Texas Trail Rides are a Houston tradition in all the best ways! They celebrate history, get people outdoors, involve animals (yes, please!), and bring families together.
Yesterday I met up with the Texas Independence Trail Riders, one of eleven rides who make their way to Houston in time for the Houston Rodeo Parade. After having no rodeo last year, this year’s ride seems like a special celebration.
True to the Texas spirit, the trail rides originated due to a bit of bragging, a dare, and a sense of fun. In 1952 the mayor of Brenham, Reese Lockett, shared stories about his younger years on a ranch when they drove cattle from Central Texas winter pastures to the coastal salt grasses in warmer weather.
Listening to the tales, a group of Houston journalists and rodeo officials dared him to retrace the old trail from Brenham to Houston in time for that year’s rodeo, and he accepted. The ride was shared with the public by a television reporter who went along for the ride in a covered wagon.
That first ride stirred up a wave of nostalgia for the bygone days of Texas, and the next year a group of about 80 ranchers and cowboys (all men) gathered together to ride the Salt Grass Trail. By the following year 800 people wanted to be a part of this Romantic re-enactment.
Today, thousands of people (men, women and children) participate in the 11 trail rides that wind along their own specific routes from all over Texas and Louisiana covering a cumulative 1,300 miles! The Valley Lodge Trail, at 71.5 miles, is the shortest. The Mission Trail ride covers 239 miles between San Antonio and Houston, winning the prize for longest ride.
The fun thing for those of us not lucky enough to saddle up and ride along is that the groups make many stops along the way. A quick check of the trail maps on rodeohouston.com will reveal which ride passes closest to you and the locations of their planned stops.
The Texas Independence Trail Riders pass through my area and that, with the combination of the fact that they were founded in my birth year, makes it a must-see on my calendar every year. And honestly . . . where else are you going to be able to see a trail ride pass the space shuttle?
It’s such fun to see multiple generations enjoying the experience, all of the wonderful Western wear, three century-old wagons, people of all ages coming out to see them and – of course – all of the animals. This particular ride works year-round to support special needs children, Texas EquuSearch and families in need. Many of the horses on their ride are actually rescued animals.
The rides also stop at local schools so that children can experience the animals, wagons and participants. I was with them yesterday when they made one of these stops and I cannot overstate the joy on the faces of the children – and their teachers.
I have a huge amount of respect for the families that carry on this tradition. Many have to take time off from work and other obligations to participate. Along the multiple day rides they camp out in a variety of locations, and there always seem to be a few “weather challenges.” But whatever it takes, they all seem to do it with a smile and are ready to share a wave and a chat to visitors along the way.
There’s a tiny town in far west Texas that really gets to the heart of things…and its name says it all: Valentine. The city limits sign lists its population as 217, but anyone who lives there will tell you that’s an exaggeration.
This time of year Valentine’s small post office is bustling, processing thousands of pieces of mail from all over the world – including 30 foreign countries. Surprised? You see, it’s become a tradition to send Valentines through the town’s post office so they receive special, customized romantic post marks that change every year. You can find all the details about that in one of my earlier blog posts, HERE.
Valentine, Texas Post Office
Last year I sent my own round of Valentines through the post office, and this year I was happy to finally get to see the post office halfway between Marfa and Van Horn in person.
There are two versions of the story about how Valentine got its name, and locals happily embrace both. When a Southern Pacific Railroad crew finished laying tracks in 1882, they needed to establish a stopping point for fuel. Since it was Valentine’s Day, they named the station Valentine. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the president of Wells Fargo and a significant stock holder in the railroad was named John Valentine – so they could easily say it was in his honor as well.
Trains began running through the town in 1883, and in 1886 its now infamous post office was established.
By 1890, Valentine boasted about 100 citizens, two saloons, a general store, a hotel and a meat market. Ranchers in the area took advantage of the railroad to ship cattle out of town to markets.
The settlement has the unusual distinction of being the site of the largest earthquake known to have occurred in Texas. At 5:40 a.m. on August 16, 1931 a 6.5 magnitude quake really shook things up, damaging every building and even rotating gravestones in the local cemetery.
By the 1950s though, roadways and trucking were becoming more established and led to the demise of Valentine’s rail depot…and eventually local businesses. One that managed to stay open for years was a small café, where James Dean frequently ate while filming the 1956 movie “Giant” with Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson nearby. Pretty big excitement for a small, dusty town.
James Dean at the Cafe
Today Valentine looks a lot more like a classic ghost town, although it does still have living residents and even its own school. To find the post office you’ll need to drive west all the way (and yes, it only takes a minute) through Valentine past abandoned buildings, and the post office is on your right just at the edge of town.
If you can’t visit Valentine for yourself, mark your calendar to send your mail their way several weeks before their namesake holiday next year. It’s a sweetly unique Texas tradition.
It was a brisk morning on Saturday, but luckily the sun was shining for the annual commemoration ceremony at Galveston’s Trinity Episcopal Cemtery for those lost in the Battle of Galveston. The event was hosted by the Edward Lea Camp of the Sons of Union Veterans of the Civil War. Thank you to everyone who came from near and far to attend.
The ceremony takes place each January and is free for the public to attend. You can find out more about Edward Lea, the naval officer whose marker the event centers around HERE.
The following are some photos from yesterday’s ceremony.
Ahhhh, romantic Irish castles. Something that makes this Irish lady’s heart swoon. But wait…this is no castle at all. It’s actually the Shelby County Courthouse in far east Texas!
Architect John Joseph Emmett Gibson, a native of Ireland who was hired to design the building in Center Texas in 1883, wanted to give his masterpiece the appearance of the castles of his homeland complete with turrets, towers and even secret passageways.
Gibson not only designed and oversaw the construction of the two-story Romanesque Revival courthouse, he had over two million bricks specially made for the project. The mortar was made from sand carried from forty miles away in Louisiana by oxcarts. The glass, vents, and diamond-shaped braces also made the journey from New Orleans and other Southern ports before being transported by oxen.
It was a grand undertaking that took two years to complete, but has provided a jewel of a centerpiece to the town square for generations.
A total of twelve fireplace chimneys surround the top of the beautiful structure like a crown. Accented with arched entryways, tall slender windows and diminutive buttresses, it’s topped by a frame cupola.
The courthouse has an entry in the middle of each side, but the primary entrance is on the north facade.
The second floor courtroom is a large and lofty space, with exposed wooden trusses supporting the roof that more give the appearance of being inside a cathedral than a courthouse. The curved alcove behind the judge’s bench helped to amplify his voice in the days before sound systems were even a dream.
The wooden jury chairs aren’t original, having been obtained from another historic Texas courthouse in Nacogdoches. But the benches used by visitors are not only original, they display a decidedly European detail for those who take the time to look closely: metalwork feet depicting dragons’ feet, wind in back of the benches into the beasts’ bodies, wings and ending in heads peering over the top where they are swallowing their own tails. Probably not something most of the local cowboys and farmers had seen before!
Gibson took Texas’ extreme weather into consideration in his design, utilizing high-arched windows that would open allow breezes to circulate air beneath the vaulted ceiling. It provided some relief from the summer heat, but also caused a bit of a problem with birds flying indoors. One funny story tells of the time that an errant bird circling inside the courtroom was such a distraction that the judge asked if someone could do something about it. One loud, reverberating gunshot later the distraction was gone.
Every good castle should have at least one secret passageway, and the Shelby County Courthouse is no exception. On the floor to the left of the judge’s chair is an escape hatch (yes, really). If the verdict handed down upset the crowd, the judge could open the hatch climb down the stairs and escape through a one-way door. His deputies were in charge of keeping an eye on the crowd until he mounted his horse and got away, before releasing them for the day.
If that were scripted into a Western, it’d be downright comical.
The boards in the center of the courthouse come together at a point said to be the center of the county. When the building was renovated, the local Daughters of the Republic of Texas purchased an 1885 silver dollar coin to have imbedded at that spot.
An interesting side note: In 1948, a young Texas congressman began his successful U. S. Senate campaign in front of the Shelby County Courthouse.
The courthouse, now listed on the National Historic Register, cost $26,000 to build, and over $1 million to renovate in the 1980s. But J.J.E. Gibson was never paid for his work. Whether that was an unfortunate oversight or the county just couldn’t afford it remains a bit of a mystery. The sister to the Shelby County Courthouse, it’s identical 1885 twin in Carthage, Panola County, was unfortunately torn down in 1957.
It probably shouldn’t come as any surprise that Texas has more historic courthouses than any other state, but did you know that of the 254 counties in the state – 242 of these treasured pieces of architecture are still in active government use? They can be a terrific focus for making a road trip checklist – helping you choose large and small towns to visit. Do you have a favorite?
Happy New Year! Heading into 2022 I’m looking forward to hitting the open road again.
I’ve been having a great time working on travel itineraries for the next few months. Some fun adventures are in the works – near and far, new and repeat collaborations and a few openings for spontaneous trips as well.
What kind of trips are calling to you?
week-long vacation
weekend getaway
mother/daughter trip
hometown tourist
second honeymoon
besties roadtrip
solo adventure
“me and my dog” trip
art lovers tour
culinary exploration
something else
Share your travel wishlist for 2022 in the comments! I’d love to hear about it.
It’s hard to believe that the USS Texas won’t be moored at the San Jacinto Battlegrounds across from the Monument any longer. I’ve been visiting this historic ship here since I was a kid. This is the last weekend that it will be here before heading to dry dock for some much-needed repairs. After that, she’ll go to her new home . . . which hasn’t quite been decided yet.
Now this isn’t just any old ship. Commissioned in 1914 (yep, over 100 years ago), she’s one of the few surviving Dreadnaughts and a veteran of two world wars. That makes the Texas one of the oldest surviving battleships in existence. If you’re at all interested in naval history, hers is worth reading about.
Constructed of iron, wood and steel the years and elements have taken their toll and previous “bandaid” repairs aren’t going to help any more. So the state, who owns the ship, has dedicated $35 million to her refurbishment with the understanding that they will no longer pay for repairs. (Yikes!) That’s part of why the ship needs to relocate. It will take a lot more visitors to pay the bills from here on out.
They have installed 750,000 gallons of expanded foam to reduce the water she’s taking on from over 2,000 gallons per minute to under 20 gallons per minute. That should make her stable enough to be towed to dry dock in Galveston for repairs.
After she’s, well . . . ship shape again, she will either be berthed in Baytown, Beaumont or at the Sea Wold Park in Galveston alongside the Stewart and the Cavalla. (I have my fingers crossed for Galveston.)
When I found out that my husband (who grew up just about 12 miles away from the San Jacinto Monument Park) had never been aboard the Texas, I decided we needed to take advantage of this “last weekend” to walk her decks. Lots of other locals had the same idea.
In addition to the fascinating things to see on the Texas, including peeks at rarely seen spaces like the officers’ wardroom, Santa was even there – and ya know I can’t resist the guy in red. I even spotted one of those rascally elves in the mess hall. See him hanging on the fridge?
We came away with “Merry Christmas” Battleship Texas T-shirts – not something you see everyday.
Now we’re all going to need some patience to wait during repairs and the decision about her new home. But wherever that will be, I’ll be back aboard when I get the chance.
Have you ever heard of a corpse being fined for carrying a concealed weapon? Or how a stunt pulled in a middle-of-nowhere town in Texas threw the New York Stock Exchange into a panic?
If not, you might not be familiar with Judge Roy Bean’s unique version of “justice” in the Old West. It’s one of the stories my grandfather told me about the notorious lawman – and I’m using the term “lawman” pretty loosely here – that has stayed with me.
When I was a kid, I found an old postcard of The Jersey Lilly on my grandfather’s desk. That’s when he told me some of the stories about Bean. I decided then and there I would see it for myself someday. It took me a l-o-n-g time, but I never forgot about it and finally got there.
Judge Roy Bean. The name that should bring to mind the colorful history of the Wild West, might actually bring to mind the image of Paul Newman in his role playing the famous figure. O.K., well that’s not bad, but the original Bean is a pretty interesting fellow too. Known as the “Law West of the Pecos,” Bean created his own brand of justice with decisions and decrees that came out of the courtroom he called the “Jersey Lilly” inspired countless books and stories.
But let’s back up just a little.
The silver spike that joined the transcontinental tracks of the Southern Pacific’s Sunset Route in 1883 was driven into the ground at nearby Dead Man’s Gulch, connecting train service from New Orleans to San Francisco. The new towns that sprung up along the tracks quickly filled up with rowdies like gamblers, thieves, painted ladies and more. And chaos reigned.
That was a big problem, since the nearest Texas Rangers were 100 miles away. They suggested the townspeople in Langtry appoint a local justice of the peace.
In nearby Vinegarroon, a town named after a whip scorpion by the way, a man named Roy Bean ran a store out of a tent. The locals must have thought he had enough common sense to be in charge, because they appointed him the first Justice of the Peace of Pecos County (now Val Verde County). His brother Joshua, after all, was the first mayor of San Diego.
Now, Bean wasn’t your ordinary representative of the law. His “law library” only included one book: the 1879 edition of the Revised Statutes of Texas. Not that he every consulted it. In fact, pretty much the only law he represented was his own. Need an example?
When a railroad workman fell from a high bridge over the Pecos River (and folks…that’s a l-o-n-g drop), his corpse was brought to Bean’s courthouse, since he also acted as the local coroner. A quick search of the deceased’s pockets revealed that he was carrying a pistol and $40 when he met his demise. The judge rendered a verdict of accidental death, and then promptly fined the corpse $40. You see, there was a $20 fine for concealed weapon, and Bean tacked on a burial fee of $10 and $10 in court costs. Well…guess there was no one to argue about it.
He operated his courtroom in his saloon and chose juries from his best customers. Jurors were expected to buy a drink at each recess, which never seemed to be an issue.
Minor offenses might bring a “fine” of having to buy a round of drinks for Bean, the jurors and anyone else in the bar.
There was no jail in town, so prisoners awaiting trial or serving a sentence were simply chained to the only tree in Langtry.
The governor of Texas in Austin wrote to Langtry calling attention to the fact that no funds ever came to Austin from the judge’s court proceedings. Bean’s response: “Governor, you run things there in Austin and I’ll run things here. My court never cost the state any money.” It was true. The costs of Bean’s and officer salaries were all taken from fines from the court. The matter was never addressed again.
The judge had been on the “receiving end” of Wild West justice as well. In 1854 he courted a woman who was kidnapped and forced to marry a Mexican officer. Mustering up the gutsy bravado he later became known for, Bean confronted the officer – who promptly ordered Bean to be hanged. Luckily, the rope wasn’t taught, and the woman who was the object of his affection ran from her nearby hiding place and cut him down just in time. For the rest of his life, Bean bore rope scars around his neck.
By the 1890s, stories of Bean’s unconventional rulings had made him nationally famous. Travelers on the train passing through Langtry often stopped to visit the broken-down saloon, where a sign proudly declared Bean to be the “Law West of the Pecos.”
And if they didn’t PLAN to stop, they might end up getting a visit anyway. In 1890, Bean heard that railroad developer and speculator Jay Gould would be passing through Langtry on a special train. Not one to miss an opportunity, Bean flagged down the train using a danger signal and the engineer stopped assuming a bridge must be out. Bean boldy proceeded to invite Gould and his daughter to visit the saloon as his guests. The Goulds visited for two hours, causing a brief panic on the New York Stock Exchange when it was reported that Gould had been killed in a train crash.
Regardless of being unpredictable and moody, Bean was admired by locals for bringing the area’s lawlessness under control.
Bean and other rowdies of the day enjoyed games for fun or money in the pool hall attached to the courtroom. Although the judge’s elaborate billiards table has long been gone, the incredible metal legs of the table are still there for visitors to see. Judging by the beautiful lions’ heads and claw feet, it must have been one of the fanciest in Texas.
The Jersey Lillie had a saloon/courtroom, billiard hall, and also served as the judge’s home. In 1896 it burned, and Bean built a small version, with a separate building called the “Opera House” as his residence.
The building known as the “Opera House” was never an opera house. It ended up with that name because of a crush…well, more of an obsession…that Bean had with the famous English actress Lillie Langtry. It’s thought that he believed he could lure the celebrity to his hometown by getting the word out that they had an opera house. He wrote countless letters to the famous beauty hoping she would perform there.
And yes, he also named the famous Jersey Lilly for her…but misspelled the name. A common (understandable) misconception is that the town of Langtry was named for her as well, but it was actually named for one of the construction foremen who worked for the railroad.
Bean became ill during a trip to San Antonio, and returned to Langtry. He passed away on March 16, 1903 in the billiard room where he had spent so many of his later years. And wouldn’t you know it? Lillie Langtry finally visited the Jersey Lillie in 1904 just 10 months after he died. Judge Roy Bean is buried with his son Sam, who was killed in a gunfight, in Del Rio on what now is the grounds of a museum.
The Opera House, Town Hall and Seat of Justice was donated by the Val Verde Historical Commission in 1994 and is maintained by the Texas Department of Transportation as a historic site – which wasn’t nearly this well-maintained decades ago when my grandfather visited. Visitors enter the property through a modern travel information center to visit the buildings and read about their history.
On one section of the wall of the restored home, adobe blocks were left exposed during a restoration to show how it was built. Look closely and you might be able to spot plant fibers, horse and sheep manure and small animal bones in addition to the dirt, since the materials were probably taken from the corral that used to stand behind the saloon.
What I wasn’t expecting when I visited was to also find an incredible Cactus Garden Interpretive Trail that winds through the property behind the travel center. Designed with stone paths, bridges, a windmill and meticulously labeled varieties of native Texas plants – we spent almost as much time enjoying it as we did the buildings we came to see. Be sure to include enough time in your schedule to enjoy it for yourself!
Judge Roy Bean’s famous Jersey Lilly is well worth a visit if you’re in the area, or a detour if you’re anywhere in Val Verde County. If you end up in his courtroom today, you won’t be able to order a beer – but you won’t get fined for anything, either!
You can visit the Judge Roy Bean Museum & Langtry Travel information Center at 526 State Loop 25 in Langtry.
Public art in the form of murals has become so popular in recent years, but they aren’t anything new. The next time you drive through a small town in Texas, stop into the local post office and take a look around. You might just find fine art where you’d least expect it.
Often referred to as “WPA murals,” examples of fine artwork created to enhance public buildings were actually a gift from the government to its citizens.
But, first thing’s first . . . the painting in Alpine wasn’t actually created as part of the Works Progress Administration. The WPA (I’m not going to drown you in details here) was created in 1935 as part of the “Second New Deal” to provide jobs for unemployed men during the depression. Most of the jobs were in construction, building roads, bridges, schools, parks, and airports. There were also artists recruited by the WPA, but they were given fairly free rein in the subjects they painted.
The murals I’d like to introduce you to were created by the Treasury Department Section of Painting and Sculpture which was created a year earlier than the WPA. It was later called the Section of Fine Arts. The goal of this program was to “secure for the Government the best art which this country is capable of producing.” Luckily for us, this art was contracted to decorate federally owned buildings, including hundreds of post offices around the county. That meant that everyone could enjoy fine art in their everyday lives, and the hope was that it would uplift the spirits of citizens during the hard times.
As one writer summed it up, “One boosted paychecks, and the other boosted morale.”
Professional artists (no students or amateurs could apply) entered competitions for Section assignments and were encouraged to visit the individual communities so their artwork would reflect local life or history. And unlike the WPA paintings, Section artists had to have their proposed artwork approved by committee and were limited in the subjects they were allowed to portray.
One project of “The Section” placed artists in Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camps to create paintings of CCC work and life, and to make safety posters and decorate camp buildings for that project. The Section even provided sculptures to be exhibited at the New York World’s Fair in 1939.
By the end of the program (brought on by World War II) 1,047 murals and 268 sculptures had been created – which is pretty darn amazing. You can still find some of them today, but many have been lost due to building restorations, demolitions or public buildings being bought by private owners.
Anyway….
That’s why I went looking for an example in Alpine on a recent trip through West Texas. The subject especially spoke to me, since it portrays people reading. And nothing makes the heart of someone who writes books happier than seeing someone reading!
It was installed in 1940 inside the town’s new post office which was built by…you guessed it…the WPA.
The building on the corner of 6th Street and Avenue E served as the town’s post office through 2000, when it became the appraisal office for Brewster County. Since that building is open to the public, you can still see the mural in person during weekday business hours. You just have to walk a bit to the left and peer around a few light fixtures and bulletin boards!
In 1939, a Spanish-American artist Jose Moya del Pino (1891-1969) living in San Francisco entered a TDSFA competition to paint a post office mural in San Antonio. His design depicting Sam Houston and the Alamo didn’t win, but he received a consolation assignment at the new Alpine building. The sketches he submitted with a “View of Alpine” did the trick that time.
Jose couldn’t afford to travel to Texas to take a look at the town for ideas, so he asked for suggestions from the local postmistress, who told him about the local college, cowboys and scenery. From there he went to work painting this 4’ x 12’ work in oil on Masonite. He even used a neighbor who happened to own a hat and boots as his model for the cowboy.
When he completed the work in 1940, he accompanied it to Alpine for the installation and unveiling. The depiction of three locals relaxing with books on a hillside, with the Twin Sisters Peaks and Sul Ross State College (now University) in the background were a hit. The only question one local had was why a cowboy would be reading when the cattle were roaming unattended. (A valid question from someone who would probably never let that happen!)
I love the style and subject matter of this painting. It portrays an idealized but beautiful vision of our state, and it was well worth the stop whether you call it a Section or WPA creation.
Now, who’s ready to go out and hunt down a few more these treasures?
Old, abandoned stone building? (I’m slowing down as I’m driving by.)
Bars on the door and windows? (I’m definitely stopping.)
My first guess that this had to be an old jail turned out to be right on target.
This lonely structure was the Buchel County Jail back when Marathon Texas was the county seat between 1887 and 1897.
Wait . . . Buchel County? Nope, you’re not losing your marbles. There’s no Buchel County in the Lone Star State! Both Buchel and Foley Counties were absorbed into Brewster County – now the largest county in Texas – when their populations failed to flourish as well as expected.
There was good reason to want a sturdy jail in town. West Texas was still a pretty wild place filled with cantankerous cowboys and outlaws back then.
But before the town had an actual building for that purpose, a windmill in the middle of North First Street was Marathon’s first jail. Drunks and other petty offenders were chained to one of its legs, and serious offenders were taken down the road to the Alpine jail.
Later, a one-room adobe house behind French’s Store served as a jail but, after several colorful escapes, locals decided that a better “calaboose” was in order, so this rock jailhouse was built.
It was constructed just south of the old Ritchey store in town, of rocks dug from a ledge on the northwest side of town. Talk about working with on-hand materials!
I can’t even imagine how hot it was inside this jail during the hot west Texas summer months!
When the Alpine jail was remodeled in 1901, their two old “cages” manufactured by Diebold Safe and Lock were brought to this location and installed. If you peer through the boars on the front door you can easily read the identifying word “L. T. Noyes – Houston, Texas” on the cell locking mechanism on the wall.
Now this is pretty neat for fans of old-times Texas. Lucius T. Noyes was an agent for the Diebold Safe & Lock Company of Canton, Ohio. From his Houston office on the corner of Congress Avenue and San Jacinto Street he established a far reaching reputation in the world of “security.”
In addition to selling and installing over 50 county vaults and safes in Texas, Louisiana and surrounding states; and countless of the same for banks – he became quite a celebrity as a jail builder.
He sold the steel and iron fittings for the facilities and personally oversaw the construction and contract work for over 100 jails including this one, the impressive 1897 Fort Bend County Jail that now serves as the Richmond Police Department, the 1887 San Jacinto County Jail in Coldspring, the 1894 Glasscock County Jail in Garden City, and the 1886 Live Oak County Jail in Oakville.
I imagine he wasn’t too popular with the bad guys!
Stealing a peek through the door and windows, it looks like there might have been a museum at Marthon’s little jail at some point, and the decaying remnants are admittedly a bit creepy. That mannequin will definitely take you off guard, but you can clearly see the jail cells, photos of what are probably local lawmen of the past on the wall, and broken display cases – whose contents I can only hope were safely removed before the damage. I’d love to see this “attraction” re-opened for a closer look.
You can find the former Buchel County Jail in Marathon behind the Ritchey Brothers building on South 2nd Street between Avenues C and D.
Have you ever search for an outlaw while on a vacation? They can be found in the most unexpected places, and it might not be as dangerous as it sounds.
If you recognize this famous photo, you might just be an Old West enthusiast like I am! It’s Butch Cassidy (bottom right), the Sundance Kid (bottom left) and the Wild Bunch, and is known as the “Fort Worth Five” photo.
That fellow sitting in the middle – known as “The Tall Texan” – was the subject of my search in Sanderson, Texas. He was a handsome guy, but didn’t always make good choices.
Ben Kilpatrick was born just east of San Angelo in 1874. He worked as a cowboy for several years before he became acquainted with Texas outlaws Sam and Tom Ketchum, and ended up riding with the Ketchum Gang.
After a failed train robbery that ended in several of the members being caught, Kilpatrick fled to Robber’s Roost in Utah and joined the Wild Bunch. After some success, he and his girlfriend Laura Bullion made their way to St, Louis where they were arrested. Kilpatrick was seated to 15 years in prison for robbery, and Laura was sentence to five. After serving 31/2 years she was released, and went to Tennessee under an assumed name to make a new life.
Kilpatrick, on the other hand, was released after 10 years and went immediately back to a life of crime. Bad decision…
Train number 7 of the Galveston, Harrisburg & San Antonio Railroad pulled out of Del Rio on the evening of March 12, 1912. It made a brief stop for water in Dryden, but as it pulled away from the station Kilpatrick and Ole Hobek ( a friend from his prison days) jumped aboard.
The masked robbers ordered the engineer to go to the first iron bridge east of Baxter’s Curve, about halfway to Sanderson. Once there the bandits ordered the train to stop and the passenger cars and caboose uncoupled from the engine, mail and baggage cars.
Leaving the passengers behind, they ordered the engine across the bridge and about a mile down the tracks, where the robbers had staged horses for their getaway.
Hobek kept a gun on the engineer while Kilpatrick went back to the baggage car with Wells Fargo Express agent David Trousdale. As they were making their way to the back of the car, Trousdale picked up a mallet from a shipment of frozen oysters and hid it in his clothing. (Frozen oysters…who would have thought THAT would be on the train?!)
Kilpatrick was so busy filling a bag with $60,000 he didn’t see Trousdale sneak up to hit him over the head with the mallet. (Ouch!) The outlaw was killed with the one blow. Trousdale took the bandit’s gun and returned to the engine where he shot and killed Hobek just after midnight.
With the threat ended, the engineer backed up the train, re-coupled the passenger cars and proceeded to Sanderson.
The dead train robbers were held up for photographs, and later buried in a joint grave at Cedar Grove Cemetery in Sanderson. Trousdale, of course, was rewarded for his bravery.
Now known as the Baxter’s Curve Train Robbery (or the Sanderson Train Robbery), it was one of the last train robberies in the state.
In 2019, the mallet used in the incident, a photo of the dead bandits and the Wells Fargo accounts were sold at auction in Arizona for $64,900. It’s a bit ironic how close that amount is to the amount that the robber’s might have gotten away with, had there not been a quick thinking agent on board.
The train robbers’ grave was fairly easy to locate, surrounded by a decorative wrought iron fence and gate. The concrete slab that covers the plot was most likely poured in an effort to prevent gruesome souvenir hunters from robbing the grave.
As a taphophile, or someone who studies cemeteries, I’m always amazed at the stories that lie behind the stones if you only take time to investigate!
Yesterday I met up with the Texas Independence Trail Riders, one of eleven rides who make their way to Houston in time for the Houston Rodeo Parade. After having no rodeo last year, this year’s ride seems like a special celebration.
Today, thousands of people (men, women and children) participate in the 11 trail rides that wind along their own specific routes from all over Texas and Louisiana covering a cumulative 1,300 miles! The Valley Lodge Trail, at 71.5 miles, is the shortest. The Mission Trail ride covers 239 miles between San Antonio and Houston, winning the prize for longest ride.
The fun thing for those of us not lucky enough to saddle up and ride along is that the groups make many stops along the way. A quick check of the trail maps on rodeohouston.com will reveal which ride passes closest to you and the locations of their planned stops.
The rides also stop at local schools so that children can experience the animals, wagons and participants. I was with them yesterday when they made one of these stops and I cannot overstate the joy on the faces of the children – and their teachers.
I have a huge amount of respect for the families that carry on this tradition. Many have to take time off from work and other obligations to participate. Along the multiple day rides they camp out in a variety of locations, and there always seem to be a few “weather challenges.” But whatever it takes, they all seem to do it with a smile and are ready to share a wave and a chat to visitors along the way.
