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| The smallest State Park in Texas |
I suspect that there comes a time in life – the
result of a gradual process, even though its perception may be sudden – when it
seems that the trains are not as frequent as they used to be, and that even
then, they often pass right through the station with stopping. So when one
stops, you have to ride it. Even if it’s going to Acton, TX.
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| Elizabeth Crockett |
You probably don’t know this – there’s no reason
why you should – but Acton is the site of the
smallest State Park in Texas.
Acton is a
small town with a good sense of humour, as you can see from the signs outside the gas
station cum convenience store, and the liquor store. For a small town, they
sure must drink a lot of liquor – but if I hadn’t stopped there, I never would
have found the park. It’s in the middle of (one of) the local cemeteries, and
is famous only because Elizabeth Crockett (Davy’s wife) is buried there.
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| The gas station |
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| The Bootlegger |
On my way out I noticed an old (in the American
timeframe) grave: “She’s gone to that
bright land of love where death and sickness never come, where all is bliss
with those above who dwell within that peaceful land”. Not an uncommon
inscription for the time (1891), but touching nevertheless.
Spring flowers are in full bloom finally, and
the day is warm but breezy. I’m driving with the windows open to catch the
fragrance of large patches of bluebonnets, and listening to Bob Dylan (“Modern
Times”) on the CD player – Workingman’s
Blues is particularly poignant.
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| Primroses |
Randomly following country roads, I stop at Cahill Methodist
Church. It’s closed up,
but I sit for a while in the cool shade of the cemetery – unusual in some
respects, because cemeteries round here (probably for historic reasons
associated with hygiene) are normally located well away from civilization.
While I’m sitting, the local Sheriff’s cruiser swings by, presumably to check
out the unrecognized car – I wave, but can’t see any acknowledgement through
the tinted glass.
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| Old gravestone |
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| Christian rock band |
By chance, I end up in Cleburne, where the Spring Festival is in
full swing. I park the car on the outskirts of town, and walk into the downtown
area. It’s obviously a very Christian festival, with many faith-based roadside
stalls, and a Christian rock band. I have to say (again) that, although it’s
not really my style, the church here feels so much more alive than at home – if rock music and cowboy church is what it
takes to get youth involved, a lesson could be learned.
Lunch was a BBQ sandwich – shredded smoked
brisket on a hamburger bun, with barbecue sauce, onions and jalapenos – eaten
at the communal table with plenty of kitchen roll for mopping sauce-soaked
fingers and mouth.
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| Downings gun shop |
In Texas,
they take guns very seriously. In view of the recent Virginia Tech Massacre,
it’s easy to take issue with the “gun culture”. Personally, I think the “knife
culture” in England
is just as insidious, and simply serves to demonstrate that we will use
whatever means are available to wreak havoc. As you’ll know, Kurt Vonnegut died
recently. He said, in an interview in 2005, “I
think that the Earth's immune system is trying to get rid of us, as well it
should.” I find it difficult to disagree.
