Boldt Castle (Alexandria Bay, NY) – June 2012

PRELUDE TO THE JOURNEY:

I’ve wanted to go back to the Thousand Island region since the previous year.  In addition to seeing areas that were connected to the cottage where so many summers were spent (places like Watertown, Cape Vincent, and Kingston), I wanted to go back to Boldt Castle again.  My family first went to Heart Island (where the castle is located) in the late 1970s when we visiting the Thousand Islands region (before the camp was a place of regular visitation).  This was not long after ownership of the Castle had been assumed by the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority, and they opened this vacant place to visitors.  I remember it was overcast and rainy, the pathways were muddy, the yards overgrown, and the castle itself (while structurally sound) had graffiti coating every inch of the interior.  At the time, it was really wasn’t that impressive, except for the fact it was an unfinished place that had been abandoned over seventy years before.

The second time I was here was circa 1996, when I took a bus trip up to Alexandria Bay, and a tour of the castle was part of the day trip.  I was surprised to see the amount of restoration which had happened.  While the interior of the main castle hadn’t changed much (still covered with graffiti), most of the other buildings on the island had been recovered from the near-ruin state I’d seen them in previously.  The grounds were mowed, and there was gravel on the pathways.  This was well on its way to becoming a preserved historical landmark.

Since I was in the process of writing a novel during that period, it seemed like the perfect place to set the climax.  Because my book was set in the modern day, I’d have my main character take his enforced hermitage in the “play house” (the tower structure at the water’s edge) in order to deal with the demons that haunted him (both in the mental and literal sense).  I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to end the story before that point, but after I saw the design of the “play house,” the final part jelled in my mind, and was able to conclude the tale.  Other information I’d found on that trip (specifically a cave called “Devil’s Oven” on an island about a mile or so away) was woven into the story.  At that point, it just needed a good spit-and-polish revision, and I could start in earnest of shopping it around for someone to publish it.

That part didn’t go too far, and the novel was shelved while I spent time on other works.  But since 2011 when I joined the CenTex Writer’s Group, I’d dragged the book out and had been submitted the chapters for critique.  That spurred me to start to do a major revision on it.  I’d told Mum at one point that I wanted to reacquaint myself with Boldt Castle, so I could add updated elements to the story.  I considered it would be a “research trip” as much as it was a holiday.  During the course of the revision, it became apparent there was no logical way to keep the climax of the story in the Thousand Islands region.  I still wanted to visit the area, though.  There was no way I’d be able to do an extensive visit to the other camp-related areas on this trip.  Visiting Boldt Castle would be enough this time around.

This is how you can tell I’ve lived in Texas for a bit.  Down there, were you have large tracts of land with open highway, you don’t think anything about driving three hours to get to some place on a day trip.  That’s because you have so many areas where there’s nothing.  Up in the Northeast, no matter what direction you go, you’re going to encounter something interesting within a half-hour.

Of course, in the same manner, I like highway driving because it gets me places faster.  I would’ve preferred us to cruise from Argyle to Fonda, pick up the New York State Thruway, exit near Syracuse, and then haul arse up Interstate 81 to Watertown.  I’ve done that trip in two-and-a-half hours.  But since I was a passenger, we took a more scenic route which took longer.  But we made it to our destination, and the familiarity of the area began to return as we reached the Thousand Islands region.

BOLDT CASTLE:  Monday, 18 June 2012

We found the parking space down at the docks of Alexandria Bay, and got tickets for the boat ride which would take across to Heart Island, where the castle was located.  The body of water we’d be crossing was the “American Channel” of the St. Lawrence River, by the way.  It didn’t bother me one bit that once we got to the island there would be an admission fee to the castle itself.  But as that money goes towards the restoration, that’s justified as far as I’m concerned.  Looking across the water while waiting for the boat make the ten minute journey, I looked across to see the castle sitting in the middle of the island, with the “play house” to the left, and the “power house” to the far right.

The boat ride brought us close to the island, and then arced around the right-hand (east) side past the “power house,” and brought us to the docks on the far side of the island; as that was the “rear” of the house, it made the most sense to place the tourist entrance there.  On a nearby island, about five minutes away, was the “boat house,” which could be visited for an additional cost.  I wanted to spend as much time with the castle as much as possible today.

Disembarking, we’re given a map of the island that told us what buildings were what, and gave some information about the history of the area.  A hotel owner from New York City visited the region in the early 1890’s, and was so impressed by it that he decided to build a “summer home” here.  George Boldt’s dream was to build a full-sized “Rhineland Castle” for his wife as a “gift of love,” and construction got underway in 1900.  Three-hundred workers were assembled to construct a six-story, 120-room castle.  But in 1904, when Mrs. Boldt died suddenly, Mr. Boldt told the workers to stop building and leave.  To him, there was no longer any reason to complete the magnificent structure.  So the partially-finished castle was abandoned, and George Boldt never returned.  The property remained in his family until the late 1970s.

One of the first things I noticed was the walkways were now paved with stones, as opposed to the gravel it was the last time I was here.  The lawns were nicely manicured, and the trees were neatly trimmed.  I decided I wanted to walk around the edge of the island first, before going into the castle proper.  I had joked with co-workers by saying I was going to “sack a castle” while on holiday, and had in mind to take a series of pictures detailing my “assault” (which I did post a dozen up on my CrackBook page).

We went past Swan Pond, where the Arch was located.  The pond was dug out from the existing island to make it heart-shaped, and the Arch originally meant to be the “main entrance” to the island.  The original plans called for some docks around the pond, as the boats which would be docking there would’ve been small private craft (nothing like what’d brought us over here).  The Arch faces Alexandria Bay, by the way.

Nearby was the “play house,” also known as Alster Tower.  This is based on the defense towers back in Hamburg, Germany (where the Boldt family originally came from), although considering the irregular-look of the structure, the builders probably just figured out the design as they went along.  While meant to be a location for the children to play, this has normal-sized ceilings.  This was completed and occupied by the Boldt family during the construction of the main castle.  Alster Tower has five floors (with the ground floor being the largest), and you could go all the way up to the battlements on the roof.  A covered porch (facing the water), and an open-air deck above it, gave a lot of additional living space.

In the aborted novel I wrote, I chose this as the location for the climax because it made the most sense to have a single person live a hermit lifestyle here.  I wouldn’t mind actually living in something like this because of the compact size, and eccentric style that gives it a lot of character.  The exterior of the tower was having some work done on it, so I couldn’t go inside this trip.

We followed the path away from Alster Tower which lead us around the “front” of the island (the side which faces Alexandria Bay).  Past a small stone gazebo, and the far wing of the main castle (where the “underground passage” is), which lead us down to the Power House.  Wandering down the stone brick way, it gave me an idea of what the island would’ve been like had it been completed as intended.

George Boldt’s intention was to provide electricity to the island, and it was to come from this building.  Gasoline and diesel engines would power generators for this purpose, as it would’ve been easier than running lines under the water.  The fuel would’ve still had brought over, but the tanks were large enough that refills wouldn’t need to be done too frequently.  The Power House is its own structure separate from the island, and the arched bridge provided access.  Most of the interior has been converted to museum space to show not only the generator, but some pictures and artifacts of the time period when the castle was being built.  One of the shots I liked the best was a picture from 1903 showing the castle under construction (ironically, a year before everything ceased).

From there, we could’ve followed the stone path around the backside of the castle (past where the visitor’s docks current is), but we decided to duck inside the Underground Passage.  Ignore any “dungeon crawl” references please.  This had a practical use.  In addition to housing the electrical wiring and water pipes coming from the Power House to the main castle, this also served as place for the servants to transport goods into the storage rooms in the foundation (allowing them to avoid hauling shit across the main floor).  In this time period, servants were supposed to move about silently or unnoticed to their masters.

Obviously, this was a section which hadn’t been restored yet, so there was a lot of the graffiti still present.  We exited the passage right before the main foundation, near the front of the castle.  We wandered to the side, where the Grand Entrance Staircase into the structure was.  Keep in mind, on this trip, we hadn’t even gotten inside the actual castle yet.  I lead our expedition this way with that in mind, as I wanted to save the most ornate items for last.

The castle has six stories, including the foundation (where the working swimming pool, and currently-being refurbished bowling alley was).  There are 127 rooms, including what would’ve been servants’ quarters (and portions of that are not yet open to the public).  The roofs had steel and concrete, and the walls are granite.  I knew from reading the brochure that most of the ground floor (as well as second and third) had been completed, so I looked forward to this.  Entering the main hall, we were greeted by the sight of the grand staircase to the second floor.  It looked nothing like this on my previous visits, and I found this breath-taking.

At the foot of the staircase there was a fireplace which had the Boldt family seal inlaid in front of it.  The food of the staircase was polished, which was close to what the original plans intended.  Looking up there was an ornate skylight.  Also on the first floor had a dinning hall with a large table, full library, and a billiards room.  You knew the Boldt’s were planning to have fun here, and this was to be more of a “summer home” for them.  The fireplace in the library is directly behind the one at the foot of the staircase.

Venturing up to the second floor, we saw where the bedrooms were for the individual members of the Boldt family.  Now as the castle was never actually finished, these rooms were never furnished.  During the restoration, the rooms were modeled with items which would’ve been common to the era of the early 20^th Century.  George Boldt had one of the smaller bedrooms, but had the corner with the circular-portion.  Louise Boldt’s bedroom was next door, and the children’s room (and indoor-plumbing bathroom) next to that.  On the other side of the second floor were the intended guest rooms, each roughly the same size of George Boldt’s room.

But as we got on the other side of the second floor, we could see how far the restoration process had gone.  Sections still had crumbling plaster on the walls, which had that particular smell.  This was why there were donation boxes near the grand staircase, and the castle had an admission fee.  The money was slowly making rooms like this one look like the previous shot you just saw.

The layout of the third floor was similar to the second, except access was a stairwell a short distance from the main grand staircase.  The third floor was intended to be servants’ quarters, and various work rooms for George Boldt’s hobbies (like a photography studio and dark room).

The fourth floor looked more like I’d remembered it, exposed brickwork and crumbling plaster walls, with bare wood floors.  On the previous visits, I remembered the extent of the graffiti on the walls, as the castle was in a state of disrepair.  These upper sections hadn’t changed much.

What we’re looking here is two forms of history.  The castle restoration project is the most obvious, but the graffiti is just as much history.  One can argue the defacing of the castle is pretty interesting, although less-important.  I would rather have a fully-restored castle, but the marks left by seventy years worth of visitors should be remembered in some manner.  Many of the pictures I took on the fourth floor chronicled this, as it would be gone sooner or later.

Most of the marks are simply names and dates, innocently made by those who visited a deteriorating novelty on Heart Island.  Many were faded with age, or not written very dark.  Some of the more notable (and legible) ones were four names from Buffalo, NY (July 1936), “Elmer Caniato from Utica, NY” (dated September 1942), and a couple names from August 1929, among others.

Above the fourth floor would be an additional level, where most of the roof structures were, so not really a living space.  That section has been restored enough to make sure the building is structurally sound, and to maintain the skylights, but otherwise closed off to the public.  Given time, that will look as ornate as the lower floors.

We worked our way back down to the first floor, and located the entrance to the foundation (basement) level.  Behind the grand staircase was another set of stairs to bring us down to the level where the swimming pool, boiler room, and other areas were.  There was an extension of the fireplace there too, which had an earlier version of the Boldt family crest inlaid in the stonework on the floor (mimicking the more-ornate design located directly above on the first floor, at the foot of the grand staircase).

Exiting the castle, we wandered around the grounds a little bit more to get a feel of the castle.  Also, I needed to have my particular photo opportunity done.  I brought my copy of Where When How (the Turks & Caicos magazine, which encouraged readers to take shots of themselves with the magazine in an identifiable “far away” place).  Knowing I’d be visiting a castle that day, I also made sure to where an appropriate “siege” shirt.  Yeah, I can be that anal, or twisted (you be the judge).

We took the ferry back to Alexandria Bay where we had a good lunch before heading back to Argyle.  While the current revision of the novel wasn’t even going to use Boldt Castle at all in there (and work on the revision has stalled for the time being, mainly because it’s more fun to write these journals), it was still a great time to reacquaint myself with this place.  I’m thinking if I can come back in say five years or so (at least no more than ten, though) to see how much this has improved.

More information can be found on the places we visited at:

            Thousand Islands Region:  http://www.visit1000islands.com/visitorinfo/

            Boldt Castle:  http://www.boldtcastle.com/visitorinfo/

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Austin Cave Day – April 2012

“Austin Cave Day?” I said.  “What the hell is that?”

I was told there was something that happens twice a year where it was an exhibition of the caves near Austin.  Well, I’d been to all the commercial caves in the area, so it made me wonder if there was something I’d missed.  Turns out there was.  Other caves that I hadn’t explored could be found here, and I hadn’t heard about them because they hadn’t been advertised.  These weren’t commercial caves where just anyone could go, but specific sites with limited access.

Thanks to the wonders of the internet, I was able to locate the where and when, and looked forward to another Saturday morning of cave exploring.  I knew because Austin was situated over a fault line (Balcones Fault) where two plates meet created a large number of caves in the area.  What I didn’t know there was a Cave Conservancy that oversaw many of the non-commercial caves.  While many of these caves don’t amount to more than a basic hole in the ground that would take five minutes to see all there was there, the Cave Conservancy maintained gates around the caves to keep people from wandering into them.

The Cave Conservancy also studies the caves to note how they were formed, and if there’s any potentially they might link up to already known locations, or open to brand new unexplored areas.  Sounds like another field trip for Cara waiting to happen here.  I’m not the caver that she is, but it’s still fun to see what’s there.  More importantly, it was another opportunity for me to learn about the area I live in.

DIE’S RANCH TREASURE CAVE

I live in Round Rock, which is northeast of Austin.  Normally that’s not relevant to the travel journals, but this time it was.  According to the website, the Die’s Ranch Treasure Cave was an actual “underground” cave you could go into, while one of the other areas as a cave which formerly had been an Indian shelter.  The “underground” cave sounded more appealing to me.  Since these were over in Cedar Park (which is northwest of Austin), I figured out what time they were going to start letting people in, and got there early.  I thought there’d be a line waiting.  And if I hit it early enough, I could be back in time for my writer’s meeting that day.

Once I had the directions from MapQuest, I navigated through a neighborhood filled with some McMansions, and found the cul-de-sac with the trail that’d lead me to the morning’s fun.  Die’s Ranch Treasure Cave, as well as some of the more “hole in the ground” caves in the area, have been used by local firemen for vertical rope training.  There’s also been some excavation around the area in hopes to find the gold that Sam Bass might’ve hid when he was fleeing from the law back in the late 1870’s.  That’s part of the reason why this cave was named what it was.

The trail goes into an access way behind the neighborhood (which also serves as a fitness trail), and brings you a fenced-off area, with a short path beyond it.  A small throng of residents had also arrived by this time, no doubt to see what existed behind this gated section of their community.  Our guide, Mike, then came by to open the gate.  We followed him down the path, which lead to a small depression with some railings around, and boards over it.  Hmm, so this would be a cave I’d get to climb into, as opposed to walking into.

I understood the boards were in place to keep kids and other critters from falling.  A hinged section was pulled up, and Mike went down ahead of us.  Once he called us to do so, we descended single-file on to a small catwalk.  From the edge of the catwalk, we could see him standing in a section about twenty feet below the catwalk.

There was a ladder which took us down about half-way, and then we had to navigate slippery dirt-covered rocks the rest of the way down.  I’d come prepared wearing my hiking boots, but most of the others had one their flip-flops.  A few people had sneakers, so they had an easier time than those who didn’t have proper footwear.  Beyond the main entrance way was … not much.  There were some small sections that went a little lower, but they were more additional portions of the main chamber than a separate area.

Once I’d seen all there was to see here, I worked my way back up to the catwalk, and out of the hole.  I went over to the pavilion where other Cave Conservancy people were hanging out with information about their organization.  They asked if I was going to make my way over to the other cave.  I mentioned I preferred the more “underground” areas to the above ground areas.  They said there was another underground area open today, although the way it was worded on the website made that unclear.  Really, another?  Point me in the right direction, please.

AVERY RANCH PRESERVE

The other cave which was open today (that I’d find interesting) was located over off Avery Ranch Blvd, which was about half-way between Cedar Park and Round Rock.  I’d driven past the Avery Ranch development a number of times, and never realized there was a cave back there.  Well, I guess that’s part of what Cave Day was all about.

I followed the directions, found a parking space, and trucked over to the gated area where the cave was.  I saw quite a line had formed down the sidewalk.  It’d be a longer wait to get this one, so I hoped it would be more impressive than Die’s Ranch.

The background of the discovery of this cave is similar to that of Inner Space (in Georgetown).  The Avery Ranch development is only about a decade old, as it’d previously been fields or other wild areas.  When the water and sewer lines were being added, soundings of the area detected a hollow section.  As the surveyors hadn’t reported find any cave openings, the developers knew they had something potentially very interesting here.  Finding what was the narrowest point of this small hollow section, an entrance was dug which came upon this cave.  Once explored, the entrance was reconfigured into something which could be sealed off to protect the cave’s interior.  Amy, from the Cave Conservatory, was the source off this information.  She had the job today of watching the entrance to help people in and out.

After going down a short ladder, I was in an artificial passageway that went a short distance before opening up to the main (and really only) chamber.  The developers had been smart enough to put down some metal grating for visitors to stand on, and railings to keep them from climbing on the formations.  I say formations because this was a small scale version of InnerSpace, complete with stalactites, stalagmites, “cave bacon,” and water dripping here and there.

The cave only really had one main section.  Amy had noted that some parts went a little further back, but they were so small they were more fissures than actual cave portions.  Still, this was a nice surprise, and worth the wait to get in.  Okay, so I ended up missing my writer’s meeting today, but this was certainly worth it.  Like the commercial caves I’d been in, there were some formations which looked like the rock was liquid or like melting icicles.

When you realize that all these bubble-looking shapes have been created and smoothed by continuous drips of water of thousands of years, it is really amazing.  It was because of this the cave is sealed off all but two days a year.  Other than those visitors that come in, there is no contamination of the rocks by animals (so this was never a place where a bat colony lived).  As people were being let in the cave on more of an honour system, it’d been strongly suggested to them not to touch anything.  I didn’t see anyone try to do that when I was there, but I’m sure some had to reach out to feel the rocks.

The chamber was a pretty decent size, and the ceiling was pretty high.  You know there’s always someone who’s afraid the roof was going to collapse on them.  I’m not talking about the claustrophobic people who have a genuine fear, but the clueless masses who don’t realize that if this cave was so unstable it would’ve fallen in a long time ago (and if there was any danger of that happening, people wouldn’t be allowed in to visit).

I didn’t make any square footage measurements, but just eyeballed everything.  This was probably about the size of a two or three-car garage, or that of a standard-sized starter home.  Pretty roomy as far as I was concerned.  I’d be happy to live here, one I had power and running water.

When I’m in caves or other natural places, I usually try to get a picture of the subject matter with something which can be used to as a size reference.  Like I’ve done with other shots, I made sure to catch a random person’s head in one of the pictures so you could see how high the ceiling was.

Because the cave had limited space, someone could only enter once someone had left.  While I could’ve spent all day down here to enjoy the cool weather, I had to be a good visitor and allow other’s their opportunity.  Once I came out of the cave, I did get some info on the Texas Cave Conservancy from Amy, and investigated if their meetings were something I could fit into my schedule.

Texas Cave Conservancy has their own FaceBook page, and more information about the next Cave Day can be found as their website (http://www.texascaves.org/cave_day.html).  It ended up being a good way to spend my morning, as I learned more things about the area where I lived.

*** 30 ***

“Trapped on a Roof in Georgetown” (Williamson County Museum) – March 2012 (Mum & Dad Visit Texas, Part Five)

DAY FIVE:  Saturday, 31 March 2012

It was the last full day my parents were going to be in town, and it was nice and sunny.  Mum had noted that in all the different visits down here, we might’ve tapped out most of the local things or close-by day trips, so whenever the next visit was, we might have to do an overnight stay at some location away from the Austin-Round Rock area.  We’d figure that out next time around, and how the logistics would work (why pay for a hotel room for a week in Round Rock when they’re only going to be in it for a couple days; and it’s not always feasible to have them stay where I am now).

We decided to head back up to Georgetown to see if the historical museum was open.  That turned out to be the right thing to do, with very interesting (and amusing) consequences.  Known as the Williamson Museum, it was free to get into, and had a lot of small exhibits on the native people of the area, original exhibits, and how the area slowly transformed into the area it was today.  One interesting, if rather small, focus was on how the German descendants (who’d emigrated to the region a generation or so prior) reacted to the events of both of the World Wars.  (Do you see a pattern how I like the exhibits on World War II?)

Working at the museum that day was Teresa, one of the people from my writer’s group.  I recalled she said that she’d gotten a job at a “museum in Georgetown” but it never occurred to me it was this one.  We hadn’t been at the museum more than ten minutes or so when I spotted Teresa.  She mentioned that her fellow curator Bob was getting ready to give a tour of the Georgetown court house, as it’s technically closed on the weekends.  That was something we jumped on, as we’d be able to wander about inside with a guide.

There were a dozen of us on the tour group, which made things easier for Bob.  Smaller tour groups are always easier, as the guide don’t have to yell to be heard, nor play shepherd as much to make sure people don’t wander off.  He gave us a history of the area, and the events leading up to the construction of the court house.  We also got to see the center portion, which was open to allow us to look all the way up to the rotunda, as well as the actual courtrooms.

On one part of the tour, Bob took us to one of the side rooms which served as his office.  As it was on the second floor, there was a door which opened to an exterior patio, which Bob said that he’d often take his lunch out there.  He used the patio to explain more of the history and construction, and also made references to some of the buildings around the town square.  Bob’s been doing this tour for years he said, and always brought groups out here.  That’s what made what happened next funny, even though Bob was rather mad at it.

Somehow after we’d gone out to the patio, the doors had shut and latched.  There was no handle on the outside, thus no way to actually open them.  Bob had never seen the door latch before, as he usually had to secure the doors from the inside when he was at his office.  The latch was a small deadbolt at the very top of this large wooden-framed glass door.  There was a chain hanging down which could disengage the lock, provided that someone could reach it.  Because there was nothing else connecting the door on that said, Bob and Teresa pried it open as much as they could, but they still couldn’t reach the chain.  I’ve never seen a glass door bend in the manner it did, and was pretty sure they were going to break it.  If they had something which would reach another six or eight inches, then the ring could’ve been grasped.

There was no one else in the court house because it was a weekend, and Bob had locked the exterior doors once we’d gone inside, so we couldn’t flag anyone down on the street for assistance.  We did wave and smile at them.  Teresa had her phone on her, and called the only other person on duty at the museum today, and had her come over to unlock the doors.  It was good there was a spare set of court house keys available.  In all, we were “stuck” on the patio for all of fifteen minutes; not very long, so we were pretty good natured about it.  One lady commented we needed to have shirts printed up that said “Free the Georgetown Twelve.”  Teresa smiled at the comments, but we could tell that Bob was not amused.

Once back inside, we were brought into the other of the two courtrooms inside the building, the one where history was made.  Bob gave us detailed accounts of a case in the early 1920s where local attorney Dan Moody took on the Ku Klux Klan, and won.  In that time period (and especially in the south), the power of the Klan was pretty absolute, and no one had been ever able to get a successful prosecution before.  That was usually because no matter how concrete the evidence was, the “good ol’ boy network” made sure the juries were made up of people sympathetic to the accused Klan member, or outright fear of the Klan was enough to keep others silent or “rocking the boat.”

Bob gave us all the details of this fascinating case, the events that lead up to it, and how as a result the national power of the KKK had been severely weakened by this.  During the hearing, the courtroom was so packed with spectators that people actually climbed the trees next to the building in order to watch what happened.  As he talked, the wheels turned in my head, as I envisioned a dramatic movie showing this important historical event.  I pictured a story which matched the setting of To Kill A Mockingbird, but with a positive ending the way Amistad had.  Teresa asked me if I was going to knock out a screenplay of this for the next NaNoWriMo project.  As fascinating a story that was, I think I’d prefer to watch something produced by a team with far more experience than I have.  I haven’t completely ruled out the possibility, mind you, but that’s a project which would take a lot more time than what I have currently available in order to do it justice (no pun intended).

At the conclusion of the court house tour, we went back to the Williamson Museum to finish looking at the exhibits.  Teresa hung out with us, as my parents got a personal guide for the items.  One of the things in the museum was a mural dedicated to Dan Moody.  While that’s a powerful picture by itself, especially when you know the story behind it, it had a much greater impact after hearing Bob’s excellent narration of the events.

The museum gift shop had a book on the life of Dan Moody, but the portion on the trial covered a scant ten pages, so I didn’t pick it up.  Had there been something with more meaty details, I probably would’ve scooped it up.  Teresa’s comment that because there wasn’t one available, then it was a challenge to me to write one.  Like I don’t have enough on my plate to write about currently.  >grin<  I do see some merit in the idea, and haven’t passed on the suggestion, but I certainly think someone from the Williamson Country Historical Society who is intimately familiar with the subject (read:  Bob) should draft it.

I knew there was some sort of “historical park” in the area, but Teresa said the one I was thinking of wasn’t in Georgetown, but a short distance to the west in Sun City.  I was pretty sure I’d read something in the Community Impact that mentioned Georgetown, but who was I to argue with a museum employee.  It was the middle part of the afternoon, so it’d make a nice drive over there, and would bring us up to dinner.  Mum did ask Teresa if she wanted to meet us later, as we were planning on heading to Texas Land & Cattle.  Teresa appreciated the offer, but had to decline because she already had family plans.

Sun City is not an actual city, but a “retirement community” that has grown to be its own neighborhood.  At most, it’d be considered a “master-planned development,” as there’s a bunch of houses situated around small parks, golf courses, and a community center.  I don’t think this has been in existence for more than a decade (considering the infrastructure construction going on around it), and there’s now probably more than just retirees living here.  Still, this is home to the Veteran’s Memorial Plaza, which was made to honor those from Williamson County who gave their lives in the various conflicts from World War I going forward.

The main portion of this was a curved wall, with an American flag, and six other flags to represent the various service branches.  There’s a T-shaped brick walkway leading up to the wall, and there are names on the bricks which listed branch and conflict.  Some of those bricks also have other US cities on them.  As this was supposed to be for Williamson County (Texas), I’m not sure why other states are listed there.  It could be the person in question was originally from Williamson County and moved to the city later, or (more likely) the city was the birthplace of someone who later became a Williamson County resident.  Normally we wouldn’t have thought too much about this, but Dad happened to notice one of the bricks with the city of “Glens Falls, NY” written on it.  Kind of interesting to go far from home and see stuff about home where you’d least expect it.

To one side of the T-plaza is a wall with names on it which states specifically these were people from Williamson County.  Whoever this “William H. McHugh” was, and whatever his connection to Glens Falls might’ve been, his name wasn’t listed on the wall.  Believe me, we checked to make sure.

From this location, we just shot westward a bit until I was able to pick up 183, which would bring us to the Texas Land & Cattle my parents liked to go (the one near Lakeline Mall).  We had a good dinner, even though our waiter was a little on the scatterbrained side.  He didn’t get anything wrong, but just seemed to be confused a lot.  He obviously wasn’t a new employee, as there’s usually someone shadowing a newbie.  We just marked that up as an interesting and bizarre situation.

The next morning I acted as taxi as I brought Mum & Dad down to the airport, and another fun week of exploration was concluded.

More information can be found on the places we visited at:

            Williamson Museum:  www.williamsonmuseum.org

Dan Moody Case:  http://mainstreet.georgetown.org/georgetown-history/dan-moody-history/

Veteran’s Memorial Plaza:  http://sctxca.org/suncity/about/veterans-memorial/

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