Ryoga

Texas cowboy Webster L. Fox drove 1200 cattle from Goliad, Texas, to Caldwell, Kansas back during the cattle drives of the late 1800s. When he got to Kansas, he had this photo taken and sent it to his parents. Note the inscription on the back. My guess is that Webster rode up the trail, got paid, went into town, got cleaned up, bought some brand new fancy duds, and had this photo taken. Some of the young cowboys would get paid and, after a lengthy, hard cattle drive, then blow half their wages in one night. You'd think they'd regret it, but in reading their accounts it's apparent that most did not. I think I would. I think I'd wake up the next morning, hungover, look for my money, realize that I'd spent half of it, and think "Lordy, what were you THINKING?" I love the fact that Webster tells us the exact reason for this photo and where he was in life, but I wish he'd have printed THE DATE! 😉 Can't have everything, I reckon. But isn't this a GREAT portrait?

This photo of a sailor with a woman was taken at the North Beach Amusement Park in Corpus in 1943. My first thought was that he is with his girlfriend but now I think it might be his sister or his mom. What do y'all think? In any case, it's cool to see that even during the war folks could go to a place like this for recreation and unwinding. They had a Ferris wheel and everything at this place.

I am once again taken aback by the great Basil Clemons's photographic skill. Check out this 1924 photo of the office of the Breckenridge Ice Co. in Breckenridge, Texas. Somehow Basil was able to take the most ordinary settings and turn them into art. I love the accoutrements, especially that old typewriter. I'm sure it was modern then, but all I can think about is how tired my hands/fingers would get hitting those keys, which were deep and slow moving. The cash register, the ledger book --- both perfect. Courtesy the great folks at @spcouta

Beautiful downtown Coleman, Texas, in 1882. I am somewhat surprised, given Coleman's geographic location about 45 miles south of Abilene, to see it so developed. It must have been on the western periphery in those days. Courtesy The Portal to Texas History

Blogger "Confessions of a Saddle Tramp" rode her horse across the Old Alton Bridge in Lantana, Texas a few days ago and graciously shared this photo. I was glad to see it not only because it's a great shot but because it's the perfect segue into telling y'all about this bridge. As I said, it's formally called the Old Alton Bridge, although most folks nowadays know it by a considerably more sinister name: Goatman's Bridge. And the story behind that name is Texacious. The bridge is a few miles south of Denton and was built at a time when Denton County was growing rapidly. Farmers were planting cotton and wheat, towns were springing up, and the county's muddy creeks were becoming serious obstacles to commerce. In 1882, county commissioners appropriated $10,000 to build eight bridges, even dipping into the county's Permanent School Fund to pay for them. Two years later, the Old Alton Bridge was completed, a handsome, 145-foot iron Pratt through-truss bridge manufactured from a kit supplied by the King Iron Bridge and Manufacturing Company of Cleveland, Ohio. This company must have been quite something at that time because I've seen their bridges all over Texas. The bridge took its name from nearby Alton, a little settlement that had served as the Denton County seat during the 1850s. By 1884, however, Alton was already fading away, and county officials hoped that putting an important road through the area might breathe some life into the place. I reckon that never happened, though. Alton continued its slow disappearance, but the bridge endured, carrying wagons, horses, and eventually automobiles along the main road between Denton and Dallas. It was so narrow that motorists developed the habit of honking their horns before crossing, lest they meet another automobile coming from the opposite direction. This brings me to the Goatman. According to local legend, an African American goat farmer named Oscar Washburn lived near the bridge in the 1930s. Washburn supposedly prospered selling goat meat, milk, and cheese, which attracted the attention of locals who didn't cotton to the idea of a black man prospering. One night in 1938, the story goes, they dragged him to the bridge and hanged him from its iron framework, dangling him over the river. But when the murderers descended to retrieve his body, it had vanished. The legend says that Washburn's ghost still haunts the crossing, sometimes appearing as a shadowy figure with the head of a goat. Visitors have reported strange noises, unexplained lights, and the unsettling sensation of being watched. Now, here's the rub: historians have found no credible evidence that Oscar Washburn ever existed, much less that he was lynched at the bridge. Searches of contemporary newspapers and historical records have failed to substantiate the story. It appears to be folklore, although precisely when the legend originated remains uncertain. That hasn't prevented generations of curious Texans from venturing into the woods after dark to see whether the Goatman might make an appearance. In 1988, the Old Alton Bridge was added to the National Register of Historic Places. A modern concrete bridge eventually took over its traffic, and in 2001 the old crossing was retired from vehicular service. Fortunately, local preservationists made sure it wasn't demolished. Today it carries hikers, horseback riders and, I guess, the occasional ghost hunter. I love these old Texas iron bridges. There's something evocative about their intricate latticework, their weathered timbers, and the way they seem to belong to a slower, more deliberate world. The Old Alton Bridge has outlived the town it was supposed to save, the horse-and-buggy era for which it was built, and close to 150 yeas of North Texas weather. The Goatman may or may not be out there among the trees, but the bridge itself is real enough, a lovely old survivor from a Texas that has mostly vanished. By the way, "Confessions of a Saddle Tramp" is a wonderful Blog to follow. Great writing and photos.

The Texas Quote of the Day: "The dirtier the truck, the closer to God." ---- something I heard at the Boathouse in Terlingua this past week