EXPLORE - January 2018

JANUARY 2018

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CONTENTS

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Marjorie Hagy History Marjorie is a bibliophile, a history nut and an insomniac, among several other conditions, both diagnosed and otherwise. When she's not working tirelessly to avoid getting a real job, she nurses an obsession with her grandson and is involved in passing legislation restricting the wearing of socks with sandals. She is an aspiring pet hoarder who enjoys vicious games of Scrabble, reading Agatha Christie, and sitting around doing nothing while claiming to be thinking deeply. Marjorie has five grown children, a poodle to whom she is inordinately devoted in spite of his breath, and holds an Explore record for never having submitted an article on time. She's been writing for us for five years now.

Old Timer Just Old Timer The Old Timer tells us he's been a resident of Boerne since about 1965.

He enjoys telling people what he doesn't like. When not bust'n punks he can be found feeding the ducks just off Main St. or wandering aimlessly in the newly expanded HEB. Despite his rough and sometimes brash persona, Old Timer is really a wise and thoughtful individual. If you can sort through the BS.

Kendall D. Aaron Spiritual

12

From The Publisher

28 Boerne Then and Now

14

Calendar

32 History

18 Art of Stone Masonry

24 Resolutions

EXPLORE magazine is published by Schooley Media Ventures

36 Spiritual

22 This Month in Texas History

in Boerne, TX. EXPLORE Magazine and Schooley Media Ventures are not responsible for any inaccuracies, erroneous

40 Predictions 42

information, or typographical errors contained in this publication submitted by advertisers. Opinions expressed

Old Timer

do not necessarily reflect the opinions of EXPLORE and/or Schooley Media Ventures. Copyright 2016 Schooley Media

26 Tango Fire

Ventures, 930 E. Blanco, Ste. 200, Boerne, TX 78006

Publisher Benjamin D. Schooley ben@hillcountryexplore.com

10 | EXPLORE

I’m just a normal guy. I’m not a theology student, I don’t preach in church, and I’ve never written a book. I’m just a normal guy that thinks, and feels, and is on a never-ending journey attempting to be the best person I can be. I fail frequently at this quest, yet each day, the quest continues. I’ve lived in Boerne since the late ‘80s, I’ve got a most beautiful wife, three wonderful children, and just really, really love God. Thanks for going on my spiritual journey with me.

Operations Manager Peggy Schooley peggy@smvtexas.vom

Creative Director Benjamin N. Weber ben.weber@smvtexas.com

ADVERTISING SALES 210-507-5250 sales@hillcountryexplore.com

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM BOERNE’S NEWEST BAR AND LIVE MUSIC VENUE. |

NE XT TO LIT TLE GRETEL

|

DEAREST EXPLORE READER, work trail that I have known about for years in my truck, and found a deep spot on the river. As we all know, the majority of the land leading down to the river is a flood area, so there were no houses. No property markers.

The houses were hundreds and hundreds of yards away and honestly, you had no idea where property lines were marked. It was just a bumpy old road that would take you down to the river.

So that’s what I did.

I proceeded to sit on a tree stump with my rod in my hand, and smile as I listened to the wind whisper through the trees. I had little more than my old tackle box with me. No coolers. No radios. No friends that were hooting and hollering. Just little old me and my little old fishing pole.

A long time ago, I loved fishing in this area. I’m not sure where my pursuit of fishing came from, but I spent a considerable amount of time in my high school days seeking out the finest fishing areas that this area could offer up. Sitting beside a stocked cattle pond enjoying a beautiful Saturday was pretty much one of the finest ways to spend a day. Having lived here since the ‘80s, I assure you that I have fished virtually every body of water from Boerne to Kerrville and back.

In the pursuit of these gorgeous fishing spots, I must admit that my teenaged self and my friends broke virtually every trespassing law that has ever existed. We jumped every fence, explored every caliche road and discovered every secret path to get to these hidden gem locations. We found the hidden access point, we snuck around in the bushes, and we hid my car so that we could get to these beautiful and pristine fishing grounds that the Hill Country calls home without upsetting anyone.

For the most part, we never caused any troubles. We were just some kids out with our fishing poles, eating from our sack lunches, and just horsing around. Every once in a while, a rancher would show up and chat with us.

In the dozen times this happened, either he would come up on us and chit/chat about how our fishing luck was working, or he would say “Boys, this is private property.

Ya’ll shouldn’t be out here so it’s probably best if you move along.” We’d politely say “Yessir. We meant no harm” and we’d be on our way. He’d wish us well, and would typically point in the general direction of the landowner’s home and tell us to feel free to knock on the door next time and check to see if we could get access. My point is that, yes, we were shooed off every once in a while, but it wasn’t done out of fear or threat or anger.

Since the dawn of time, people have migrated to riverbanks to sit with their feet in the water while holding an old rod and trying their luck at catching some dinner.

It’s one of the reasons that God gave us rivers, I suppose.

Sometimes you catch nothing, but just the act of sitting beneath a giant Cypress on the banks of the Guadalupe fixes your soul.

Last weekend, I wanted to go fishing.

I so very rarely have time to go fishing anymore, but darn it, I really really wanted to sit on the banks and just wet a line for a couple of hours. So as I had done in the past, I traveled to the farthest recesses of a particular neighborhood that abuts the Guadalupe. I went down a

12 | EXPLORE

As I stood up to check my line a few minutes after arrival, I was abruptly startled with a shout of “HEY! What are you doing down there?!!” The balding man at the top of the trail was obviously irritated and I smirked to myself before I answered as I thought, “Well, what do you THINK I’m doing down here by the river with a fishing pole in my hand?”

To cut to the chase, I was formally dressed down as a dangerous law-breaking outlaw for trespassing on his neighbor’s property and that I should be arrested. I pointed out that I was down here by myself, had no trash, and was simply fishing. I meant no harm and would politely leave despite his aggression. He was red-faced, huffing and puffing, and glared at me as I packed up to leave. He went on and on about where the property lines were, despite there being no markers (because I suppose I was supposed to have a topographical property map on me, I suppose). I loaded up, waved politely, and departed.

As I slowly bounced up the road, the actual land owner came running down the road and we repeated the whole process. I was angrily addressed, threatened with police intervention, and blah, blah, blah. I nodded my head, again said I was just fishing for a few minutes, and that I was just trying to leave as I meant no harm. I was on an obvious road that provided access, parked where I should, and was sitting alone fishing. However, I understand, and I apologized for the intrusion. He glared at me, sputtered something more about property rights, and I split.

As I left the area, I wasn’t angry. I think, more than anything, I was sad.

I know that I’m not a teenager anymore, and I probably don’t get the benefit of the doubt like I might have gotten as a “knucklehead kid”, but the entire episode caused me to just feel sad for the rest of the day.

For one, I felt sad that there are so few places to get access to our area’s natural beauty. Back in the day, this entire area was little but ranchland. Huge, sprawling ranches where the odds of seeing another soul were slim to none.

You could wander along the bank of the river, casting to your heart’s content, and you would almost never stumble upon anyone. Nowadays, the land has been so carved up by these little ranchettes that the access has proven extremely difficult to find. Sure, there's the State Parks and the bridge access points, but so many of those old caliche roads that provided access are now behind someone’s extremely expensive gate.

More importantly, it bummed me out because of what it said about US as people and citizens. As I left the area and tossed my ball cap on the dash of my truck, I ran my hands through my hair and thought to myself “That little exchange is EXACTLY what is wrong with the world.

Everyone is terrified of everyone.”

I swear that if I had land on the Guadalupe and I stumbled upon a gentleman sitting with a fishing rod in his hand, without trash or loud music or empty beers lying around, I’d probably be tempted to take a seat and check in on his success with the fishing hole.

Yes, I could probably hyperventilate and throw him off my property under threat of arrest, but man, life’s too short for that shit.

I’m not sure if this type of aggression is due to transplants that have moved here from large cities and are wary of anyone that have breached their property defenses, or if it’s simply due to people watching too much CNN. Maybe it’s just due to the amount of money that riverfront property costs nowadays and people are overly protective.

I suppose I don’t really care.

This whole story is simply to say this: People, we are ALL just people. We all like to sit by the riverbank and try to catch a catfish, and even if that happens on your property, it doesn’t mean that we are ISIS terrorists planning to destroy you. We’re just simply people trying to waste a few hours. I know that there are bad apples and you’ll end up picking up trash, but for the most part, we’re all just trying to co-exist. I wonder what would happen if you came upon a person fishing and sat down and simply… talked. Gasp! You might actually meet a new person that meant you absolutely no harm, was respectful of the land and your property, and simply appreciated the beauty of the area.

I wonder what our world would look like if we stopped being so damned terrified of one another and were aware that, just like you, we all just like to EXPLORE sometimes.

In order to do so, sometimes we might have to bend a few rules, perhaps.

Just wave to me on my journey.

Welcome to January. It is a new year, and I don’t know about you, but I’m so glad to wave goodbye to 2017. May you find that old caliche road, EXPLORE the beauty of this area, and may you be greeted by nothing but swaying Cypress trees, dark green tranquil waters, and peace.

Smiling, Benjamin D. Schooley.

ben@hillcountryexplore.com

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Na zdraví

518 RIVER ROAD | BOERNE, TX | WWW.LITTLEGRETEL.COM | 830-331-1368

AREA EVENTS

Get out and enjoy the great Texas Hill Country!

The most comprehensive events calendar. Send submissions to info@hillcountryexplore.com

January 6 Symphony of the Hills: “The Magic of Disney” Enjoy music from the Magic Kingdom. Cailloux Theater, 910 Main St. symphonyofthehills.org January 21-27 Hill Country District Junior Livestock Show Enjoy the fun and excitement at the fifth largest junior livestock show in Texas. Kerr County Hill Country Youth Event Center, 3785 SH 27. hcdjls.org

BANDERA January 2 Cowboy Capital Opry Grand Old Opry-style entertainment hosted by Gerry and Harriet Payne. Enjoy refreshments and door prizes. Silver Sage Community Center, 803 Buck Creek. silversagecorral.org January 6, 13, 20, 27 Bandera Cattle Company Gunfighters Experience the excitement of the Wild West with the award-winning Bandera Cattle Company Gunfighters, recreating shootouts and daily life of the Old West. Shows are at high noon and 2 p.m. Bandera Visitor Center, 126 SH 16. banderacattlecompany.com January 6 The Old Timers Trading Post Meet local artists and artisans. The Old Timer, 14178 SH 16.

January 11-13 Bandera County Junior Livestock Show Youth of Bandera County show their livestock on Thursday and Friday, before an auction is held on Saturday. Mansfield Park January 14 Frontier Times Museum Cowboy Camp Enjoy traditional cowboy music. You are welcome to bring your guitar and join in the song circle. Bring your own refreshment and chair. Frontier Times Museum, 510 13th St. frontiertimesmuseum.org January 18 Cowboy Camp Come out and enjoy the pickers circle and join in if you wish. Bandera Beverage Barn Pavillion, 1407 SH 16.

January 27 Wild Game Dinner Expertly cooked wild game dinner featuring venison prepared many different ways, from chili to gumbo to sliders. Other game entrees also served. Grace Lutheran Church, 451 SH 173.

BOERNE January 13-14 Boerne Market Days Since 1850, Main Plaza has been a center point of trade for the people of Boerne. In the present day, on the second weekend of every month, Main Plaza is home to a magical outdoor market that blends the traditions of the Texas Hill Country with the creations of today’s culture. Hundreds of festive booths display everything from collectibles and remembrances of the past to modern innovations that will bring a smile of wonder to those who stroll past. Scrumptious food and captivating music top the experience and delight the senses. Main Plaza, 100 N. Main. visitboerne.org January 23 “Tango Fire” The hottest Tango company in Buenos Aires takes you on an explosive journey tracing the history of the art form from its origin through its evolution into contemporary ballroom styles. The show delivers an evening of high-energy and sophistication that will leave you breathless. Twelve spectacular dancers are accompanied by a quartet of brilliant musicians, promising an electrifying evening that showcases some of the speediest footwork and tightest twirling in the dance business. Champion High School Auditorium, 201 Charger Blvd. visitboerne.org January 26-Feb. 10 “Incorruptible” Welcome to Priseaux, France, c. 1250 A.D.: The river flooded again last week. The chandler’s shop just burned to the ground. Nobody’s heard of the wheelbarrow yet. And Saint Foy, the patron of the local monastery, hasn’t worked a miracle in 13 years. In other words, the Dark Ages still look rather dark. All eyes turn to the Pope, whose promised visit will surely encourage other pilgrims to make the trek and restore the abbey to its former glory. That is, until a rival church claims to possess the relics of Saint Foy and “their” bones are working miracles.

All seems lost until the destitute monks take a lesson from a larcenous one-eyed minstrel, who teaches them an outrageous new way to pay old debts. Boerne Community Theatre, 907 E. Blanco. visitboerne.org

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BULVERDE January 27-28 Chamber Rodeo On Saturday night, celebrate current and former military with a special military appreciation event. On Sunday afternoon, bring out the kids for a family-friendly day of fun complete with a petting zoo and more. Talented coloring contest winners will be on full display for all to see and of course there will be two rounds of mutton bustin’ and a fast-paced calf scramble event. Prior to the rodeo, Tejas Cowboy Church will be having a service on the dance floor. Tejas Rodeo Company, 401 Obst Road. bsbchamberrodeo.com COMFORT January 12-13 Kendall County Junior Livestock Show and Sale Friday’s show features all animals (except poultry).

Participating children, families, and other visitors fe el the excitement in the air that comes with competition. But there is so much more than simply winning that comes from the event. Raising livestock is a fabulous teaching experience that brings families together and develops lifelong friendships.

Kids learn not only the mechanics but also the underlying sense of responsibility and what it takes to get a job done well. Kendall County Youth Agriculture & Equestrian Center, 649 FM 289. visitboerne.org FREDERICKSBURG January 5 First Friday Art Walk Fredericksburg Tour fine art galleries offering special exhibits, demonstrations, refreshments, and extended viewing hours the first Friday of every month. Various locations. ffawf.com January 19-21 Fredericksburg Trade Days Shop with more than 400 vendors in seven barns, featuring acres of antiques, a biergarten, live music, and more. 7 miles east on US 290 across from Wildseed Farms. fbgtradedays.com January 20-21 Hill Country Gem and Mineral Show The Fredericksburg Rockhounds present artifacts, exhibits, demonstrations, jewelry, minerals, fossils, and much more.

Pioneer Pavilion at Lady Bird Johnson Municipal Park. fredericksburgrockhounds.org January 20 Luckenbach Blues Festival The 11th annual event is an all-day celebration featuring local, regional, and Texas blues artists in historic Luckenbach Texas. Luckenbach Texas, 412 Luckenbach Town Loop. luckenbachtexas.com January 21 ROCO Brass Quintet Presented by Fredericksburg Music Club and featuring members of the brass section of the River Oaks Chamber Orchestra. Admission by free-will donation. Fredericksburg United Methodist Church, 1800 N. Llano. fredericksburgmusicclub.com January 27 Hill Country Indian Artifact Show Featuring a wide variety of some of the finest Native American artifacts from Texas and the U.S. including arrowheads, pottery, beads, and books. Pioneer Pavilion at Lady Bird Johnson Municipal Park. hillcountryartifacts.com KERRVILLE January 5 First Friday Wine Share A fun way to meet new or different wines, people, and places of business or art. Please bring no more than one bottle of wine per every two people.

Singles may feel free to bring a bottle every other month.

Try to find the themed bottle of the month (if you can’t, just default to your favorite). Finger foods are always welcome.

Bring your own wine glass—this could be a conversation starter in itself. firstfridaywineshare.com

NEW BRAUNFELS Through January 31, 2019 “War Stories: New Braunfels in World War I” Presented as part of the commemoration of the 100th Anniversary of America’s role in WWI. New Braunfels’ uniquely German character compelled its citizens to respond with fervor once America was at war with Germany. On view in the exhibit will be artifacts from the Sophienburg’s rich collections—posters, photographs, uniforms, and other historical objects to showcase events, individuals and ideology during 1914-1919—as well as touch on the lasting impact of the Great War on America and on this German community. Sophienburg Museum & Archives, 401 W. Coll St. sophienburg.com January 5, 12, 19, 26 Friday Afternoon Club A Gruene Hall tradition where hipsters, oldsters, suits, locals, and drifters mix it up to get their weekend started with cold beer, prize giveaways, and the best in Texas tunes broadcast live by KNBT 92.1 Radio New Braunfels. Gruene Hall, 1281 Gruene Road. gruenehall.com January 6, 13, 20, 27 Farmers Market Enjoy a relaxing Saturday morning listening to live music, eating delicious food, and visiting more than 75 vendors offering local, fresh produce and homemade items. Historic Downtown New Braunfels, 186 S. Castell Ave. nbfarmersmarket.com January 19 The Oak Ridge Boys in Concert The most distinctive and recognizable sounds in the music industry. The fourpart harmonies and upbeat songs have spawned dozens of country hits. Brauntex Performing Arts Theatre, 290 W. San Antonio. brauntex.org January 20 John McEuen and Friends in Concert Ring in the new year with John McEuen—a founding member of The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. Brauntex Performing Arts Theatre, 290 W. San Antonio. brauntex.org SAN MARCOS January 14 Purgatory Trail Run 10 Mile and 5K A USA Track & Field-sanctioned trail race through the beautiful Purgatory Creek Natural Area and Edwards Aquifer recharge zone. The 10-mile course is designed to challenge trail runners with difficult technical sections. The rigorous 5K course has a medium technical rating and is a good introduction to trail running. Walkers and hikers are encouraged to participate.

Purgatory Creek Natural Area Trailhead, Ranch Road 12. corerunningcompany.com January 27-28 Celtic Fest A free celebration of St. Brigid’s Day, considered the first day of spring in Ireland. The festival will feature traditional Irish and Celtic music, and arts and crafts. The family-friendly event is a cultural celebration appropriate for all ages. San Marcos Activity Center, 501 E. Hopkins St. sanmarcostx.gov WIMBERLEY January 13 Second Saturday Gallery Trail Fourteen galleries in and around the Wimberley Square stay open late and offer great art, wine, and appetizers. Downtown Wimberley, 101 Wimberley Square. facebook.com/secondsaturdaygallerytrail January 18 Susanna’s Kitchen Coffeehouse Concert Series The concert series brings the best musical talent to Wimberley every third Thursday. Enjoy great music in an intimate setting. Susanna’s Kitchen at Wimberley United Methodist Church, 1200 CR 1492. wimberleyumc.org January 25-28 Wimberley Art and Soul A series of workshops and classes combined with open houses at various locations throughout Wimberley. facebook.com/wimberleyartandsoul

a e n o y r e v e g n i h s i W

8 1 0 2 D E S S E L B & Y P HAP

! rs u o y o t y l i m a f r u o from

Stay tuned

/RandomTexasFamilyFun t /RandomBeeRGaRdn /RandomTexas

FOR NEW THINGS TO COME

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WWW.HILLCOUNTRYEXPLORE.COM | JANUARY 2017

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ART OF STONE MASONRY

BY KRISTINE DURAN

S

Since man had the ability to make and use tools, stonemasonry has existed. This meticulous craft of shaping rocks into precise geometrical shapes and arranging them accurately has created many historical structures that still stand today, such as the Taj Mahal and the Egyptian Pyramids. So it is no surprise when long-time Boerne resident, J.J. San Miguel of Robert San Miguel & Son Masonry reveals the history that this craft has in the San Miguel lineage and how the art form influences his everyday life.

After dropping out of school at the age of fourteen, J.J.’s father Robert went into stonemasonry. By his twenties, he had started his own business, employing his brothers and even his own father. “It was a whole family thing going on,” J.J. says. “My dad was here, my grandparents were here, and my grandpa’s grandpa was here, so we’ve probably been in the Boerne area for about 130 years.” And once J.J. turned twelve, he was also contributing to the family business every summer.

J.J. went into the Air Force after high school, but took over the business as soon as he returned in 1991. “I kind of got to know all of the guys [over the years], so it was a pretty easy transition when I came back,” J.J. says. Being exposed to the craft since birth, the artistic element of stonemasonry just came as second nature to him.

“I do see myself as an artist,” he says. “I don’t think I have any other artistic side of me, it really all comes down to stone. You get in that niche.” He also sees each of his employees as artists in their own right. “I can look at a house that we’ve done or someone else has done and I can tell you what mason has laid what part and where another mason took over. I can pick out the little things that people do when they’re all laying down different parts of a wall.”

This sophisticated eye for detail is what allows his business to provide clients with what they really want, even if they didn’t know exactly what they wanted to begin with. “Once they get to the designing stage, they already have an idea of what style they’re going for. A lot of the time, you just have to pick their brain to see which way it’s going to go. There are different classes of rock; different styles. Even just the way you clean the mortar off of the stones makes a big difference so you really have to pick your poison one way or another.” But in the end when the client asks J.J., “what do you think?” His trusted opinion sways them 90% of the time.

Much like fashion, trends also affect what is aesthetically pleasing at a particular time as well. “It’s weird because we can go for five years doing nothing but random pieces that are all different shapes, then squares for

18 | EXPLORE

a couple of years, then lueder stone; [the business] has these big cycles that it goes through. It’s really neat.” San Miguel tries to incorporate these trends in any project, whether it is elaborate arches or full masonry fireplaces. One prevalent trend in the industry right now: pizza ovens.

His work mentality doesn’t turn off once the work day is done either. J.J. is constantly looking for new and different types of stone to introduce to his clients. He finds inspiration while running errands or on everyday outings with his family. “I recently went to a wedding in San Antonio in one of the old churches and I kept looking at the stone; checking out how they laid it,” J.J. says. “Anywhere I go, that’s what I’m looking at.”

Most of the work Robert San Miguel & Son do is at Cordillera Ranch; a place they’ve seen transform since its opening. “I still remember when it would rain, trying to get up that main caliche road,” J.J. recollects of the time they worked on the sales office. “I had to put it in four wheel drive to get over the top!” But aside from Cordillera, the entire Boerne area is chockfull of San Miguel’s loyal clients. Without any advertising, the company completely runs off of word of mouth.

“We’ve worked with almost every builder in Boerne over the years.

People that dad has done houses for thirty or forty years ago, we are now stoning those individuals’ kids’ houses.” Although the phone never stops ringing at their offices, J.J. admits that it’s still the humble company his dad began those many years ago.

Now at 78, his dad still drives some of the guys to work every morning. “We’re a small business and we make an honest living. We’re not going to get rich,” J.J. laughs. “But we make a lot of good friends and we meet a lot of good people. We just pay the bills and keep moving on.”

Robert San Miguel & Son Masonry J.J. San Miguel Frzrope2004@aol.com 210-573-5717

WWW.HILLCOUNTRYEXPLORE.COM | JANUARY 2017

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WWW.HILLCOUNTRYEXPLORE.COM | JANUARY 2017

| 21

H

History is a popular topic with our readers. Marjorie Hagy’s HISTORY piece is probably the most popular article in our illustrious publication month after month. With that fact, we thought we’d share some broader Texas history each month. Nothing earth shattering, but we hope you might find something to make you pause and say, “Huh. Well I’ll be.”

January 4th, 1923 Radio station WBAP in Fort Worth established the basic format for country music variety show broadcasting (a format subsequently taken over by Nashville’s “Grand Ole Opry” and Chicago’s “National Barn Dance”) with a program that featured a fiddler, a square-dance caller, and Confederate veteran Capt.

M. J. Bonner. The familiar mélange of wisecracks, music both lugubrious and jolly, and country costumes became immensely popular all across the nation.

WBAP, established by the Fort Worth Star-Telegram under Amon G. Carter in 1922, was looking for its programing forte. Under call letters derived from the words “We Bring A Program,” the station was an innovator in Texas radio. In addition to its “hayride” program, it featured the Light Crust Doughboys, legendary fiddler Eck Robertson, crossover musician Al Stricklin (who began as a jazz pianist and joined the Bob Wills Fiddle Band), and other country stars. But it also had its own “serious” studio orchestra in which such musicians as Don Gillis played. WBAP and the other leading Texas radio stations broke the ground in the 1920s and 1930s for a flourishing music industry.

January 10th, 1901 Spindletop oilfield was discovered on a salt dome south of Beaumont, marking the birth of the modern petroleum industry. Pattillo Higgins, the “prophet of Spindletop,” and others had tried for years to find oil on Spindletop Hill, but with no success. In 1899, however, Higgins hooked up with Anthony F. Lucas.

Despite negative reports from contemporary geologists, Lucas remained convinced that oil was in the salt domes of the Gulf Coast. On January 10 mud began bubbling from a well that Lucas had spudded in the previous October. The startled roughnecks fled as six tons of four-inch drilling pipe came shooting up out of the ground. After several minutes of quiet, mud, then gas, then oil spurted out. The Lucas geyser, found at a depth of 1,139 feet, blew a stream of oil over 100 feet high until it was capped nine days later. The discovery of the Spindletop oilfield had an almost incalculable effect on world and Texas history. Investors spent billions of dollars throughout the Lone Star State in search of oil and natural gas. The cheap fuel they found helped to revolutionize American transportation and

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industry. Many of the major oil companies were born at Spindletop or grew to major corporate size as a result of their involvement at Spindletop, including Texaco, Gulf Oil Corporation, Magnolia Petroleum Company, and Exxon Company, U.S.A.

January 13th, 1974 The airport now known as Dallas–Fort Worth International Airport officially opened. Efforts from 1940 to 1965 to build and operate an airport between Dallas and Fort Worth had failed to satisfy the rival cities, which sometimes operated separate facilities.

The FAA declared itself fed up, and in 1965 the Civil Aeronautics Board ordered the two cities to agree on a location for a regional airport. Construction began in December 1968. In 2000 D–FW was the third largest and fifth busiest airport in the world.

January 17th, 1929 Popeye, the Sailor Man, renowned comic-strip character, first appeared in print. The Victoria Advocate is credited as the first newspaper in the nation to run Elzie Crisler Segar’s comic strip, originally called “Thimble Theatre,” which starred the spinach-eating hero. Segar (1894-1938) was born in Chester, Illinois, and worked as a moving-picture machine operator, a house painter, and a photographer before his first cartoon effort was rejected by a St. Louis paper. Segar became a popular cartoonist in the 1920s. Popeye was probably inspired by Frank “Rocky” Feigle of Segar’s hometown. By 1932 Popeye was the undisputed star of “Thimble Theatre,” as evidenced in fan mail, toys, games, novelties, and jokes.

Segar himself called the Victoria Advocate Popeye’s “hometown.” In gratitude he contributed a special cartoon for the Advocate’s historic 1934 anniversary issue. Speaking to the newspaper’s editor through Popeye, Segar wrote, “Please assept me hearties bes’ wishes an’ felitcitations on account of yer paper’s 88th Anniversity....Victoria is me ol’ home town on account of tha’s where I got born’d at.” Crystal City, Texas, also claims a special relationship to Popeye. The spinach industry credited Popeye and Segar with the 33 percent increase in spinach consumption from 1931 to 1936, and in 1937 Crystal City, the “Spinach Capital of the World,” erected a statue to honor Segar and his sailor.

January 26th, 1945 Audie Murphy, the most-decorated soldier in United States history, earned the Medal of Honor by singlehandedly repelling a German attack. The Texas native enlisted in the United States Army in June 1942.

During World War II he received thirty-three awards, citations, and decorations. After the war he starred in numerous movies, wrote country-and-western songs, and pursued other business interests. Murphy was killed in an airplane crash in 1971 and was buried near the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetery.

January 27th, 1945 Elizabeth Toepperwein died in her home in San Antonio. She was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1882. At eighteen, while working in a Winchester factory, she met Adolph (Ad) Toepperwein, a member of a vaudeville-circuit shooting act who was also employed as an exhibition shooter by the Winchester arms company. After they married in 1903, Ad gave Elizabeth her first shooting lessons and discovered she was a “natural.” By 1904 the Toepperweins were working as a team professionally; their first appearance as a famous husband-and-wife team was at the St. Louis World’s Fair. Elizabeth acquired the nickname “Plinky” during her early shooting lessons.

After several tries, she shot a tin can, which made a “plinking” sound. Elizabeth exclaimed, “I plinked it”-perhaps the first use of this echoic verb now common in shooting publications. She and Ad performed in a career that spanned forty years. Their displays of expertise included shooting while standing on their heads and while lying on their backs. She was the first woman in the United States to qualify as a national marksman with the military rifle and the first woman to break 100 straight targets at trapshooting. She also held the world endurance trapshooting record, hitting 1,952 of 2,000 targets in five hours and twenty minutes.

The celebrated shooter Annie Oakley once said to Plinky, “Mrs. Top, you’re the greatest shot I’ve ever seen.” Memorabilia of the Toepperweins’ career is on display in San Antonio’s Buckhorn Saloon.

EAT HEALTHIER AND DIET

This goes hand in hand with the “lose weight” resolution.

If your diet consists of Big Macs and milkshakes, and this year you eat a piece of broccoli for the first time EVER, then congratulations. Cross it off your list and have a celebratory double quarter pounder with cheese and a small diet coke. A big problem is that diets don’t work.

At least not when you think of it as something with a finish line. It requires a whole mental, and usually lifestyle change as well. You have to WANT to. REALLY truly deep in your bones want it. Because if you don’t, by the end of the year, you’ll be making the exact same resolution.

GET OUT OF DEBT AND SAVE MONEY

10 COMMONLY BROKEN NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS

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This is a good one and definitely easier to see progress on than something more vague like eating healthier.

Simply saying it isn’t good enough though. You need a plan of action. Budget. Follow the plan. Make sacrifices.

It’ll suck that’s for sure. Because you’re not used to it. But the awesome thing about being debt free and being able to save money at the end of a month can feel like a literal weight being lifted from you.

SPEND MORE TIME WITH FAMILY

This is always a good one. Problem is you can’t have the time unless you take it. Work and other responsibilities don’t magically disappear at the start of a new year. Like just about all the resolutions, it will require sacrifices. And time sacrifices that means less “you time” is pretty tall order, no matter how sincere you are.

January. The annual reminder that there are things we TRAVEL TO NEW PLACES want to change about our habits, attitudes and self.

Fantastic. But why haven’t you done it before? Money.

Time. Chances are there’s something you need to sacrifice We’re talking about resolutions. The time of year when or change to make this happen. But define what exactly this means and how you can accomplish it and you’ll be gyms are packed any everyone tells themselves “THIS on the right path.

TIME will be different.” Unfortunately, resolutions are LESS STRESSED usually so vague, you’re all but guaranteed to fail. Here is BE Again, stuff like this doesn’t just disappear at the of the new year. Actually, there’s probably more a list of some of them most commonly broken new year’s beginning of it now. Catching up on emails at work after taking a week off. Dealing with clients who have new ideas or resolutions around.

LOSE WEIGHT AND GET FIT

Probably the number one resolution on 90% of people’s list is to lose weight. Or get healthier. The problem is that simply joining a gym and going a few times won’t get you into those jeans you wore in college. But everyone seems to think that’s all it takes. Which creates another problem.

So many people join a gym in January and February, which crowds the place, which makes it difficult to find a machine or equipment to use, which discourages you and before you know it, it’s June and you haven’t used your membership since March. Don’t be vague. Losing weight, if you’re overweight is certainly a good thing. But don’t just resolve to “lose weight.” Instead make a goal to walk or run 10 miles a week. Something tangible you can strive for. That way, when you hit that goal, you can revise it to 15 miles or whatever, and you’re actually seeing progress.

QUIT SMOKING

This one is tough. Roughly only 13% of people who try to quit, are actually successful. So unfortunately the odds are stacked against you.

LEARN SOMETHING NEW

Again, this is pretty vague. Anyone can go on YouTube and “learn” something new. We suppose that technically if you didn’t know that the elephant is the largest living land animal, then you just learned something new and can cross that off your list. But that’s a pretty low bar to set.

Instead, resolve to learn a skill. Or a language. Again, something you can actually SEE progress towards on a fairly regular basis.

demands for the new year. This, like eating healthier is a mental thing. And it ain’t easy.

VOLUNTEER

This is another time sacrifice. It’s certainly a noble goal.

But that means you’re going to have to carve time out of your schedule and things you want to do, to go help others. And there’s probably a reason why you haven’t done this before now.

DRINK LESS

Yeah, the morning, or afternoon in some cases of January 1 most of us probably feel like this one is a necessity. But will that feeling last another 364 days? If you’re feeling like someone is playing a drum solo in your head on January 1, chances are the issue runs a bit deeper than a cursory and vague “I need to do less of this.”

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TANGO FIRE When Cupid shoots his arrow for a romantic evening with that someone special in your life…Cupid is always looking for ways to make the event passionate, tender, and affectionate. The phrase “It takes two to tango” might be your answer to a very special “date night” in Boerne!

Tango Fire portrays the dance form that is the heart and soul of Buenos Aires…and Champion Auditorium will be transformed into “Boerne Aires” when the prestigious company, Tango Fire, brings the heart and soul of tango dancing to the Texas hill country.

The tango evokes intrigue, fascination, and passion…the raw energy and knife-edge precision of one of the most powerful dances in the world. The tango arrived on the dance scene in Argentina at the turn of the century and increased in popularity through the Roaring Twenties, to the world of contemporary ballroom, and to its present day popularity with the top-rated television shows “Dancing with the Stars” and “So You Think You Can Dance”.

The dancers feature several World Tango Champions and are considered the best dancers from Buenos Aires’ famous tango houses. Choreographed by German Cornejo and dancing with his beautiful partner, Gisela Galeassi, this couple have collectively won 40 gold medals at national competitions and starred with Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony in the stage show “Q’Viva Live Show” at one of the major resorts in Las Vegas.

German & Gisela will be joined by Sebastian & Victoria, Marcos & Louise, Ezequiel & Camila, and Julio & Carla.

Accompanied by a 4-piece Quatrotango (orchestra), Tango Fire highlights ten dancers (5 couples) and a male vocalist. The Quatrotango will feature four world-class musicians playing piano, violin, bandoneón (accordion) and Double Bass.

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The first half of the program shows the nascent dance form emerging at the turn of the last century from a spirited and rhythmic dance that becomes the foundation for the contemporary version. In the second half of the program, the mood switches to where the dance evolves to an art form. Each couple’s focus reflects the elegance, emotion, intensity and fire!

As reviewed by a recent performance in Melbourne, Australia, “This tango company is hot! It is precise, tight, well connected and supported by a band of exemplary musicians.

It has no smoke and mirrors, just incredible dancing, from playful milongas to smoother classic tango numbers.”

So, if you’re a fan of “So You Think You Can Dance?” on Fox network, or “Dancing with the Stars” on ABC, you now have your chance to see live and up close, the dance craze that has been sweeping our nation! Tango Fire will be “burning it up” in Boerne!

So, put a romantic evening on your 2018 resolution list…and get your tickets for a tantalizing evening of tango on January 23rd. Tickets ($20-$60) are available online at www.BoernePerformingArts.com; by phone at 830.331.9079; or in person at the Greater Boerne Chamber of Commerce (121 South Main Street in beautiful downtown Boerne).

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BOERNE

THEN

NOW

1954. It was owned s a fixture in Boerne in Bigs General Store wa to Johnny's Feed me ho Gerfers. Today it is ce Ali by ted era op d an e Pet Grooming. st Pet Shop and Boern and Supply, the Red Cre

Boerne Camper’s Association event at the Cibolo Creek dam in 1890.

today. The , pictured in 1918 and The Robert E. Lee house n Antonio and Sa he traveled between house hosted Lee when Fort Mason.

St. Peter's Church was built in 1923. It was org inally built to house 200. By 1980 the congregation had gro wn to over 700 and plans for expansio n began. Discussions ensued over whether to raze the str ucture or save a portio n of it.

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BLACKOUT

By Marjorie Hagy

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Seventy-six years ago exactly, on the day I sit writing this, a man parked his pickup on the side of an unpaved road in the utter darkness of a new moon, no light visible anywhere in the world, and contemplated the appalling, impenetrable mystery of the fate of the world.

Some two weeks before, his country had been divided- watching the war unfold in Europe, there were those who felt the United States should be in it, to support her allies and to hold the line on Hitler’s Germany, and still others, outspoken in their determination that America should not be drawn into another war over there. But in ninety minutes on a Sunday morning not quite two weeks before, an attack literally out of the clear blue sky had unified the country. Quoth the Boerne Star in the aftermath of the assault that would change the world, that had instantly changed the world: “Though the nation was startled it was suddenly united. From former ‘isolationist’ leaders and newspapers came pledges of support to the government in dealing with an unprovoked attack upon the United States.” Now the isolationists and the interventionists were agreed in their fury and their determination to win this war they hadn’t asked for.

The man climbed out of his truck to look around him. In every direction, everywhere his eyes could pick out any feature of the landscape, the world was altogether without light. No twinkle in the window of a far-off farmhouse betrayed its existence, not a sudden beam of the headlights of a car as it flashed around a bend in the hills. This perfect darkness was no strange thing to the man, who’d spent his whole life out here on the place, most of it before they’d had electricity laid on, so the absolute blackness was familiar to him. And this particular night in the middle of December wasn’t, strictly speaking, totally dark in the way that the man knew it could get in the country under a cloudy, moonless sky. This was a night as clear as the one on which Jesus was born, or so the man imagined: in his mind he’d always seen Mary and Joseph with their baby in a crèche that looked just like the one in the middle of his Oma’s Weihnachten table, with the angels gathered above the little family in a sky so clear and starry you could hear the rustle of their wings. And tonight, this sky was so clear that you could see every star in the expanse of heaven, the smear of other firmaments; the crunch of the man’s foot on the caleche road carried in the still, clear, dark, dark night like the sound of an armor-piercing bomb hitting the deck of a battleship.

He thought about the last war, which had been, supposedly, the war to end all wars, and he gave a mirthless kind of laugh at the irony of it and the irony of everything, really. The man had believed it, too, about that being the last warbelieved that the sheer, horrific destruction, the brutal waste of that first world war, would give pause to the nations and the people all over the world who’d been caught up in it, that there would be a ghastly taking of stock in the aftermath and then they would realize that this was not the way, that this could not be allowed to happen again, that this, this horror- this wasn’t the way to solve political disputes, or anything. Whole generations of young men around the world- in the German, Russian, Ottoman, and Austro-Hungarian empires, in England, in France, in Belgium- had been wiped out in the bloody, brutal killing fields; many

millions of young women had no husbands and all those children who would never be born; all those lives that had been left to wither away in the shivering, sweltering, rotting hell of the trenches- no! Never again! President Woodrow Wilson argued that the first world war would make the world safe for democracythat with the defeat of German militarism the world would see that militarism had no place anymore, and that in drawing up a new world map after the war, they could eliminate the need for war; they’d created the League of Nations and now the whole world could work together to prevent war! It was a lovely vision.

And yet here he stood on a road five miles from Boerne, practicing blackout procedure, making sure that no stray light from a car or a house could be used to point the way to an enemy bomber.

There were some twelve-hundred souls living in Boerne that December, 1941, and another thirty-eight hundred in Kendall County, from Comfort to Welfare, Kendalia to Kreutzberg, from Walnut Grove to Wasp Creek and Boerne to Bergheim. There were still cedar choppers living along the Guadalupe near Ammann’s Crossing, the remnants of families who’d been displaced after the Civil War- the town of Schiller was still a going concern, with a school and a church and an official dot on the map. The Boerne High School senior class, which would graduate, God willing, the following May, had fourteen members. Many of the boys would enlist the day after graduation.

The war which began on a Sunday morning a week and a half prior to the night on which the man stood under the starry sky scanning the dark world for any telltale flicker of light- that war, a scant generation after the war that was supposed to render warfare pointless, would change the universe for the man, for the little town five miles away, for every soul, in fact, alive at that moment all over the world, and down to generations yet unborn. The good guys would win, of course. The Germans, who’d flaunted their disdain for the Treaty of Versailles and dared the rest of the world to do something about it, who’d begun their planned takeover of the world by marching into Poland on the first of September, 1939, and who would go on to create an unfathomably horrific scheme to eliminate an entire race of people, would in the end be beaten into a cringing surrender.

And the Japanese, who delivered that deadly, underhanded attack one morning in December, would be brought to its knees by the double blow from a weapon of such ghastly power that it resembled nothing so much as the fevered nightmare of a madman. There is no mystery anymore, no spoiler alert necessary, no tensing up and gripping of the edge of your chair as you listen to the story, hoping that good will prevail.

Good did prevail. We won. The outcome of the Second World War has long been a matter of history.

But on the night of that first blackout drill in Boerne, everything still hung in the balance.

The man charged with parking his truck on

this spot and keeping watch by night could no more see ahead to the end of this war than the natives of this land could look into the eyes of the Europeans they welcomed and foretell their own doom. What the man thought, what secret presentiments of the future might have torn at his gut, what white-hot anger might burn in his core, what soul-deep terrors may have dogged him, we can never know. Maybe he didn’t even know, maybe he was just uneasy, maybe he was all bluster, all tough-guy the hell with ‘em, they messed with the wrong sons a bitches, but somewhere in there was fear for the unknowable future, at the dark black curtain that had fallen not only over his hometown that brittle-clear December night, but between everything that he knew and whatever was to come of it all.

I was born nineteen years and a handful of days after the A-bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, an event about which US President Harry Truman had warned Japan to "expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth.” I was the last of the Baby Boomers, that generation born after World War II in the flush of prosperity and hopefulness that broke out after the war. Whether the US and her allies would win the war, would the German Luftwaffe bomb San Antonio like it had barraged London the previous year in the Battle of Britain when the debt was run up to so few from so manywould Japan launch a submarine attack on the Gulf Coast, would the ammunition depot at Camp Stanley draw enemy fire, would we all end up speaking German?- those have never been questions that I’ve had to ask, that I’ve had to fear, because by the time I was born the war was over and who had won and who’d lost were facts already recorded in the world’s textbooks.

By then there were already a thousand books written about every aspect of WWII, and my dad had surely read at least half of them before the sweltering September evening in 1964 that my soon-to-be-mom had to be coaxed, threatened, and begged into the car for the trip to the hospital because she was determined to finish her episode of Ozzie & Harriet before she went off to bear her first child. That first evening after my birth, before I was twenty-four hours old, The Munsters premiered on television for the first time. The Merry Pranksters were turning on, tuning in and dropping acid in California, the Beatles were invading America and LBJ was getting us into a whole ‘nother mess in southeast Asia- and no one was worrying about whether the Allies would win because we already had won and all that was over a long time ago. By the time I became aware of the world in which I lived there was a cold war to worry about, the Cuban missile crisis had scared the memory of WWII off the front pages of our collective minds and there was a wall in Berlin, separating a whole new Us from Them. Walter Kronkite talked every night in our living room about gorilla warfare in the jungle. A couple of photographs: the South Vietnam police chief in the split second before he blew a man’s brains out and one of a little girl running naked down a road in the landscape of a nightmare, all those bereft, wailing children running through hell, through literal fire and brimstone, those images had already seeped into

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my marrow, into the very innermost core of me, and had already begun their work shaping the adult that I would become. Ragged men with joyless eyes in wheelchairs and army surplus jackets, missing limbs, looking gobsmacked, lost, confused, at sea, began to be everywhere, and I knew that the gorillas attacking in the jungle had everything to do with this, but I didn’t know what, I didn’t know if it could reach out and touch me, my family. World War II was done and over, a thousand years ago, and all the misery in the world now dwelt in the jungles of southeast Asia and in the victims of the gorillas who brought it home with them.

It was all history to me, as done and finished as Noah and his ark. Nobody wondered if the earth would ever be dry again and whether the boat would ever land- we knew how the story ended. And World War II- that may as well be a Bible story too. We knew how that ended too.

And so, occasionally, it comes to me with a sense of surprise that for an interminably long time, people actually lived in fear and in a constant state of panic and unease, not knowing whether their world would hold or whether they might be dead tomorrow- that the conclusion of WWII wasn’t always a done deal. It was not always, it wasn’t ever, a foregone conclusion that the US and her allies would win- the people who lived through that war didn’t know, couldn’t know, that the good guys would win and that all would be restored and the nations of the world would survive. It seems like stating the obvious, now, and of course it is- while the war was ongoing, nobody knew who would win yet. But I think that what I forget is what it must have felt like to live with all the doubt and fear and terror and pain, with the everyday immediacy of life in a country at war. What must it have felt like for a man standing on a road five miles outside of his hometown in a blackout drill, planning and preparing for a contingency so preposterous, so wildly outside of everything he’d ever known, at the very beginning of a war that would come to involve almost every living soul on the planet?

This was the first test of the blackout procedure, a statewide mandate, and remember, this was a mere eleven days after the attack on the US Navy at Pearl Harbor, exactly a week after Germany and Italy, in honor of the terms of the Axis Treaty, declared war on the United States. The people of Boerne, including the man stationed outside of town, never thought their hometown itself was in any danger of attack; in

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fact, Major DK Lansing of the Home Defense Guard said as much in a letter published in that same issue of the Boerne Star: writing of a theoretical enemy pilot, Lansing states: “He is not going to unload his bombs over any isolated farm group, he is not going to bomb the small hamlets or cities, unless he should mistake them for his target, or unless he drops a few just as a reminder to the citizens that he is overhead. BUT,” he goes on, “your lights, if he can spot them will act as directing fingers toward his objective.” What they all had in mind, ultimately, were “the Army Posts, the Ammunition Depots, [and] the Flying Fields around San Antonio,” which were, according to Major Lansing’s open letter, “definite and important objectives, long ago marked for destruction by those with whom we are at War.” In 1941, all the San Antonio army and air bases were already well-established, including Fort Sam, Kelly, Randolph, Brooks and even Lackland, on which construction had begun some six months before, and Camps Bullis and Stanley closer to Boerne, and were important military posts. From the moment each one of them heard the news of the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, every person who had attained the age of reason in San Antonio and in towns fifty miles away in every direction, must have been agonizingly aware of the military importance of San Antonio. Our man stationed on the road outside of Boerne would’ve been keenly aware as well. He thought of the description in the paper, of the lights carelessly left burning in farmhouses and cars on the road being fingers pointing the way to all those military posts, and his mind dwelt again on the comforting assurance implicit in that part about the bomber pilot not wasting his cargo on tiny hamlets like Boerne. But another thought crept up on him uninvited, right behind the first, and reminded him that Pearl Harbor had been torn apart in the clear, broad daylight, almost insolently- and no blackout could have prevented it. And the man thoughtagain, achingly- of his own fifteen year-old son, of a perfectly ordinary day that past autumn when the man had been startled at the sudden recognition of how grown-up his boy had become. The size of his hands on the steering wheel of the tractor. He thought of recruitment offices with lines ten and twelve blocks long, forced to stay open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, to accommodate the crush of enlistees. He thought of all the town boys and the farmboys, too, and all their big hands, all of them mad as hell, willing to pad their age, to

swear to whatever necessary in order to get into this war and pay the bastards back. And then the man quickly turned off the damn thought, quick, like a jerk to the short chain attached to the light bulb in the front room, because it hurt him, it actually caused his shoulders to snap forward as if to protect his chest from a physical blow.

He bent down into the open door of his pickup and dove under the steering wheel, close to the gas and brake pedals on the floor, and carefully struck a match to light a smoke. He knew the rules backwards and forwards- all any of them had been doing since the afternoon of December 7th was learning rules, planning strategies, showing up to meetings, and when they weren’t doing that they were talking about it, bullshitting about what was gonna happen next, what the enemies were gonna do, how the Americans were gonna win, how they were gonna slap those dirty bastards all the way back to the Stone Age by God. The man knew no matches were to be struck in the open, no cigars, cigarettes or pipes out of doors, so as he straightened back out to his full height he kept his other hand cupped round the glow of the ember, exhaled the smoke out his nostrils. Took another drag, held it a little longer, blew the smoke out on a long sigh.

His place was out here, half a mile away as the crow flies- that’s why he’d volunteered for this particular post. If it was daytime right now his house would be visible from this part of the road, just below on a piece of high ground before the land swept down to the creek. If the world wasn’t pitch dark you could place it by the light in the front room, throwing its spotlight across the front yard. Kendall County was also due to check the searchlights, too, same as the blackout drill, to be ready in case they needed to identify any unknown aircraft at night. That contingency was bizarre to the man- imagine in Boerne, Texas, using a searchlight beam, suddenly ablaze in the night sky, to light up a flock of German Messerschmitts on their way to San Antonio. The thought of it instantly turned the man’s belly to liquid, and then to ice, and then his brain offered up Major Lansing’s statement as a measure of comfort: “he is not going to bomb the small hamlets or cities”. But the man’s brain giveth and then tooketh away, because there was a codicil, and it’d bothered the man from the first reading in spite of his efforts to ignore it: “...unless he drops a few just as a reminder to the citizens that he is overhead…” It reminded the man of

something, someone, though he couldn’t put his finger on a name- but he KNEW this guy they were talking about. He KNEW this guy, who would complete whatever mission they gave him to the letter, but who would also find a sort of sublime satisfaction in letting go a couple of bombs on an unsuspecting village, an outlying farmhouse or a barn, even...now who was it?

He’d enjoy it, this fella he was thinking of, he’d like the feel of letting go that lethal cargo and seeing the pattern of destruction below- but what reminded the man so much of this other fella he was thinking of was the image of him up there in the cockpit savoring his ability, if he so chose, his power. This guy wouldn’t be a murderer in the ordinary course of his life, but a chance opportunity to play God from 25,000 feet, was different. The man, on the side of the road leaning on his truck, he could picture the eyes of that enemy pilot who didn’t actually exist, he could sit in this other guy’s body at the control panels of his plane and could see the world laid out below, even though the man had never been in a plane in his life. But he could see what a man like that would see, he could feel the pull of temptation, to pass like a cloud overhead but leave one massive, random work of devastation in your wake, for no other reason than that you can. The man from Boerne saw as clearly as if it were noonday, the picture of his own farmhouse half a mile away, his wife turning from the stove to smile up at him when he came in the back door, his daughters sitting at the table with braids in their hair, his boy who’d grown so suddenly man-like. He saw his own mother stirring a pot on the same stove when he himself was a little boy, and he felt his love and reverence and the familiarity for his house and his family as something knitted in with his bones and muscles in the process of his creation. This town with all of her twelve hundred people, the stores where his family traded, the creek below his house, an enemy plane disappearing toward the horizon, the

shadowy spectre of a man with the power of life and death who’d come to MY country and attacked MY people- His hands clenched and a choking hatred rose in him, a sort of primal state of defensiveness and love and fury.

House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) and Senator Joseph McCarthy instituted a witch hunt in which the civil rights of any American they accused were trampled underfoot.

This was war, and it would get worse, in 1942 and ‘43 the news would be bad, very bad, and the whole, evil plan for the wholesale annihilation of a race of people would enter it's era of greatest efficiency. The people of Boerne would make the transition from sleepy village to efficient wartime community with very little difficulty, and the Red Cross, the Lion’s Club, the City government, would all make sure the citizens were doing their part. The iron fence around the old courthouse disappeared into the war effort; new emergency quarters were built next to the swimming pool, which would later become the Grange library, which would eventually move next door to the City Hall on Blanco Street and then on to the Dienger building and finally to a brand-new home on the site of the old St Mary’s Sanitorium.

Woodrow Whitworth, US Navy, would become the first Boerne casualty of the war, captured by the Japanese in May 1942 and only released after the end of the war in September 1945. He was held in a POW camp near Nagasaki, from where he heard and saw the atomic bomb that ended the war. Boerne would never be the target of an air raid, although ten young men from Kendall County lost their lives in the war; they were Calvin Behr, Otto Eichholz, Pascual Guerrero, Clarence Korth, Isaac Menchaca, Richard Neff, Louis Strube, Candelario Trevino, Ralph Weaver, and Hillmar Zoeller. The good guys prevailed; we won. The Great Depression was over, America came home from war and started having babies, we entered a brand-new war, the Cold War, and forgot all about those vaunted freedoms we talked about so much during World War II, which had hung in the balance, when Communist hysteria broke out and the

There was no war to end all wars- there may be no such thing. Man has been waging war since time began, and as long as we continue to support leaders who see no moral quandary in throwing the lives of poor men and women at the enemy like a handful of gravel while they and their own children sit safely at home, the best and brightest of each successive generation of Americans will be sacrificed at the altars of greed and hatred. I find that I’m able to imagine a world without war. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one; and my God, I do hope, I pray that someday you will join us.

That whole night, under the new moon, the man didn’t see one light except for the glow of his cigarette and the reflected shine from the billions of stars overhead. At one point he folded himself back up and wedged himself under the steering wheel again so he could strike a match and get a look at his watch, when he discovered it was time to get on home. His truck starting on that brittly cold night sounded like the din of a thousand bombs in the silence, but the man knew that was a wild exaggeration, and that the sound of war, if and when it came to Boerne, Texas, would be very, very different.

He switched on his headlights and they made a cone of brightness in the blackness of the night. “The light shines in the darkness,” he thought, “and the darkness has not overcome it.” What was that from? he wondered. He sat for a moment, his truck rumbling, and stared without conscious thought into the beam of light, and after a little bit he put the truck in gear and headed off down the road. There was still a lotta work to be done.

WWW.HILLCOUNTRYEXPLORE.COM | JANUARY 2017

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TALKING TO GOD

By Kendall D. Aaron

O

One of the things that the kids and I talk about each evening as I put them to bed (they’re 12 and 6) is about “talking to God.”

This entire concept fascinates my 6 year old as the idea of God Himself talking to you sounds pretty dang amazing to him. I explain to him that I talk to God all the time, and his eyes are as big as saucers. He asks me about what God says, what He sounds like, and what it feels like to have God speak to you. I smile lovingly and just say “You’ll know it when He talks to you. I promise.”

I have smiled after these little discussions as they are sincere from my son, and awe-inspiring. I mean, don’t you know his little mind is exclaiming “My DAD talks to GOD?!!

Are you kidding me?!” And the truth is that I DO talk to God frequently. Sometimes.

Well, I used to. Um, I try?

Sigh.

One of the greatest frustrations in the Christian walk is when you speak with others about what they SHOULD be doing, or ways that they could improve their lot, while you are not doing the same. It’s so humbling and embarrassing. So as I sit on the corner of the bed and talk to my son about talking with God, knowing full well that I’m not doing what I can to also to talk to God…well, it’s convicting.

So as I lie in my own bed and think about these conversations, I’m left with a few questions. One is “Why am I NOT talking to God?” I can’t hear from God if I’m not talking to Him, so why should I be surprised? In my own personal experiences, I think that sometimes we stop talking to God when things are going great. Sounds counterintuitive, but when life is stress free and easy-peasy, it’s really really easy to forget to give thanks to God. You might not believe that, but I’ve seen it happen in my own life. I mean, my successes and my triumphs and my satisfaction ceases to be about God’s blessings and they become things that are due to ME. Sick, I know. But sure enough, they can drive a wedge in between your talks with God, and it’s most unfortunate.

One of the other reasons that I believe that we stop talking to God is when we give up. Life is cruising along, you hit a hiccup, and you pray. That hiccup becomes a major detour, and you pray a bit harder. You find yourself with new and worsening problems

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that become more and more overwhelming, and I think our sinful nature convinces us that God just isn’t listening anyway. Or that our prayers simply don’t matter in the grand scheme of things, so we just stop talking. We stop praying. We cease seeking the solace in God during our trying times, because, well, it’s not working anyway, right?

I want to talk to God. I really do. I’ve experienced God’s word in my own life, and have seen His very hand influence my life. I have sat back and marveled at His direction and decisions that He has placed upon me, and have been brought to tears over it. I’ve also, unfortunately, seen my heart harden and my mind be distracted by this world and I turn around to realize that I have not taken the time to be in His presence in a very, very long time and that it has taken a toll on my life, my psyche, and my heart.

And then I talk to my 6 year old about talking to God as he marvels at how marvelous that must be.

And it really is. To quiet your mind and heart and to come into the presence of the Lord Almighty is a knee-shaking experience, but it takes work and dedication to get there.

Despite what my 6 year old thinks, I can’t just sit down and dial up God and talk about the day’s happenings. It doesn’t work that way. However, I can find Him if I seek Him, and perhaps the biggest lesson in this discussion. God doesn’t just flop down on the couch beside you to say “Hey, seriously. Where ya been?” He waits for you to create a space for Him to speak into your life, and if you do that, He WILL spill out His love and knowledge upon you.

Second Chronicles 7:14 says, “If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” God will hear us when we repent, when we confess our sins, and when we humble ourselves.

And not one second before.

I have some praying to do.

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WWW.HILLCOUNTRYEXPLORE.COM | JANUARY 2017

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by Michael Giddens

It is hard to believe it has been 4 years since my last predictions. As I sat down I realized the one thing missing was the Golgg. Gloog is a power mulled sweedish liquor concocted by Carola (CAT) Turner, who passed away earlier this year. So the big question remains will the predictions even be close to previous years.

Not to worry a local friend in Boerne had the solution. He brought over a 190 proof apple pie mason liquid that taste like cool-aide. So I am pouring my first glass and as the track announcer says at Evangeline Downs‌..Il Son Parti

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JANUARY ….HAPPY NEW YEAR

FEBRUARY

MARCH

Oklahoma plays Alabama in the National Championship.

There are only two things in Oklahoma..steers and oh, you can’t say that anymore….OU 27 Bama 20.. Saban fakes a 24 yard game winning field goal that is intercepted for a touchdown.

Spurs acquire Anthony Davis from the Pelicans for a first and second round draft pick Mission Pharmacal gives every employee $5,000 bonus due to Tax Cut…Geaux Trump

Boerne Resident makes offer for the Carolina Panthers which turns into a bidding war against P. Diddy Widdy Combs. Panther sell for $325 Million and new Boerne Owner plans move to San Antonio. New stadium slated for IH 10/1604 corridor says Judge Wolff.

Saints beat Patriots in Super Bowl…Colin Kapernick sings the National Anthem. Alivn Kamera MVP. Champion Chargers Football Team gets 20 new players under 5’ 10.

Boerne Animal Shelter puppy wins Puppy Bowl…. Shelter given $200,000 for new facility.

Several upsets in local politcal races Cahoon beats Palmer Tipton beats Hudson Final Four San Antonio Duke, South Dakota State, Minnesota and Kansas…Jack Rabbits upset Duke in Finals.. Blue Devil Mascot arrested swimming in the River Walk….Mark Cuban and Charles Barkley banned from San Antonio

APRIL

MAY

JUNE

Tiger Woods wins Masters…John Daley misses 12 inch put on 18 to tie…Daley throws his putter 120 feet into the crowd… Guess who catches it? I trade Daley a Mason Jar of the Moonshine for the rest of his clubs.

Daley arrested for DWI, Moonshine operation in Georgia busted.

Wolff vs. Giddens Family Softball matched televised by ESPN 4..Gary Wolff hits inside the park walk off Home Run…. Pete F. taken to the emergency room for wasp stings because Garrison G. threw helmet in the dugout and hit the wasp nest.

Georgia Moonshine Operation flees and opens Daiquiri Shop Drive through in NOBO. .. Chief of Police contest open container law to halt operations….Attorneys claims paper still on straw and wins case…

Local Champion High Golfer Harrison H. qualifies for the US Open….I am named as Caddy..

Local business man Bill Elliot wins the Kentucky Derby with filly Bobbed Tail. Tail beats the Boys by 6 lengths. Al Franken photo bombed winning owner picture and says his hand on the horse was just a joke. Female Jockey right cross lands Franken in the Mental Hospital.

Roger Goodell steps down as NFL Commish, Ron Bowman retires as City Manager and accepts position.

FAA closes Boerne Airport for too many privates planes trying to leave for the Preakness that Bobbed Tail wins by a nose…

Spurs win 6th Championship over Cleveland….Tony Parker MVP…Eva Longoria gets divorce and announces wedding plans with Parker.

Local Golfer leads US Open after first Round at under…

Caddy miscalculates yardage on 18 and hits CBS booth but ricochets off the tower and in the hole.

Twin Peaks breaks ground for new establishment in NOBO, two days later All Stars announces new men’s club in SOBO. Bobbed Tail loses Triple Crown.. Buccees buys filley for 10 million dollars…new ad campaign showing the Beaver and Bobbed Tail go up across the South.

JULY

AUGUST

SEPTEMBER

Cibolo Dinner Cruises opens on River Road. Company a huge success and file a petition to allow slot machines which City Council approves.

Rock and Bowl announces SoBo location. Local drummer from Aerosmith to own and operate. Charity concert planned to raise money to help finish I10 construction disaster.

Boerne residents hit with across the board car insurance increase due to the number of accidents up 430% in 2017.

City lowers all speed limits in town. New traffic Light planned for Ammann Road and Hwy 46

Boerne ISD Superintendant announces School will start after Labor Day and end Memorial Day weekend, 3rd glass of moonshine kicking in…cant sem to spel anything or spel check either Boerne local hits $275 million Powerball and donates all the money equally to local church’s.. Cornerstone Church buys 50 acres next to All Stars.

Champion Charges and Boerne High play Charity Scrimmage to raise money for Wounded Warriors. Trump helicopters into parking lot.

Mueller gives up on Collusion Investigation on Trump..

Mueller team caught smashing cell phones with hammers after a second server is found in Al Frankens mistress apartment in Minnesota…Super Bowl officials deny paying for hotel…Bowman opens investigation River Boat Cruise Boat sinks in Cibolo due to weight of slot machines Boerne Moonshiners open distillerty off Ammann Road

OCTOBER

NOVEMBER

DECEMBER

Key to the Hills Car Show breaks attendance record…

Temp hits 22 degrees and snow blankets Boerne.

Al Gore states Boerne could flood due to Climate Change from too many cars being started at one time..

Local resident catches 14 foot anaconda in Cibolo…put on display at Cibolo Nature Center

Local Architect reveals plans for light Rail System from Boerne to Austin, Boerne petitions state to name the Rail Moonshine Express.

Six Flags awarded contract to begin construction.

Acme Oyster Bar opens next to Ferrari Dealership in abandoned Building, Quarter Beer and Oysters on Tuesday Night… My neighbor Brian F. awarded Tuesday Night Bartender Job. Acme pays my wife $200,000 for Seafood Gumbo Recipe. Pappadeaux’s forced to close

Christmas Parade in Boerne announces VP Mike Pence as honorary Guest to ride in the first float…Trump announces he will step down and not run for a second term.

Hillary found guilty of Collusion with Russians. Putin travels to Boerne to try Moonshine.

Local Shops and Restaurant Owners have record Sales in 4th Quarter..

City states local population is now 23,000 Four lane Road planned to Tapatio that opens state of the art Clubhouse and Golf Facility. Jimmy Walker accepts job as Pro. Merry Christmas !

WWW.HILLCOUNTRYEXPLORE.COM | JANUARY 2017

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O

OLD TIMER

Old Timer, 17 Herff is looking like it’s going to happen. I’m confused. What changed? It got shot down, but now they’re back and it appears that it’s going to get approved. Huh? Haha, simpleton. Of COURSE it’s going to get approved. It was ALWAYS going to get approved, and I’m disappointed that you expected anything less. That developer retreated, rebranded the name, the logo, and the whole message… and then re-presented it to City Council. With the most nominal of changes, City Council fell all over themselves to approve it (it has one more reading before it’s final approval). The City wanted it the entire time, but you danged citizens threw such a stink about it, they had to vote against it the first time. Now that you’re all asleep and distracted with Christmas, that sucker will get rubber stamped so fast it’ll make your head spin. Ta-da!

Seriously? Don’t feed the ducks bread?

What the hell?

You must be talking about those stupid signs posted along the Cibolo about not feeding the ducks bread. Yes, it’s stupid. My favorite part is the statue of the two kids that the City erected of them feeding the ducks….bread. Whatever.

Don’t ever bring up ducks to me. I wish the City would declare open season on them and we could feed the homeless.

Old Timer – I’m just curious – did you do any hunting this year?

I chuckle when people call the modern iteration of sitting in a deer blind “hunting”. You set up a feeder, sit in a warm deer blind complete with Bluetooth, and then wait to blast Bambi.

Pfft. When you jump out of a tree with a knife between your teeth and kill your deer, we’ll call it hunting. Until then, we’ll call it target practice.

So to answer your question, no.

Old Timer, let’s hang out. Where might I go that I’d bump into you? I’d love to buy you a beer.

Yeah, I don’t think so. This stupid article has pissed off so many people that I’m pretty wary of anyone that says they want to “hang out”.

That said, if you DO run into me at the local watering hole, simply deliver 3 beers to me, shake my hand and walk away. No talking. It’ll be understood.

Tell me something GOOD that’s going on in town, you negative sonofabitch.

Salvador Dobbs. The new bar going in next to Little Gretel. A proper place to have a proper martini sounds about right for this German town. I’m looking forward to it. Feel better?

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