Postcard From God's Country



She ran right in front of my truck and jumped 
the ditch by the road.

After leaving Cherry Mountain School, a little ways down the "found a nugget" road was another little road that called to me. I still had a few hours before meeting with my old RV friends that evening so I answered the call. No more specific nuggets were found, but I drove down this little country road for 45 minutes and never did see another car or person - a nugget in and of itself. I did see deer - lots of deer. I saw enough deer it seemed for all God's children to each have one of their very own.

Quiet, peaceful family cemetery out in
God's country.

I saw several small, family cemeteries, a handful of headstones fenced in, out in the fields of cactus and mesquite trees. Old timers deeply connected to their land who didn't want to leave it even in death. In my opinion, they chose wise - eternity in God's country.

And as I drove back in the general direction of Kerrville and traffic and McDonalds and Starbucks and my Hampton Inn upgraded room with a couch and a great view of the overly bright "Welcome To Kerrville" sign, I saw lots and lots of God's country.

Texas Hill Country vista.

After I hit the lottery or convince a million nice folks to pay me $1 each to read my musings, this is where you will find me; a nice little 100 acre ranchette on a hill with a little cabin right in the middle of it. And when my days are over, look for a memorial headstone inside a little fence that marks where my ashes were spread and know I'm a happy camper spending eternity in God's country.



(Please click here to read the first post of this series.)



Postcard From Cherry Mountain School

After my visit to Cherry Spring, I went sightseeing with no destination in mind, no route chosen, no real time limit, just drive around until I see a road and think, huh, I wonder what's down there? You might be surprised at some of the interesting things you run across doing this. A good friend calls these delightful unexpected encounters "road nuggets." I like road nuggets.

Blue flowers, but not Bluebonnets

Between Cherry Spring and Fredericksburg, I came across a road that was signed Cherry Mountain Loop. I wondered what's down there and lo and behold, I found a nugget! The first thing I ran across was some wild flowers, one of the few patches I had seen and the biggest field of them by far. They weren't bluebonnets, but they were pretty. A bit further along and there were more flowers of a different sort. I'm not a certified Master Gardener, but the Momma-woman is. I took a picture of these flowers, sent them to her for identification and she called them "mean weeds with pretty flowers." I really appreciated her keen insight.

Mean weeds with pretty flowers

Another 100 yards down the road and someone had 3 Texas Longhorns in a large fenced pasture. No, not the human kind like me and my fellow University of Texas graduates, the cow kind. But it was several hundred more yards down the road and around a curve where the unexpected nugget popped up - an old school complex right smack in the middle of nowhere.

I spent the next hour walking around looking and thinking about the kids and teachers who had spent some of their lives here. I sat for a while under a shade-giving tree and heard the sounds of children playing, chasing each other in games of tag and leap-frog and wondered if any of the boys had tried to put a frog down the back of a little girl's dress. The whole time I was there, I was alone with my thoughts. No car, no farm truck passed by on the little black-top road. A few birds chirped, a couple of grasshoppers jumped and some wasps flew around their nest under the building's eaves; these were the only things that disturbed the perfect silence. In the middle of a hot summer's day in rural Texas, I heard peace.

Texas Longhorn

After getting back to my room that evening, I did some research and found the history of what I stumbled onto. In 1883, ten students enrolled for classes in their new school at Cherry Mountain. The first school building was a log cabin to which a room constructed of limestone was later added. Teachers lived on the property in the loft or with close neighbors. When the school first started, drinking water was obtained from a residence located about 250 yards from the school. Later, a well was drilled on the school property. At first children drank water from a bucket using a single dipper, then students brought their own cups that were kept in their desks. A second building was constructed in 1926. Otto Thiele donated 1 1/2 acres for this new school and J.F. Oehler was the first teacher. Enrollment in the first year was 39 students, with 36 in attendance the second year.



Newest structure built in 1926

The first school started with five grades; later two more grades were added and eventually the eighth grade was added. In 1927-28, the ninth grade was also taught. Night school for eighth and ninth grades was added in 1931-33. Reinhold Weber was the teacher at the time. The school eventually consolidated with Fredericksburg and closed  in 1949.  

Today, the buildings are owned by the Cherry Mountain Community Club and are used for meetings, weddings, reunions and special parties.

Original unisex bathroom

It's been a long time since classes were held and the kids who actually went to school here have all grown old and few are left, but on certain days, if you stop and listen, really listen, the laughter of children can still be heard.



(Please click here to read the first post in this series.)
 

Postcard From Cherry Spring, TX

The offending sign.

After awaking from my really nice nap, I ran down to Wendy's, got a salad for supper and read some more Ghost Country by Patrick Lee on my iPad. Returning to the hotel, I broke out the laptop, answered emails, and wrote an entry for this blog. Still not sleepy. Read more Ghost Country. Finally turned off the light and that's when I noticed it - Welcome to Kerrville. Specifically, a sign stating "Welcome to Kerrville" which was outside of my upgraded room that was brighter than any sign I've seen since the last time I was in Vegas. And the room designer, obviously a person who had never spent a single night in one of his/her own designed rooms, evidently thought there would be no need for a window curtain heavier than a sheer. The light from that sign was shining big and bright deep in the heart of Texas and right into my room. I can take naps in light, but I can't sleep well all the night through if there is much light. I guess my head thinks I'm just taking a nap so I wake up after an hour - every hour, all night. I finally pulled one of the 6 pillows the Hampton Inn thinks everyone sleeps with over my head and only woke up 4 times during the night when I rolled over and dislodged my "make-it-dark" pillow.

The next morning I got up bright eyed and bushy tailed and headed back north 16 miles beyond Fredericksburg to a little "blink and you'll miss it" spot on the road, Cherry Spring. Founded in 1852 by Dietrich Rode and William Kothe, two Germans who moved from Fredericksburg, the town was on the route from San Antonio to El Paso and thus enjoyed a good amount of prosperity as a commercial center. A post office was granted in 1858 and it had a population of 202 in 1860. Eventually though, hard times arrived and the post office closed in 1912. By 1933 the population stood at 40 and soon, only 9 residents remained with only one commercial building still standing. That building had been built in 1890 by a one-time Apache captive named Herman Lehmann.  For years it served the neighboring ranchers as a saloon, post office, and dry goods store all rolled into one. In the early 1950's, it was converted into the Cherry Springs Dance Hall and an amazing thing happened.

Music and fame came to Cherry Spring. Anybody who was somebody in country music played the Cherry Springs Dance Hall. Touring acts from the Louisiana Hayride and the Grand Ole Opry played there. Patsy Cline, Hank Williams, Bob Wills, Buck Owens, George Jones, Johnny Cash, and Ernest Tubb played there. On October 9, 1955, The King himself, Elvis, played the Cherry Springs Dance Hall. The price of a ticket? A whole $1.50. Every weekend, people traveled from miles and miles away for a few hours of great music and dancing in little bitty Cherry Spring.

And then, gradually, things changed. The big names started playing concert halls and arenas and stadiums instead of dance halls, places where thousands rather than dozens paid good money to hear them. Cherry Springs Dance Hall lost out and music abandoned Cherry Spring. All was quiet once again when the hall closed in the 1980's. After almost 100 years of music and history, the old building became a hay barn and began to fall apart from neglect.

In the late 1990's, interest picked up and several investors bought the old place and renovated it. Once again the sound of music reverberated in Cherry Spring every Saturday night. This time the music was being provided by the up-and-coming pre-Nashville country artists and once again, people traveled from miles away to enjoy good music and some two-steppin'. The only rule was "no line dancing." The manager said, "Nobody can line dance and look good doing it."

In 2007, the place closed yet again and new investors were being sought. I heard the place is open now, but it didn't look like it to me. The whole town looked abandoned except for a couple of old homes with dirt and weed yards. No people were around to ask. I got out of my truck to take a few pictures and see if I could find anyone to talk to, but the only living thing I found was an old dog who half-heartedly barked a couple of times at me and took a couple of slow, easy steps toward me before deciding I wasn't worth the effort and laid back down. He weren't no trouble. I walked over and scratched him behind the ears a few times.

One interesting little tidbit, the town is named Cherry Spring, but the dance hall is named Cherry Springs. Why? Just because they thought it sounded better.

Cited by the State of Texas Music Office as "one of the most historic dance halls in the world," I hope it's actually open and going strong. I like to think that every Saturday night, out in the middle of nowhere, music is being made, dancing is going on, and people are happy. Whether it is or isn't, it somehow makes me content to think it is. So in my mind, that's the way it is.

(Please click here to read the first post in this series.)