That was the disrespectful phrase cried after Pop, MaPoc, Greg, Jeff, Mom, and Andy went to the Alamo after coming back from their stay at their grandparents stay in Tucson. You see, it was very hot that day, and people got their knees scraped, and after that even they were flagged down by people on the side of the road, saying that they had stolen their R.V. It wasn't actually a great experience there. We hoped that on the 30th of January, a Monday, we would have a better time there. I was excited to go, for the Alamo is talked about in History books, by teachers, and is basically the historical face of Texas, along with cowboys and Indians. But it basically is. "REMEMBER THE ALAMO!" is a household term, just like Albert Einstein and Elvis Presley. But, as we came in with the jeep, seeing these nice trees and streets of San Antonio, just a regular cool little city, similar to that of Louisville, Kentucky, I didn't expect the Alamo to be in such a current city environment. I thought that it would be like a place I went with my Grandparents in '09, out in the desert. So far, all of Texas had been city and river places or bays along the Gulf, stuff like that. I wanted to see some desert! We went around the town trying to find a parking spot, but the only one we had was a few spaces and a fence, a patch of mound really, across from the Alamo. I took my cowboy hat, blue jeans, and cowboy attire, as we parked in this uneasy little space. This was where the adventure we had in San Antonio... began.
Weirdly, across the street was a Riply's ODDitorium. Funny, right? I'll describe it more in full later. There was a Wax museum also. Well, we crossed the street after balancing on beams, waiting for the light to change. I was thinking about a restaurant I had seen when we were searching for parking and Mom was on the phone with her parents, called FuddRucker's. It seemed San Antonio had the weirdest and strangest things so far. Well, we moved along the brown wall, and were going to go left when Mom said that we should go left. There was an alcove in the wall where some trucks were parked behind a small building, and a sign said employees only. We went on, and saw another break in the wall, a bigger one, a man with a cowboy hat and wispy mustache, dark skin and olive eyes, and he seemed the Texas Security Guard. He told us that this was a side entrance, and we could go through here. There were two museum signs on either side of us, with a lot of little plants too, and also an entrance, a sandy building, that closely related the Alamo, I guess. The man told us that this was the gift shop. Rebecca and Dad went to find a restroom, as I looked at the signs, the signs explaining that this was a Spanish Mission and had a full name called San Antonio de Valero, and the place that we were at right now was an old stable, where they would keep the horses. Things seem to change a lot over hundreds of years.
We went into the gift shop, not to be idle, and it was pretty large for a gift shop, not too high of a ceiling, but pretty roomy. We looked at souvenirs and stuff, but I looked for a long time at a collection of guns and swords and little knives, used by the cast in "The Alamo" with John Wayne. One was Jim Bowie's bowie knife. If you have that last name, then you have to have a bowie knife, you know! There were also Indian costumes. A section of it, to the right, was some food and concession stands, plus T shirts, and in the front left corner some books. I didn't look at those at that moment, just didn't get to it. We then went out another door, at the opposite side of this room, and came out into a little spot between two buildings, and we looked at the one we had just come out of, seeing the beautiful little stain glass and nice little pictures. More lush plants. We were at an angle between the buildings, and to the left was a small bridge and little creek leading to more lush plants and little yard, and to my right was a gate, more plants, and part of a long museum panel, with lines and dates, so I supposed it to be a timeline. Mom took a few pictures as Rebecca and Dad came back over, and the former jabbered all about how they saw these weird plants and big fish, and to come look. But there was a movie coming on in The Barracks and we didn't want to miss it, so this fish business had to wait. Mom took up her G-10 camera out of her bag, going to take our picture, and then... it happened.
CRACK CHAH SPLAT!
The camera fell on the concrete ground beneath us, rolling a little bit. Mom let out a gasp, and picked it up. For the next few minutes, between cleaning the lens, inspecting it while holding it up, and talking about how it shouldn't of happen, apologies, Mom saying she failed, stuff like that, we finally moved on, and were okay. Dad said we would send it home and try to fix it when we came back. The only problem was, would the pictures on there, the much needed ones of Galveston and cool times backward, be reachable. We hoped. But we could not worry about that now. Placing the broken camera back into the bag, we then turned right to look at the timeline a little and then go to the Barracks, the show being on in about 15 minutes. Right along the corner, on the right side of this building, were some benches and the large timeline. There was a line separating U.S. and World, and then The Alamo's history, if you understand what I mean. Very interesting. They took some Indians that were around the area, and took them to the place, made them Catholics, and then after a few hundred years worked them and then when they needed money for the Crown directed elsewhere, it was abandoned. It was cool to look at the Alamo's history and then the relative issues in the World at the same time. I can't describe it all though. Too far back.
A grey headed but able bodied man passed by, and Dad joked, "Watch out, he's a Canadian!" I raised my eyebrows, wondering how he knew the man was one. The other guy joked also, and started saying things in his accent, using "Aye" a lot. We talked about the Alamo and other things, as he looked at the Timeline. Dad explained to me that he had taken Rebecca and his picture earlier, so he had heard his accent and already knew his nationality. I nodded after that. Well, when we were done with the Timeline, and my family were sitting down, Mom and Rebecca said they needed to go to the restroom. I followed them, and we passed by the stream. I caught up with them, being in the beginning fairly behind. We went in the dirty restroom up against the building with the vending machine and water fountain. Done with going, Rebecca then showed us a plant that was up over a ledge, among that garden, and there were large green veggies or fruits shaped like jalapenos, that we took pictures of, but didn't know what they were in fact. On our way back, we looked at great big orange gold fish, long and fat, going about in the water. We passed over a small bridge, away from where a man was feeding them. It was cool.
We went past the Timeline, with Dad now, as we came into more shady trees (now I understand why there are all these shady plants and trees, because in the summer it is hot in Texas!) we came upon a long wooden building, flat rectangular top, and this was called the Barracks. We then heard a man yelling, and he sent us off into a room, a small room with some pews, like in Church, and a T.V. Very dim in there. I had Goldfish from the vending machine, and I hid it, as you are not supposed to eat there. A grey headed man in uniform told us it was cool in here and it would be a 15 minute movie, with him talking prior for 15 minutes. I sat with Rebecca in the front wooden pew, looking at a few little paintings and the black T.V. A couple, middle aged, were behind us. We talked to them a little before the time, as I looked behind me and saw a young black haired man in a large cowboy hat, and Mom and Dad among the back rows. I took a crunch of goldfish, as a little more people filed in, and the door was shut. There was a misty smell in this wooden room. Aahh. I took in the man who started telling us thing, kind of old, but not too old, and with a black shirt, saying Daughter's of the Republic of Texas that owned the place. He started talking.
He told us all about it being a mission, and other things, as he recounted that Santa Anna's brother-in law, in the Texas Revolution, besieged the Alamo after all of the guys went inside, and was defeated. Since the guy was partially related to Santa Anna, this defeat of his own blood could not be accepted(Mexican dignity was very large) and so he went with many people to go and suppress the situation. The man did a little background, and that Santa Anna after asking the people to surrender, they did not. The funny man picked up one guy in the back, with glasses on, saying he was Santa Anna. He took a guy in the back, that young cowboy hat guy, and said he was Travis. Santa Anna then said it would be no prisoners, all would die. Then, to the grey headed man with a cleanshaven face and striking features we were earlier talking to, he said that he was the guy named Jim Bowie, who the knife is named after. He said that he was in bed, above our current location, and he was one of the last to be killed. He told us that if we had seen the movie "The Alamo" with John Wayne playing Jim Bowie, that in the movie Wayne died on the front lines, but that was a lie. He told us a lot more things, that the movie got so many things wrong, at intervals in the talk.
"How old are you, sir?" the man asked me as he motioned. "12." "Stand up please." I did so. "The youngest defender at the Alamo would be 15, so you die at 15."
"Aahh, I really wanted that Stallion 3000."(Like a car, but because it's 1836 it's only a horse.) Laughs came all around from the room. The man told us some other things, that Travis was killed on the front lines, he was in charge, being the Lt. Col. He was only in his twenties. But the guy that I playacted as, the 15 year old, died by those evil Mexicans. But in the soldier's defense, they didn't want to kill everyone off, and one guy even had to bury his brother who was on the rebel's side. It was all Santa Anna's fault, and they hated shooting the men who surrendered at a later battle in the war. They were just doing their job. But what a job that would be. Terrible. To know for the rest of your life you did that. And then the guy in charge, the dictator, gets mercy and pardon from Houston, and lives to a grand old age. Terrible. But to change the subject, the man hoped we would like the film, as he walked out. I ate a few more goldfish. The movie was alright, but short compared to the man's talk. After it we said goodbye to the people and went through the back exit, into the mini-museum, the real only museum on the property. So far, the trip had been pretty, good, minus dropping the camera. We learned a lot of background and interesting from the timeline to the man's talk to the movie, and more was to come.
They said it was hand-to-hand combat in the barracks, and the men were just regular people who died, and were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was so sad and so terrible that they were all killed for being there. It made me have a somber frown for the rest of the time. In the museum were a whole train-full of different artifacts, maps, but mostly weapons, like rifles and different stuff like that. It described the whole thing and some more that the man had told us and the movie reinforced. It was a long room, and I had to shush up some one who was texting me, because you had to have your phone on silent, to be respectful. A tear fell down my eye and down my neck, hot as Texas which the defenders might of had come down them as they died in pain, the hot wet tears burning in their eyes, as they raise their rifle, and shoot a final shot at a Mexican regular, as their enemy falls upon them, knife in hand, and ends their short life. It is so saddening, and so grieving of a battle. No battles are good. You would think there was no bright side to this battle, but in reality there is. The Alamo tragedy made Texans want revenge, which made them get independence, which made the U.S. go to war against Mexico, which made us get all those territories, which made all the jobs come here and miners get rich. But at what cost?
At the end of the hallway, there was a black granite stone engraving, which had all the defenders' names on it, all the people that were so brutally and ruthlessly killed. Mom was looking for a possible relative, and the others were outside. And then she showed it to me. On it, it said that there was a Daniel Bourne from England! It was so cool to have an ancestor that fought at the Alamo! But it's sad also. Also what caught my attention was that we have a cousin, in his 20's, and he has been mentioned in this blog, and his name is Daniel! I later texted him, when we had gotten out, that there was someone there, and he stated he was still alive. Funny dude. I couldn't imagine being the family of someone who died there, without mercy. Back outside in a courtyard, we decided to go to the main part, that humped freestanding building you see on all the postcards, shirts, everything, the Alamo! Oh and by the way, forgot to mention it earlier, the Alamo got it's current name from Spanish army, who were called the Alamo HARDSPANISHNAME which means Cottenwood. So it was shortened, which can be called as a good thing. But changing the subject, we went across the left way toward the Alamo.
We saw this famous building, and there is no reason to describe, for either everyone has a picture in their head or Mom will post pics and show you what it is like. We entered a lofty large hall, kind of like that of a church, and had two openings on either side of me. On the right was a small ceremonial room, with a figure of a monk praying, the classic bald head, brown thing around it, and the long brown gown with cheap sandals. To the right was a dusty big room, with a wooden building platform, and it was undergoing renovation. Further on in the room was on the right a counter with people, desks and such, with a diorama before a structure that a man was on, talking to tourists who wanted information out of him. I asked the man if their was any special story about Daniel Bourne, with some dials that read all the defenders. He said he didn't think so, no, and that I could check at the Heritage counter where all the people were. As we were about to leave outside, I went with them, and the cowboy opened the door for me, Travis. We then went into the Gift Shop, and I mused over not seeing a room which was supposed to keep the women and children safe. Well they weren't safe. Ever. Not with the merciless Santa Anna. I don't want to even describe what happened to them...
We went to the gift shop, looked around a bit, and some people said I had a cool hat. Everyone all day had been mentioning the hat. I looked at the books, finding among them a story about a kid who was adopted by Santa Anna and his story, and ones all about the Alamo. The John Wayne movie was also there. I didn't want to learn any more about this Santa Anna do, so I saw one called "The Adventurous Deeds of Deadwood Jones" and it was about an African-American cowboy, and I read the front cover and the first page, and I liked the writing a lot. I made up my mind to buy it. And the lady was very nice about it, saying that you can just tell someone likes a book when they like the first page, and how she got a book for her husband that he never read. She liked my hat. Well, we pretty much left after that. I had a good time at the Alamo. Very informational. It's so sad that it ever occurred though. And I, although the camera was hurt, was going to remember the Alamo, and that they fought so bravely here to save their dream and themselves. Santa Anna is such a jerk I can't even put into words how cruel and mean he was. I compare the man to Hitler, Napoleon, Atilla the Hut, and Bin Laden. Yeah, he was bad. I invite all my readers, to remember the Alamo.
You could of been there, just regular people trying to get their freedom, it could of been you, and you, and you! And you too, Spencer AutoSaf, yeah you know I'm looking at you. I mean, these people died valiantly for the cause of their freedom. That is part of the American dream. Later, they became part of America. Remember the Alamo, folks, or at least put it on your calendar.
But, as we prepared to go to the Riverwalk, we would have bad luck follow us once more.
TO BE CONTINUED...(SEE "THE ALAMO AND SAN ANTONIO RIVER WALK: SAN ANTONIO RIVER WALK" FOR END OF STORY)
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