Photography

whose name is inscribed on one of the plaques on the wall inside the Alamo. From my Dad's side of the family. I know so very little about that side of the family, it being torn asunder and spread to the four winds during the Great Depression. About the only other thing I know is that one of my Dad's relatives was a Texas Ranger.

I loved Texas when I lived down there for close to 20 years, but those were the halcyon days of Texas. Even had a Democratic governor and people were really nice to each other, no matter who you were or what you looked like. Lived in San Antonio when Cisneros was major. I have a lot of good memories from there, and am now just heartsick over what Abbot, Paxton, and others have done to that glorious state. I used to say Kansas was my home of birth; but Texas was my home of heart. I just can't say that anymore. These are bittersweet pictures for me. I went to the Alamo often, and to the surrounding area. Of course, if I went back now, I know it'd look so much different than it did when I was there. Time changes all things...