Texas Remembered

       More Letters From Paradise
           Texas Remembered

I will never know why my parents decided to sell our house and move to Texas. But what I think must have happened, was that my father had been taking college classes on the G.I. bill, in the hastily-built barracks, after the fire had destroyed the old brick buildings of the college.  Maybe the program of studies were not to his liking. Or maybe it was simply his desire to see Texas. The destination was to be the small town of San Marcos, the home of Texas State Teacher's College. Was it my father's plan to become a teacher? I will never know.

Our large old house on the corner across from the Methodist Church was sold, and we had an auction. I will long remember that my ten foot toboggan went for twenty-five cents. But, what would I have used it for in Texas?

Our pre-war Packard car was soon replaced by a 1940 Chevrolet, equipped with over-load springs, electric brakes, and a heavy-duty trailer hitch.

We had a house trailer for our new home. Today, we call them mobile homes. Ours was twenty-something feet long and was without a bathroom. At that time it was understood that you used the bath facilities at a trailer park, or at a friendly gas station. Inside, the trailer there was a sink and cupboards on one wall, and seats. On the opposite side there were seats. At the far end where you entered, there was a long seat that made into a bed. At the other end of the trailer was a bedroom. Windows were on each side, and front and rear. That was it. It wasn't far from the idea for a mobile home in the 1920's when it was called a "House Car," and you built it yourself on a  truck frame.

My father cursed all the way to Texas. The trailer was heavy, and difficult to pull. We spent some nights next to gas stations, sometimes a trailer camp.

Upon arriving in San Marcos, we took up living in Rio Vista Trailer Park, on the Brazos River. There was a communal shower and laundry for all the residents.

And I went to school. I think I was in either the fifth or sixth grade. I rode the bus to school in the morning, but walked home with some of the other kids. On the way we would often find an armadillo, which we would use as a football, and kick it all the way home.

School was very different from what I had been used to. You could go there in your bare feet. I was often called "Damn Yankee," and there were a few fights. There was a popcorn machine and candy machine in the lobby. I thought my classmates were really stupid, as they couldn't name the Great Lakes. I had a brief crush on a girl whose name was Juanita, and I pronounced her name all wrong. How was I to know that her name was spelled with a the letter J. That was my first brush with Spanish. But things got better when I fell in love with my Spanish teacher Mrs. Schultz.

In addition to the usual subjects, we were taught square dances. I remember that we did the "Grapevine Twist, "Put Your Little Foot, "Virginia Reel," "Texas Star," and many others. I also learned and sang "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You."

At the end of the school year there was picnic at the park with swimming in the Brazos River. I couldn't swim, but managed to keep my head above the water. A water moccasin snake swam with us, until a couple of boys chased it ashore, put on their cowboy boots, and stomped it to death.

My parents soon grew tired of trailer life, sold it, and rented an apartment in town. I had my own room with a balcony.

A guy my father knew, had a job caring for horses outside of town. Sometimes he would take me with him. He was surprised that I had not learned to drive. He taught me to shoot jack rabbits out of the window of the pick-up. That was great fun. I remember too, cow horns all around the loading shuts next to the rail siding. The cattle had their horns sawn-off to prevent injury during the long journey to the stock yards.

Our stay in Texas was not very long. Why we left to return to Michigan, I have no answer.
           Aloha
           Grant