A Few Things About The Old West You May Not Know

Mention the Old West, and most people have certain images which come to mind. Among the most popular images are those of cowboys, horses, cattle rustlers, lawmen, outlaws, gunfights, deserts, mining camps, gold, prairies, and mountains. And while many of these images are historically accurate, they have also been slightly twisted by Hollywood movies. Some images, however, are more movies than reality. Take, for example, a few other images which conjure up the Old West, those being whiskey, saloons, and poker. These images are accurate too, but probably not in the way most people think. And, there is no doubt that the public perception with regard to these images is far more driven by celluloid than the truth.

In the movies we’re used to seeing a man push open the swinging doors of an ornately decorated and large clean saloon, belly up to the bar, and order a whiskey. As someone plays a piano in the corner, with dancing girls swirling around, the bartender takes out a clean bottle of bourbon, and fills a shot glass which is quickly consumed. The man then throws down a gold coin, and takes his bottle to one of the many gaming tables, and gets involved in a game of poker. The poker game then ends in a shootout, with dead bodies strewn about the floor. We’ve watched this scene a hundred times, if we’ve seen it once. The problem is that it’s not always an accurate or typical portrayal of the way it really was, so let me point out a few things about the Old West you may not know.

Until the Old West got a little more sophisticated in the late 1800’s, due primarily to the great wealth created by railroads, mining camps, and, cattle towns, most saloons were not large, not very ornate, nor were they very tidy. Floors were often covered with sawdust, which absorbed everything from tobacco juice, blood, beer, and liquor, as well as holding down other displeasing odors associated with saloons of the time period. Not the least of these odors was caused by vomit, deposited on the floor after drunken patrons of the saloon “aired their paunches.” Likewise, instead of a jingling piano, it was probably just as common to see a barber chair in the corner of a saloon. The saloon’s management, by providing barber services, encouraged self-professed religious men with a respectable cover story of why they’d been seen entering a saloon. And, after a haircut and shave, if these men just happened to find themselves having a few drinks at the bar, no one would be the wiser.

The saloon district in Austin, Texas was a place called “Guy Town.” And, the saloons in Guy Town were typical of those found in any city of similar size in the West during the mid to late 1800’s. One difference, perhaps, was that the saloons in Austin catered to some very influential clientele, given the fact that the Texas State Capitol was located in the city. State legislators, and other government officials, joined the common folk in enjoying the whiskey, woman, music, and gambling the saloons in Guy Town offered.

Dropping a coin or two on the bar is another lasting image of the Old West, but drinks in the saloons were often purchased with gold dust instead of coins. This allowed the enterprising bartender to steal from the saloon’s owners by using various techniques to keep a little gold dust for himself. One such technique involved using his head, so to speak. Before starting his shift, the unscrupulous bartender would rub grease or liniment in his hair. After taking the gold dust in payment, there would always be a little of it left on his fingers and beneath his finger nails. The bartender would then nonchalantly rub his hand through his sticky hair. Later he would wash the gold from his hair, and by doing so, supplement his income nicely.

The image of men sitting around a table playing poker is nearly synonymous with the Old West. But most saloons of the time period, especially in the early years, were relatively small, and only had room for a couple of gaming tables. Contrary to popular belief, poker, while played, was not the most popular game of the time period, and, in fact, prior to the early 1870’s, was rarely played at all. There was another card game which was far more popular, and because it has vanished from the gambling scene so completely, relatively few people today, including gamblers, have ever heard of it. Faro was the name of the game, and those who played were called “punters.” The game of faro was played on a table, and required special equipment which facilitated the game. As such, faro dealers made their money by traveling around the West with their gambling equipment, and setting up shop wherever they could. These dealers often rented space on a saloon floor, and, in return, gave a percentage of their winnings to the owner of the saloon. Unlike a poker game, in which each person playing banked their own game, and either won or lost according to the extent of their “investment,” in the game of faro, the game needed a financial backer, and the dealer himself staked his personal fortune as the faro bank. Punters playing faro were said to be “bucking the tiger,” and, because the game was easy to play, and, when played fairly, provided nearly the same odds to both the dealers and players, it was extremely popular. Because these even odds meant a lower take for the saloon, many dealers began cheating, and faro soon fell into disrepute.

Many famous names of the Old West were faro dealers at one time or another, including Wyatt Earp, "Doc" Holliday, and Bat Masterson. In the Texas Hill Country, Austin’s own Ben Thompson owned several gaming concessions around the city, including the faro operation directly above the well-known Iron Front Saloon, which was located on the corner of Sixth and Congress. Ben Thompson, in addition to being a gambler and saloon owner, was a prolific killer, gunfighter, and, at one time, held the position of City Marshal of Austin. Thompson had honed his faro skills in various places around the West, including Abilene, Kansas, and he made a lot of money running faro games in his Austin gambling establishments.

Another popular misconception of the Old West involves whiskey. As mentioned earlier, movies have often portrayed bartenders pulling clean bottles filled with bourbon out from behind the bar. While it is true, that good bourbon was available throughout the West at certain times and in certain places, it is truer still that the whiskey often served was some very bad stuff indeed. Called “Tarantula Juice,” “Coffin Varnish,” and “Stagger Soup,” the concoctions sold as whiskey were often made with cheap raw watered-down alcohol, and colored to look like whiskey with whatever was locally available, including, old shoes, tobacco, molasses, or burnt sugar. These whiskies were frequently given an extra “kick” by adding red peppers or, extra “flavor” by adding other things, like snake heads, which tainted the liquid. Now you understand what the cowboys, as portrayed in the movies, meant when they asked the bartender for a bottle of “your best whiskey.” They were asking for a bottle of real whiskey distilled in a place somewhere in the Eastern United States, like Kentucky, or, Pennsylvania.

It is interesting to note that the best whiskey from out East, in a lot of saloons, meant rye whiskey, not bourbon. Rye was just as popular, if not more popular, as bourbon in those days. The popularity of rye whiskey has declined significantly since the days of the Old West, but unlike the game of faro, it never disappeared entirely, except, perhaps, during prohibition. And, unlike faro, there has been a comeback of late in the enjoyment of rye whiskey, with some new brands appearing on the shelves of liquor stores. One brand, however, which was around back in the West, is still being sold today, and that brand is Old Overholt. The rye whiskies produced by the Overholt Family go back to around 1810, and were widely available in the West. In fact, Old Overholt was reputably the favorite whiskey of the famous gambler and gunman, “Doc” Holliday, who was no slouch when it came to appreciating the finer things in life, including a good whiskey.

Hollywood has portrayed violent confrontations with armed cowboys in saloons in hundreds of movies over the years. Usually, following an argument over a card game, the guns come out, and within a few seconds, men lay dead on a saloon floor, or stumble out into the street to die. There were, in fact, many shootings which actually did take place in saloons and which cost the lives of many men, including, some well-known characters from the Old West. “Wild Bill” Hickok, Morgan Earp, and Warren Earp, were just a few of the famous men who died from gunplay in saloons. Several legendary Texans also died by gunfire in saloons. Ben Thompson and John King Fisher were both ambushed and killed in San Antonio’s Vaudeville Theatre and Saloon in March of 1884, and the notorious killer, John Wesley Hardin, was murdered in El Paso’s Acme Saloon in 1895.

Despite the reality that guns were indeed drawn and fired in Old West saloons, there is another reality which is seldom portrayed in the movies. Many towns, while not prohibiting weapons outright, did require guns be checked in with the law, behind the bar in a saloon, or, perhaps at a hotel or rooming house. But the requirement to check weapons did not do away with the gun violence entirely, as some men merely chose to conceal their weapons. For example, the famous outlaw, Sam Bass, was shot up and died in Round Rock, a town on the eastern edge of the Texas Hill Country, after refusing to surrender his concealed pistol in a general store.  The local gun laws throughout the West did, however, help to hold down the number of shootings in saloons, where the whiskey flowed freely, and heated arguments over gambling and women were commonplace.

History, as we perceive it, is an interesting thing, because what we believe to be true about history probably isn’t, since the fact and the fiction have become so intertwined. Nowhere is this more true than when observing the popular public perception of the Old West. In the end, the perception is what it is, and will be what it will be, but, hopefully, you’ve learned a few things you may not have known before about this fascinating period of American history.

Remembering The Texas Hill Country’s Favorite Son

Thirty-eight years ago yesterday, on January 22, 1973, Lyndon Baines Johnson, suffered a heart attack and died at his ranch in the Texas Hill Country. His life is so intertwined with his beloved Hill Country that it is impossible to consider his life, his accomplishments, and his failures, without understanding the impact the hill country had upon him. During his lifetime, Johnson left his historical mark on the United States, and the world, but to a very real extent, he never really left the hill country, nor, did the things he experienced in the hill country, ever leave him. As a result, he enjoyed great political triumphs, but, also, tragedy and failure.

Born along the banks of the Pedernales River, Johnson rose from a poor and humble beginning, to become one of the most powerful men in American politics, first as a United States Senator, then Senate Majority Leader, later Vice-President, and finally, as President of the United States. Growing up in the hill country, he learned to respect both the land, and its people. He once said, that the Texas Hill Country was a place “where they know when you’re sick and they care when you die.” The people Johnson was referring to knew and cared, because the hill country can be a difficult place to live. The weather is temperamental, and vacillates between bringing extreme drought and a widespread flooding. The people who have historically lived in the hill country have been a tough lot, learning how to adapt and prosper in the difficult environment, despite many hardships. They’ve always believed that with the proper focus, hard work, and cooperation with their neighbors, there was no problem which could not be solved. This belief was fundamental to the person Lyndon Johnson became as an adult, and how he viewed the entire world for most of the rest of his life.

As Johnson’s career progressed, he used his increasing political power to solve real problems, and this only reinforced his view, that all problems, given the right attention, could be resolved. Early in his career, Johnson was responsible for bringing both electricity and flood control to the hill country, and in so doing, eliminated a lot of suffering among his constituents. Later, as President, he used his strong personality and political power to get legislation passed which became the foundation of his “Great Society.” Most notably, among the many pieces of legislation, was the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Many of the laws Johnson spearheaded as President are still controversial today among some people, but they remain an important part of who we are. The implementation of the Great Society emanates from what Johnson learned in the hill country. That being that any problem can be solved, despite its complexity, through personal attention, hard work, and cooperation with one’s neighbors, in this case, the U.S. Congress. The Great Society was Johnson’s greatest political success, and has left a lasting positive impression on the United States.

Unfortunately, the benefits of the Great Society are often forgotten, especially among many members of my generation, because of the war in Vietnam. The tragedy of Vietnam was perpetuated, in large part, because Johnson failed to understand that the things he learned in the hill country about problem solving, did not work with respect to Vietnam. Johnson found out, albeit painfully, that giving his personal attention, and micromanagement to domestic legislation, was a far different matter than micromanaging a foreign war. When Johnson personally selected bombing targets in Vietnam, he deprived his commanders on the ground of their natural prerogative to do so. As a result, with the war being managed by Washington, a schism developed between those who were fighting the war in Vietnam, and those who were controlling it. Likewise, the United States had few military allies, and little international support during the war, so, cooperation with any “neighbors” to help Johnson “win” the war was never a real possibility.

As the war dragged on, Johnson only applied more of what he had learned about problem solving during his youth, and, as a result, the dying was prolonged and the United States was torn apart by civil unrest. The Vietnam War became Johnson’s greatest tragedy, and his biggest failure. Thirty-eight years ago, on this very day, January 23, 1973, a peace agreement was announced, but it came one day too late for Johnson, who had died the previous day.

Johnson once said, “I hope it may be said a hundred years from now, that by working together we helped to make our country more just, more just for all its people, as well as to insure and guarantee the blessings of liberty for all of our posterity. That is what I hope. But I believe that at least it will be said that we tried.”

The places where Lyndon Johnson was born, first attended school, learned about life, implemented historic legislation, directed the war, died, and is buried are all within walking distance of one other on a relatively small strip of land along the banks of the hill country’s Pedernales River. Whatever anyone thinks of what he did, or, how he did it, there is no denying that he left his mark on the world, and also, that he is without a doubt, the Texas Hill Country’s favorite son.

Christmas Eve 2010 In The Texas Hill Country

As it has a habit of doing from time to time during the winter months, a cold front blew into the Texas Hill Country today, just in time to get everyone into the Christmas spirit. Although the morning temperature today was still in the 50’s, the rain made it feel much colder. And, on a day like this, most everyone in the hill country should take on an even greater understanding and appreciation of the hardships the Native Americans, Spanish explorers, and early settlers of the hill country faced when the weather turned cold. Actually, one does not even have to go back that far in time, as hill country folk did not even begin to receive electricity until the 1930’s, when the hill country’s favorite son, Lyndon Johnson, made it a reality.

Christmas Eve in the Texas Hill Country is no different than a lot of places around the country I guess, given the ample supply of shopping and outlet malls which cater to the last minute Christmas shopping "insanity" which seems to strike so many people this time of year. But unlike a lot of places, the hill country provides an alternative, should you choose to seek it.

My dog and I headed out into the remote solitude of the hill country this morning in an attempt to distance ourselves from cash registers, blinking lights, wrapping paper, and frenzied people. The cold and rain did not deter us in our quest to avoid the very worst things the holiday season brings, those being, commercialization, greed, the exchange of money, and stressed-out families. Except for the ever-present deer and birds found in the hill country, we did not run into another living thing on our journey, and that, to me, made for a successful day. It was, as it should be.

The quiet solitude of the hill country, the cold rain, and the companionship of my dog, gave me time to slow down, and reflect on the meaning of Christmas one day in advance of the day itself. Instead of last minute scurrying about and standing in long lines waiting to purchase something for someone that will no doubt be forgotten by noon on Christmas; I did something far more important. I took a few hours on the day before Christmas to find a quiet place in these historic hills to truly think about why Christmas Day is celebrated, and what it means for all of us.

PEACE.

Austin’s Underappreciated Attraction

With all the things to see and do in Austin, Texas, it is understandable that some attractions are a little more popular than others. The Texas State Capitol Building, Sixth Street, Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Zilker Park, and Barton Springs Pool are but just a few of the many sites representative of the city. These great sites, along with hundreds of wonderful places to eat, command the attention of both visitors and locals alike all year long. There is one attraction however, which never seems to show up on any “Top 10 Things to See and Do in Austin” list. And, that’s unfortunate, because it truly is one of Austin’s best kept secrets.

One day last week, I headed over to one of the oldest active military facilities in Texas, Camp Mabry, to see the BG John C.L. Scribner Texas Military Forces Museum. The camp was established in Austin in the 1890’s, and named for Brigadier General Woodford Mabry, who was then the Adjutant General of Texas. Soon after the camp was established, he left his post as Adjutant General, to fight in the Spanish-American War. And, although he died in Cuba in 1899, the camp he established in Austin, and the one which bears his name, is still an active military post, and remains the headquarters for the Texas Military Forces. These forces include the Texas Air National Guard, Texas Army National Guard, and Texas State Guard.

Upon arriving at Camp Mabry, visitors have to stop at the gate and present some form of photo identification to get in, and, in addition, they must consent to having the trunk of their automobile searched. All in all, the security stop at the gate only takes a minute or two, and is not much of an inconvenience, especially given the fact that there is no charge to enter the museum.

I have to admit that I really wasn’t expecting to be very impressed with the museum. I figured there must be a good reason for the relative lack of publicity and visitors it receives. But, I was very wrong. What I found, instead, was something that Austin should be proud of publicizing a little more than it does.

The museum itself consists of both indoor and outdoor displays. The museum was first opened in 1992, after years of careful planning. The museum exhibits thousands of military artifacts, and provides an interpretation of the history of the military forces of Texas. From the Texas War of Independence from Mexico, through a host of other wars throughout this country’s history, the military forces of Texas have played a prominent and important role. This historical role is proudly reflected in every part of the museum. The museum is named for Brigadier General John C.L. Scribner, who served in the Texas Military Forces, and was instrumental in making the museum a reality following his retirement.

The indoor portion of the museum is housed in a large building constructed in 1918, and which served as Camp Mabry’s mess hall for many years. The friendly volunteer docents told me that the mess hall, at one time, used steam in the kitchen. Apparently, at some point there was a steam related death, and, ever since, a ghost has been seen in and around the building, or, so the story goes.

As you would expect, the museum building is filled with uniforms, guns, maps, flags, and battle dioramas. However, since the old mess hall is so large, it also contains cavalry wagons, cannons, airplanes, helicopters, jeeps, tanks, armored vehicles, and communication vans. It even contains relatively obscure displays, like the immersion heater, which ensured that the mess kits of common foot soldiers were kept bacteria free. Additionally, there are numerous handouts which provide information on the military displays at the museum, important Texas battles, Texas Military Forces in World War II, wartime recipes, and a walking tour of the historic sites of Camp Mabry. There is also a small gift store, with books, postcards, and other small items you can purchase to both support the museum and to help remember your visit.

Outside, the military displays are impressive. There are several areas to visit: Armor Row, Artillery Park, and the Static Displays. Armor Row consists of tanks, self-propelled howitzers, armored personnel carriers, bulldozers, mortar carriers, tow vehicles, and many other armored vehicles. Artillery Park consists of American, French, German, and Soviet artillery pieces. The Static displays include both American fighter jets and helicopters. The outdoor display of military firepower and aircraft covers quite an area, so make sure you are wearing your walking shoes.

Sad to say, but the day and time I visited the museum, I was the only visitor there. The good news was, I had the whole place to myself. The bad news was, I had the whole place to myself. The volunteer docents were very accommodating, and eager to show me around. Given that I was the only visitor at the time, they asked me if I enjoyed the museum, and, if so, would I tell others to come visit? Given my positive experience, I told them I would definitely tell others, and, it is a pleasure to do so.

Why more people, both visitors and locals, don’t visit the museum is a mystery to me. Perhaps, it is because it does not fit in with the slogan which Austin brands itself with, that slogan being, “Keep Austin Weird.” There is certainly nothing "weird" about the many thousands of Texans who have served in the military forces of Texas from the 1830's to this present day. And, while the museum highlighting their service may be underappreciated, the historical service of these brave members of the Texas Military Forces is very much appreciated.

Texas Independence Day

March 2nd of every year is a very special day for Texans. For it is on this day, that citizens of Texas annually celebrate something which cannot be celebrated by citizens around the rest of the country, Texas Independence Day. Unlike any other state, Texas was once an independent and sovereign nation.

It was on March 2, 1836, in Washington-on-the-Brazos, that an assembly of representatives from various small villages and settlements throughout Texas voted to approve the Declaration of Independence from Mexico. In the words of the document itself, the signers declared “that the people of Texas do now constitute a free, Sovereign, and independent republic.” Through the actions of this assembly of delegates, the Republic of Texas was formed.

The move toward independence was precipitated by Mexico’s decision to create a centralized form of government, which greatly diluted the power of the individual Mexican states, including the state of Coahuila y Tejas, which now includes parts of present day Texas.

It was an official Texas State Holiday today, and in Austin, the capital of Texas, there was an observance at the Texas State Cemetery, where fifteen signers of the “The Unanimous Declaration of Independence made by the Delegates of the People of Texas,” on that day long ago, are buried.

Declaring independence is one thing, securing the independence declared is something else altogether. On March 6, 1836, less than a week after independence was declared, the upstart Texans were dealt a bloody setback at the Alamo Mission in San Antonio, by the Mexican military leader, Santa Anna.

Chicago Hot Dogs ... Texas Style

There is really no true substitute for having a “Chicago Style Hot Dog” anywhere else but the city which gave it the name. There are, of course, times, when it seems, you have to settle for the next best thing.

First of all, let’s define what makes a regular hot dog a Chicago Style Hot Dog. It consists of an all beef hot dog, bright green sweet pickle relish (not the stuff most of us find on the grocery shelf), plain yellow mustard, pickles, onions, tomato wedges, sport peppers, and, celery salt on a steamed poppy seed bun. I’m not expert enough to describe the correct order of assembly, but those are the basic ingredients.

Since most of us around the country don’t live in Chicago, or get to visit there all that often, we have to settle for the next best thing, at least with respect to a Chicago hot dog. And, the next best thing down here in Texas, while perhaps a little different than in Chicago, is a great Chicago style dog.

Dog Almighty, located on South Lamar in Austin, is the local Texas purveyor of Chicago style hot dogs. True to the Chicago original, it serves grilled beef hot dogs, with tomatoes, pickles, bright green relish, onions, plain yellow mustard, and celery salt. But, there are a few differences. The bun, rather than being steamed, is toasted, and there are no poppy seeds. And while I don’t miss the poppy seeds all that much, I rather enjoy the toasted bun. While toasted buns are not traditionally a part of Chicago style hot dogs, they are definitely a part of the history of the American hot dog.

If for some really strange reason you are not enamored with Chicago style hot dogs, you have plenty of other choices at Dog Almighty, including veggie and turkey dogs. There are a lot of locally created Texas hot dogs on the menu, and, if none of those suit you, you can order “The Slacker Dog.” If you order this hot dog, you can pretty much create the hot dog of your dreams. You start from scratch with the hot dog itself, and then add one or more of the many available ingredients and condiments Dog Almighty has to offer. I’ve never ordered a “Slacker,” because if I did, I would get it with exactly the same ingredients as the Chicago style hot dog, which, of course, would be pointless.

Eating Chicago style hot dogs on South Lamar in Austin may be a little different than eating one on West Ontario Street, West Grand Avenue, or one of the countless other locations in Chicago, but it’s the next best thing. And, in my opinion, the “Chicago Dog” at Dog Almighty, is an excellent choice for those of us living in and around the Texas Hill Country, who need to enjoy a little bit of Chicago from time to time.

Sheriff James Henry Franks Of Caldwell County, Texas

James Henry Franks was born in Arkansas in 1876 and moved with his family to Texas in 1888 in a covered wagon. The family settled in Caldwell County, at that time, less than a day’s horseback ride south of Austin. Upon his reaching adulthood, Henry, the name he went by while growing up, became a farmer and a blacksmith. Shortly after the turn of the century, he married Daisy Abbott.

In 1908, Franks was elected Sheriff of Caldwell County, and soon thereafter moved with his wife and young daughter into the bottom floor of the newly built jail in Lockhart, the county seat. Less than 7 years later, he was dead, murdered by a shotgun blast from an unknown gunman.

It was in May of 1915, that he was assassinated in a crime which has never been solved. Before the days of sophisticated forensic science, DNA evidence, and 24 hour news channels, his death quickly became a footnote of history.

Speculation regarding the crime, however, continues until this day. Accounts from a family history of the sheriff suggest both political intrigue and revenge. According to the scant historical record, there was a struggle between the county’s political establishment and popular sentiment over who should be elected sheriff. Popular sentiment in the county won out, and Franks was elected Sheriff of Caldwell County. Unfortunately, as the story goes, the man he beat in the election, one John L. Smith, became bitter, and harassed Franks whenever he could.

On February 19, 1915, Smith walked into the Caldwell County Courthouse in Lockhart where the sheriff’s office was located, and threatened the life of Franks. As Smith left the sheriff’s office, and began walking the various hallways of the courthouse, Franks grabbed his double-barrel shotgun and followed him out. At some point, the two men met, and Smith began firing his pistol at Franks to no avail. It was at this point, apparently, that Franks shot Smith dead. Unfortunately, the violence inside the courthouse that day did not end the matter.

It was in the middle of May of 1915, not even 3 months after Sheriff Franks killed his rival, John Smith, that someone abruptly ended his life. It appears that the sheriff might have been called out to the railroad loading platform in Lockhart on a ruse, and then assassinated once he arrived there. Some claim the killing of Franks was committed by a member of Smith’s family, but, of course, no one really knows. To this day, his violent passing remains a mystery.

What is not a mystery, however, is the fact that both Franks, and his political adversary, John Smith, both lie in the Lockhart Cemetery. Their violent deaths, more likely than not, were caused by a dispute over who should be the Caldwell County Sheriff. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and so much for earthly things like a sheriff’s badge and the power that goes with it.

Keeping History Alive On The North Shore Of Lake Travis

It’s often been said that “a picture is worth a thousand words.” And, I might also add, that hundreds of pictures are worth many more thousands of words. But I’ll leave it to you to calculate the exact number.

For the longest time, as a resident living on the North Shore of Lake Travis, I’ve been trying to locate old photographs of the area, with little success. It’s not that old photographs of the area don’t exist, because they do, it’s just that they have been held in private family collections and have never been published. All that changed this year when The North Shore Heritage and Cultural Society, through Arcadia Publishing, published a new image book, The North Shore of Lake Travis.

Last week, in the local newspaper, I read where the society was going to promote the new book in Lago Vista, with those responsible for its creation on hand for a book signing. As you can imagine, I was excited as a school boy on the last day of class before summer break.

The day of the book sale, it could not have had a better day. Arriving shortly after things got underway, I was warmly greeted by members of the society. After purchasing my book, I watched as it was signed, not only by those people most responsible for the book, but also by others who, just like those who had made the book happen, were a genuine part of the history of the north shore. Notable among these folks were Marge Richards, the only living daughter of a Civil War veteran in Texas, Vernon Hollingsworth, an honored veteran of WWII, and Betty Jo Carter, who grew up around Lake Travis.

People like John and Charlene Vohs, Janice (Hollingsworth) McGrew, Genny (Rodgers) Kercheville, Gloria Van Cleve, and Shirley Davis, who have lived many years on the north shore of the lake, contributed so much, and spent several years pulling the book together, were kind enough to spend several minutes speaking with me. In those few minutes, I learned much about the local history of the north shore. But, perhaps, more important, I learned that they were extremely proud of the north shore’s history, and passionate about preserving its past, by keeping its history alive.

As I was walking out, I noticed that a few more books about the north shore were being offered for sale. Genny Kercheville’s, Nameless, Its History and Its People, and Lago Vista, Its Story And Its People, edited by Bruce Vernier and JoAnn Siefken, were also available. Of course, I thought I had hit the jackpot, and bought those as well. In just a few short days since the signing, I've read all the books. Each of them offers a fascinating insight into the history of the lake's north shore. The photographs in all three books are priceless, and will be appreciated by anyone who is familiar with the area.

It’s now quite apparent to me, that there are a lot of folks on the north shore who are very passionate about its history. And, as they are truly the ones keeping the history of the area alive, I was just glad to be a small part of it the other day, as I met them and purchased their important historical contribution to the area.

Dead Man’s Hole: Civil War And Reconstruction Violence In The Texas Hill Country

When the guns of the American Civil War finally fell silent in 1865, the violence in the South did not end.

Reconstruction brought about its own form of cruelty and bloodshed as the South sought to redefine itself, after having its institutions, economy, and the traditional lifestyle of its people destroyed. Many Southerners, resentful and bitter about the conditions which the war, and its conclusion, had brought about, lashed out.

Nowhere was this violent passion more evident than in Texas. The target of this violence was most often those Texans who had not supported the Confederate cause, occupying federal soldiers enforcing military rule, and the newly enfranchised freedmen. In Texas, during the Civil War and its aftermath, intimidation, fear, physical assaults, murder, and blood-feuds were common, and many famous killers and gunmen, like John Wesley Hardin, were able to ply their murderous trade against the backdrop of a sympathetic or intimidated local populace. In many cases, crimes against those who had not supported secession, federal soldiers, and freedmen were not taken seriously and were hidden, covered-up, ignored, or produced “Not Guilty” verdicts in counties throughout Texas.

Burnet County, in the Texas Hill Country, was no exception. But, extreme partisans of the South in this county had their own unique way of disposing of those with whom they disagreed. A few miles south of Marble Falls, on Shovel Mountain Road, is an opening in the earth’s surface. The hole, first discovered in 1821, has a depth of at least 155 feet.

During the Civil War, John R. Scott, Burnet County’s Chief Justice, and a Union supporter, was murdered and thrown into the hole. Before the war’s end, others accused of not being sympathetic to the Confederacy met the same fate, including a young worker named Adolph Hoppe. After the war, the hole continued filling up with bodies, as local government officials responsible for administering Reconstruction policies were targeted. One of the last men to enter the hole was a man named Ben McKeever. After a dispute with some freedmen, he was murdered and then dumped into the hole. It is thought that about 17 men ended up in the hole before the violence came to an end. At one time, an oak tree grew next to the opening, and its limbs were scarred with rope marks from hangings.

Exploration of the hole did not begin in any substantive way until the 1950’s, because of noxious gases found inside. The hole was later sealed with a grate, and in 1999, the land around it was given to the county by its owner for use as an historical park. The hole, located at the very end of a dirt road, is identified by a Texas Historical Commission marker. Not surprisingly, given the violent events which took place at the hole, it remains an eerie and haunting place, even in the daylight. It is also a grim reminder of a tragic and bloody time in the history of Texas.

The Price Of Progress: The Lost Opportunity To Preserve An Entire Commercial Airport

Commercial airliners, on their final maneuvers before landing in Austin, Texas, more often than not fly over or near a large airport control tower in the city. But these day, the airliners pass right by the old tower, just like time itself did many years ago.

The Robert Mueller Municipal Airport, named after an Austin city councilman, helped usher Austin into the commercial aviation age when it was first opened in 1930’s. Despite several attempts to modernize the airport through the years, one thing which could not be changed was its location. As time went on, the airport soon found itself surrounded by a growing and vibrant city. The airport, with its congestion, noise, and lack of room to expand eventually meant its days were numbered.

As ideas and proposals were put forth to build a new airport, the U.S. Government decided to close Bergstrom Air Force Base, which was conveniently located on the southeast edge of the city. The base was originally built as an army air field during World War II, and later became Bergstrom Air Force Base in the late 1940’s. Over the years, Bergstrom accommodated both strategic long-range bombers and tactical fighters for the U.S. Air Force, and the long runways and somewhat rural location were perfect for adapting itself into a commercial repurposing. With the closure of the military air base in 1993, the City of Austin, which actually owned the land on which Bergstrom Air Force Base sat and had reversion rights if the military ever left, was suddenly given an unexpected “gift” to solve its Mueller Airport problem.

It was 1999, before Bergstrom Air Force Base was finally converted into Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. As the new commercial airport opened, Robert Mueller Municipal Airport was closed forever. And, with the closure, nearly 70 years of commercial aviation history in Austin disappeared.

For many years after Mueller Municipal Airport was closed, it sat silent and empty like some old Texas “ghost town.” Its buildings, signs, and runways sat intact, seemingly suspended in time. Eventually, a Planned Unit Development, under the name of Mueller, was approved, with construction beginning in earnest in 2007. It is a well thought out project, which will no doubt be very successful when completed, comprising of homes, shopping, parks, and a medical center.

Today, the new homes abutting the main body of the old airport are very nice, but at least at this stage, in my opinion, seem to replicate a suburbia found in a thousand other cities across the country. To the north of the new homes, looms the main body of the old Robert Mueller Municipal Airport. Along with the old airport control tower, no longer in control of commercial airline traffic flying into Austin, are a few remaining artifacts of the past.

Americans always tend to look forward, not back. This is a good thing generally, and has propelled our country’s success over the last couple of hundred years. But, I wonder what the future importance and historical significance might have been to future generations if Austin had preserved the Robert Mueller Municipal Airport, intact, as a museum along with music venues and shops. While Austin, as a city, prides itself as being different, I think it missed a great opportunity with respect to Mueller. While Austin citizens often decry and protest the destruction of a single pecan tree in the city, or the potential loss of a small music cafe on the University of Texas campus, it missed a chance to save something which was much more difficult to preserve, an entire commercial airport, representing nearly a three-quarters of a century of American history.

Money and development, it seems, nearly always trumps historical preservation. Sadly, this is the price of "progress."

Eighty-Three Years Later, The Immortal Ten Are Still Remembered

It was 83 years ago this very week, on January 22, 1927, that a horrific accident took place in Round Rock, Texas. The event would end the lives of some, dramatically change the lives of many others, permanently impact a major Texas university, and would eventually lead to a new law, which in turn, has saved countless lives over the ensuing years.

In the early morning hours of January 22, 1927, a school bus left the Baylor University campus carrying its basketball team, the coach, and a few others, with the destination being the University of Texas, in Austin. Getting an early start for the basketball matchup with Texas, scheduled for later that evening, the bus was driven by a young freshman. It was a rainy cold morning, and driving the bus on the muddy roads in the wet weather was no easy chore, and it was very slow going. Despite the early start, it was around noon before the bus even reached Round Rock.

On the southern edge of town, railroad tracks crossed the road on which the bus was traveling. Unfortunately, an approaching train and the bus were on a collision course. While the train blew its whistle as it approached the crossing, it was not heard by anyone on the bus. By the time the driver and others on the bus saw the train, it was too late. Despite the young driver’s valiant last second attempt to avoid a collision, he was unsuccessful. The result was a catastrophe. The train hit the bus at a high speed, and ten people, almost half of the passengers on the bus perished.

The grief around Baylor in the initial days following the accident was overwhelming. The dead, quickly referred to as the “Immortal Ten,” were soon buried at various places around Texas, and the survivors went on with their lives. They became successful educators, coaches, and businessmen. One of the survivors was awarded the Medal of Honor, for heroic military actions during World War II. The survivors of the crash are all gone now, but like those who were taken from the earth on that late January day so many years ago, they are not forgotten.

Each year, during the Freshman Mass Meeting held during Baylor’s homecoming week, the story of the Round Rock crash is told, along with a reading of names of the victims. This tradition not only ensures that everyone attending Baylor is well familiar with the story of the Immortal Ten, it also serves to bring the students, faculty, and local community closer together. Additionally, within the last few years, an impressive memorial to the Immortal Ten, consisting of statutes and representations of those who were lost, has been erected on the Baylor campus.

One of the most important things which came from the tragedy in Round Rock was the passage of legislation which mandated overpasses or underpasses at railroad crossings on certain roadways in Texas. The very first overpass constructed as a result of the new law was at the site of the Baylor bus crash in Round Rock. Along with the overpass, a simple marker was erected listing the names of those whose lives were taken. The overpasses and underpasses mandated by the law have undoubtedly saved countless lives over the years across the state. And, this, perhaps, is the most important legacy of the tragedy.

On any given day, the trains still roar through that same railroad crossing in Round Rock. Fortunately, however, as the trains pass through town these days, motorists and pedestrians alike are protected from danger because of the sacrifice made 83 years ago, this very week, by the Baylor University basketball team, and it’s “Immortal Ten.”

The Very Slow Death Of A Hill Country "Mountain"

Granite Mountain, located on the western edge of the Texas Hill Country town of Marble Falls, is a large monolith of red and pink granite which has been gracing the skyline for many millions of years. With each passing day and week, however, it disappears a little bit more, as the demand for granite worldwide ensures it’s extremely slow, but inevitable destruction.

Since the late 1800’s, the mountain has been quarried for its high quality granite. And, this has both supplied jobs and helped create impressive Texas structures like the State Capitol Building and the seawall in Galveston. But, someday, well into the future, long after my lifetime and yours, the quarrying of the mountain, if it continues at its present pace, will eventually cause its demise.

After a fire destroyed the previous capitol building in Austin, plans for a new building were drawn up, and construction began in the 1880’s. Originally, the capitol building was supposed to be built using limestone local to the area. That plan was scrapped when it was determined that the limestone would discolor over time. As a result, a series of events took place which would hasten the end of Granite Mountain, at least as it had remained for those many millions of years.

A bargain of sorts was struck between the owners of the quarry at Granite Mountain and the state. In exchange for the state constructing a short rail line from the quarry to an existing rail line leading to Austin, the owners of the quarry provided the granite which was used in building the capitol building. In a controversial decision, the state agreed to provide prisoners to help with the project, at far less than what it would have cost to pay skilled union labor.

While state prisoners were used to build the short rail line and to provide the painstaking work necessary to quarry the granite from the mountain, they did not have the talents to perform the more delicate cutting and finishing work necessary to complete the project. The use of prison labor horrified most regular workers and labor organizations in and around Austin, so they essentially boycotted the project, and refused to take part in any work connected with the construction of the capitol building. As a result, skilled stone craftsmen were brought from Scotland to help complete the project.

The new Texas State Capitol was completed in 1888, and opened that very same year. The result of using granite from Granite Mountain was fortuitous, in that it produced a magnificent building in which all Texans still take pride. But, there is another legacy of the project. While it is true that the quarrying of Granite Mountain was taking place prior to the capitol construction project, the lack of rail transportation to the quarry limited the amount of granite which could, as a practical matter, be utilized. This, of course, changed with the construction of the rail line, which had been facilitated by the project. Additionally, the notoriety of the project, along with its spectacular end result, brought even more interest in the granite found in Marble Falls. This led to greater demand for the granite, and consequently, more quarrying.

The quarrying still continues today. And with every kitchen countertop produced, a little bit more of Granite Mountain disappears, as the granite is chipped away. There is still a lot of the mountain left, of course, and barring some extraordinary event, it will still be something striking to view for a very long time to come. But, it is also remarkable how much 130 years of quarrying can change the face of something that has been around for millions of years before recorded time.

Lighting Up The Past: Austin’s Moonlight Towers

It’s hard to believe these days perhaps, but there was a time before ambient light polluted the night sky, that even some of the largest cities in the country were quite dark after the sun went down. This produced problems, not the least of which was increased evening crime.

In the late 1800’s, as innovations in technology made it possible, many municipalities turned to carbon arc lighting to brighten their streets, or, more specifically, their entire town. Unlike street lights which light up a relatively small area, the arc lights were hoisted on top of tall metal towers, sometimes hundreds of feet high. By placing many of these towers in strategic locations around the city, it was possible to light up nearly everything within the city limits. These towers, with their lights, were often called Moonlight Towers.

In the mid 1890’s, Austin was one of the cities which decided to erect the lighting system. Austin bought 31 towers with accompanying lighting equipment from Detroit, Michigan, a city which had received a lot of favorable press since installing the system itself.

Many citizens in Austin, perhaps not as technologically sophisticated as those living in Detroit at the time, worried about the ill effects of living in a city where it would never get dark. Some predicted dire consequences on everything from animals to plants. It didn’t take long after the lights were first lit, however, for the skeptics to see that the ever-present artificial “Moon Light” was harmless.

Over the years, the unique lighting system, which had been installed in so many places around the country, has been phased out in favor of lighting which is easier to maintain and much less expensive. The one exception is Austin, Texas. The city remains the country’s sole remaining location where the towers are still present and the lights illuminate the city from very high above, every night of the year.

Of course, with the passage of time, the towers have all been repaired and restored, and the technology of the lights updated. The actual number of existing towers has been reduced, for one reason or another, by about half. Critics over the years have cited both cost and the unsightliness of the towers to call for their removal, but to no avail. This is Austin after all, a city which takes pride in being different. This city pride, which has preserved the towers and the special lighting system, continues to "lighten" a tangible link through Austin’s past. For that, we can all be grateful.

1883: A Bloody Christmas in McDade, Texas

The Yegua Knobs are a line of small hills running along the border of the Texas counties of Bastrop and Lee, and are very close to Williamson County as well. During the mid to late 1800’s, the underbrush, large stands of cedar trees, and the elevated terrain of the Knobs made it a perfect place for people to go who did not want to be found. As such, the Knobs provided a safe haven for violence-prone drifters, killers, petty thieves, Confederate deserters, and men who liked to steal cattle and horses.

The years following the Civil War were especially traumatic across the Southern states, Texas included. The South was devastated by the war, and many of its social institutions were destroyed. Confederate soldiers returning to Texas found a much different environment from the one they left. Resentment and bitterness between those who supported secession and those who did not resulted in violence, murder, and blood feuds across the state. To make matters even worse, Federal soldiers, who came to Texas to enforce Reconstruction, exacerbated the already unsettled situation. In many places in Texas, it was a very dangerous time for law-abiding citizens.

The McDade, Texas, area was first settled on the edge of the Knobs in the 1860’s, but did not become a town, as such, until the 1870’s. The building of the railroad through town greatly expanded the financial opportunities in the area, and, along with the more respectable businesses of the time, came the gambling dens and saloons. These attractions brought many of the less than desirable men out of the Knobs into McDade to “take advantage” of the money passing through town. The bitterness and anger of the Reconstruction era, fueled by survival instincts, alcohol, and guns, brought about an explosive combination in and around McDade, which culminated into a deadly Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in 1883.

Texas, in the late 1800’s, was hampered by a lack of fast and effective communication, slow travel conditions, and understaffed, biased, or corrupt law enforcement officials. Given those unique circumstances, jury members were often reluctant to convict those who broke the law, for fear that they or, members of their families would be harmed. It was not an irrational fear.

During the 1870’s, a gang of desperate men began to form in the Knobs. The “Notch-Cutters,” as they were called, was a gang which initially preyed upon the weak and defenseless, but later still on powerful ranchers and respected citizens of McDade. Citizens were often ambushed as they traveled through the area. People disappeared and mysterious graves were found from time to time. The citizens of McDade, eventually, endured enough of the killings and fear, and formed a vigilante group to enforce order and decency in the area.

As early as 1875, McDade vigilantes hung two trouble makers. The outlaws then attempted to square things by killing a couple of men who had participated in the lynching. The vigilantes, however, immediately struck back. The retribution came in the form of yet another outlaw hanging from a tree. The next year, a couple of cattle-rustlers were caught skinning cattle belonging to the nearby Olive Ranch. They were shot dead, and covered with the branded hides of the animals they had killed. In 1877, vigilantes stopped a dance not far from McDade, and took several suspects away. They were later found hanging from a tree. These incidents, along with others, were just a precursor to the bloody Christmas in McDade itself in 1883.

In December 1883, a deputy arrived in McDade to investigate a couple of murders which had taken place in nearby Fedor, Texas. He was shot and killed as he walked through McDade’s streets after dark. Despite all the violence which had taken place in and around McDade over the years, this was the incident, it seems, which crystallized the need for decisive action among the town’s citizens.

Christmas Eve 1883 found a celebration in progress inside the Rock Front Saloon in McDade. During the evening, many armed vigilantes arrived at the saloon, and took three men away into the dark night. They were found the next morning dangling from a tree about a mile outside of town.

The next morning, Christmas Day, found several members of the “Notch-Cutters” milling around town. The sequence of events and motivations of those involved is disputed, but what is not disputed is that a gunfight took place on a McDade street. The fight involved two respected McDade businessmen, Tom Bishop and George Milton, and several members of the gang. When the shooting stopped, two gang members were dead, and another, seriously wounded. Another person who came to the defense of Bishop and Milton was also killed in the melee. When all was said and done, the Christmas Eve hangings and Christmas Day shootings left six men dead. Needless to point out perhaps, but it was not a very Merry Christmas that year in McDade.

Although some violence in McDade lingered for many years thereafter, there was never anything again like that bloody Christmas in 1883. Today, McDade is a very small and extremely quiet place best known for its annual watermelon festivals. If one did not know the town’s history, there is nothing today to suggest its violent past. The old railroad track, which brought both prosperity and crime during the 1800’s, is now covered with grass and weeds. And the Rock Front Saloon, the scene of much of the turmoil in McDade’s history, is a museum.

The Yegua Knobs, of course, still rise above the surrounding area. And, although the infamous “Notch-Cutters” lost the natural protection the region afforded the gang long ago, the Knobs area itself has recently been in need of preservation from the threat of encroaching development. As a result, several hundred acres of the Knobs have been safely secured in recent years to ensure development does not destroy the natural beauty, flora, fauna, and history of the region.

The Clash Of Cultures And The Webster Massacre

Historically, the Comanche did not make many friends, even among fellow Native Americans. The Comanche were a force to be reckoned with, however, for hundreds of years in what is now the American West and Mexico.

Skilled with horses, the Comanche were both proficient traders and brave warriors. The Comanche traded and fought with a host of diverse people and political powers from around 1700 until the late 1800’s, but were finally overwhelmed by the expansion of the United States as it pushed west.

One of the most famous and bloody clashes involving the Comanche occurred in Texas in 1839 (the exact date is disputed). The Webster family, along with some traveling companions, left Virginia for a new life in the West. While heading through Texas, they were attacked by Comanche warriors along Brushy Creek, in what is now Williamson County, just east of present day Leander, Texas.

The attack left all the men in John Webster’s party dead. Webster's wife and two children, one boy and one girl, were captured. The wife and daughter later escaped, and his son was safely ransomed. This was a happy ending, perhaps, to a not so happy confrontation between two very different cultures.

Although John Webster lost his life in the Comanche raid in 1839, his daughter, who survived the attack but was captured, lived until the age of 93, before passing away in California in 1927. The last Comanche warriors finally surrendered to authorities in the 1870’s.

While many pioneers continued to move west to eventually establish the western boundry of the United States in California, most of the remaining Comanche eventually settled in Oklahoma. During World War II, like the Navajo code talkers who befuddled the Japanese military, and made such an important contribution to this country in the Pacific, the Comanche code talkers were equally important in Europe confusing the German military.

The violent struggles in Texas of long ago, which helped produce events like the Webster Massacre, emanated from collisions of much different cultures. Today, the victims of the massacre lie peacefully in a common grave in a cemetery along the eastern edge of the hill country, a mile or so due east of Leander.

Barbara Jordan

Visitors waiting for their luggage on the bottom floor of the passenger terminal of Austin-Bergstrom International Airport will see a bronze statue of a person after whom the terminal is named. That person is Barbara Jordan.

Barbara Jordan was born in Houston, Texas, the daughter of a Baptist minister. Excelling in school studies and debate while growing up, she attended Texas Southern University, and later the law school at Boston University. Upon returning to Texas, she opened up a law practice in Houston.

Jordan became involved in politics soon after her return to Texas. An active volunteer in support of the Kennedy-Johnson ticket during the 1960 election, she went on to run for a seat in the Texas House of Representatives in both 1962 and 1964. While she lost both times, she did not give up, and finally gained a seat in the Texas Senate, representing the area around her native Houston. The election victory was viewed as historic at the time, given that she was both an African-American and a woman.

During her years working as a state senator in Austin, she impressed her colleagues with her hard work and dedication to the causes in which she believed. After her successful career as a state senator, she ran for the United States House of Representatives in 1972, and was elected. It was during her tenure in Washington that she first came to national prominence.

Tirelessly supporting legislation designed to help the poor and disenfranchised, Jordan became an important voice in the impeachment proceedings of Richard Nixon. Despite her important impact in Washington, her health began to decline, and so she chose to return to Texas in the late 1970’s.

Jordan’s political career had a positive impact in both Texas, and the United States as a whole. As an African-American, and a woman, she was elected to political bodies, which at the time, had few representatives of either.

Jordan’s relationship with Austin began when she first served as a state senator, and this relationship was renewed upon her return to her home state, when she started teaching at the University of Texas. Upon her life’s passing, in 1996, she was buried in the exclusive Texas State Cemetery in Austin, and honor reserved only for those who have made important contributions to the State of Texas.

The Old Williamson County Jail

One of the things Georgetown, Texas is known for today is “Sun City Texas,” the large retirement community.

But for many in Georgetown between the hundred year period between 1889 and 1989, there was a place where the sun did not shine. That place, was the Williamson County Jail.

The jail was built to replace an older more insecure facility which was located right next to the courthouse. With construction finished in 1888, prisoners began inhabiting the new jail early the following year. Even today, one hundred-twenty years after it first housed prisoners, and twenty years since it closed, the building, although architecturally interesting, is a haunting place to look at from the outside. I cannot even begin to imagine the place on the inside. The old jail is historically noteworthy for a couple of reasons, beyond the fact that it is very old.

The last man hanged in Williamson County was escorted out of the jail just before his appointment with the gallows in 1906. Tom Young, a dirt poor cotton chopper, had beaten his niece to death during the previous year. In March 1906, the scales of justice weighed in, and Young was escorted out of town and hung in front of a large crowd.

Much later, in the years just before the jail closed, the facility confined the alleged serial killer, Henry Lee Lucas. Although sentenced to death for a Williamson County murder, his sentenced was reduced to life in prison by the governor, given the fact that the evidence was less than reliable, as Lucas had a habit of confessing to crimes he could not have possibly committed. But, he was, of course, guilty of many heinous crimes, and died in a Texas prison in 2001.

If a drive past the old jail in Georgetown at 3rd and Main doesn’t scare someone out of a life in crime, I don’t know what will. While today’s penal facilities are called “correctional facilities,” one hundred years ago in Georgetown and for long thereafter, it was more about punishment than correction.

Round Rock, Texas, And The Chisholm Trail

Extending along the eastern edge of the Texas Hill Country was the famous Chisholm Trail. Although some purists insist that the Texas portions of the trail were merely feeder routes, and the “official” Chisholm Trail only began in Oklahoma, the purist view, taking into account the broad view of history, makes little sense.

The historical significance of the trail, by whatever name, comes from the fact that Texas Longhorn cattle were driven by the millions up specific stretches of land to the railheads in Kansas. Without the cattle coming up out of Texas into the Oklahoma Territory, Jesse Chisholm’s Oklahoma trading trail would have become but a very small footnote in history. The historical meaning of the trail in the history of our country is not about its name, but about the fact that Texas cattle came from the southern regions of Texas to be sold in the north, and the cowboy legends, folklore, and myths it inspired. The cattle did not magically appear on the Oklahoma border, but walked up trails in Texas to get there.

The ranching of cattle in Texas began prior to the American Civil War, but ebbed during the war itself, as Texans went off to fight, and the markets were disrupted. After the war’s conclusion, however, ranching began in earnest. Texas Longhorn cattle were originally driven north, and east, through Arkansas and Missouri, but eventually it was discovered that the Texas Longhorns, who were immune to its effects, carried a tick which caused “Texas Fever,” that decimated local cattle. As a result, laws were passed in those states to prevent the passage of Texas cattle. In addition, the cattle bosses and their herds were often met with armed citizens to prevent access through their land.

Given these setbacks, the cattle were driven further west away from onerous laws and hostile landowners. But the movement west, was not without a price, where, drier conditions, and unwelcoming Native-Americans, caused different problems. Nevertheless, the cattle drives continued up the Chisholm Trail until the late 1880’s, when a combination of factors (laws in Kansas, farmers, barbed wire, and railroads in Texas) brought it all to an end.

The Chisholm Trail, and the cowboy lore it created, has captured the imagination of many generations since the time it was relevant, but, it really only lasted twenty years or so. It was an important part of the “Old West,” because it created the cowboy. In this country, because of movies, television, and myth, the cowboy best represents this period of history in the American West, and in some places around the world, the cowboy represents our country itself. In our thoughts today, the time period of the "Old West" was long-lasting, but, in reality, it only took place from just before the beginning of the American Civil War until the early 1900’s.

Round Rock, Texas, which lies along the eastern boundary of the hill country, was right on the Chisholm Trail, and gets its name from a round rock in the middle of Brushy Creek, where Native-Americans and the cattle drivers alike, knew, marked a spot of low water where passage for people and cattle was safe.

Today, Round Rock’s Chisholm Trail Road crosses Brushy Creek. On the west side of the road is Chisholm Trail Crossing Park, which commemorates the historic trail drives with sculptures of Texas Longhorns and early Texas pioneers. And, in the creek itself, just east of the bridge, is the round flat rock which was such an important marker during the trail drives, and which gave the city its name.

The Horrell-Higgins Feud

Today, Lampasas County Texas is a rather quiet and sleepy place, but there was a time when such was not the case. During the 1870’s, Lampasas County was on the frontier, and the scene of violence and murder, which ultimately culminated in the Horrell-Higgins feud.

The five Horrell brothers, a wild and lawless bunch, were involved in shootouts and killings in both Lampasas and New Mexico (where one brother was killed) before the famous feud even began. One shootout in particular, which involved the Horrell brothers, left four State Policemen dead in Jerry Scott’s Saloon in the city of Lampasas.

When the brothers started stealing cattle, however, they took on an enemy who sealed their fate. John Calhoun Pinckney Higgins, the man with the big mustache who everyone called, “Pink,” was born in Georgia, but grew up in Texas after his family moved west. Pink Higgins grew up tough, participating in the tracking down of Comanche warriors and weathering difficult cattle drives while still in his teens.

Although the Horrell and Higgins families were at one time friendly Lampasas County neighbors, the Horrell brothers and Pink Higgins eventually took different directions in life. As the Horrell brothers began rustling cattle, Pink Higgins pushed back on their criminal activity. It is said he shot a Horrell family employee for killing one of his animals, then shoved the dead man inside its carcass, and rode to town to report that a cow had given birth to a human.

As the cattle rustling continued, Pink walked into a saloon in Lampasas in January 1877, and gunned down and killed one of the Horrell brothers. Several months later, he ambushed two other Horrell brothers several miles east of Lampasas, and while not killing them, did wound both of them. And, some months after this incident, a gunfight between the Horrell brothers, and their cohorts, and Pink Higgins, and his friends, took place in the Lampasas town square, with even more deaths.

With the escalating violence, the Texas Rangers rode in and negotiated a “peace treaty,” of sorts, between the Horrell clan and Pink Higgins. While the Horrell-Higgins feud had seemingly come to an end, violence involving the Horrell brothers and Pink Higgins did not.

Of the five Horrell brothers, only three were still alive at the end of the feud. And two of the three, were not long for the world. After having been arrested for even more crimes, including murder, they were shot dead in their jail cells by a mob in Meridian, Texas, while awaiting trial. Although no proof has ever been uncovered, many people suspect Pink was involved.

Pink Higgins, who, for some reason, is not well-known in the annals of the “Old West,” was a prolific killer; with some saying he dispatched at least fourteen people. His last killing, took place in 1902, when he killed a rival in the Panhandle of Texas. After he shot the man, Higgins notified the county sheriff, but was told to go back and check to see if the man was indeed dead, and if not, make sure that he finished what he started. What a different world it was in Texas, back in those days.

Pink eventually died of a heart attack in 1913, but was outlived by the last survivor of the Horrell-Higgins feud, Sam Horrell, who died in California in 1936.

Waterloo Records: A Store From Another Place And Time, But With A Big Difference

When I was growing up, record stores were a special place to visit. This was before the big-box chain record and electronic stores took over everything. Back in those days, with a little luck, a buck, and a few cents additional for tax, you could get the latest 45 rpm “hit” of your favorite singer or band. Those family operated record stores always had the Cash Box or Billboard charts posted on the wall, the 45’s in small shelves behind the counter, and albums stuffed in wood racks in crowded aisles. And, the owners were always knowledgeable about music they were selling.

Over the years, the technology changed, and record albums and 45’s were eventually replaced by 8-track tapes, then cassettes, and later still, by CD’s. And while CD’s are still around, they are slowly losing popularity as the ability to buy music off the internet increases.

The family record shops, for the most part, are long gone. So too, it seems, are the big box-chain record stores. Today, major electronic chain stores still sell CD’s of course, but it’s not the same. While they stock the most commercially popular music selections, they do not carry the music of local bands that have “cut” records, and are looking for a little exposure. In the old days, the small family-owned record shops would always carry several of these records, as a favor to the local musicians, their family, and friends. In most cases, they were vanity records which never amounted to anything, but, from time to time, some success came from them.

If I’ve got you at least a little bit nostalgic, then visit Waterloo Records in Austin, Texas. Started in 1982, it has the “look and feel” of the small record stores I remember when I was younger. There are crowded aisles, with employees who are knowledgeable about the music being sold, a large selection of commercially popular music, the not so popular music, and the music of local musical artists and bands trying to catch a break or two.

Waterloo Records, however, is far different from the small “Mom and Pop” record shops of the past. Like many bookstores that now have authors come in to speak about their books and sign autographs, Waterloo Records has musicians come in to perform and sign autographs. And quite often, these musicians are well-known. This year, Willie Nelson, as but just one example, sang at Waterloo. More recently, on December 5, 2009, Rosanne Cash performed at Waterloo.

But, the real difference that Waterloo Records has from the old family-owned record shops, in my opinion, is the fact that while it protects music’s past, it also embraces music’s future, utilizing the latest technology. While it still faithfully sells music on CD, and on long-playing vinyl albums, it also has in-store listening stations, and sells music online, including downloads. Waterloo Records, bridges the past with the present.

Perhaps, just perhaps, with its attention to the music technology of the past, and with an appreciation of local music, live music performances, and the latest music technology, Waterloo Records will not go the way of its predecessors. But, it still needs to do something about that tiny parking lot. That’s the one thing that hasn’t kept up with the times.