Post Card from Shamrock, Texas

 If you have ever wanted to kiss the Blarney Stone, but haven't because you can't afford an expensive trip to Ireland, Texas has you covered. The town of Shamrock is located in the Panhandle of Texas, just across the border from Oklahoma. In 1890, mail in the area was served by George and Nora Nickel in a dugout on their property. George's Irish mother had often told him to depend on a shamrock to bring him good luck so that's what he named the town. Shamrock loves its Irish heritage so much that in 1959, city leaders managed to buy an actual  piece of the lucky rock from Cork, Ireland's Blarney Castle. 

When the rock was delivered with the authentication papers, they embedded it into a theft-proof concrete pedestal, exposed for anyone who wanted kiss it. Why would anyone want to put their lips to a rock that has now had thousands of other people's lips touch it? Legend has it that when you kiss the Blarney Stone, you will be given the gift of eloquence and persuasiveness. 

Set in an upper wall of Blarney Castle, constructed in 1446 by Dermot McCarthy, King of Munster, the stone, according to popular legend, was originally the stone of Jacob from the Book of Genesis. It was acquired during the Crusades and brought to Ireland. In 1558, Queen Elizabeth 1 decided she wanted the magnificent Blarney Castle (then known as the McCarthy castle) for her own. She sent the Earle of Leicester to seize it, but Cormac McCarthy, the head of the family, had the gift of gab and was so eloquent that he managed to keep stalling the process of turning over his castle to the Queen. The queen became so exasperated by the earl's reports about the lack of progress that she said his reports were all "Blarney." The castle was never turned over to the queen and has since been known as the Blarney Castle. Kissing the Blarney Stone will impart this gift of gab to the kisser.

Today, Shamrock's piece of the Blarney Stone sits in it's pedestal in a small park surrounded by older houses. Unless you intentionally go there to see it and actually walk into the park to find it, you most probably would pay no notice to it. The day I visited, the park was empty except for one little boy who intently watched me as he was slowly swinging back and forth on the old swing set. I took a few pictures of the stone which, apparently bored him so much that he left and walked into a nearby house. Just me and the stone so yes, after wiping it down with a Clorox wipe I retrieved from my truck, I bent over and gave that rock a quick little kiss. I don't think it gave me the rumored gift of gab, but my wife and friends might disagree.

Shamrock slowly grew, especially in the 1920's when oil and gas were discovered in the area. In 1936, the U-Drop Inn was built at the corner of Route 66 and Route 83. It did a booming business as it was the only café within 100 miles of Shamrock. It was considered one of the most beautiful buildings on Route 66, but when the road was decommissioned, it was abandoned and fell into disrepair. In 1997, however, the crumbling building was placed on the National Register of Historic Places and in 1999, the First National Bank of Shamrock purchased it and donated the structure to the city. The city then received a $1.7 million grant from the federal government and a firm specializing in restoring historical buildings was commissioned to bring it back to its former glory. The firm did an excellent job and today it houses a visitor center, a museum, and a gift center as well the city's Chamber of Commerce. It has become an iconic "must stop" for thousands of old Route 66 travelers and is probably most famous for being the inspiration for Ramone's Body Shop in the 2006 movie, "Cars."

Shamrock has never been very big though. Even at its peak there were only 3,778 residents. When Route 66 and the city was bypassed by the construction of I-40, business declined and the population fell to to its current 1,910. It swells considerably however, during its annual St. Patrick's Day Celebration weekend. Held every year since 1938 (except during WW II), the festival marks the end of its "Irish Donegal Beard-growing" contest. Each contestant must provide photographic proof of a stubble-free face as of January 1st. The men then grow as much beard as they can before St. Patrick's Day. Adult males opting not to participate must buy a $5 shaving permit or risk being thrown in jail during the festival! In addition to announcing the year's Ms. Shamrock, activities include a banquet, parade, Irish stew cook-off, antique car show, carnival, arts & crafts, a bull buck-out and more. And a good time is had by all in this little Irish town in Texas.

If you want to learn more about other states Irish traditions, check out my daughters blog post, The Ultimate Guide To The World’s Shortest St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Hot Springs, Arkansas.

The Civil War's Tallest Soldier

(Historical Photo)

Henry Clay Thruston was born on May 4, 1830 in Greenville, South Carolina. He grew to 7 feet, 7 ½ inches by the time he was 19. Henry was the youngest of 5 brothers, all of whom were over 6 feet tall. His parents moved the family to Missouri soon after he was born and except for the notoriety of the boys being so tall, they lived a quiet, uneventful life. In 1850, Henry moved to California to try his hand at gold mining, but soon came back home to Missouri where, at age 23, he married Mary Thruston, a distant cousin. He began traveling with the P.T. Barnum show where he was billed as “The Missouri Giant” or, while traveling through Texas, “The Texas Giant” and “The Tallest Man in the World.” While touring in the south, he would lead the circus parade wearing a large “Stars and Bars” flag draped around his shoulders, but when the circus was in the northern states, he dressed as “Uncle Sam” and wore the “Old Glory” flag.

By the time the Civil War broke out, Henry and Mary had four children. When Union General Lyons invaded Missouri in February 1861, he broke up the State Legislature and drove the Governor, Claiborne F. Jackson, from the Capitol. He also took prisoners a company of State Guards in St. Louis, shot down women and children in the streets, and proclaimed that “the blood of women and children should run as water” before Missouri should go out of the Union. The Thruston family held strong views regarding state’s rights and upon the actions of General Lyons and his troops, Henry and two of his brothers joined the Morgan County Rangers, a unit of the Missouri State Guards. Henry remained with the State Guards, participating in several small battles until after the battle of Pea Ridge where his well-loved nephew, Joe Thurston, was killed. Henry then quit the State Guards and joined the Confederate Army, serving as a private under Col. John Q. Burbridge in the 4th Missouri Cavalry.

One day, Henry and a small group of soldiers were far in front of the Rebel lines serving as scouts when they came upon a farmhouse. As they approached, a young woman broke out of the house yelling, “Watch out! The woods are full of Yanks!” A major in charge of the Union troops came running out of the house and aimed his rifle at the woman. Before he could shoot however, Henry stood up, fired his rifle and mortally wounded the major. The remaining Union troops ran from the house and retreated into the woods. While giving aid to the wounded Yankee major, he kept saying, “A Reb standing upon a tree stump shot me.”

(Historical Photo)

On another occasion, the two sides were dug in just yards apart on either side of a pasture. At night, the men would shout at each other across the field. The Union men told the southerners they better watch out as they had a giant on their side and he would be coming to destroy them. The Rebs shouted back they had a giant as well and their giant was undoubtedly bigger. To settle the argument, the two sides agreed on a truce for the next day to settle who had the bigger giant. At the appointed hour, Yanks and Rebs left their guns behind, met in the middle of the pasture and the two “giants” were stood back-to-back.  The Union giant was only 6’10 1/2” and Henry, at 7’7 ½” was clearly taller. The Yanks had to admit the Reb giant was bigger. Afterward, for the rest of the hour of peace, the men swapped each other for food, tobacco, clothing items and gave each other news of what was happening elsewhere. It was reported that at least one set of brothers one Yank and one Reb, found each other and spent the hour in tears while hugging and talking about their parents and relatives back home. At the end of the hour, each side turned and went back to their lines. The rest of the day was peaceful, but early the next morning, a Union soldier shouted, “Duck your heads, Rebs! Here we come!” The Yankees then charged the Rebel lines and the death and horror of war resumed.

Henry survived that battle and several others as well. A few months later, he was standing in the second line of a formation for the colonel to “inspect the troops.” The command “Attention” was given. The colonel looked at the lines of men and shouted “Attention” himself, but when nobody moved, he drew his saber, ran straight at Thruston yelling, “By God, I will make you obey orders! Get off that stump now!” Henry said, “Sir, I’m not standing on a stump. I’m standing on the ground.” Getting close enough to see that Thruston was indeed just standing on the ground, the Colonel said, “My God, how the Yankees haven’t killed a target as big as you is unbelievable.”

 Later in the war, Henry was serving in the cavalry under Major-General Sterling Price who was raiding across Arkansas, Kansas and Missouri in what was called “Price’s Raid.” It was during this campaign in 1864 when, amazingly, a mini-ball grazed the top of his head. He later said, “It didn’t hurt much and only parted my hair.” It was at another battle in Arkansas in 1864 that Henry’s incredible luck ran out. He was seriously wounded in the side and was captured by Yankee forces. A Union doctor managed to remove the bullet and eventually, Henry made a full recovery. He remained a prisoner of war until being paroled in June 1865 after the war ended.

After the war, Thruston reunited with his family in Missouri and soon migrated southwest to Texas, stopping when he got to Titus County. He bought 100 acres east of Mount Vernon and spent most of the rest of his life farming and occasionally touring once again with Barnum and Bailey circus. While touring with the circus this time, he took to wearing a tall beaver hat, high-top boots and a long coat which made him look ten feet tall. Thousands of people came to see and talk with “The World’s Tallest Man.”

Henry’s wife Mary died on September 23, 1891. Several years later, in declining health, he moved in with his son Edward who lived in Mt. Vernon, Texas. Henry always attended the Confederate Reunions and was always the center of attention for everyone in attendance. Shortly after his return from the reunion in Memphis, Tennessee, the Civil War’s tallest soldier died on Friday, July 2, 1909. He was 79 years old. He is buried next to his wife and two of their sons in the old Edward’s Cemetery in Mt. Pleasant, Texas.

Henry Thruston home. Now restored
and serves as the Mt. Vernon
Visitor's Center.

Omar Locklear - Daredevil Extraordinaire

 

Omar Locklear, 1919
(historical photo)

In Greenwood Cemetery in Fort Worth is a nondescript grave with nothing to distinguish it from all the other graves. Well, except for the large Texas Historical marker next to it. Here lies Omar Leslie "Lock" Locklear. Few people know of him now, but during his short life, he was the world's greatest stuntman, a fearless daredevil, the man who invented wing-walking and the first to transfer from one plane to another while in flight.

Born in Greenville, Texas on October 28, 1891, he was raised in Ft. Worth after his parents moved there in the early 1900s. In 1911, Calbraith Rodgers landed his plane in a nearby field to clear a clogged fuel line. Locklear witnessed the landing, ran to meet Rodgers and to see the plane up close. From that point on, he was intensely fascinated with aviation and airplanes. 

"Lock," as he came to be called, joined the Army Air Corps in October 1917. He was such a gifted pilot that he was made a flight instructor in WWI. He was well-known for leaving the cockpit during flight and crawling along the wings or fuselage back to the tail section to make in-flight repairs when necessary. After the war ended in 1918, Omar happened to see a barnstorming air show and marveled at how the spectators cheered and gave money to the pilots and how the women were enamored of them. He also quickly realized his own regular flying exploits were much more impressive. 

He left the Army in early 1919 and along with two of his colleagues and a manager, acquired airplanes and formed their own flying show, "The Locklear Flying Circus." It was a huge success and with Locklear as the star, the men became wealthy. In addition to stunts such as wing-walking and doing headstands on the top wing of his Curtiss Jenny biplane, Omar perfected the death-defying stunts of jumping from one airplane to another and the "Dance of Death" in which he and another pilot in a different airplane would switch places while in mid-air.

(Historical photo)

The "Locklear Flying Circus" became such a hit that Hollywood came calling. Locklear moved to California and was hired to be a stuntman in movies. He soon was being billed as the foremost "aviation stuntman in the world." The first movie featuring Omar as the star was "The Great Air Robbery," a film about pilots flying air mail. In the movie, "Lock" performed his famous airplane-to-airplane transfer and a stunt where he transferred from a flying plane to a speeding automobile and then back to the plane moments before the car crashed. The film was a commercial success and he was soon hired to star in a second film, "The Skywayman," about an American ace battling against German pilots in World War I.

Filming began on June 11, 1920, and, until the final scene was recorded on August 2nd, there were problems. Two of Lock's stunts, one where a church steeple was toppled by his plane and another where he transferred from a flying plane to a speeding train, took a number of takes and almost ended in disaster. On the last scheduled day of filming, Omar was to be in a nighttime spin, pulling out to safety at the last second. The night before filming, Lock told his girlfriend, actress Viola Dana, that he had an uneasy feeling about the next day and gave her some of his personal possessions. The scene was originally scheduled to take place in the daytime with red filters on the camera lenses to simulate darkness, but Omar demanded he be allowed to perform the stunt at night for realism. 

(Historical photo)

Large studio arc lights were set up to illuminate Omar and his plane. The lights were set to turn off when he reached 1,000 feet so he would know where he was at and be able to recover from the downward spin. The dive toward an oil derrick was intended to make it appear in the movie that he crashed into the derrick. As Viola Dana, numerous spectators and the full film crew watched, Omar performed several preliminary aerial maneuvers with lit flares to simulate the plane being on fire. Lock then signaled he was ready to begin the spinning dive. For some reason, mechanical or human error, the bright lights did not go off as planned and remained on, blinding Omar and his long-time co-pilot, "Skeets" Elliot. Instead of correcting the spin at 1,000 feet, they started at 200 feet, not nearly enough time to be successful. The plane crashed nose-first into a sludge pool of oil next to the derrick and the lit flares caused an immediate explosion, killing both men instantly.

The crash so horrified Viola that she refused to get on an airplane for the next 25 years. With the entire film having been completed except for the night scene, the movie's studio, Fox, decided to cash in on the fatal crash and rushed the film's release. With advertising proclaiming "Every inch of film showing Locklear's spectacular and fatal last flight, his death-defying feats and a close-up of his spectacular crash to earth," the movie was released to theatres just a month later.

Omar Locklear's remains were brought back to Fort Worth's Greenwood Cemetery where "the world's foremost aviation daredevil" was laid to rest.

Remember Goliad

Most people in America and even a goodly number of people around the world know the phrase, "Remember the Alamo!" Few people outside of Texas know "Remember Goliad!" Both of these phrases were shouted by the Texan forces on Aril 21, 1836, as they launched a surprise attack on the Mexican forces who were enjoying their siesta. Although outnumbered, the Texans, led by General Sam Houston caught General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna's army totally unprepared for battle and completely routed them. Only 9 Texans were killed and 26 wounded in the engagement while there were 630 Mexicans killed, 208 wounded, and 703 captured, including the president of Mexico, Santa Anna. Texas won its independence and became a nation on that day.

What gave the Texan troops such a thirst for revenge that they showed little mercy even when Santa Anna's troops were running away? There was, of course, the Alamo, where Santa Anna proclaimed there would be no mercy shown to Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, William Barret Travis, and the other 179 Texas defenders. He commanded his men to put to death everyone and when his men brought him a handful of captured male survivors, he ordered they be bayonetted to death. He then ordered all 182 bodies to be burned in a huge pyre and let a couple of women, children, and one male servant survive in order to spread the word that nobody should stand against him.

After the fall of the Alamo, a Mexican force of 1,400 men led by Santa Anna's chief lieutenant, General Jose de Urrea, continued to march east toward the Presidio in Goliad where Colonel James Fannin commanded 400 men. Sam Houston ordered the Texans to move to Victoria, a more defendable position on the other side of the Guadalupe River. For some reason, Fannin hesitated for several days, and then when he did begin the move, they ran into the main body of the Mexican troops while crossing an open prairie. After fending off four separate attacks on the first day, the Texans spent that night digging trenches. However, in the morning they found they were now totally surrounded by the enemy. Almost out of ammunition, Fannin asked for a parley to prevent his troops from being massacred. General Urrea promised the Texans would be treated as prisoners of war and given clemency. Upon surrender, the Texans were marched back to the Presidio at Goliad and placed under the watchful eyes of Nicolas de la Portilla and his detachment of men while Urrea and his remaining troops continued their march south. 

Santa Anna, however, was determined to fight a war of extermination and ordered Portilla to execute the prisoners. Having conflicting orders from General Urrea and General Santa Anna, Portilla chose to follow Santa Anna's orders. 

On March 27, the prisoners were divided into quarters. While the sick and wounded remained in the chapel, the other three groups were escorted on different roads out of town. The three groups were told they were on missions to gather wood, drive cattle or sail to safety in New Orleans. Believing their captors, the rebels joked and swapped stories as they walked along. When they were ordered to halt a half-mile from the fort, however, the Texans realized their fates. The Mexican guards opened fire as some of the men began running for their lives. Those not killed by gunshots were slaughtered with bayonets. Back at the presidio, the Mexicans stood the wounded against the chapel wall and executed them. Those too wounded to stand were shot in their beds. Fannin, who had been shot in the thigh during the original engagement, was the last to be killed. His three dying wishes were to be shot in the chest, given a Christian burial, and have his watch sent to his family. Instead, Portilla shot Fannin in the face, burned his body with the others, and kept the timepiece as a war prize. In all, nearly 350 men were killed at Goliad.

Santa Anna's treatment of the captured soldiers had the opposite effect of what he intended. He was no longer seen as a brilliant military strategist but a cruel despot. The Goliad Massacre hardened attitudes toward Santa Anna throughout the United States and inflamed and unified the Texas resistance. Less than a month later at the battle of San Jacinto, Sam Houston's men won independence for Texas with the battle cries of "Remember the Alamo" and "Remember Goliad" ringing throughout the Mexican camp.  

Today, almost 185 years later, the old presidio and its adjacent Chapel of our Lady of Loreto still stand. Given the horrific events that happened within and around the site, is it any wonder the walls sometimes echo with the mournful sounds of spirits returning from that troubled and turbulent time? 

Visitors often report feeling "cold spots" and uneasy feelings as they walk around the grounds where Fannin and his men were executed. In 1992, a man named Jim reported strange goings-on. As a former deputy sheriff and a security guard for a number of years, Jim was not a man easily frightened or prone to make up wild stories. Hired for a few nights to watch over some equipment at the presidio that was to be used for the Cattle Baron's Ball, he expected quiet routine nights. On his first night though, just before midnight, the silence was broken by the "eerie, shrill cries of nearly a dozen terrified infants." He swore the sounds indicated "pain and suffering." Although understandably frightened, he tried to find where the sounds were coming from. After several long minutes, he finally determined they were coming from one of the dozen or so unmarked graves that are located near the Chapel of Our Lady of Loreto.

As he shined his flashlight on the spot, the cries abruptly stopped but were immediately replaced by the singing of a women's choir. It sounded like it was coming from the back wall of the old fort, but the beam of his flashlight revealed nothing there. After two or three minutes, the singing stopped and silence returned for the rest of the night. When Jim reported his experience, he was teased by his co-workers, but he is convinced what he saw and heard was real and besides, he is not the only person to report strange things in and around the presidio.

Numerous people have reported seeing a strange, 4-foot-tall friar who suddenly appears by the double doors leading into the chapel. His robes are black, tied around his waist with a rope and his face is concealed with a hood. He then walks barefooted to each corner of the church and seems to bless it before walking to the center of the quadrangle and begins to pray in Latin. 

A woman in a white dress has been reported kneeling and crying by the graves of the children. When seen, she then turns and looks directly at the person before gliding over to a wall and vanishing. A beautiful soprano voice is often heard emanating from one particular room, but upon investigation, there is nobody in the small space. Visitors who stay late often come back from the fort and comment to the staff about the historical reenactors even though there are no reenactors on the property that day. 

It seems there are many restless spirits here. Who are the crying babies? Are they the little lost souls of pioneer infants killed by Indians in a raid or was there an epidemic that took their too-short lives. The woman in white - is her own child buried in one of the unmarked graves? Why does the short friar keep returning? Is his soul in turmoil over so many brave men who were brutally executed? Whose souls are eternally singing beautiful hymns in a choir, unable to leave this chapel? Caught in a timeless web, so many lost souls searching, sorrowing, singing, praying, unable to let go of the life they briefly lived in a little town named Goliad.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre House

 Somehow, years ago, I was talked into watching the movie "Texas Chainsaw Massacre." It is not a fond memory. It has been called one of the most important horror movies ever made. I wouldn't know about that since it is one of only five "horror" movies I've ever seen. The other four I consider horror movies were not even close to Texas Chainsaw Massacre and its tale of a chainsaw welding maniac and his cannibal family. I hated what I saw of it. My eyes were closed most of the time. Originally a farmhouse built in 1909 in Round Rock, Texas, it became an iconic element in the movie. If you've never seen it, the words "chainsaw massacre" will give you an idea of what happens in and around the house.

I kind of forgot about the movie over the years, only remembering when a sequel or prequel of the Leatherface franchise would come out. But then I heard the house in the movie had been made into a restaurant. Now we're talking!

In 1998, the house was cut into pieces, hauled to Kingsland, Texas and put back together as part of the famous Antlers Hotel. It was completely renovated and became the Grand Central Café and Club Car Bar. I found it while on one of my road trips in Texas. Naturally, I couldn't pass up eating a meal in the cannibals' house.

Pulling up to it, the house is not near as scary as it appeared in the movie. There was a short line of people waiting so I gave my name and waited out on the wide covered porch. I didn't have to wait long before being called inside. Walking across the wooden floor, I was shown into a small room which served as one of the dining rooms. A very nice and informative waitress quickly arrived, gave me a menu and began reciting scenes in the movie that had been shot in this very room. She also told me there were a number of artifacts upstairs from the movie and I was welcome to go up and see them.

A large cheeseburger and a huge mound of fries arrived. Appropriate to the location, a large knife was stabbed into the middle of the burger. It was enough food for two people. The burger was perfect - juicy meat in buns that had just a touch of crisp on the inside and the fries were scrumptious. It was a top-10 burger on my scale! My waitress came back often to check on me and the couple at the next table and I struck up a fun, interesting conversation about the movie, the house and the food.

After doing as much damage as I could to that huge mound of fries, I made my way up the creaky wooden stairs. There were plenty of paraphernalia from the movie, with pictures of the characters and stills hanging on the walls. I didn't spend much time up there as it brought back uncomfortable memories and was a bit spooky as well, but you know what? If I'm ever back in Kingsland, I'll be going there again for the wonderful food. And maybe this time, I'll have a steak, rare.

Postcard From Lost Maples

Lost Maples State Natural Area is located about 70 miles northwest of San Antonio, Texas in the southern Hill Country area and is most famous for the beautiful colors it exhibits each fall. The preserve is a Texas State Natural Area rather than a state park which means the primary focus is protection of the park's natural undeveloped state. All of its nearly 3,000 acres are therefore restricted from recreational vehicles and access is controlled. Only hiking (and of course, photography) on its 11 miles of trails and a few overnight campers are allowed.   

Lost Maples got its name for a large stand of Big Tooth Maple trees. Rather strange is Maple trees have a very hard time surviving in West Texas. No one knows exactly where these came from or how they got here as they are so far removed from any other Maple trees that they are considered "lost." The fortuitous combination of persistent water and high limestone walls have given protection to them since ancient times.

In addition to the Maples, Little walnut, sycamore, Texas oaks and Lacey oaks cover the area and add to the wonderful fall colors. A bubbling stream adds to the beauty of the park and gives a relaxing background for hikers. 

The park is a wonderful place to visit any time of the year, but the fall season, typically from mid-October through November, is the most popular and therefore the most crowded, especially on weekends. If you are looking for more solitude and relaxation, visit the park mid-week. My visit was on a Wednesday and there were many long stretches of trail  where I never encountered another person. If you go (and you really should make the effort), please follow the "Leave No Trace" wilderness code.

Postcard From The Last Picture Show & Beyond

(Continued from road trip post 7)   (Go to the first post of this series)

The wives were expecting us home in a couple of days and we were about 500 miles away with more planned stops along the road ahead so we got up pretty early, ate a quick breakfast and headed west to the nice little town of Eastland, Texas.

From 1957 until 1968, Marene Johnson Johnson ( yes, that's her name) served as the Eastland postmaster. For seven years, once all mailboxes were filled and the packages delivered, Marene worked on her pet project - a giant mural made entirely of postage stamps. When she was finished, she gave up her postmaster job and left the mural, all 11,217 stamps of it, for future patrons to gaze upon and admire.

The Eastland Post Office Mural

The centerpiece of the mural is a replica of the United Nations seal surrounded by stamps from around the world. She also created portraits of Abraham Lincoln and Benjamin Franklin (America's 1st postmaster general), a map of Texas and the Confederate flag. Putting a final touch to her work, she surrounded all of it in a frame of yellow roses. It's not a thing that blows your socks off, but it sure is interesting to stand there and contemplate how much work went into it, how much patience and perseverance it must have taken and what a unique talent Marene Johnson Johnson possessed. 

Putting Eastland in our rearview mirror, we headed west on Hwy 6 for a short 10 mile drive to Cisco and the site of the infamous Santa Claus Bank Robbery. At the time it occurred, the Santa Claus Bank Robbery led to the largest manhunt ever seen in Texas.

On December 23, 1927, around noon, ex-cons Marshall Ratliff, Henry Helms, Robert Hill and Louis Davis held up the First National Bank in Cisco. The four men met in Wichita Falls while planning the crime and on the morning of the 23rd, they stole a car and headed for Cisco, about 120 miles away. Arriving just before noon, they were ready to make themselves some easy money.

During this time period, three or four Texas banks a day were being robbed. In response, the Texas Bankers Association offered a $5,000 reward to anyone shooting a bank robber during the crime. This reward helped turn a simple bank robbery into a deadly crime. As the group neared the bank, Ratliff donned a Santa Claus suit he had borrowed from Mrs. Midge Tellet who ran the boarding house where they had been staying in Wichita Falls. Ratliff got out of the car several blocks from the bank and a few minutes later, followed by children attracted to Santa, he joined the other three in an alley and led the way into the bank. As Santa entered, he drew all eyes toward him as a distraction. Several seconds later, the other three drew their guns shouting "This is a holdup!" While they covered the customers and employees, Santa grabbed money from the tellers and forced one to open the vault. Mrs. B. P. Blassengame and her daughter entered the bank while the holdup was in progress and seeing what was happening, she grabbed her daughter's hand and ran back out of the door. She began screaming for help, alerting most of the citizenry as well as Chief of Police G. E. (Bit) Bedford, who just happened to be nearby.

Several minutes later, Santa (Ratliff) had filled his sack with money and came out of the vault. Seeing someone outside, Hill fired a shot through the window. A shot was returned. Hill fired several more shots and then a fusillade of gunfire began as many citizens who owned guns were now outside the bank. The robbers forced all of the people in the bank out the door towards their car. Several of the hostages were wounded as they emerged into the alley, but most managed to escape. Two small girls, Laverne Comer and Emma May Robertson, did not break away and were taken as hostages. In a shootout in the alley, as the robbers tried to get to their car, Chief Bedford and Deputy George Carmichael were mortally wounded. Ratliff, still dressed as Santa, was slightly wounded while Davis was severely wounded.

As the four began their escape with their hostages, they realized they had neglected to get gas for the car and it was almost empty. To make matters worse, before exiting the alley, one of the tires was shot out. They drove to the edge of town, pursued by the mob, and attempted to commandeer an Oldsmobile belonging to the Harris family. Fourteen-year-old Woody, who was driving, gave them the car but ran away with the keys. The robbers transferred their things to the Oldsmobile in the midst of gunfire which wounded Hill, only to realize they could not start the car. Davis was by then unconscious and close to death, so they left him in the car and moved back to the first car with their two hostages. It was not until later they realized they had left the stolen money with Davis.

The First National Bank of Cisco building still stands today

The mob found Davis and the money and temporarily gave up the chase. The money, $12,400 in cash and $150,000 in securities, was returned to the bank which had an estimated 225 bullet holes in the walls. Besides the two police officers, there had been six townspeople wounded in the shootout, but no one was sure whether the robbers or the mob was responsible.

The robbers abandoned the bullet-ridden car and the two girls several miles from town and continued on foot. They stole another car the next morning and managed to evade the search parties for a while, until they wrecked the car near Putnam. They commandeered a vehicle driven by Carl Wylie, forcing him to drive and taking him hostage for twenty-four hours. They then let Wylie have his car back and stole another car.

The two wounded men, especially Ratliff, who by now had discarded his Santa suit, were doing very poorly due to their wounds, lack of food, and the icy, sleeting conditions. Eventually, the threesome was ambushed by Sheriff Foster of Young County at South Bend as they tried to cross the Brazos River. Another car chase followed with a shootout in a field as the three tried to make their escape. Cy Bradford, a Texas Ranger, hit all three men with his 6 shots. Ratliff was hit and fell to the ground. Helms and Hill were both wounded, but they managed to escape into the woods. Several days later, after dodging an intense manhunt assisted by an airplane, the two made it into Graham and peacefully surrendered. Two more men had been wounded in the manhunt bringing the total number of wounded to eight, not counting the three surviving robbers.

Helms, Hill, and Ratliff had several wounds apiece and had not eaten for days. All survived however, and soon faced trials. Hill pleaded guilty to armed robbery and in March was sentenced to 99 years in prison. He escaped from prison three times but was recaptured each time. After settling down, he was paroled in the mid-1940s, changed his name, and became a law-abiding citizen. Helms was identified as the one who had gunned down both lawmen and was given the death sentence in late February. After an unsuccessful insanity plea, he was executed by electric chair on September 6, 1929. "Santa" Ratliff was first convicted of armed robbery on January 27, 1928, and sentenced to 99 years in prison. On March 30, he was sentenced to execution for his role in the deaths of Bedford and Carmichael, although no one could testify to having seen him fire a gun in the bank. Ratliff appealed his case, going for an insanity plea. He had begun acting insane the day that Helms was executed, and thoroughly convinced his jailers that he was. His mother, Rilla Carter, filed for a lunacy hearing in Huntsville. However, the citizens of Eastland County were infuriated that he had not been executed yet, and even further aggravated to know that Ratliff was attempting the insanity plea. For his safety, he was transferred to the Eastland County jail. While there, he convinced his jailers that he really was insane as they had to feed him, bathe him, and take him to the toilet.

On November 18, Ratliff attempted to escape, killing Tom Jones in the process. He was quickly recaptured and put back in jail. A crowd began to gather the next morning and by nightfall had grown to over 1,000. They began demanding Ratliff be given to them. The sheriff refused but was overpowered as the mob rushed in and found Ratliff. Dragging him out, they tied his hands and feet and headed for a nearby power pole. The first attempt to hang him failed when the knot came loose and he fell to the ground. The second time, however, the knot held. Ratliff was pronounced dead at 9:55 P.M. on November 19. Jones' death brought the total number of dead, including three bank robbers, to six. No one was ever tried in association with the lynching, even though a grand jury was formed, as nobody came forward as a witness. The whole town declared they had not seen anything.

Leaving Cisco, we jumped on Hwy 183 north for 29 miles to Breckenridge to see a large mural painted on the side of a building. Tiny mirrors were mixed with the paint so the sign would sparkle in the sunlight. We also intended to see Breckenridge Aviation Museum's collection of World War II airplanes and memorabilia. Plus, there was an intriguing little sculpture generally known as a "Purple People Eater" thingy in a farmer's field just outside of town. I love road kitsch, offbeat Americana, roadside attractions. How could I pass up something with a name like that? Plus, in general, it's on our back roads route home so why not?

Where's the sparkles?

Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned. We arrived on a Sunday only to find the museum is not open on Sunday unless you call several days ahead to make arrangements. We did find the mural and it was indeed very large and it did indeed have little, tiny mirrors embedded in the paint. I expected to see this really cool, sparkling painting, but I'm afraid it didn't live up to my expectations. Even in bright sun on a cloudless day, the sparkles were minimal and you had to get up close and tilt your head on an angle to see the sparkles at all. Maybe in it's youthful heyday it was much more, but now that it's older, it has lost some of its vitality and sparkle. And we never saw the Purple People Eater thingy. I later found out the last time somebody reported seeing it was three years earlier and it had started to rust. A lot of things can happen in three years. I'm sure Breckenridge is a wonderful town with a lot of wonderful, happy folks living there, but I'm afraid we drove there excited and drove away disappointed.

The Royal Theatre

We took Breckenridge in stride as we are road tripper experienced enough to know not everything is as exciting when you get there as it was when you were just thinking about it. Sure enough, our mood began to lighten again as soon as we got on our way to our next destination - Archer City, home of Larry McMurtry and the town where "The Last Picture Show" was filmed. "The Last Picture Show" earned 8 academy award nominations and won two. The movie has been rated as a top 100 movies of all time. The film critic Roger Ebert gave it four stars out of four and named it the best film of 1971. He added it to his "Great Movies List" writing, "the film is above all an evocation of mood. It is about a town with no reason to exist and people with no reason to live there. The only hope is transgression."

We had another disappointment when we found McMurtry's bookstore was closed. Over a few years, he opened four bookstores in Archer City and stocked them with over 400,000 fine and scholarly books he had hand-picked for his personal collection. When he turned 76 years old and none of his children expressed any interest in operating a bookstore, he decided to sell 300,000 books at auction. The auction was a huge success and he closed 3 of the stores. Now there is only one left which contains between 150,000 and 200,000 books. As most of the sales now come from online orders, he also reduced the time the store is open to only 4 hours per day, Thursday through Saturday . 

The blinking yellow light

The Royal Theatre, which plays a major part in the movie is still there. At least the front is. Not many people know in real life, the back half of the theater burned down in 1965 and it has never been rebuilt. With its closure, the heart of the town was lost. The movie, released in 1971, used the front of the movie house, but filmed the interior scenes in a theater in Olney, a town a few miles south of Archer City. The blinking yellow light is also often seen throughout the movie and it is still there, still blinking. The whole time we were there,  we saw just three or four people and very few cars. Even on a Sunday, with a population of 1,700, you would think there would be more life, but when the oil crash hit and McMurtry closed his bookstores, I got the feeling the town has actually taken on the rather sad life of Anarene, the name given to it in the movie. If you haven't seen "The Last Picture Show," I strongly recommend it.

Always happy on a road trip!

 And with that, it was time to head back home, a distance of about 475 miles. It was already afternoon by the time we left, so we'll stop in Wichita Falls, Texas for a bite to eat and find a hotel room for our last night on the road. Between Archer City and Wichita Falls however, is the interesting little ghost town of Mankins. We had just enough daylight hours left to stop by there. Why go by Mankins? Because it is the only place in Texas, perhaps even the nation, where a monkey crossing the road was hit and killed by a car! To read all about Mankins and that poor monkey, click here.

Postcard From The Middle Of Nowhere Texas

Continued from (road trip post 6)    (Go to the 1st post here)

The Fredericksburg Comfort Inn was actually better than expected and at a decent price - clean, good wifi, good shower and a comfortable bed. From our experience, Comfort Inns range from good to "never again" so this one goes on our "Acceptable" list. Of course, the fact that it was rather late when we checked in after a frustrating afternoon and evening (see previous post here), plus the fact we were both very tired probably had some bearing on a good night's sleep. After partaking of the pretty decent "free" breakfast and a fill up for the truck, we pointed her northwest on Highway 87 to Koockville where we caught Hwy 29 to Menard and then jumped on Hwy 83 North toward Eden. An interesting side note about Eden, Texas - the population is 2,560, but about 1,300 of those residents are inmates at the Eden Detention Center, a for-profit prison under contract to the Feds. Once past Eden, staying on Hwy 83, we might not have been in the middle of nowhere, but we could see it from there.

The pasture in front of the museum with a couple of
railroad cars and inoperable windmills

After miles of open spaces and seeing almost no other cars, we came to the intersection with FM 765, a little 2-lane black-top road. Going west on this road, after a few more miles of nothing but stunted mesquite trees, widely dispersed farm houses, a few cows and wide open spaces, it became just a hard-packed dirt road. Now we were definitely in the middle of nowhere! We eventually saw a sign nailed onto a fencepost that announced we would reach our destination after a short drive down a private, dirt road past a herd of Longhorns - The Barrow Ranch Museum. 

So far out in the boonies that you have to be going there to get there, we had found a most fascinating collection of "stuff." Ernest and Dorothy Barrow constructed 3 very large metal buildings around their house to hold over forty years of collections from their extensive travels and donations from their many friends. Ernest and Dorothy are both gone now, but before their passing, they set up a non-profit foundation with a Board of Directors in order to keep the museum open to the public and to provide funds for its upkeep. To that end, entrance is free, but a donation is requested.

Pulling up to what appeared to be a working ranch house, we parked in a small gravel parking lot. Besides a few longhorns milling around watching us, it appeared we were the only living things in the vicinity. There were a couple of railroad cars and non-functioning windmills sitting in the field with the longhorns, several old tractors and a good bit of old, rusted metal pieces from farm implements just laying around the grounds. It was eerily quiet. There were no signs saying "Enter Here," no doors marked "Entrance" and nobody to greet us. Just as we were about to get back in the truck and leave, an older gentleman came from the house and asked if we were there to see the museum.

He introduced himself as Gary Glass, caretaker of the ranch and museum. Gary has worked on this ranch for over 40 years, helped build the museum buildings and has many interesting stories to tell, which he is more than happy to do. He gave us a personal tour of each building and talked about most every item. Except for a few questions, we rarely were able to get a word in, but he was so interesting, we didn't mind. I can understand that. It's very quiet and must be very lonely out there. He said there's very few visitors so he really enjoys it when somebody shows up.

He invited us to follow him into a huge metal building which we found held an amazing amount of, well, of "stuff." It can only be described as a hoarder's vast collection of things. From early-American dining rooms to a 1950's soda fountain to old pump organs, antique washing machines, radios, record players and archeological artifacts, the groupings made no sense. The world's largest collection of Indian arrowheads (about 15,000 in all), old west rifles and guns sit next to gems, mineral specimens and sea shells.

Once we made it through this building, Gary led us to a large second building (he told us that when they ran out of room in one building, they would just build another one) that was just as full of things as the first! A vast collection of china and Oriental carvings was displayed next to World War II memorabilia which included captured German and Japanese flags.  Old dolls and dozens of Hummel figurines sat next to medical and dental tools and stuffed animals. The 3rd building contained mostly farm implements, drilling equipment, old cars, an antique fire truck and odds 'n ends such as some kind of farm implement embedded in a tree stump which had grown up around it. As we finished this last building, Gary led us outside and pointed out what each of the rusted items in the yard were along with a few more stories about life on the ranch.

The old soda fountain inside the museum

We were there for about 2 hours and enjoyed all of it, but even today, I still am overwhelmed at the number of items in those buildings. Just as we said goodbye to Gary, another car with a man and woman drove up an parked next to us. Gary's face seemed to light up and with a smile he asked the new arrivals, "Are you here to see the museum?"

Seeing as how it was time for lunch, we headed to Balinger and the infamous haunted Gonzalez Restaurant for a good Tex-Mex meal. Bad, bad decision. When we arrived, the only customers were just one family of 4 in the whole place. That normally is a big warning sign, but what the heck, Chip and I both love Tex-Mex cuisine and we're here so we might as well partake of the buffet and who knows, maybe we'll even see the ghost everyone calls Norton.

Entrance to Gonzalez Restaurant

According to legend, a local outlaw was spotted in town and the police gave chase. He ended up hiding inside the restaurant, but the police found him and when he pulled a gun, they shot him dead right there inside the building. Since then, staff and customers have claimed to see a ghostly apparition wearing cowboy clothing, sometimes walking through walls. Norton also moves things around, especially dishes, silverware, salt shakers and cooking implements. Often, people will experience unexplained cold spots within the building and some have reported an invisible hand touching their necks and arms.

As we walked in, we were greeted by an older Hispanic lady who showed us to a table. We ordered tea and said we would have the buffet. I cannot tell you in strong enough terms just how bad the food was. The crumbled beef was a sickish, gray color and it tasted like wet chicken feathers. The chicken looked disgusting enough that I didn't touch it. The refried beans were the same color as the beef and was the consistency of soup. The lettuce for a salad tasted like it had been cut and then left open in the refrigerator for three days. The best thing on the whole buffet was the rice, which was passable. When we returned to our table, we found a bowl of cold, greasy chips and a bland salsa that was obviously straight out of a can.

No customers at 1:00pm on a Saturday should
have given us a warning

I have dozens of road trips under my belt as well as numerous vacations and hundreds of business-related travels where I have eaten at least 2 and often 3 times a day in restaurants, cafe's, dinners, hotels, bars, bowling alleys and dance halls. This one stands out above all those places as the number one worst meal! And the really weird thing was the one lady who was the greeter, waitress and cashier (we never saw another staff person) sat down across the empty room and stared at us the whole time. She never came over to check on us, never said a word, rarely blinked...just sat there staring at us.

The buffet line

I'm not a picky eater, but I couldn't eat most of the buffet food so I made a small meal of rice and flour tortillas. Chip didn't think the food was as bad as I did, but I noted he didn't go back for seconds. When we got up to leave, our staring friend got up and took our money. She never smiled, but at least she did say thank you. We left feeling ripped off, still hungry and we never did see Norton.

Backtracking south on Hwy 83 for about 12 miles, we then went east on Hwy 1929 until after a few twists and turns on several other small 2-lane Farm-to-Market roads, we reached the town of Mercury. Founded in 1904 when the Fort Worth and Rio Grand Railroad reached this point. Mercury soon became a bustling livestock shipping point and by 1914 it had over 550 citizens and a number of commercial businesses. A major fire burned down most of the town's buildings in 1919. In 1929, just as the town's business came back to where it was before the fire, another fire once again destroyed most of the buildings and the town never recovered. Growth stopped and when a major highway bypassed the community in 1938, Mercury began to decline. By 1940, the post office was discontinued and most businesses closed. The final nail in the town's coffin came in 1949 when the Mercury schools closed. Today it is a virtual ghost town with a scattered population of about 150 people living in the area.

So why did we drive through Mercury? Because just south of the town is the geographical center of Texas! Being a native Texan, I just couldn't resist. There is a historical marker on Hwy 377 about 2 miles south of Mercury, but the marker is not exactly where the center of Texas is located. The actual center is at N 31° 23.492 W 099° 10.238 which is about 5 miles away, but you can't go there because it is on private property and in Texas, that means no trespassing or you just might find yourself trying to outrun a load of buckshot! Neither Chip nor I got to be as old as we are by being fools so we made it to the historical marker and called it good enough.

We had just enough time left in the day to visit a place on my Texas bucket list - the Regency Bridge. If you are as big of a fan of the TV show Texas Country Reporter as I am, then you are familiar with the Regency Bridge because it is the bridge they drive over during the opening and closing segments of the show. The 325-foot, one-way, wood-surfaced  bridge is located in a very rural area at the intersection of two gravel roads - Mills County Road 433 and San Saba County Road 137. It's another place where you have to be going there to get there. You most probably won't find it by accident. The local farmers and ranchers call it "the swinging bridge" because as you cross, it swings from side-to-side and rolls up and down - rather disconcerting, but evidently safe as it has never collapsed. I posted an earlier blog entry about the bridge which you can read here.

Regency Bridge aka The Swinging Bridge

We were done for the day and it was about time to head on back home. We'll be stopping at a few more interesting places along the way, but for this night,  there was a room waiting for us at the Holiday Inn Express in Stephenville.