Monthly Archives: November 2022

Thoughts and Ramblings: don’t go to Bobby Boucher’s house for Thanksgiving: Iron Chef and the great turkey battle; seventy-ninth anniversary of the Battle of Tarawa; Murray Anderson; Welsh calculus; Susie Spindletop’s my closer.

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I hope everyone had a Thanksgiving of plenty and a decent nap afterward while someone in your household watched some foosball. Bobby Boucher’s mother would not be happy with this situation, but then again, I wouldn’t want to have dinner at her cabin. I’ve seen some of her slithering dishes, and nutria nourishment is not something I would wish to partake in either.

Here under the oaks at Ye Olde Block Farm, it’s been an annual event to begin preparing Thursday’s feast on Wednesday, starting at 1 p.m. It’s almost a cosplay of the original Iron Chef series from the ‘90s. But here it’s the “great turkey battle,” and not some other weird stuff Mrs. Boucher would probably like. There is a difference between Iron Chef America and the original show. I remember a friend who tried to watch the Japanese version in the 2000s. Unfortunately, he saw the “great piglet battle.” If you’ve seen the show, then you know they highlight an ingredient. Chop, chop the piglets. They weren’t alive, like the “great sturgeon battle,” but it took him a week to recover from seeing that one. The dinner turned out well, and I’m glad it’s over. As far as my friend is concerned, he knows to stay out of my kitchen.

This week was the seventy-ninth anniversary of the Battle of Tarawa. Port Arthur native Hugo DeBretagne gave his life on D-day three of Operation Galvanic. It was the final day of the battle, and only his comrades know what happened; I couldn’t find any specific information in the war diaries released in 2012. I know nine marines were killed that day, compared to the 1,000 that perished in the first two days of fighting. This wasn’t the first battle that Hugo had been in. I assume he was in the Guadalcanal campaign with the Second Marines (I want to look further into this). I do know that his brother was. Thankfully, James DeBretagne made it out of WWII alive, but not without receiving the Purple Heart.

Both Hugo and his brother James weren’t the only ones who had a tie to this area and fought in the Battle of Tarawa. Murry Anderson, born in Whitney, Texas, grew up on his family’s farm in Deport, near Paris (also Texas). On the Tyler Knows Everything podcast, Murray said he “was doing a man’s work at the farm at age six.” Whether cutting or picking cotton, milking the cows each morning, or picking the corn, it was a rough life during the Depression. When he was seventeen, his father died in the spring of 1942, and the farm became financially unviable. He moved with his mother and his sisters to Dallas. He had six sisters (four got married and lived in Dallas).

Murray’s dream was to fly planes for the Navy, but he didn’t pass the examination. So, he joined the Marine Corps hoping to fly in their corps. The day he was to depart for boot camp, he got a telegram from Washington stating that there had been a mistake in the grading of the exam and that he had passed. He was to report to Hensley Field Naval Air Station in Dallas for flight training. He contacted the Marine Corps about the mistake and was told, “Sorry, but you are in the Marine Corps.” I guess this is why their slogan is “The few, the proud.”

Murray Anderson moved to Beaumont in 1958 and wrote a book about his time in the Marine Corps. The Unrelenting Test of War is an excellent recounting of the history of what he and his fellow marines faced. It is also a gem for understanding what people actually felt and went through back then. I’ll also give a massive shout-out to Tyler Troutman for his interview with Murray in 2020. He has many other stories on the podcast, including how Murray met his wife.

Murray Anderson passed in June of this year, so I want to include the podcast to tell the story in his own words. Our veterans from that era are dying, and every story should be told. Thanks to all who collect the oral histories of these men and women, because I hope that someone in the future will have enough sense to learn the hell this generation endured. Many people complain about their lives and how hard it is nowadays. I see boomers, Generation Xers, millennials, and Generation Zers crying about one thing or another, but try living through the Depression as a child and then fighting a two-front war that didn’t really affect your family, even though you went through a lot of crap that they would never experience and wouldn’t understand. This was the greatest generation, and don’t ever let some boomer tell you otherwise, unless it’s a Vietnam vet, because they got the shaft from the other boomers. Change my mind!

Well, I have to cut this week’s ramble short because I’m currently doing Welsh calculus before Tuesday’s match with the Three Lions. I’ll leave you with an excerpt from “Susie Spindletop’s Weekly Letter” dated November 27, 1927, because Susie was always a strong closer.

Dear Della-

Thanksgiving has come and gone, as you may have noticed, and now for the greatest convention week of the year. I refer to that season commonly known as Christmas when folks do exactly what they are supposed to do because they are supposed to do it. As currently conducted the Yuletide period could not be more stereotyped were it the work of a luncheon club. It is very cut and dried.

But there, there! I mustn’t be dampish. I may believe that persons give presents they have no right to give, and grind their teeth while doing so; I may believe that thousands of stupid cards are sent out every year, with engraved sentiments mailed out to a long-list of friends; I may believe that every household, with very, very few exceptions, labors earnestly and usually unsuccessfully to retain that old timey spirit, but it is rather unbecoming for me to say so isn’t it?

One thing is gloriously beautiful- about Christmas as ever, Della, and that is the steadfast illusions of the children. Anything we can do to continue this charming deceit is effort well spent. Any invention we can supply that will make old Santa invade a snowless country with reindeer and sleigh is an invention which though one of the most impossible frauds ever imposed on an unsuspecting and trustful juvenile, ought to be continued.

And that reminds me of a commercialized Christmas story told in newspaper circles. Seems that an ambitious automobile agent in a southern city wanted to advertise old Nick as coming to town in a limousine Eight, or whatever make of car it was he represented. He had a commercial artist draw up a picture showing Santa at the steering wheel, just lickety splitting into town. He took the ad to the local daily. And the daily would not accept it.

“No, sir,” said the advertising manager, shaking his head, “that won’t go with the kiddies. You may have the best car in the world, but Santa isn’t supposed to know it. He still travels behind reindeer in this paper.

So said Susie November 27, 1927

Iron Chef: Suckling Pig Battle Chen vs Stelvio

222 – The Costliest Day in US Marine History – WW2:

The Unrelenting Test of War by Murray Anderson

Tyler Knows Everything podcast: https://youtu.be/JN-z-QB9TOg

Thoughts and Ramblings: transferring prisoners on a cemetery tour on Veterans Day; cemetery symbolism; Brandon and Skipwith may have been a thing; Woodmen of the World; International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo; Yma o Hyd

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Blue skies and tailwinds

This is the last time on Thoughts and Ramblings that I’ll mention what happened last week, but I wanted to include the faces of the people and a few words. I will digress more on this subject on Mondays if needed. Every time I came upon the B-17 Texas Raiders at the airshows, the crew was out there greeting the visitors with a smile and their history lessons. When I first went inside the old girl as a child, I was mesmerized by the plane. A fortress indeed. After many years and crew changes, the guys’ attitude remained the same. They always put the history of the B-17 Texas Raiders front and center. At every airshow I attended, those who manned the Texas Raiders were cutting it up with the kids who showed up for their first event. Even today, that’s something that impacts children. I know the airshow will go on, but that B-17 with only one wheel trying to land during the Tora Airshow will never happen again, and there’s history to that (link below); unfortunately, though, those guys are no longer here to explain its significance to you. We lost six great men on Saturday, and here are their names and faces.

https://warbirdsnews.com/warbird-articles/texas-raiders-one-wheel-tribute.html

Terry Barker, Craig Hutain, Kevin “K5” Michels, Dan Ragan, Leonard “Len” Root, and Curt Rowe.

Without any knowledge of what happened, I’ll add that Craig Hutain was usually the guy in the P-40 that chased the zeros during the Tora shows. He had been flying since he was ten years old (that’s not a typo). As you can imagine, with over fifty years of flying experience, he was an expert. Here, under the oaks on Ye Olde Block’s farm, they will all be remembered. Please keep the families of these men in your prayers.

Blue skies and tailwinds.

Thoughts and Ramblings: transferring prisoners on a cemetery tour on Veterans Day; cemetery symbolism; Brandon and Skipwith may have been a thing; Woodmen of the World; International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo; Yma o Hyd

On Veterans Day, we did a Magnolia Cemetery tour for those who signed up for the McFaddin-Ward House and Museum lecture series. It went really well. Those walking tours are good because you can discuss history in a different setting compared to when someone is stationed at their spot. I love our Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour, but unfortunately, I’ve never taken it because I’m too busy at my station. Still, I did have spies out with digital recorders, and I must say (again) that I love our presenters!

Inside the Norvell Mausoleum

That day, the tour was originally meant to consist of two tours that would last an hour each, scheduled at different times, with Judy Linsley and I as the guides. But things got crossed in the timey-wimey email universe. In the end, though, we did it. We decided that the short tour could be split into two areas. One covered the hill and the original plots of the cemetery, while the other included its lower portion.  Since Judy knows the hill better than me, she would take her group up there and talk for thirty minutes while I took my group around the lower part and talked about those residents. It worked out well because if you want to know about those on the hill, Judy is the one to listen to. I know my people and stories around the office and the flagpole. We agreed that we would do a prisoner exchange at the thirty-minute mark in the middle of the tour area, at the Keith plot where Tom the Tramp is interred. Yes, it was my idea to transfer the people on the tour between the two of us. I thought that by listening to guides who know their subject, the visitors would have a better experience. It was also me who called it a prisoner exchange. This is how my mind works, so consider it if you want me to speak at your event. Thanks to all who participated. I assume you enjoyed the tour because you were a great crew.

One thing that I brought up on the tour was the cemetery’s symbolism and some fraternal features. A funerary urn, for example, represents immortality. If there’s a drape over the urn, it symbolizes the veil between life and death. A broken obelisk or column means a life that ended prematurely. One obelisk on the hill was put there to memorialize Brandon Chaison, who died aged twenty-one when he was thrown off his horse. Family tradition holds that he and Skipwith McFaddin, W. P. H. McFaddin’s daughter from his first wife, were in love. I will also add that one of my favorite names is Skipwith. The other two are Seawillow and Fannie. My stepdaughters are thankful that I was not around in the naming department, but they might make a fantastic Brady Bunch reboot if anyone’s interested. I threw that out to you for free. Sorry if you’re named Marcia, Jan, or Cindy, but those names rock!

Woodmen of the World

When you scan over the many acres of headstones in Magnolia or any old cemetery, you may see ones that look like tree stumps. They are the product of the Woodmen of the World, an insurance company back in the day. The company is still around, but I believe they’re not as prominent as used to be. The Woodmen of the World derived from the Modern Woodmen of America, a fraternal group founded in 1883. The Woodmen advertised themselves as an organization for the “Jew and Gentile, Catholic and Protestant, the agnostic and atheist.” In other words, they didn’t care who you were; they just wanted your money.

In Magnolia Cemetery, you can find many different fraternal groups. The Odd Fellows are a prominent one; they even have their own section. I’m always wondering if today we could bring back to SETX some sort of fraternal order, such as the International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo, Inc. They are still active but have too many restrictive rules that I don’t agree with. However, I’m game for using a Cheshire cat as a mascot. Anyway, this order was founded in Arkansas in 1892 during a layover by some guys from the timber and lumber industry whose train had broken down. I’m sure debauchery ensued, and we had another order that today lives on as a webpage. They were big back then until the depression hit. Who knows what the actual order is up to now? Illuminati stuff probably, because their symbol is a cat, and cats want to take over the world. Please tell this to the Dogtober people in Beaumont; Catvember is all they ask for, but I digress.

The World Cup begins today in Qatar, and I was just informed that no beer will be sold in the stadiums. I blame FIFA for this; my condolences to the English, the Germans, and the Welsh for this tragedy.

Until next week, cheers mate! Gott ein Bier! Yma o Hyd (we’re still here, and to hell with everyone else, because we’re Cymru!).

Craig Hutain flying the P40:

One Wheel Tribute by Kevin Michels:

https://warbirdsnews.com/warbird-articles/texas-raiders-one-wheel-tribute.html

Gravestone symbols:

http://wolfememorial.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/GRAVESTONE-SYMBOLS-and-THEIR-MEANINGS.pdf

Woodmen of the World:

https://www.woodmenlife.org/about/history/

Odd Fellows:

Home

International Concatenated Order of Hoo-Hoo, Incorporated:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Concatenated_Order_of_Hoo-Hoo

Dogtoberfest:

Home 2023

Yma o Hyd:

Monday Digressions

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I’ve been pondering doing a blog called Monday Digressions for a while now because I have a lot of interests, and some of these don’t pertain to SETX. So, when I get hardcore into Welshyness, those there for SETX history on Sunday’s blog won’t have to read my constant digressions. But they get what they pay for. So, this week I thought I would test the waters. However, I really wasn’t expecting the topic.

I spent most of the morning finishing up my thoughts and ramblings. It was all about the Beaumont Boys and those who died. Twenty-four came home to be buried here, but others didn’t, and it affected their loved ones. I won’t even go into the lecture much, but I assume it went well for most people. I believe it was the most attended lecture for the McFaddin-Ward House this year. It was a great chance to throw me up front and make me talk about things that I don’t usually discuss. Well, at least it’s over, and Kelli and Judy did a great job. In contrast, on Thursday I spent all day at Ford Park with a bunch of Aggies, freezing my butt off, because someone there puts locks on the thermostats. Of course, farmer Brown and old McDonald had a jacket, but I’m not as smart as them, so now I’m sick. One thing I will tell you is that when those folks on I-10 were doing their usual something and a tanker truck caught fire, I wanted to run over there, not because the people in the accident needed help (they were fine), but because I was freezing. Let that sit there if you want to judge my capitulation at the lecture. I’m glad everyone showed up; at least I got my stuff together in the end.

A few hours after I finished this Sunday’s blog, I checked my social media and saw that the Tora Airshow and the Commemorative Air Force had posted a thoughts and prayers tweet. That always sucks. Dammit, this hit hard. Six people are dead, and they are volunteers who fly those planes and teach the history of what those relics did in their era.

I’ve seen the videos and won’t comment on what happened until those doing the investigation have finished. It is a tragedy, and I grieve for the families of all those lost. They were not paid to do these shows. They flew these planes out of love, wanting to bring history to life.

As a kid and a teenager in the 1980s, I’ve been inside the Texas Raiders B-17 at the Jefferson County Airport, and I have seen it fly many times. I love the old planes; they’re almost family to me, so this hurts.

I’m tired and sick, and part of me died Saturday, but I digress.

Blue skies and tailwinds guys!

Thoughts and Ramblings: Me, Krampus, and der Belsnickel will be up to nothing; World War I memorial; the Beaumont Boys; Minor’s cross

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My calendar is done until February, so Krampus, der Belsnickel, and I will enjoy nothing at all until then. Actually, I am looking forward to bringing up a Welsh character called the Mari Lwyd, but that’s in December, so no more Welshness until then. However, I will say that it’s a guy dressed in a sackcloth with a horse skull on top that knocks on your door and incites a rap battle for your food and alcohol! I love the Welsh! Stay tuned.

At both the lecture and the cemetery tour, we discussed the movement/committee that wants to move the World War I memorial from Triangle Park to Magnolia Cemetery. I’m sure you’re wondering where this park is located, and I’m also certain that you didn’t know there was a memorial dedicated to the Beaumont Boys who died in World War I. Well, the current location is on Main street, in front of the old Beaumont Enterprise building, across the street from the Fire Museum of Texas. Triangle Park may be the smallest park in Texas because it’s triangle-shaped with only the monument and a bunch of aggressive jasmine as greenery. Truth be told, the memorial used to be in Keith Park, located at the present-day site of the Julie Rogers Theatre, which was built as the original city hall in 1927.

The memorial was a project of a community of Beaumonters who wished to honor those who died in the Great War, whether in battle or during the Spanish flu pandemic. The Beaumont Journal led the fundraising, which consisted of donations of no more than $5 per person, so that as many people as possible could donate to the memorial. Initially, the monument was supposed to have the names of all the Beaumont Boys who perished inscribed on it, but this never happened. Though if these fine folks/extraordinary researchers get their way, it will finally happen. I’m excited about this, and so are the people at Magnolia Cemetery. So, if you know anyone pulling the strings at the City of Beaumont, you may mention this project. All help is appreciated!

Twenty-four Beaumont Boys were brought back home after the war. Twenty-two of them are interred in Magnolia, and two are down the road in Evergreen Cemetery. George Carroll Smart, the first Beaumont Boy to make the ultimate sacrifice, is buried near the flag pole in his family’s plot. Shortly after his death, George’s sister received a letter from Captain T. C. Reid, Commander of the Thirty-eighth Infantry, with details of his death.

“Private Smart died as is only a good soldier’s privilege, namely: facing and fighting bravely our enemies. Private Smart has always shown himself to be a very good soldier, always obeying orders readily and in every way earning the highest esteem of his officers and fellow soldiers; his comrades are to this day mourning the loss of a dear friend and good soldier who gave up his life gladly and bravely while fighting for humanity and liberty.

His grave is located on Moulins Hill, overlooking the river Marne. Our local chaplain placed a cross with his name and number on it and offered a very appropriate prayer over his grave, and I think nearly every officer and man in the company paid his last respect to him before leaving that area. Please accept my deepest sympathy in your bereavement.”

A sad way to learn of your loved one’s death, but George did come home, which somehow brought closure to the family. Others did not get that luxury. Their loved ones still lie somewhere in Europe, never to return.

A few years ago, I was photographing headstones in Magnolia and came upon an old cross with the words “That I Gave, That I Have.” I didn’t learn the meaning of these words until last week when I was in the same area. I was searching for the Minor family plot to see if one of the Beaumont Boys, Farrell Dabney Minor, was ever brought back. As I noticed the cross again, I saw a Daughters of the Texas Revolution medallion on it, so I checked the name. The cross is for Eleanor Minor. Her husband, Farrell Dabney, and she lie side by side. There was no trace of their son Farrell Dabney Minor Jr. Eleanor gave everything she had for the war effort, but he never returned.

Until next week, welcome home, boys.

Thoughts and Ramblings: Not Talking Turkey; Don’t Hit Me with Them Negative Waves; Hans Keiling; Gen Xers; Wings over Houston; Miss Rachel; Lecture Time.

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Wings Over Houston 2022

November is here, and we’re not going to talk turkey all month; you’re welcome. October is a trigger month for me, and I brought up many things that are not technically SETX history, but I guess you get what you pay for on my site. But really, who else would bring up an anime character on a SETX regional history blog? Especially when your target audience is people aged 35–112. I acknowledge that I may not be the brightest star in the sky. Truth be told, I had been waiting six months to bring up Yuuki! And I may not be finished. If there’s ever a time when we can bring up the history of tanks and tankery in general, I will definitely bring up Yukari Akiyama 秋山 優花里 from the Girls und Panzer series. She was a true historian of tanks. Hell, she was a fan of Sergeant Oddball. So, if you disagree, “don’t hit me with them negative waves so early in the morning. Think the bridge will be there and it will be there. It’s a mother, beautiful bridge, and it’s gonna be there. Ok?”

Well, let’s bring up tanks for a moment. If anyone knows the story of who owns the tank that used to be at the Beaumont airport on Highway 90, I would love to hear it, and a ride would be nice.

On Wednesday, I was at Magnolia Cemetery playing hooky from work because that’s what you do when you get fed up, but I’m self-employed, so. Oh well. I was looking for someone’s loved one, who died in 1917. I was also there to meet a friend to talk about the twenty-two World War I veterans brought back and interred in Magnolia. But in my search, I also found another veteran who fought in World War II. I remembered his name and story from a Port Arthur News article in the Jefferson County Historical Commission files.

Hans Max Keiling immigrated from Germany in 1956. His story should be a movie, as he is one of those immigrants who loved this county for its freedom. I wish I had heard how he got here in his own words, but I will use newspaper articles and a friend’s recollection of his speech at the dedication of the World War II prisoner of war camp in China, Texas.

Hans was from Frankfurt an der Oder, a German town on the Oder river, near the Polish border. He was drafted into the German army and became a master sergeant and a tank commander at twenty-three. He never served in the S.S. In his newspaper article, he stated he only fought the Russians and never faced the Americans. From what I know of the Russian front, it was a nightmare of logistics during which everyone waited for Der Failüre to see how many soldiers would die to hold at all costs some land they shouldn’t have taken in the first place. Keiling did his duty, but when the Germans surrendered, he ended up in Russian hands and was put in a labor camp near Stalingrad, where he spent three and a half years working in a coal mine fourteen hours a day.

From here. I’ll quote the rest of the article, but I find his message of freedom and democracy in many stories of people who were just trying to live their life until some %&*%!& politician screwed it up. (It doesn’t matter which side of the wall you’re on. Don’t hit me with your candidate because if they have a party agenda, they’re the same.)

In 1948, some of the prisoners of war who had special training were sent to East Germany to train “police forces.” Keiling said he had to choose between staying in the coal mines, where he could perish any day, and going to East Germany. He chose the latter, signing an agreement under pressure from the KGB.

Keiling became a special weapons training officer at the “police academy,” but soon “found out this training had nothing to do with police work.” Germany was secretly working to establish a new army, although prohibited from doing so under its terms of surrender.

Nevertheless, Keiling said, he had no choice in the matter. One night in 1950, while walking to the post office, he was kidnapped by two KGB officers and was jailed for six months, receiving monthly “hearings,” then sentenced to 10 years in a slave labor camp.

He was sent to the coal mines in Vorkuta, Siberia, 80 miles above the Artic Circle. Each day, he marched three miles from the barracks to the coal mine, with the temperature usually hovering over at 45 degrees below zero. He was released when Stalin died in March, 1953, but remained in custody of the Russians. He escaped to West Berlin while being transported back to East Germany.

In 1954 he settled in West Germany, where he met the niece of Bruno Shulz, the man who founded Gulfport Shipyard in Port Arthur.

Keiling was finally able to emigrate from Germany in 1956. He moved to Texas and worked for Shulz, managing a trailer park he owned in Kerrville and working on his ranch in Comfort. It was in Texas that Keiling learned to speak English, in part from television. Keiling worked for Schulz until his death in 1981.

He moved to Port Arthur, worked as a security guard until 1984, moved to Temple and moved back to Port Arthur last year.

He has returned to work with the same security company, Maritime Guard.

The good-humored but politically outspoken Keiling said he is proud to be an American.

And uses his freedom of speech in what he considers a struggle against the threat of governmental dictatorship.

“In America, people do not know how fast you can lose your freedom,” he said.

Okay, people, just breathe. Your avocado toast is secure! No. On second thought, I’m not going to blame my favorite kiddos, who seem to have no sense of direction. I belong to Generation X and have many quarrels with those who came before me and those who were born after me. We are the disgruntled. I also have a few issues with my kind. As I stated last week, I don’t do Facebook because I have no interest in hearing most people’s “opinions” on things that don’t concern them. However, I did look at the Wings over Houston page this past weekend, and boy was there a bunch of whiners! I went Saturday because I watched the weather report. Yes, it was cloudy, but all my favorites can fly under the clouds. The pyrotechnics crew was also rockin’ for the Tora, Tora, Tora crowd. I will say that everyone did a good job. Sorry to some that the weather ruined your plans on Friday and Saturday, but Sunday was perfect for your jets. On Saturday there was a lot of crap about the Blue Angels flying under the clouds. Again, if you paid extra to be there on Saturday, you should have been aware of the weather, which the weather is nature’s beast. Hell, my photos were taken that Saturday near the port-a-potty, behind the fence of the photographers’ pit. I guess I remain a master strategist. But that damn loudspeaker was always in the way. The photos are not perfect, but you’re welcome!

An odd thing happened when I was searching the vendors to buy a hat. I have caps, but my Lamar Cardinals hat looks pretty much like the American flag on the moon. It’s become crispy from the sun. My other one is a Houston Texans hat that I would wear to work were it not for the fact that people would keep asking me about the team. This is a problem because I have no allegiance to them. I don’t hate them; I just don’t care. To quote Mr. T, “I have no time for jibber-jabber.”

As I purchased my hat, an older gentleman who looked eerily like Jim “PeeWee” Martin, who passed this year, began to explain to me what the Commemorative Air Force hat meant and the Canadian Jet Snowbirds on it. I told him about my experiences at the airshow. Whether it was at the Jefferson County Airport in the 1980s or ‘90s or at Ellington Field, these shows sparked something in me that I hold dear. These were the days when pilots didn’t have computers running the navigation. They were young and went to war for their countries. In the end, many lost their lives to be patriots on both sides; they ended up as cannon fodder.

Photo Credit: www.facebook.com/people/Jim-Pee-Wee-Martin-G506/100044537315053/

I told this man that if it has a propeller, I am interested; sorry for not caring about jets. I’m not against the Blue Angels, Sammie Hagar, or even the Blue Devils, because I don’t follow Duke basketball, but something about the planes from that era inspires me. And they had them this year! As Miss Rachel would say, “Good job” Wings over Houston! If you know about Miss Rachel, then you know! Godsend. I’ll leave a link at the bottom of the page for new parents or grandparents.

Well, the McFaddin-Ward House Museum lecture is on Thursday, November 10, at 6:30 p.m.; if you’re interested, please come. Crossing fingers that I don’t have a General Patton moment like when he talked in front of the Ladies Auxiliary.

Bis zum nächsten Mal, auf Wiedersehen.

Wings Over Houston Photos:  

https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjAd6qu

Jim “Pee-Wee” Martin:

Obit:

https://www.military.com/daily-news/2022/09/13/d-day-veteran-of-101st-airborne-jim-pee-wee-martin-dies-101.html

Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100044537315053

Blue Angels and Sammy Hagar:

Miss Rachel:  

https://www.youtube.com/c/SongsforLittlesToddlerLearningVideos

McFaddin-Ward House:  

Magnolia Cemetery: 1847 to the Present – Where the History of Beaumont Lives