On the road to Port Aransas, Texas, last night Dorothy and I slept in New Braunfels, Texas.
We had left Oklahoma City around 7:30 in the morning, stopped in Fort Worth’s Stockyard to eat, and further along the way at an antique mall, arrived in New Braunfels around 6:00 last night. All the motels were full. The Holiday Inn suggested the I-35 Inn down the road. We got a room. I think they stuck it to us. At this dumpy place, we got a $50 room.
Morning, around 8:00, we went downtown New Braunfels. A circle formed the hub of the small, quaint city. German settlers founded New Braunfels in the 1800s. Architecture and names remind observers of its European heritage. The Hamel Museum stood as an outstanding feature. At 9:00, the archbishop said mass in front of the museum. While Dorothy and I drank coffee and ate toast at a table outside the coffee shop on the periphery, worshippers paraded around the circle. The altar boys led, then the Archbishop, followed by the Knights of Columbus dressed in ceremonial uniforms, a Mariachi band, and the congregation trailed. Dorothy took a few photographs.
Flea Markets and Red River Dave:
On the road again, and less than 30 miles from San Antonio, we stopped at a big flea market, Bussy’s, just before I-410 highway bypass to I-37 that runs through the Rio Grande Valley and ends at the Gulf of Mexico coast. We stayed at Bussy’s until 11:30 that morning. Dorothy bought a few valuable pieces of jewelry. I bought a tape-cassette case and a music cassette from, and recorded by, Red River Dave, an interesting old man well in his 80s. In his younger days, he had been a popular cowboy singer (old western ballads) and recording artist, acted in some movies. He knew Hank Snow, Wilf Carter, and others. Several famous country-and-western singers recorded his songs. He claimed to be the author/composer of the well-known song, Mexicali-Rose. With a clear voice, he sang a few verses. He reminded me of Gene Autry. He had a collection of guitars and favored an old Gibson. Red River Dave wore a cowboy hat, of course. His wavy black hair, with silver strands, looked greasy, and hung long in the back of his head to the collar. The old cowboy had a bandage on the bridge of his nose. I wondered if he had participated in a barroom brawl. Doubt it!