss), you’ll be struck first by the impressive (but not obtrusive; it fits its surroundings well) 3,000-sq-ft environmental learning center. Every element of the center teaches a practical environmental lesson, and there are composting toilets, a rainwater harvesting system, solar power panels and a unique network of water-filled pipes that use the constant underground temperature to heat and cool the building. It also features a solar observatory.
But this is just the first installment, and visitors are soon drawn to the trail, which meanders along a bluff overlooking the Pedernales River before twisting sharply downhill into the canyon. The trail drops forty feet, and the temperature (on a hot day) drops twenty degrees, as live oaks and cedars rapidly give way to a row of enormous bald cypress trees along the creek, and lush, tropical-looking vegetation lines both sides of the trail. Across a foot-bridge and around a bend waits the most spectacular sight of all: a 40-foot waterfall, cascading over moss-covered rocks into an emerald pool.
Westcave Preserve is a natural treasure, and a wonderful destination for folks of all ages who enjoy the beauty of God’s creation. If anyone ever again tries to tell you that Texas is flat and dry, just refer them to www.westcave.org.
Hill Country Outlaws
by John Hallowell
The headline screamed “Yeggs Rob Hondo Banks,” (The dictionary defines “yegg” as: “a thief, especially a burglar or safe-cracker.”) and the Hondo Anvil Herald added, “One of the Most Daring Robberies Ever Staged in Texas Occurred Here Sunday Morning.”
Although it was early in their careers, the Newton brothers (Jess, Willis, Doc and Joe) were already very good at their chosen profession. The Anvil Herald account noted that the robbers were “experts in explosives,” having blown the door off the State Bank vault with TNT and at the same time having worked the combination of the safe in the First National Bank, just 200 feet away.
Between midnight and daybreak (according to the newspaper), all the telephone lines in town were cut “by someone thoroughly acquainted with the system,” and “entrance to the first National Bank was effected by forcing the front doors, while entrance to the State Bank was effected by prizing down bars over the last window in the alley between Parker’s and the bank.” Nearly $5,000 cash was taken (mostly in silver coin), along with an estimated $25,000 to $30,000 in government bonds and War Savings stamps. For an estimated two hours, the thieves “beat open private boxes” with a sledgehammer they had stolen from a nearby blacksmith shop and ransacked the vault, leaving everything traceable in a two-foot-deep pile on the floor. The owners of those private boxes bore the heaviest losses in the robbery.
Although the night watchman was sitting “not more than 60 yards away” in the waiting room at the railroad depot, the robbery was not discovered until 5 a.m., and by that time, there was no clue as to the direction of their flight.
A pair of pick handles were discovered in the vault, apparently for the thieves to “put up a fight” if they were discovered. A crow bar stolen “from the tool house of Pat Lynch’s section crew” was found in the alley, and detectives believed that it had been used to break in through the barred window.
It was January of 1921, and although the world had not yet heard of the Newton brothers, the exploits of their home-grown Hill Country criminal gang were beginning to make news all around the country. By the time they were captured (after a $3 million train robbery near Chicago in 1924), the “Newton Boys” had netted more loot than the James Gang, the Dalton Boys and Butch Cassidy combined. During that time, they had never killed anyone, and (in their rare daytime crimes) were famous for the courtesy with which they treated their victims. Most of what is known about the Newton Boys comes from a book written by Claude Stanush and David Middleton, who interviewed Willis and Joe extensively in 1973. Most of this article is based on that book, The Newton Boys: Portrait of an Outlaw Gang. (Editor’s note: while the Newtons were very open and candid about their adventures, Willis, especially, tended to see the world from his own unique point of view; his accounts may be a little biased.)
Willis Newton (sixth of eleven children) was definitely the ringleader of the gang. A very intelligent, daring and imaginative man with a huge “chip on his shoulder,” Willis’ whole life seemed to have been training for this role.
Jess was a fun-loving, charming and irresponsible man, two years older than Willis, who had earned a reputation as a bronc-buster in his youth, and had traveled with Booger Red’s Wild West show for several years.
Doc (whose real name was Wylie) was a big, strong, fearless man with little common sense. Willis blamed a bite from a rabid wolf for Doc’s thoughtless behavior.
And Joe, the baby of the family, was a good-hearted, friendly charmer who really just wanted to be a cowboy, but followed his older brothers despite his more tender conscience.
Their parents were Jim Newton, a hard-working but undependable farmer from Arkansas (who had a tendency to drink and gamble whenever he had money) and Janetta Pecos Anderson, daughter of a rugged widow woman who ran a cattle business in Brown County. When Willis was young, his mother read him stories of famous outlaws, and confessed that “if I’d been a man, I would have been an outlaw, too.” (A few years later, after two of her children had died, she started reading the Bible. It was too late for Willis; the outlaws became his heroes.)
Jim Newton was what locals called a “cyclone farmer,” because “he blew all over the country.” The family was near Cottonwood, in Callahan County, when Willis was born. After stints in Scurry County and Sweetwater, Newton came back to Cottonwood and bought a gin (“he was the best gin man in the whole country,” Willis said later) in 1894. At the age of 5, Willis went to work “raking cotton” at his father’s gin.
When Willis was 7, Jim Newton’s father died, and he took Willis and Doc with him to Arkansas for the funeral and a family reunion. It was there that Willis learned to shoot squirrels with the ancient family shotgun. It was also there that he got his first lesson in evading the law.
Jim Newton’s younger brother, “Uncle Henry,” was wanted for stabbing a man in a fight some fifteen years before. He had fled to west Texas, and the family reunion was the first time he had come back to Arkansas. The family got word that the sheriff was waiting at the train station to arrest Henry when he left, so the family contrived an elaborate ruse to fool the sheriff, and sent Henry across the countryside to catch the train at a different station.
Willis returned from Arkansas with a single-shot .22 rifle, and soon became an expert shot. That came in handy because they lost money farming in northern Callahan County that year, and had to live on fish and rabbits. Willis learned a little there about mob rule and crooked landlords, and his distrust of authority became firmly entrenched.
When Willis was nine years old, he accidentally dropped a sharp hatchet, and severed his Achilles tendon. The only treatment they knew was to put turpentine and sugar on the wound. While he eventually regained use of his foot, the injury caused his foot and lower leg to shrivel so that he wore his right shoe a size-and-a-half smaller than his left.
When Willis was ten, an older sister and an older brother died the same year. That was the year that his mother started reading her Bible, and that was the year she started really worrying about Willis.
When he was twelve years old, Willis decided that he was going to “learn his ABCs.” They were only two miles away from the school, so he would start walking early each morning. He had no shoes, but his mother had made him a shirt and some pants, and a neighbor had given him a coat that her son had outgrown. Willis didn’t have any food to bring with him for lunch, so he would hide in the woods at lunch hour and pretend that he had gone home to eat. He played baseball in the afternoons that year, and became the team’s star shortstop.
Within two weeks, he had learned everything in the first-grade reader, and during that year, he passed second, third and fourth grade. Other students would ask him for help with their homework. But by spring, the seat of his pants had become so badly unraveled (despite his mother’s constant mending), that he quit school. “I was ashamed to wear those ravelly pants,” he recalled later.
Willis was always a hard worker (and the fastest cotton-picker around) when he was working, but he often would try to escape work. Sometimes the escape was made by hopping on a train. He and a few friends traveled central Texas extensively during his teen years. “The brakemen were mean,” he said years later, recalling one time when he and a friend got their revenge by pushing the brakeman off the train at 30 miles per hour. “He was doing summer-sets, over and over and over,” Willis recalled proudly.
He had been gone from home for a few months in 1903 (he was 14 then; Joe was just 2), when he came home to find that Jess was in jail. He had been arrested after a fight, and was working off his $20 fine at 50 cents a day. “They had a deputy guarding him, and the deputy was getting paid $3 a day!” Willis said disgustedly. Each experience with “the law” (and there were plenty!) just reinforced Willis’s distaste.
Jim Newton bought 160 acres near Putnam in the fall of 1903, and built a 14’ x 28’ one-room house of 2x12 lumber there. The family stayed there until 1906 – the longest they ever lived anywhere. After an altercation with the infamous “Uncle Henry,” Willis was shot in the foot while running from the Callahan County sheriff. The family moved to Uvalde County on New Year’s Day in 1907.
That was the year that Jess started working for Booger Red’s Wild West Show. It was also the year that Doc was bitten by a rabid wolf. Even though he recovered after the “needles-in–the-stomach” treatment, Willis always claimed that the incident had cost Doc his ability to use good sense. Later that year, Doc got drunk and accidentally shot his boss in the arm. Doc and Willis were both arrested for carrying an illegal handgun (though Willis always swore he hadn’t had one), and their outlaw careers began in earnest.
Willis engineered an escape before the two were actually locked up, but Doc was recaptured and put in jail for two months before Willis broke into the jail and freed him. A few days later, both were caught, and served 93 days in jail that year.
In 1908, Willis picked cotton and earned $200, but Doc stole a wagonload of cotton and both were arrested again. This time they were sent to the state penitentiary. Willis (who by this time was well known among the criminal underworld as “Skinny” Newton) escaped again after 11 months, but was re-arrested and held until 1914. By that time his parents had separated, and his mother was able to get a pardon for Willis by claiming that she needed his support to keep the family alive.
Willis was eager to support his mother (who was living in Crystal City, south of Uvalde), but not in the manner she had hoped for. He and a friend broke into a gun shop in Uvalde and got enough firepower to rob a train. The haul was $4,700; it was the most money either of them had ever seen. They were never suspected in the train robbery, but Willis had to leave town after he got into fight and bit off a man’s finger!
The hard years of Willis’s childhood paid off in many ways. He knew the countryside, he knew hundreds of people, including all the criminal class, and he could live off the land whenever he needed to. He also had developed an uncanny sense of impending danger and was a very keen observer of everything going on around him.
He and a friend named O.C. Wells were drifting around near San Angelo, sometimes picking cotton, sometimes not, when they were arrested for a bank robbery and murder that had been committed in Marble Falls. Willis recalled, “I had been picking cotton in Bronte with fifty other people the day that boy was killed. I cashed a check at the bank that day. That’s 350 miles from Marble Falls, and I didn’t have no automobile, either.”
The pair spent six weeks in jail in Austin before they were brought to Burnet County for trial. It was January of 1917; the crime had shocked Burnet County, and emotion ran high. The whole town turned out to see the “desperate criminals” who they believed had killed the bank teller in cold blood. The TexasRangers protected the unfortunate pair from the mob, but twenty-five Marble Falls residents positively identified them (and they had been found carrying gold coins similar to those stolen from the bank). Despite their solid alibis, the grand jury indicted them for first-degree murder.
Their lives were spared by the conscience of a Lampasas girl, who knew that her brother had been one of the real robbers. When she came forward, the Rangers finally looked at the evidence, and Willis and O.C. were acquitted. But when a friend asked Willis to join him in a bank robbery, Willis said “Why not? I’ve been accused of robbing them all over Texas, and I never robbed one yet.” Around that time, O.C. Wells was accused (falsely again, according to Willis) of a storekeeper’s murder in Coleman, a crime for which he was eventually electrocuted.
The gang of four was able to successfully rob a bank in Winters, Texas, but lawmen tracked them down and one of the four was killed in the ensuing gunfight. Willis managed to stay out of sight, and was never suspected of his role in the robbery. A new gang formed; it broke up after a few robberies, but Willis had learned what he needed to start a gang of his own.
His little brother, Joe, was the first recruit. Willis knew that Joe would not be eager to rob banks, so he sent a letter saying that he had found Joe a job in Tulsa. Joe assumed his job would be in the cattle business, and arrived carrying his saddle! The next recruit was an outsider, an explosives expert named John Glasscock, who was also an exceptional get-away driver and mechanic. Doc, who had been at Huntsville for one of his many crimes, grabbed a guard’s shotgun and forced him to release two or three hundred prisoners before Doc himself escaped on the guard’s horse. The incident made headlines all over Texas, and doc was only too eager to join his brothers in Tulsa. Jess, who had been working for the father of future governor Dolph Briscoe, joined the gang just before the sensational bank robbery in Hondo (at beginning of story).
Willis was the “sparkplug” and the brains of the operation. He traveled the Midwest during the summer, looking for banks that would be easy to rob (the gang did not work during the summer, when people were outside all hours of the night). They would start up north in the fall, when nights were longer and the cold kept people indoors, then drift toward the San Antonio area during the winter. As the weather began to get warmer, they would turn north for a couple more months of banditry. Their modus operandi was to find a smalltown bank with the right type of safe, plan an escape route, watch the bank personnel for a few days, then cut all telephone lines so that an alarm could not be sounded. If there was a night watchman, they would hold him at gunpoint until the robbery was over. They would break into the bank, blow the door off the vault, and take whatever they could find inside. They never traveled together, and took pains to dress differently, use different names and to stay “below the radar.” Their story for their casual acquaintances in various towns was that they had discovered oil on their farm in Oklahoma.
Willis, who had quit school because of his poor clothing all those years ago, now dressed like an urban sophisticate (but when it came time to work, he was the one who shinnied up the poles “like a squirrel” to cut the telephone wires). He soon learned (from Glasscock) how to blow the doors off the vaults with nitroglycerin, and it was he who made sure they took everything valuable and nothing traceable from the banks. He also used his connections to sell jewelry, bonds and negotiable securities on the black market, and it was he who divided the take among the gang members. They all drove new Studebakers, which they found to be cheap, tough and fast, with dependable Goodyear tires. They traded in their cars about twice a year to make sure their rides were in good shape.
Although the gang carried out approximately seventy bank robberies, they took care to space them widely (several were in Canada; others were in Michigan, Indiana, Missouri, Iowa , Oklahoma, Colorado and Texas) and no one ever connected the robberies or suspected the Newtons. Often, Willis would get information on an easy mark from a local criminal, who then wanted in on the action. Two of these tipsters, who were not as professional (or as lucky) as the Newtons, were shot and killed during gunfights that followed the robberies – one in Gallatin, Missouri, and one in Tab, Indiana. The Newtons themselves survived a big scare when they robbed the Toronto Currency Clearing House in downtown broad daylight, and got into a gunfight with a few dozen guards. Somehow, they managed once again to escape.
Jess and Doc tended to waste a lot their money partying, but all of them had legitimate investments, and Willis and Joe had saved quite lot of money. Willis had always dreamed of being an oilman, and he talked Joe into investing all his savings in oil leases. The business failed, and Willis started looking around for a “million dollar job.”
It wasn’t long before a contact put him in touch with the wife of a corrupt postal inspector, and Willis started planning a train robbery which turned out to be the biggest in history. They stopped the train, which was carrying three million dollars in registered mail sacks, at a small town northwest of Chicago, called Rondout. The plan seemed to be working with only small glitches, until Glasscock mistook Doc for a guard, and shot him four times. The Newtons loaded up the money and escaped but Willis and Joe were arrested with the badly-injured Doc when they tried to find him medical help. Jess managed to escape with $35,000, but buried the money near San Antonio while he was drunk, and never could remember where it was. He hid out in Mexico for a while, but Texas Rangers lured him back across the border and arrested him.
The long ride was over; the nationwide publicity prevented the Newtons from bribing their way to freedom, and the attention they received led investigators back to many of their other crimes. All four brothers went to Leavenworth for the train robbery, but their sentences were lenient because they returned most of the loot. Jess, who charmed the press and the jury during his trial, received a one-year sentence and served only nine months. He returned to Texas, and worked on ranches around Uvalde until shortly before he died of lung cancer in 1960. Joe got a three-year sentence, but was let off for good behavior after only one year. He ran a butcher shop and a drive-in in Uvalde, then farmed some in Oklahoma. Glasscock and Willis each served four years and two months of a twelve-year sentence, but Doc had to serve six years, because the State of Texas had a “hold” on him for his “great escape” incident in 1920. Much of his sentence was spent in the hospital, recovering from his wounds, but he lived another forty-odd years of intermittent crime before he died in 1974.
Willis never was repentant, and had several brushes with the law while running a nightclub in Tulsa after his release. Joe was repentant, and tried to go straight, working on a ranch near Uvalde for $35 a month. They were convicted (falsely, they both claimed) for an Oklahoma bank robbery in the mid-thirties, and sentenced to 20 years each. Willis served seven-and-a-half years; Joe served ten. After that, they retired to Uvalde, where Willis continued his brushes with the law, but Joe was universally loved. Joe would ride his horse, Old Paint, in all the local parades; the pair also served as extras in several movies. In the 1955 Alamo movie, called The Last Command, Joe played both a Mexican lancer charging the Alamo, and one of the Texans defending against the charge!
Former Uvalde County sheriff Kenneth Kelley remembers the Newton brothers very well. He had come to Uvalde after World War II and was working at a service station in 1948, when Willis Newton drove in and asked Kelley to check the air in his tires. When Newton opened the trunk to let Kelley put air in the spare tire, Kelley saw a “big tub of silver dollars.” That chance meeting was the beginning of a long (and even friendly) acquaintance between the bank robber and the eventual sheriff.
Soon after Kelley took a job with the Uvalde Police Department in the mid-1950s, they got a “call from one of the beer joints. Willis had hit someone with a pistol.” They found the pistol hidden in Newton’s truck, and took him to jail. “He was raising cain and cussing at us so much, we had to call Jess to come in and calm him down,” Kelley recalls.
Another time, Willis called the sheriff’s office to report that a large diamond had been stolen from him. It turned out that his nephew, Frank Brandt, had stolen the diamond and taken it to Oklahoma. Willis didn’t waste any time; just a short while later, he and a friend were arrested for kidnapping. With bandannas covering their faces, they had taken Brandt at gunpoint and chained him up in the back seat of the car. “I was taking a statement from him,” Willis explained to the police.
In 1968, Doc was arrested with one of his friends, R.C. Talley, for breaking into a bank in Rowena, Texas. He was 77 at the time, and Willis believed he was really trying to break into the gun shop next door, which he thought was connected by an interior door. The police who responded to the alarm did far more damage to the bank than the two old men had done, riddling the building with machine-gun bullets and smashing all the windows.
Sheriff Kelley got a call from the Texas Rangers that night, asking him if he knew where Willis Newton had been (it seems that there had been a getaway driver at the bank, but he had escaped). The sheriff went over to Newton’s house, but no one was home. A little while later he got a call from Willis Newton. “Is anyone looking for me?” Newton asked, “What’s this about a bank robbery? I’m in Laredo.” When Sheriff Kelley explained that the FBI would like to talk to him, Willis agreed, but only on condition that Sheriff Kelley would come with him. “Why he liked me, I don’t know,” Kelley says. “I helped put him in jail twice.”
Willis Newton always seemed to have plenty of money, and Sheriff Kelley is convinced that he never gave up his life of crime. “He apparently had people all over the country,” Kelley says. “He’d case the joint, and a few days later it would get robbed.” His wife, however, recalls that just a couple of years before Willis died, he knocked on their door and asked to borrow a small electric heater to keep from freezing. “He didn’t have much money then,” she says.
A documentary movie of the Newton Boys’ lives was made in 1976, and Willis and Joe became celebrities once again. People magazine did a two-page story in their September, 1976 issue, and Joe was invited (to his great delight) to appear on the Johnny Carson Show. Willis died in 1979, at age 90.
When Joe got too old to ride Old Paint in the parade, he would ride on a hay-bale in the back of a pickup truck. The shouts and cheers of the crowd attested to his popularity in Uvalde, Texas. He died in 1989, a month after his eighty-eighth birthday.
When director Richard Linklater was making his 1998 movie, Sheriff Kelley was one of his consultants. The movie takes some liberties with the details, but does a pretty good job of telling the story. Willis Newton is played by Matthew McConaughey; Joe is played by Skeet Ulrich, Jess by Ethan Hawke, Doc by Vincent D’Onofrio and Glasscock by Dwight Yoakum. Some of the filming was done in Bertram, where the movie’s “Omaha Hotel” is now the Bertram Smoke Haus BBQ Restaurant. The movie is available at most video stores.
The Newton Boys were not good role models, but, as Willis always said, they were not just thugs. They never killed anyone, and they had a sort of Robin Hood appeal as they outwitted authorities for years. We have mixed feelings (but great interest) about the lives of the Hill Country’s all-time greatest outlaws.
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!
About 2 years ago, during deer season I spent several weekends hunting with my dad and brother at our deer lease in the Texas Hill Country. Hunting is one of my favorite activities to do with my dad and brother. This particular year, had been really challenging. It had been a dry year and we had not seen many deer on the 1800 acre lease. We had tried several different locations with absolutely no luck. We knew that there were several deer in the area because of the pictures on our game camera. There was one big old buck that we had seen in pictures at several different feeders. Other hunters on the lease also had pictures of this big guy and everyone was waiting to get a chance to harvest him.
As usual, I was hunting with my dad. It was early one cold morning. We were sitting in the Windmill Blind, our hunting blind which was located near the ranch windmill. Like always, my dad was asleep and I was watching for deer. I saw a deer walk out of the brush. I knew it was a buck, but to my amazement, it was the big guy! I watched him walk between two bushes and under the feeder. "Dad, there he is," I whispered excitedly. My dad nearly fell off of the chair when he woke up!
Dad told me to get my rifle ready and wait for him to broadside. This means he needed to turn his side towards us. I looked at my dad and I whispered, "No, you're taking this one!" Dad told me, "No, this one's for you to take." I explained to dad that he had been working hard all season, putting up new blinds, filling feeders, and just driving my brother and me three hours from home to hunt for several weekends, and he had not shot a deer on this lease. It was his turn to shoot one. Dad whispered, "he's not going to stay there for long. One of us needs to take a shot now." I told him to go ahead and do it!
I put my gun on safety, put it down in the corner, picked up the binoculars, and anxiously waited for my dad to take the shot. The deer turned broadside. Dad took careful aim and the morning silence was shattered with the boom of 25.06 rifle, ka ka booom, booom, boom, echoing through the canyon. The big guy was down.
After several high fives and a hug, I shouted, "You got him, Dad! You got him!" We waited a few minutes and carefully walked down to where he fell. It was then that we noticed he was even larger than we thought he would be based on the pictures. We also then saw by the wounds and scars on his neck and body that he had been a real fighter and probably one of the oldest deer in the area. He was a large Hill Country ten point Whitetail buck.
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SPANIARDS EXPLORE TEXAS |
CORONADO SEARCHES FOR GOLDEN CITIES
Compostela, 1542. The great expedition led northward from this city two years ago by Governor Francisco Vasquez de Coronado has returned. The expedition set out for the purpose of capturing Cibola and other golden cities, but, sad to relate, no golden cities were found. The people of Cibola had meat and beans and corn, but no gold.
Following the disappointment at Cibola, the expedition moved on to the plains of Texas in search of a golden city named Quivira. The Spaniards found and captured this city, but again they found no gold. Although the Coronado expedition has added greatly to the knowledge of the lands to the north, failure to find gold in that area has considerably lessened interest in these lands. It seems that the area offers nothing but land, and there is plenty of that in Mexico.
According to widespread rumors, Coronado will be removed from his office as governor of Nueva Galicia because of his failure to find gold. It would appear that the leader will pay a high price for his effort to serve Spain. Physically exhausted from the rigors of his journey, he is also suffering greatly from a head wound received in a fall from a horse. Loss of his office will be still another severe blow.
SPANIARDS VISIT EAST TEXAS
Caddo Indian Village, 1542. A group of Spaniards under the command of a man named Moscoso has recently visited this village.
Survivors of an expedition led westward from Florida by a great captain named Hernando de Soto, the Spaniards came to seek gold as well as knowledge of the lands claimed by Spain. Unsuccessful in their search for gold, they did learn a great deal about the geography of the country. De Soto died after the expedition had crossed the Mississippi River. After burying him in the waters of that great river, his followers set out for Mexico under Moscoso's leadership.
The Spaniards traveled to central Texas before deciding that the distance was too great to travel on foot. When they passed through this settlement, they were returning to the Mississippi River. When they reach it, they plan to build boats and sail down the river and across the Gulf to Mexico.
PINEDA VISITS TEXAS COAST
Vera Cruz, 1519. A small vessel commanded by Alvarez de Pineda has reached this port after following the coast line all the way from Florida. Pineda named the area which he explored Amichel.
Christopher Columbus died in Val-ladolid, Spain, on May 21, 1506, still believing that he had discovered outlying parts of Asia. Even as early as 1493, however, experts felt certain that the Genoese explorer had actually discovered a new world.
In the fifty years since Columbus made his first great voyage, Europeans have learned much of that New World. Many Spaniards have settled in Mexico, and great areas in other parts of America have been explored. The invaders have visited Texas, though as yet they have established no colonies here. Bulletins received by this paper since 1492 tell an interesting story.
EXPEDITION SEEKS CIBOLA
Mexico City, 1540. According to dispatches just received here, the Coronado Expedition, which set out from Compostela last February in search of the fabled seven golden cities, is now nearing Cibola, the first of these cities. The men are reported to be anxiously awaiting the opportunity to capture Cibola.
The expedition was organized after the viceroy heard the report of Friar Marcos de Niza, whom the viceroy sent to investigate the lands to the north in 1539. The report of Cabeza de Vaca that the Indians had told him of golden cities there had aroused great interest. Accompanied by Stephen, the Moor who crossed Texas with Cabeza de Vaca, Friar Marcos left Culia-can to seek the fabled cities. The good father learned from the Indians that there were seven golden cities, the first of them Cibola.
When Friar Marcos and the Moor reached Cibola, Stephen entered the city and was killed. Friar Marcos contented himself with gazing upon the city from a distance. Other Indians told him that the people of Cibola dressed in clothing made of cotton and buffalo hides and decorated the walls of their houses with turquoises. They had so much gold and silver that they used no other metals.
After receiving this report, the viceroy chose Francisco Vasquez de Coronado, governor of Nueva Galicia, to lead an expedition to capture this great wealth for the King. When the expedition set out, Coronado, his gold-plated armor shining brightly in the sun, rode at the head of 250 armored horsemen. In addition, Friar Marcos and several other churchmen, seventy foot soldiers, and several hundred Negro and Indian servants accompanied the expedition.
CORTES DEFEATS AZTECS, OCCUPIES MEXICO
Mexico City, 1522. Only three years after he landed in this country, Hernando Cortes has completed its subjugation.
As soon as possible after the first voyage of Columbus to the New World, Spain established settlements in the West Indies. Within a few years, thousands of Spaniards were living in the islands. Cortes was one of the first to plan an expedition to the mainland.
Even though he brought only six hundred men with him when he came to Mexico in 1519, Cortes had little trouble in defeating the Indians he met here. The Aztecs, the most highly civilized Indian tribe in Mexico, were no match for the Spaniards, for the guns of the invaders brought quick death, while the Indians' arrows were useless against the heavy armor worn by the Spaniards. Also, the Spaniards brought horses with them. These strange animals, which the Indians had never seen before, frightened the red men out of their wits. Many Indians, believing the invaders to be god-men of some sort, joined them instead of resisting their advance across the country.
The Spaniards became greatly excited when they found large quantities of gold and silver in Mexico. Searching for more gold, they soon explored much of the region near Mexico City. Many Spaniards who followed Cortes to Mexico came as settlers, to establish farms or engage in some form of trade. As a result, some Spanish settlements already exist in this country.
CABEZA DE VACA TRAVELS ACROSS TEXAS
Mexico City, 1536. The arrival in this city of Cabeza de Vaca and several companions has greatly increased interest in the lands to the north.
These men are survivors of the ill-fated Narvaez expedition, many members of which were shipwrecked along the Texas coast in 1528. Cabeza de Vaca, leader of the four survivors, spent six years in the Galveston area before making his escape. On his way to Mexico he was joined by Alonso del Castillo, Andres Dorantes, and a Moor named Stephen. They know of no other survivors of the Narvaez expedition.
Cabeza de Vaca describes much of the country through which they wandered as a great plain on which graze thousands of large cows. Indians told the Spaniards that great quantities of gold could be found in certain parts of the country, although Cabeza de Vaca did not actually see any. His report has made many Spaniards eager to visit the lands to the north in search of this gold.
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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.
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 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.
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).