Heavener Rune Stone

No longer a state park, but the sign still
points the way.

Did Vikings visit Oklahoma almost 500 years before Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue and found the "New World?" Some scholars are convinced they did while others, not so much. 

According to old Icelandic sagas, Bjarni Herjolfsson, a Norse settler to Greenland was sailing from one place to the other in 985 A.D. when he was blown way off course by a huge storm. He managed to make it back home and reported he had seen a large land mass to the west of Greenland - land that nobody knew was there. Word got around and other sailors tried to once again find this land that Bjarni had talked about, but none succeeded until 15 years later when Leif Eriksson was brave enough to keep going west until he found and landed on what would become North America. He also managed to return home safely and for the next 10 years, many Viking voyages were made to explore the land they called "Vinland." These voyages and settlements in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia have been extensively explored and documented by present-day archaeologists.

Trailhead to the Heavener Runestone

Although still unproven to everyone's satisfaction, the old stories tell of one intrepid ship in the year 1000 A.D., whose crew sailed her south along the Atlantic coast of America all the way around Florida, into the Gulf of Mexico, up the Mississippi River and then on up the Arkansas River. No doubt these brave Vikings found the extensive woodlands and the warmth of Arkansas and Oklahoma to be a paradise compared to the cold northern climate they came from. Perhaps they thought they had found the home of Idun, the Norse goddess of spring and eternal youth.

It is now thought that near present day Heavener, Oklahoma, within a deep ravine surrounded by forest, one or more of these Vikings, before they disappeared forever, carved a message on a large, flat stone. This massive slab of rock measures 12 feet tall, 10 feet wide and 16 inches thick. Deeply chiseled into the surface are symbols known as runes.  

The Heavener Runestone

The Heavener Runestone remained hidden in the deep forest until 1838 when Native Americans found it while exploring their new home after being forcibly removed from Tennessee to Eastern Oklahoma. Word spread about this large rock with the strange markings carved into it. Caucasian settlers in the area began calling it "Indian Rock" even though the Indians told them they did not do it and had no idea what it was or what it meant. 

Over the next 80 years, more and more white settlers came to the area and more rune stones were found on a fairly frequent basis. Not knowing what they were, most were simply thrown on rock piles when farmers were clearing their fields for crops and some were used as door stops, only to be lost over the years. In the mid-1920's, one curious resident, Carl Kenmerer, sent a copy of a runestone he had found to the Smithsonian for identification. The Smithsonian experts determined the writing was Norse, but they had no way of telling at that time how old the writing carved in the stone might be. When word spread of the finding, treasure hunters descended on the area and destroyed most of the runestones while trying to break them into smaller pieces which could be carried away.

In 1928, Carl took his young daughter Gloria to the remote place in the woods where the Heavener Runestone remained hidden. She was so intrigued by the inexplicable stone and the beauty of her father's secret wooded ravine that she spent most of her life researching and trying to find the meaning to the mystery. Without her efforts and diligence to protect it, the Heavener Runestone might well have suffered the same fate as the other stones which were destroyed or lost.

Over the years, Gloria was able to find 4 more runestones in the region. The additional stones were found in a straight line from the Heavener stone. This led her and other researchers to conclude the stones were used as trail markers toward the end of the Viking's exploration and served to signify the land had been claimed by them.

Just a few steps from the Heavener stone,
is this indention in the rock overhand.
According to old-timer's stories, it was
the entrance to a Viking cave. Before it
was covered by a rock slide, a dog ran
into the cave and never came out. 

Although there is no way to determine the true date of carvings in stone, weathering of the edges of the carving along with the hardness of the stone and exposure to the elements has proven to be an acceptable guide. This, along with deciphering of one of the stones points to the date of Nov. 11, 1012, about 480 years before Christopher Columbus first landed in the Bahama's.

Norse scholars, cryptographers, and archaeologists in the last few years are mostly in agreement the carving on the Heavener Runestone translates to "GLOMEDAL" - Valley of the Gnomes - or "GAOMEDAT" - Gnome's Valley. Exactly what this means is open to speculation.

In 1970, the Heavener Runestone and the area around it were developed into a 50-acre Oklahoma State Park. Steps and a trail were built leading to the stone and the stone itself was encased in a wooden shelter behind a thick sheet of clear plastic to protect it from the weather and vandals. A small visitor center was built at the top of the trail which led into the valley. In 2011, the state declared the park would be closed due to budget cuts. Fortunately, the small town of Heavener agreed to assume ownership and operation of the park. Currently, the town can only afford to have one paid employee and the park is in need of repairs.

The structure enclosing the Heavener
 Runestone

So did Vikings really explore all the way into Oklahoma over 1,000 years ago? If they did, what became of them? Norse legends tell of sailing to present day Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, tales that until a just a few years ago were considered nothing more than fanciful made up stories, but which have now been proven to be true. Those same saga's tell of a ship which sailed south along the Atlantic Coast of America, never returning home. Would the Norse sailors tell stories that have proven to be true and also make up a story which is a lie? So many "facts" we are certain we know about our history, but so many mystery's remain. Perhaps someday, somehow, the ancient Viking runestones will be proven authentic and American children will have to learn a different rhyme to help them remember who really discovered America.

The Little Golden Gate Bridge in Arkansas

There's a miniature Golden Gate Bridge few people know about in Beaver, Arkansas. Although only 554 feet long and 11 feet wide, it is a working bridge carrying Hwy 187 across the White River in one of the most scenic area's in all of Arkansas. It is the last remaining suspension bridge in this part of the country.

You have to be careful driving across this famous bridge as it is only one lane wide so you have to be considerate of any cars coming across from the other side, but in the sleepy little town of Beaver there's not much traffic to worry about. It is a little unnerving though as you cross the wooden planks above the river below and hear it creaking and the whole bridge begins to wobble a bit. It's held up since 1949 so you should be safe - probably.

The state highway department has made plans several times to tear it down to make room for a new, modern bridge, but the locals and area historians were quick to organize and effectively protest each time so the plans were scrapped. It's been 7 years now since the bridge had to be saved, but the Save The Bridge organization remains ever vigilant and ready to defend the bridge again should the need arise.

To see The Little Golden Gate Bridge, take AR 187 which runs from AR 23 to U.S. 62 between Holiday Island and Rogers. When you get to Beaver, you can't miss it. Bring your camera and maybe a picnic lunch to take a nice break in the little park beside the river at the bridge.

The bridge is listed on the National
Register of Historic Places

Jim Tarver, Texas Giant

They say everything is bigger in Texas so it shouldn't come as a surprise that in 1880 there were 4 brothers from White Rock, Texas, each 7' 11" that toured with the Barnum & Bailey circus as the "Texas Giants." In the early 1900's, the Texas Giants left the circus and were replaced by a man from Terrell, Texas, "Tex" Baker, who grew 11 inches in just 7 months. He stopped growing, but when he did, he was 8' 2" tall. In 1909, another Texan, Jim Tarver who was born on a ranch in Franklin, joined the circus. Billed as "The Texas Giant," he stood 8' 6" and weighed 460 pounds. He was declared to be the tallest man in the world.

When asked how he came to be in the circus, he said he was working as a cowboy on a Texas ranch until he got bigger than his horse. About that time, the circus came to town and he went to see it with a couple of his friends. When he proved to be taller than the "World's Tallest Man" at the sideshow, the circus hired him.

For almost 24 years, the Texas Giant made a very nice living as he traveled with the circus. In addition to his relatively large salary, he made extra money selling souvenir rings that were the exact same size as the one he wore through which a half-dollar coin could pass. He bought a car which had to be customized for him by removing the front seat so he could drive from the rear one. Always gentle and amiable, he often astonished onlookers by standing by the driver's door of his car and opening the door for his passenger by reaching over the top of the car. 

Jim always said he was grateful to the circus for giving him a job, but what he really wanted was to be a farmer. After a few years of being frugal with his money, he had saved enough to buy a farm in Turrell, Arkansas which is where he then went during the winters when the touring season for the circus was over. He spent some of that time making furniture which would fit his large size and enlarging doorways in his house.

In 1933 while performing in El Paso, Texas, a man named Jack Earle came to see the show. When several people said it seemed to them that Jack was taller than "The Texas Giant," the sideshow people measured him. He was indeed taller, by one inch and was hired on the spot. No longer owning the title of "Tallest Man in the World," Jim lost his circus job. He earned some money for a while by making personal appearances and landed an acting job in the role of Blunderbore, the giant in the movie Jack and the Beanstalk. Just a couple of years after the circus though, failing to generate a steady income, Jim retired to the life he had always wanted as a full-time farmer at his place in Arkansas.

After he retired, he shunned publicity and made the farm into a profitable success. His neighbors in tiny Turrell all liked and greatly respected him, the area's children all flocked to him and evidently unmarried women were attracted to him as well. He was married 3 times - his first wife divorced him because she found it too difficult to live with his over-sized furniture and his second wife died.

Jim passed away at age 72 in 1958 from complications of diabetes. His funeral was attended by hundreds of friends. The Texas Giant was laid to rest in a custom-made casket in Crittenden Memorial Park Cemetery, 1 mile west of Marion, Arkansas. His grave is in section 5, lot 6...and 7.

 

The Last Hero of San Jacinto

Alfonso Steele was born in 1817 in Kentucky. Leaving home at the age of 17 to seek his livelihood, he acquired passage down the Mississippi River on a flatboat and made his way to Lake Providence, Louisiana in late 1834. After working at various temporary jobs for almost a year, he joined Ephraim Dagget's volunteer force which then headed to Texas to fight for it's independence. 

Arriving in Washington-On-The-Brazos on New Year's Day, 1836, the contingent found that Texas had not yet declared independence from Mexico. Most of the men left and went back home, but Alfonso had no family and no particular reason to return to Louisiana so he stayed and began working in the hotel across the street from where the Texas delegates were busy crafting the declaration and at a gristmill several blocks away. After grinding corn at the gristmill, he made bread to be served at the hotel and began serving meals to the delegates as they worked late into the night.

Once independence had been declared, Alfonso joined a company of men who began training for the battles which would surely be ahead. When word of the fight at the Alamo reached the town, the company raced to San Antonio to join the fight. Just after crossing the Colorado River, the company of soldiers received word that the Alamo had fallen and all of its defenders slaughtered, their bodies thrown into a pile and burned. With this news, the men returned and joined Sam Houston's army.

On April 21, 1836, fighting hunger and exhaustion, Private Steele was in the front lines as the outnumbered Texans fought the Mexican army. After firing two shots, Steele took a mini-ball in the chest. The bullet went through his left lung and knocked him from his horse, but Alfonso got back up and continued to fight. Closeby, General Houston's horse took a mortal wound, falling and throwing him to the ground, but Houston jumped up, mounted Alfonso's now riderless horse and continued leading his men. Alfonso's horse would also be killed during the fight becoming the 2nd of 3 horses Sam Houston would ride during the battle.

Although grievously wounded, Alfonso continued the fight until the Texas army had won the field of battle and secured independence. He was then carried to a nearby home which had been hastily converted into a hospital. Several days later, he was transported by boat to a hospital which was better equipped to handle his serious wounds. 

Against the odds, Steele began recovering and after many weeks hovering between life and death, was discharged from the hospital and the army. With a small stipend for his service in the army, Alfonso then made his way to Montgomery County where he started farming and raising cattle.

Alfonso and Mary Ann

On September 28, 1838, Steele married Mary Ann Powell of Tennessee. She had come to Texas in 1833 at the age of 10 by covered wagon with her cousins the Berrymans and the Parkers. The Parker family established Fort Parker in Mexia where in 1836, several family members were killed or kidnapped by Comanche, including Cynthia Ann Parker, Mary Ann's playmate. Cynthia Parker who would later marry a Comanche chief and have a son by him, Quannah, who would himself become the last free Comanche chief. 

After Alfonso and Mary Ann were married, they sold his farm and moved to Robertson County (which later became part of Limestone County) and established another farm and ranch. By all accounts, the union and their life together was happy and quiet. Their marriage lasted 65 years and produced 10 children, only ending when Mary Ann passed away of natural causes in 1903.

When his wife died, Alfonso finally fully retired and moved into the home of a grandson in Kosse, about 50 miles from Waco. His final years were happily spent being visited by many of his 250 descendants and telling stories of his life in the early days of Texas. Steele died at age 94 on July 8, 1911 and was buried in the Mexia City Cemetery, the last living participant of the battle for Texas independence at San Jacinto.

The Scalped Man

Sometime in the mid-1820's, a man named Josiah Wilbarger came to Texas with his wife Margaret from Missouri and settled in a bend in the Colorado River a few miles east of present day downtown Austin. Hornsby Bend, as it was then called, was originally settled in 1820 or 1821 by Reuben Hornsby who staked out his claim on the land, built a small fort and then moved in his wife and children. Wilbarger made his living by hiring out as a scout and guide while his wife raised their children and a large garden. Soon, the Wilbargers called on their neighbors and in short order the families became close friends. Hornsby's Fort became Josiah's unofficial headquarters and he spent a lot of his off time there. This would prove to be a huge mistake.

Woodcut from Indian Depradations in Texas
 by J. Wilbarger - Courtesy Texas State
Library and Archives Commission

Wilbarger began using the same route from Hornsby's Fort along Onion Creek when guiding the surveyors that were mapping the dangerous lands to the west and therefore broke a cardinal rule of living in hostile country - his movements became predictable. When you are predictable, others who mean you harm can observe your habits and use them against you. 

One August morning in 1833, Wilbarger was leading a party of 4 surveyors along his usual trail westward when only 6 miles from the fort they decided to take a break for lunch. Josiah and 2 of the men removed the saddles from their horses, but the other 2 merely removed the bridals. They had just finished eating when suddenly, a number of Comanche Indians ambushed the group. Firing rifles and arrows from behind tree's and bushes, 2 men were fatally hit.The 2 men who had not removed saddles from their horses made a run for them. Wilbarger ran after them but was hit in the leg by an arrow. The man nearest him waited several seconds for him, but as Josiah was reaching to grab the back of the saddle to pull himself up, he was hit in the neck by a large caliber musket ball and fell to the ground. Fearing for their lives, the 2 men quickly wheeled their horses around and made a run back to Hornsby's Fort. 

The musket ball which hit Josiah had passed completely through his neck and exited under his chin. The projectile had somehow bruised but did not break the carotid artery and the jugular vein and nicked his spine. The wound caused him to be temporarily but completely paralyzed, even to the point of being unable to blink, while leaving him fully conscious. As he lay there as he had fallen, on his side with eyes open, he watched with increasing terror as the Indians begin to strip, cut the throats and then scalp the two dead surveyors. He knew his turn was coming, but try as he might, he couldn't move a muscle. When one of the Indians turned to him, he completely stripped Wilbarger of all clothing except 1 sock and then, grabbing Josiah by a handful of hair, lifted his head and stared into his face. With Josiah unable to move even his eyes and with a bloody wound under his chin, the Indian apparently was satisfied he was dead as he placed his large knife against the white man's scalp and gave a loud blood yell.

Josiah Wilbarger recovering after the
horror of being scalped.

Although still completely paralyzed, Wilbarger was conscious and he felt the sharp edge of the blade upon his scalp as the Indian cut around the hair and skin he intended to remove. He heard a sound like distant rolling thunder as his scalp was ripped away, but mercifully, there was little pain as his senses had been deadened by his wounded spine. He felt his head fall back and saw the Indian warrior stand up and walk away holding Josiah's bloody, detached scalp in his hand. It was at this point he lost consciousness.

When Wilbarger woke up in the afternoon, he found himself completely alone with nothing but the scalped bodies of the dead surveyors around him. He was once again able to move, but he was naked and the Indians had left nothing behind except the lone sock on his left foot; no horses, no guns, no food, no clothing, nothing at all that might help. His head hurt terribly and the sun had burned his naked skin a bright and painful red. He could feel blowflies crawling around his open wound and knew maggots would soon hatch and begin eating his flesh. He saw the arrow in his leg had gone mostly through so stealing himself against the pain to come, he forced the arrow the rest of the way through and out of his leg. Summoning all his will, Josiah then crawled to the banks of Onion Creek and drank of the muddy water. He removed the one sock he had been left, soaked it in the creek and as best he could, washed away the blood and insects from his scalped head. To get relief and to protect his head from the sun, he smeared wet mud on his bare skull and packed it in the wound in his leg.

After resting a while, he turned in the direction of Hornsby's Fort and began crawling toward it. He made it almost a mile before the coming darkness and exhaustion overtook him. Covered in blood which had mixed with the mud on his head and knowing he was about to die, he propped himself up against a large live-oak tree, modestly placed his hands over his naked crotch, and waited for death to release him from his unbearable pain.

While laying there just before it got full dark, Josiah's sister, Margaret Clifton, appeared before him. He knew he must be hallucinating because she was still living back home in Missouri. She spoke to him saying, "Have no fear, Brother Josiah. Remain here under this tree. Help is on the way." Before passing out, he saw her turn and walk toward Hornsby's Fort, disappearing into the night.

Back at Hornsby's Fort, the 2 surviving surveyors  had returned and told of the ambush. They reported the other 3 men were surely dead as they had seen "50 savages" fall upon the felled men with raised war clubs and knives and everyone knows Comanche do not leave a man alive. The fort was quickly locked down tight in expectation of an imminent attack. By the time it became dark, fear of  the Indians coming was waning and with the exception of one man posted as a guard, everyone prepared for bed. Lamp oil and candles were expensive and hard to come by during that time so people went to bed when it got dark. 

Sarah Hornsby, Reuben's wife, had been asleep about 2 hours when she suddenly awoke from a very vivid dream. She shook her husband awake and told him she had seen Wilbarger who was naked and wounded but still alive and laying under a big tree. Reuben told her it was just a dream, the men who returned had insisted all of the others were dead. About an hour later, she awoke again from the same dream. This time there had been more details. She told him Wilbarger had been scalped and was covered in blood. She also told him he had something on his head where he was now bald. Again, Reuben told her to go back to sleep. He promised her the men would go out the next morning to retrieve the bodies. After falling sleep once more, the dream returned a 3rd time. Sarah woke her husband again and loudly insisted Wilbarger was still alive and desperately needed help. She described the tree where he lay saying he was naked and bloody, but still clinging to life.

Reuben, no doubt totally exasperated by this time but knowing his wife wasn't going to let him sleep until he did her bidding, roused their 2 older boys and woke up several of the men sleeping in the fort to accompany him. He knew the large tree his wife had described so that's where they would head. Before leaving, Sarah told the men Wilbarger wouldn't be able to ride so she padded a wagon with quilts and blankets and insisted the men take it with them. She also provided a sheet with which to wrap him. With loaded guns and burning lamps, the men set out for the large live-oak tree along the banks of Onion Creek.

About 6 miles from the fort, the men found Wilbarger under the tree just as Sarah had described. At first, they were sure he was dead as he was covered in blood and mud and wasn't moving. They were standing there looking at him when suddenly Josiah opened his eyes and said, "Don't shoot, it's me, Wilbarger." Recovering from their shock, the men carefully wrapped his head in clean rags, clothed him in the sheet, hurriedly loaded him into the wagon and took him back to the fort.

Over the next 6 long and painful months, Wilbarger recuperated under the gentle care of his wife. The skin never grew back over the bald spot on his head so he began wearing a silk skullcap made by his wife to cover the exposed bone. Eventually, the wounds in his neck and leg healed and Josiah regained his health enough to make a living operating a cotton gin located near Hornsby Bend. By all accounts, the Wilbarger's were happy and lived a fairly normal life together even though Josiah was in almost constant pain.

The Wilbarger headstone in the Texas State
Cemetery

On April 11, 1845, over 11 years after he was scalped, Wilbarger's mind was preoccupied on something else when he entered the side entrance of his cotton gin. Not paying attention, he failed to duck low enough and struck the bald spot of his skull on the the wooden lintel of the door, fracturing his skull and exposing his brain. He died almost instantly and was buried in Fairview Cemetery not far from his home. Wilbarger County, Texas was later named after him. His son, John Lemon Wilbarger, became a Texas Ranger and was killed by Indians in 1850. John was also buried in Fairview Cemetery, but both Josiah and John were moved and interred together in the Texas State Cemetery in 1936. Josiah's wife, Margaret, later remarried and when she passed away, was laid to rest next to her 2nd husband, Talbert, in the Fairview Cemetery under the name Margaret Chambers.

What about the sister who came to him in a vision and gave him the will to continue because help was on the way? Due to the mail being very slow in those days, it was several months after the incident, while Josiah was still recuperating, when a letter was received informing him that his sister Margaret had taken ill and passed away. She had died the evening before he was scalped. Her family had lain her to rest as Josiah lay unconscious and bleeding by the banks of Onion Creek. When she appeared to him, she was spending her first night in the grave.  What of the vivid recurring dream Sarah Hornsby had? The distance between where Josiah had lain under the big post-oak tree to Hornsby's Fort takes about 2 1/2 hours to walk. From the time his sister Margaret appeared to Josiah until Sarah had the dream the first time? About 2 1/2 hours.
 

Postcard From Medicine Mound, Texas - Ghost Town

In southeastern Hardeman County in West Texas is the interesting little ghost town of Medicine Mound. The town was named after the four nearby cone-shaped dolomite hills which rise 350 feet above the prairie and were called Medicine Mounds by the Comanche Indians. The hills have flat tops which the Indians considered to be the home of powerful, but benevolent spirits and they used these hill tops to hold sacred ceremonies and to mix medicinal herbs so the spirits would make the curative powers even stronger.

Medicine Mound once had a population of 500 with 22 businesses, including a newspaper called "The Citizen." A devastating fire in 1932 destroyed most of the buildings in downtown and with the exodus of people already started for better job opportunities in larger towns, few of the burned-out businesses rebuilt. By 1940, there were only 6 business properties still open to serve the remaining 210 residents. 

The Medicine Mound school was closed in 1955 and the handful of students traveled to Quanah to continue their formal education. With a population less than 100, the post office and all but one store, the Hicks-Cobb General Store, closed down in the late 1950's. In 1980 there were still 50 residents in the vicinity, but these were mostly older people who still lived and worked on the farms and ranches around the area. 

Bluebonnets and cactus in Medicine Mound

Today the population is zero. The dilapidated remains of an old house and the shell of the W.W. Cole building, a combination drug store, bank, and gas station remain somewhat standing. The Hicks-Cobb General Store also remains, but it was turned into a regional history and cultural museum by the now aged daughter (born in 1927) of the former owner and is not in much better shape than the other 2 buildings. The museum was supposed to be open every Saturday from 10:00 - 2:00, but during my visit on a Saturday during those hours, it wasn't open, not a single person was anywhere in sight, and judging by the deep layer of dust which covered everything viewable through the window, it hadn't been opened or attended to in a good long while.

The old W. W. Cole building with the gas pumps still
standing sentinel

Medicine Mound doesn't have much of an interesting history. No bad men robbed the bank, nobody was murdered there, it had no notorious residents and there aren't even any mysterious ghost stories about the small cemetery where a few of its residents remain resting in peace. It was just a quiet little town where normal everyday people lived and dreamed and died. And then, having served its purpose, Medicine Mound died too.

The town "Necessary Room"

The only remaining house in Medicine Mound has
seen better days

I wonder what happened to the people who
lived here. Did they live full, happy lives
until death took them to a new home or did
their dreams die and they simple pack up
and leave without looking back?

At one time this was someone's pride and joy. Iris flowers
were lovingly planted around the property.

Florida Lovebugs Massacre

I've mellowed a lot since my youthful days, especially now that I'm old enough to realize the truth of the statement that it's not worth it to sweat the little things and most things are little things. I'm mostly a peaceable person not wishing harm on anyone or anything, but there are a few exceptions. One exception is snakes. Most truly rational people feel the same as me - the only good snake is a dead snake. I've heard there are good snakes, but I haven't met one. If you are one of those people who like snakes, sorry, but you are weird and you will not be able to change my mind. Other exceptions are mosquitoes, gnats, chiggers, leeches, and ticks. The world would be so much better off without any of those. If you are reincarnated back as one of those things, you must have been really, really bad in your former life. There is one more exception, the Lovebugs in Florida. They don't bite or sting or eat your food growing in the vegetable garden or cause some strange, fatal disease, but when it comes to the annoyment factor, they wear the crown.

If you don't know the creature I'm speaking about, consider yourself lucky. They are small, black and orange lightweight bugs that mate in the air while flying. The female is less than 1/2" long and the male is about 1/2 of her size. They mate tail-to-tail (they are so repulsive looking they can't even stand to look at each other while having sex) and the female slowly flies around pulling her little fella behind her. This might explain why they don't fly smoothly, but seem to lurch around in the air and constantly fly into things. You very rarely, almost never, see one alone as the only time you see them is during the spring and fall mating seasons when they do nothing but mate and fly around while doing it. The little annoying buggers don't even eat, they just have sex constantly.

A while back, I made the unfortunate decision to visit Florida during the Lovebug mating season. When I was in the US Navy, I went to boot camp in Orlando during Lovebug mating season and then I lived in Florida for almost a year while attending a Naval school so I know about the Lovebugs, I had just forgotten about them and their seasons when I scheduled my trip. It won't happen again.

In boot camp in Orlando, Florida in the spring and summer months, there is a lot of physical activity in very hot, humid weather. You sweat a lot, a whole lot. You stand at attention in the hot sun for long periods of time while one instructor or another screams curses at you letting you know just how worthless you are and how you will never, ever be good enough to actually become a sailor in the United State's Navy. And you sweat. While you are standing there ramrod straight and absolutely motionless, the Lovebugs in their sexual ecstasy or sheer stupid clumsiness cannot avoid you and fly right into your stationary head. And there they stick in the sweat dripping down from your newly shorn, almost bald head. The bugs are so weak they can't even extricate themselves and fly away, they just crawl around, one trying to walk one way and the other trying to walk in the opposite direction. They crawl up your nose, in your ears, across your eyes, they flow down your shirt collar trapped by the sweat running down your neck. Little buggy feet crawling around causing itching and you know they are there and you can't do anything about it but endure because you are standing at attention and the slightest movement will result in screaming directed at you individually and even more exercise. Every day I heard, "Don't you dare touch those Lovebugs! Those are the Captain's Lovebugs and if you touch something that belongs to the Captain, you will be dead meat!" I endured and I came to hate Lovebugs.

During my fateful Florida trip. Lovebugs came swarming out of the woods and marshes by the trillions. Paired up to make even more of themselves, they stupidly flew their way over the highway and there I took my gleeful revenge. Their little squishy bodies covered the front bumper and grill of my truck and piled up on my windshield so thick I had to keep spraying windshield washer and employing the wipers just so I could somewhat see the road ahead through the goop. I had to stop twice just to fill up the washer fluid and clean the wipers. I knew later I would have a heck of a job cleaning my truck of all those squished bug bodies, but remembering the absolute misery they caused me those many years ago, I loved the massacre.

The First Shot of the Civil War

Cadet William S. Simkins

Just northeast of today's downtown Dallas, Texas is the historic Greenwood Cemetery. Famous for the many icons of history buried within its grounds, it is perhaps even more famous for the numerous cemetery scenes filmed there for the popular TV series Walker, Texas Ranger which starred Chuck Norris and ran from 1993 - 2001. One of the more obscure burials here is that of Confederate veteran William Stewart Simkins.

William was born on August 25, 1842. On January 9, 1861, he was a senior cadet at the Citadel, a South Carolina military academy. At daybreak, he and several other cadets were manning a battery overlooking the Charleston Harbor. Standing watch that morning, he saw a signal from a guard boat and quickly sounded the alarm, waking up his fellow cadets. They spotted the Union ship Star of the West attempting to resupply Fort Sumter. A cannon was loaded, aimed at the supply ship, and William fired. It was the first shot of the Civil War. (see The Civil War Ended in Texas for who fired the last shot.)

William Simkins

William and his classmates were graduated early on April 9th. Just 3 days later on April 12, 1861, he participated in the bombardment of Fort Sumter, the first battle of the Civil War. William served as an artillery officer and then Inspector General throughout the conflict, finally surrendering as a colonel in the army of General Joseph Johnston in North Carolina in 1865.

Simkins moved to Florida after the war, studied law and passed the bar exam in 1870. He move to Texas in 1873 and eventually joined the law faculty of the University of Texas. After a long and successful law career, he passed away in Dallas on February 27, 1929. 68 years after he fired the first shot of the Civil War.

Simkins Family Plot in Greenwood Cemetery

Grave of William Simkins

Tale of Texas Bluebonnets

In a time long, long ago, before the white man came and only the Indians roamed the land that would one day become Texas, a great drought fell upon the country. The Springs had been nothing but dust, the Summers parching heat. Only small brown leaves hung on the trees and the grass was little but dust in the Falls. The Winters were nothing but bitter cold and starvation for man and beast. Now it was time for Spring again, but no rains came and the drought persisted. Even the hardy buffalo were suffering with many nothing more now than bones on the prairie. The jack rabbits had all but disappeared and the coyotes were famished.

It was clear to The People that the Chief of All Spirits had turned his face away. Without stop, Medicine Men chanted incantations, danced to tom-toms, and covered themselves in dust. Warriors with knives cut their own flesh and spilled their blood upon the ground. The women and children hid and didn't speak. A great fear was upon all The People for they knew they must have done some great misdeed for the spirits to have turned against them so. They knew such a wrong must be atoned for and forgiven before the rains would come back and bring life to the world once again. The many tribes came together in a great council to listen to the medicine men to seek guidance.

After many days of dancing sacred dances and chanting sacred words, the oldest and strongest medicine man of them all went alone into his tepee to light a sacred fire, to breath the sacred smoke and to engage in a powerful vision quest. At last the Chief of All Spirits heard The People. Speaking through the medicine man, he instructed The People to make a burnt offering of their most prized possession and the ashes of the offering must be scattered to the four cardinal points of Mother Earth; the north, the south, the east and the west. Drought and famine would remain upon the land until such a sacrifice was made.

On the very outer edge of the assembled people that night was a little girl listening carefully to the words of the revered medicine man. As he finished speaking and The People dispersed, she said not a word, but she knew in her heart that she held tightly clasped in her hands the most valued possession among The People. 

It was a beautiful doll her mother had made and lovingly placed next to her on the cradle board the very day she had been born. Made of bleached buckskin, it was crafted in the image of an Indian princess. The eyes, nose, mouth, and ears were carefully painted on with the juice of the blackberry. The leggings were beaded with small pieces of polished bone and colored seeds. It had a belt made of wildcat teeth strung on twisted hair from a buffalo tail and upon its head was a bonnet made of the bright blue feathers of the crested Blue Jay. No mother could love their own child more than this little girl loved her blue-bonneted doll; no price could have tempted her to part with it. Her heart was heavy as she realized her most precious doll must also be the most valued possession of her people.

Later that night, the council fires burned out and the families retired to their tepees. The stars were twinkling, but there was no moon and in the dark, after the last lonesome wail of the coyote had fallen silent, the little girl lay on a blanket near the open flap. She hugged close the little doll and talked to it in almost silent whispers, speaking of her deep abiding love and how she would hold the doll in her heart for all time. Finally, when all was quiet except for the snores of the slumbering warriors and even the ever vigilant owls had closed their eyes in sleep, the little girl child silently rose from her bed and made her way on ever so quiet feet to the place of the council fire. There she spotted a stick of wood which still burned under the ashes and carefully holding it by the unburned end, made her way from the camp to the edge of a dried lake nearby.

Stopping beside some dead bushes, she prayed to the Chief of All Spirits that her offering would be acceptable. As tears streaked her little face, she gathered twigs from the bushes and lay them on the burning stick. With the small fire burning, she told the doll once more of her love, dried her eyes and with great resolve, thrust the doll headfirst into the flame. The smell of burning buckskin and feathers was strong, but there was no wind and the scent did not wake anybody. The little doll burned until eventually there was not a scrap left. The little girl gently scooped up the ashes and in the manner told by the medicine man, scattered the ashes to the north, to the south, to the east, and to the west. She wanted to be near all that was left of her beloved doll so she lay down on the blanket she had brought with her, positioning her bed in the middle of the scattered ashes. It took what seemed to be a long time, but the little girl finally fell asleep.

Just before daylight, the girl awoke as she felt drops of water on her face. It was still too dark to see well so she turned over and felt on the ground around her. Against her fingers  she felt something as soft as the feathers of the bonnet on her doll. Then she smelled something she had never smelled before, a new sweet fragrance that somehow raised her spirits and made her feel good. 

She jumped up and ran to her family's tepee, "Oh Mother, come, please come!" Without a word, her mother arose and took her daughter's hand. As they stepped out, the mother was surprised to feel a light rain falling upon them, yet on the horizon, shining through a break in the clouds was the sun's rays signalling a new day's beginning. The child led her mother to the dried up lake where puddles of water were already beginning to form. There, all around the bushes where she had scattered the doll ashes, was a blue as intense as indigo and under that layer was another layer of blue as soft and shining as any spring-fresh feather of the bird which cries, "jay, jay, jay!" The little blue flowers were so thick they almost hid the small green leaves of the plant.

The little girl told her mother of her sacrifice and her mother told her daddy and her daddy told the men of the council. Soon, all of The People came in the rain to see the miracle. The medicine man proclaimed it to be a sure sign.

For the next three days and nights the gentle rains fell and for the rest of the Spring and Summer, warm rains fell as before. Trees and bushes sprouted leaves. The grass grew green and thick. Birds sang and built nests. Game animals came back and grew fat. While the men hunted, the women planted corn and pumpkins and everything that was planted grew. All of The People were happy and grew plump in preparation for the lean months of the coming winter. The men sat around campfires at night and the women sat behind them as they told wonderful stories of the little girl and her sacrifice.

Soon after the Chief of all Spirits had accepted her offering, the medicine man called together all of The People. He announced the little child who until then had not been given a name, would thereafter be called, "One-Who-Dearly-Loves-Her-People." Every day, she would go to the field of beautiful blue flowers which had come in exchange for her doll with the blue-feathered bonnet. She saw the flowers develop little pods of seeds and then the little green leaves and the stalks turned brown. She still came every day and eventually saw the dried seed pods twist and with a little crack, open and shoot out their seeds. 

Today, in the spring of the new year when the mockingbird begins singing in the moonlight, bluebonnets line the roads and grow in profusion in the pastures making the landscape of Texas unique and truly beautiful. And those who know how this came to be remember in their hearts a special little girl who made a great sacrifice, One-Who-Dearly-Loves-Her-People.

The Hanged Man Who Refused To Die

In 1890, after the Ku Klux Klan was somewhat disrupted and driven under ground, another organization called the Whitecaps was formed in Mississippi to "put down criminality and petty thievery among the blacks."  The members swore in blood never to reveal its secrets. Unlike the KKK, the Whitecaps rarely used violence, but the scare tactics they used were enough to keep the African-Americans terrorized.

In 1893, for some infraction that has been lost to history, the Whitecaps in Marion County took physical action against an African-American employed as a servant by a member of the group. The man was severely flogged while his employer, Will Buckley, was out of town and had no knowledge of the group's action. When Buckley returned and discovered his servant had been flogged, he became enraged at the uncalled for violence and the secrecy with which it was carried out. He decided to reveal the whole affair to the authorities and expose the secrets of the Whitecaps at the next meeting of a Grand Jury. Buckley's intentions became known to the leaders of the Whitecaps so when the jury met, the Whitecappers were there to watch the moves of everyone who might testify against the organization. As a result of Buckley's evidence and testimony, an indictment was brought against the 3 Whitecap men who had carried out the flogging.

On his way home from the courthouse, accompanied by his brother Jim and the flogged man, all on horseback, Buckley was traveling down a secluded forest road. With Will Buckley in the lead, they were crossing a small stream when a man jumped out from the underbrush and fired a pistol at them. With a moan, Will swayed in his saddle and then fell to the ground dead. The other 2 men spurred their horses and even though the assassin emptied his gun firing at them, managed to escape unhurt.

A short distance down the trail on which Will was killed was the Purvis home. Although only 19, Will Purvis was rumored to be a member of the Whitecaps. Two days after the slaying, bloodhounds were taken to the place of the murder and with some coaxing, picked up a cold scent which led the handlers into a field near the frame house the Purvis family called home. A neighbor who owned land on both sides of the Purvis holdings had for years tried to buy them out, but the elder Purvis refused to sell. This neighbor confirmed to authorities that young Will was a member of the Whitecaps and he was almost positive it had been him who had shot Buckley. Desperate to make an arrest and solve the crime, Will was arrested and charged with murder.

The arrest threw citizens of the county into two camps. Buckley had been well liked, being known to be fair in his dealings with others and for helping folks in need, but Will Purvis was also well liked, having grown up there and known to be kind and hard-working. Many said it couldn't have been Will who carried out such a terrible deed; he was too kind and just didn't have it in him.  

At the trial, Jim Buckley, the state's key witness, testified that he and the servant had witnessed the killing of his brother. When asked if he could name the man who did the killing, he pointed his finger at Will Purvis and said, "That's him. That's the man who killed my brother." Even though several men of good character substantiated Purvis' alibi of being several miles away with them planning a group picnic at the time of the killing, Jim's testimony along with Will Purvis admitting he had joined the Whitecaps 3 weeks before the murder was enough for the jury to find him guilty. 

At the reading of the verdict, Purvis once again declared his innocence. At the request of his attorney, each member of the jury was asked how he voted and Will looked on in dismay as each one replied, "Guilty." As the last juror answered the same as the rest, Will said, "I am innocent of this crime. I swear, I will outlive everyone on the jury who has wrongly found me guilty." 

Following the law, Will was sentenced to die by hanging. His attorney appealed, but 6 months later, the Mississippi Supreme Court upheld the sentence. Several days following the Supreme Court's decision, Will was escorted under heavy guard to the gallows in Columbia. Five thousand people came to Columbia on horseback, in wagons, carts and buggies. When the appointed hour came, many in the crowd were crying as Will was led up to the scaffold. After the minister finished praying for his soul, the sheriff asked Will if he had any last words. The crowd was silent, expecting a final confession, but Will stated, "You are taking the life of an innocent man, but there are people here who know who did commit this crime. If they will come forward and confess, I will go free and an innocent man will be spared." Nobody came forward as the rope was placed around the boy's neck. The minister loudly proclaimed, "God save this innocent boy!" just as the trapdoor was sprung beneath Will's feet. Purvis dropped and then with a sharp jerk, the hangman's knot slipped and Will fell to the ground with no more injury than a slight rope burn around his neck.

Horror gripped the crowd as Will, his hands and feet still bound, stood up and looked around. Incredibly, he hopped up onto the first step of the scaffold, turned to the sheriff and said, "Let's have it over with." Many women in the crowd began screaming and crying even louder as some of the men began shouting it was divine intervention that had saved the young man. The sheriff said, "This man was sentenced to hang and hang he will" as he ordered the officials to prepare to hang him again. The doctor on hand refused to have anything more to do with the procedure. He had been known for expressing his feelings against the Whitecaps, but all along he had not believed Purvis was guilty. As the doctor prepared to walk away he said, "I will not have any part of this damn thing. This boy's been hung once too many times already."

When the doctor made his statement, many of the crowd cried, "Don't let him hang!" Others in the crowd were just as loud though as they shouted, "Hang him!" Suddenly, the Reverend held up his hands and as the shouts faded, all eyes turned to him. He shouted, "All who want to see this boy hanged a second time, hold up your hands." There was complete silence and only a few hands were raised. The Reverend then said in a quiet voice, "All who are opposed to hanging Will Purvis a second time, hold up your hands." Almost every hand went up. The crowd who had come to see life taken from a man now were virtually united in calling for his release.

The officials were unsure what to do. It was their duty to carry out the punishment, but how could they go ahead against the will of five thousand people staring at them? Once again the sheriff ordered the officials to prepare to hang Will again. At this, the doctor called out to the sheriff, "I do not agree with you. If I were to call for the help of 300 men to prevent the hanging, what would you do?" As shouts of agreement with the doctor rose from the men in the crowd, the sheriff realized that in such an event he would be helpless. The doctor then took several steps up the gallows and quietly said to the sheriff, "And I am ready to it it now." At this, the sheriff ordered the hanging to be stopped and the prisoner to be escorted back to jail.

The question of whether or not Will Purvis could be hanged again was taken to the State Supreme Court. The court decided that just because the noose had slipped was no reason the law should not be followed to completion. The court stated that Purvis had been found guilty, there was a witness against him and to free him or commute his sentence to life in prison would establish a dangerous precedent. His date of execution was set for July 31, 1895.

Indignation over the ruling of the court ran high with most people now believing Will was indeed innocent. During the night of July 30, 1895, the night before Will was to be hung a second time, there was strangely only one deputy standing guard  when a group of unidentified men stormed the jail, overpowered and tied up the deputy without harming him and whisked Will Purvis away. Several other prisoners were left in their cells and the deputy swore he could not identify any of Will's rescuers. Nobody was ever brought to trial for the jailbreak.

Will disappeared and the official search for him never amounted to much, but the case remained in the public eye so much that it was an issue in the next gubernatorial election. The candidate in favor of modifying the sentence won the election. The day after he was sworn in, Purvis voluntarily surrendered himself and, true to his word, the new governor commuted the sentence to life imprisonment. On March 12, 1896, Will began his sentence of hard labor, breaking rocks and clearing fields by hand.

Two years later, the state's key witness, Jim Buckley, the brother who had identified Purvis as the murderer, recanted his testimony and said in his grief and desire for revenge, he had identified Will because everyone thought that's who did it. Since Jim was the main reason Will had been convicted, a new trial was ordered and without an eye witness, a new verdict of Not Guilty was rendered. Will was released from prison and on December 19, 1898, after thousands of letters came into the governor's office requesting a pardon for Will, the governor issued the requested full pardon. 

In time, Will married his childhood sweetheart and they had 7 children. He became a prosperous farmer and life with his family was good, but there was still a cloud over his happiness as he had never completely been vindicated of the murder of Will Buckley.

In 1917, Joe Beard, a long-time resident of the community attended a rousing revival meeting of the Holy Rollers. The charismatic preacher emphasized the importance of the public confession of sins. Joe came forward to join the church and declared he had long been suffering from the weight of a terrible sin. He would say no more at that time, but a few months later he became seriously ill. When the doctor told him he should prepare to meet his maker, Beard called his minister and several friends to his bedside to hear his confession. He stated that in 1893, he was one of 4 Whitecaps who met in secret to discuss Will Buckley's intention of revealing to the Grand Jury the secrets of the Whitecaps organization. Three of them decided that Buckley should be killed to protect the guilty members. The fourth person was a young man of only 19 years who had just recently joined the Whitecaps and he flatly refused to have anything to do with such a dastardly thing. He promptly renounced his membership, quitting the group and returning home. That man was Will Purvis.

The three remaining men drew lots to see who would carry out the murder. Joe and a man named Louis Thornhill drew the short straws. The two men built a brush blind on the side of the creek by the trail they knew Buckley would take coming home from town. They laid in wait until the three intended victims came into sight. Beard said Thornhill jumped out and fired the shot that killed Buckley, but Beard, who was also supposed to jump out and begin firing, had lost his nerve and never moved from his hiding place in the brush. This had allowed Jim Buckley and the servant to escape. The reverend got a pencil and paper and began writing down his story, but before he could finish it and get Beard to sign it, Beard took his last breath and died.

Beard's confession completely cleared Purvis of the murder. In an ironic twist of fate, Thornhill, who was advanced in age but still alive, could not be brought to trial as the deathbed confession could not be used in court since it was not signed. Thornhill, who had years before moved to an isolated cabin in the woods, remained in his cabin, but was never seen in town again. A year later, his body was discovered on the floor of his cabin by a hunter. No cause was given for his death.

In 1920, the state of Mississippi appropriated $5,000 to Purvis as compensation "for suffering endured and for services done and performed in the State penitentiary under the provision of an erroneous judgement. The state of Mississippi confesses to a great wrong done to Will Purvis and now removes all stain and dishonor from his name."

On October 13, 1938, twenty-one years after his exoneration, Will Purvis died of natural causes - 3 days after the death of the last juror who had found him guilty.