Saturday, October 24, 2015

11 days on a Cruise

Here we go on another adventure. We decided to blow our two weeks of vacation on an 11 day cruise to the Eastern Caribbean. On the Carnival Dream we have scored a “sale” off-season cruise to Nassau, Bermuda, St Maarten (not sure why it’s spelled with two As), St Thomas, ending in San Juan, Puerto Rico. On sale because it’s hurricane season.

Check-in was uneventful for one exception. During the rather droll question and answer period, Disneylandesque chicanes and the phalanx of ship photographers insisting on documenting your every cruise moment we all endure during one of these sojourns, one stood out. The lovely Toya leaned over her laptop and, lowering her voice, asked my wife if she thought she might be pregnant. Imagine our surprise at this 20-something asking my clearly 59ish wife if she might be with child. After all the questions about our health and if we had ever been around any human who may have coughed or sniffed in our direction. As it turns out, the cruise lines have a “Pregnancy Policy”. Apparently one can only sail if they have been pregnant less than 24 weeks. The generic response is that they don’t have the needed medical facilities to handle miscarriage or delivery. Ok….I can go with that.

It might also cause a little rift when it came to the child’s nationality. There are no stedfast rules to go by but generally (thanks to GPS), the child’s citizenship might be determined by location on the high seas. The child could be registered under the country flag the ship is registered to (Panama for the Dream), the proximity to either the port of departure or arrival (New Orleans, USA, Puerto Rico, US Territory), or the parents can weigh in under the legal concept of Jus Sanguinis (right of blood). No worries….that ship has sailed for us.

On our first Sea Day, we woke up to….rain. Hurricane Joachim had just wound it’s way through our destinations the week before but left behind a nasty Low Pressure cell over the southeast and Florida leaving places like South Carolina with 14 inches of rain and major flooding they haven’t seen in about, according to their Governor Nikki Haley (I love the spelling of her name), 1000 years. Well, how do they know that…..I’m not sure the native Americans had rain gauges back then. I’m picturing a little guy in a lion skin deftly drawing a charcoal weather summary ala Weather Underground, looking a whole lot like Al Roker, scratching away with his charcoal tipped stick. Maybe there’s a cave in the Carolinas somewhere chronicling the weather patterns of yore.

As we sat sipping our early morning coffees on the Lanai Deck (Dianna cannot go far without the guarantee of an Iced Moca Cappuccino at the end of the trail), I contemplated how much rain the vast body of water before us (the Gulf of Mexico) needed to keep it filled. I know….pretty lame but inquiring minds (yeah…mine) need to know. A quick check of Google (things are improving, we actually have inexpensive Internet access now) brought the usual avalanche of information.

Due to the ebbs and flows of the atmosphere, the tropical oceans generate the most rain and, depending on the region, can cause between 115 and 197 inches (holy cow!) of rainfall per year (yes Tonia….about 1/3 of an inch per day). Of course, that moisture then gets carried back over land (well….except for California it seems) and falls collecting in rivers and streams which also flow back into the ocean (in various degrees of cleanliness) refilling it that way as well. The Amazon has the highest flow of 55, 211,960 gallons into the Atlantic….A SECOND! This re-circulation is referred to as Hadley Circulation and helps in driving global weather which generates the hurricanes, tropical storms and thunderstorms we watch on the Weather Channel and our weather apps. So as long as this continues (depending on your views on global warm……opps, sorry, climate change) we thankfully, won’t run aground anytime soon.

Remarkably, after surveying the ships compliment, we determined there are few riders under 50 and lots older than that. There is a smattering of 20 and 30-somethings but they are so few as almost to be nonexistent….and absolutely no little kids except for one infant in a stroller I saw (Ok...turns out there were 78 kids aboard...who knew?). Thus the halls and decks are littered with walkers, wheel chairs and a collection of canes and crutches. The fun began when, during the safety briefing, when asked for a show of hands of how many needed special assistance in the case of a water emergency, like half the people there raised their hands. Hey…there’s even a blind lady with a walker AND a service dog (a really cute yellow Lab). Well and to say there was also an older woman who had her little Bijon in a stroller too (seriously...you can't make this stuff up). I can’t wait to see how this all plays out on the excursions when we get to land.

To say the clubs close down early is an understatement (you can hear crickets on the various decks around 10) but there’s always a long line at the buffets. Evening dinners are punctuated by the openings of those 7 day pill organizers, which sound like the soft popping of gunfire off in the distance. And, on a personal note, they may be old but they pack the workout room and walking/jogging track every morning.

Another interesting factoid I learned while eavesdropping (I do a lot of that) is that now you can hire a male or female “host” to be your escort. A pioneering placement agency for speakers and entertainers works with the various cruise lines to hire “hosts” to be an escort to single older passengers for $30 dollars a day to dine and dance with. Officially,  no hanky-panky allowed but really, who knows what transpires. They are treated as employees and can take advantage of any of the amenities and act as part of the entertainment staff. What a cool gig.

The formal dining room provide a better experience than the buffets in that there's a lot of personal service and a better selection to choose from. And seriously there is nothing more entertaining than a bunch of servers (clearly many have not had formal training) from various Asian countries trying to serenade us, singing a Dean Martin song with Italian lyrics.


Our first port was Nassau. Now Nassau has not changed much since our last trip except for the natives. Poor bastards now have to pay sales tax on everything they (and we) buy. Like most small countries, they had been able to get along on the tourist dollars to provide them with a cushion against inflation but, as one worker told us, “They tell us the tax was needed to offset the higher cost of Government but our paychecks never seem to go up.” Welcome to our world Nassau.

I was always cognizant of the humidity in the Caribbean so when we book tours, they must have two criterion. They must have a good customer rating and they have to have air conditioned rides. Thus our Best of 10 stops tour. Our Tour Guide, Teko, was very informative but was somewhat distracted by a woman who plopped herself down in the front passenger seat and ran a running monologue of, “Hey…listen to all the cool things I’ve seen and I know this famous person and that famous person”. So Teko had a hard time getting a word in edgewise.

The coolest part of the tour was a stop at the  
John Watlings Distillery where we got to sample various Rums from their shelves. AND we got to stand where, in 2006, Daniel Craig jumped a wall in a chase scene from Casino Royale (2006). Wow…drinking rum can really smooth out a long tour and I was much better able to tune out Ms. Social Security Administration retiree.


The last cool thing we got to do was stop at Freddie-Gone-Bananas, a neat little restaurant on the “fish-fry” row of restaurants on Arawak Cay. There we got a great little culinary exhibition by their chef on the intricacies of shelling and cooking Conch. We were introduced to Conch in Key West and had no idea how important Conch was to the diet and economy of the Bahamas.


The entire Conch is utilized and nothing goes to waste. The shells are used to sell or made into jewelry, the whole Conch itself is edible but some parts are more palatable than others. Those not used for food are used as an excellent bait for other fish species in the area. The Conch is loaded with protein and, of course, in every third-world country, there are elements of it that are considered aphrodisiacs. Particularly the  “pistol” a wiggly little appendage that both male and female Conch possess. Our tour guide explained it is Bahamian Viagra and guarantees a night of magic. Well…except for Marine Biologists who believe Pistols are used to aid digestion in the little Conch but who wants to rain on that parade.



What we (I) really took away from that session was the incredible Banana Rum drink they made. Obviously Rum is mixed with banana syrup and blended with fresh banana almost to the consistency of baby food you were able to suck through a straw. When I get to that assisted care living place (the one my daughter threatens to pick for me), that will be the soft food of choice I want.


I want to applaud Nassau on their health care system as well. There are two hospitals on the island, Doctors Hospital which is private and the Princess Margaret Hospital which is public. Because of the tourist money, anyone can check in to Princess Margaret for a $10 dollar co-pay. After being diagnosed it’s sliding scale costs and free prescription medications. Its’ like $20 bucks for an x-ray and all insurance is accepted. Pretty cool.

Back on board (after a little nap…yeah, I’m taking a lot more of those too) we got to watch “Insurgent”, the second of the Divergent movie series, on the big screen on the pool deck. Very cool under the stars with a nice warm box of fresh popcorn. Awesome.

There are those “days at sea” listed on the daily schedules. I’ve often overheard how many feel days at sea are a little discomforting. They need to be busy or on shore doing some activity or other. I kind of like those days just chugging through the ocean on the way to somewhere else. Seated on our veranda looking out over the gently rolling waves is rather calming and at the same time foreboding. A view some might call beautiful is, after all, a vast steppe if you will. Someone remarked “beautiful, beautiful, magnificent desolation” (Buzz Aldrin, 1969).

With life thriving underneath, above, it might as well be a desert. You can’t eat or drink what might be on the surface and your chances of survival off the ship would be slim to none if you couldn't be found within a very short time. At night, with no moon, it can give one pause as to the possibilities of rescue. Hey, they still can't find that Malaysia 777 Airliner have they! So we put our faith in all the modern technology to keep us safe. Wait a minute….isn't that what they said about the Titanic?

First time in Bermuda and first time for an overnight port. We scheduled a water tour and snorkel adventure. This little beauty is still a “British Overseas Territory” wayyyyy out in the Atlantic about 640 miles to the nearest US point of land (Cape Hatteras). Originally discovered by the Spanish in 1503, some Portuguese guys got shipwrecked around 1543 and were the sole residents until the British Virginia Company established the first permanent settlement in 1609 and the British just hung on to it to this day.

Bermuda is the result of a volcanic caldera which gave it it’s shape as a kind of fish hook with the high points of the caldera making up the land mass. It is small…about 26 square miles with about 64 miles of beaches some, on the south shores, appear pink as the result of the pink coral shavings from tidal surges mixing with the white sand giving a pink hue. Very cool.

Our tour guide Zander (cool name) and the whole crew of the
Restless Native were native Bermudians. He told us the island is rather secluded from the normal Caribbean style of island and rather exclusive. As you can imagine, it’s kind of expensive to live here. But the average income is around $100,000 and the typical home is worth $1.5 million. We were surprised to hear tourism was  only 10% of their GDP. They don’t make anything here except money. The most prevalent businesses here are (of course) banking and reinsurance. Yeah, I didn’t get that either.
Reinsurance Companies buy other insurance companies policies to spread the risk of high dollar clients over more than one company in case of catastrophic loss. Kind of like the secondary Mortgage market, buying riskier mortgages as investments to keep a particular mortgage company’s portfolio healthier so it’s stockholders or investors stay happy (yeah…we all care about that!).

We got into the cool water and kicked around for about an hour just so we could get out and get to drink the alcohol. Yep, no drinkies until after the death-defying swimming with the fish. I must report the Swizzle and Dark and Stormy rum drinks were awesome. A Bermuda national drink, Rum Swizzle a mixture of local Gosling’s Black Seal Rum, pineapple, orange juice and their Ginger Beer, are quite refreshing and worth a try. The Ginger Beer adds a little effervescence and just a hint of spice as it hits the back of your throat. Really tasty.

The next day came bright and cool and another full day on the beach I like to refer to as the “shopping day”. We woke late (cause we were pooped out from yesterdays snorkel adventure and drinking binge) which made debarking easy because everybody with an excursion had already left. So we took the shuttle around the Naval Dockyard and wandered the shops looking for……stuff. Hanging, knick-knack, skin refreshing, cute, grandson wearing stuff. We did four hours and about a hundred dollars an hour all told.

The surrounding buildings we walked through were all built around 1860 to 1867 as the British established a Naval way-station for their Navy and ships headed for the Americas. There’s a prison from which the British got their labor force with an equal number of slaves to develop their base and a Vituallary (yes Doug..that's where the word Vittles comes from) where food and supplies were prepared and warehoused for resupplying ships passing through . It was the staging area for the Naval Blockade of America during the War of 1812 and was where the troops who attacked and burned the White House in 1814 departed from, the first of the only two times America was invaded by foreign troops (correct Frank….the Japanese hit the Aleutian Islands on June 6th, 1942 landing on Kiska Island).

Although used continuously from 1795 to 1995 it’s focus changed as on-board refrigeration and food preservatives became more common but the base was very busy during World War II as a radio relay station for convoys and stop overs for Naval Warships looking for U-Boats. The British military finally moved out of Bermuda in 1958 turning over most of the Crown’s property to the local government. Parts of the base were still occupied by elements of the Canadian Navy and US military until 1995.

Buildings in the Dockyard are typical of most dwellings in Bermuda where water is still a precious commodity. All have wide slightly pitched whitewashed roofs (limestone slate in the older homes) which, by law, must recover all run off to a central tank or cistern for purification and home use. There are some wells and they can be used for everything except drinking. The government does collect water as well and supplements the home collected water. Their entire water supply is completely dependent on the amount of rain they get. And….get this America…you’re only allowed one (that’s ONE) automobile per household. On an 26 square mile island with 65,000 people on it. It’s probably prudent.

Buildings ride out hurricanes and storms well in that most are constructed of the islands natural coral limestone which is quarried around the islands. Their inner wood construction for many early homes is the Bermuda Cedar tree. When early settlers came to Bermuda, it was covered with Bermuda Cedar. They harvested the wood for all types of construction from shipbuilding to furniture making and by 1627, they had practically deforested the islands causing the local government to restrict the use of the wood to shipbuilding. Luckily, by the 1850s, shipbuilding moved to iron and steel so the forests slowly recovered to where, although it is still scarce and expensive, the wood is still used in high-end interior woodwork and furnishings. Because of that, it’s very strong aroma in a home is often associated with wealth.

Before we got back to the ship (before our money ran out), we (I) got hungry and we stopped at the Dockyard Pastry Shop for lunch. Dianna had the Avocado sandwich and I had the Vegetable Panini. Both extra good with lots of fresh Avocado in Dianna’s sandwich. Dessert was a chocolate “Pyramid Tart” with two different chocolate mousse layers and a chocolate cake roof. Soooo good! Two thumbs up if you don’t mind the upscale cost (hey…everything in this burg is expensive) they all claim it’s the import costs of everything. It will definitely set you back some.


Sunday, August 23, 2015

Crazy Burrito, Sherman, Texas

I love Mexican food. I was fortunate enough to come from the land of great Mexican food...San Diego, California. Ok....I have been challenged by my Texan brethren (or Sistren, feminine of Brethren....who knew?) for this restaurant or that (someone vehemently proclaimed "On the Border" as genuine Mexican fare...sheesh!). But to no avail. The wife and I would dutifully and anxiously made our way there to be satisfied but ultimately disappointed.

Luckily, I have a co-worker, Ed (who is a retired San Diego Police Sergeant), who is not only a Mexican food aficionado....but an excellent judge of the state of Texas Mexican. Yeah...neither of us like it. Ed has a proven track record in that he too models all Mexican food restaurants after the famous "Las Quatro Milpas" (known but to a few as the "Green Fly") in Barrio Logan.  With that in mind....he did turn me on to a new place in Sherman, Texas that he said was the best Mexican food he had had since leaving San Diego.
Yes...that is Nick's Mid-Life Crisis car

It is rare to find good Mexican food in this part of the world. Yes...there is Tex-Mex and a plethora of wanna-be restaurants that claim to have great Mexican food but none can compare, as it turns out, to this little restaurant, the Crazy Burrito at  1834 Texoma Parkway at the corner of East Taylor and Texoma Parkway.

Ok...its really not a restaurant in that it only has a small outside eating area, no inside tables and chairs to lounge in sipping Horchata or soft drinks. And during a North Texas Summer....well you got to get there early before the sun gets too high. But what a menu. It's as though we were transported back to Old Town, Chula Vista or National City (all vestiges of staid Mom and Pop Mexican food walk-ups.

I met with Jesus, the store owner and once we identified ourselves as former residents of San Diego (yes...there was a secret handshake), his originally quiet demeanor instantly changed, his eyes brightened and he became louder and more animated as we spoke about his restaurant. Jesus had brought his family to Sherman in the hopes of operating a start-up restaurant and ultimately building a sit-down place where he could entertain his friends and patrons. His shop right now is small, nuzzled between an ice making machine (that turns out to be bi-lingual, dispensing ice in both Spanish and English) and a large Goodwill store.

We went with typical fare that would test the mightiest chain restaurant...I had the Carne Asada burrito and Dianna had the three rolled tacos (#23 and #8 if you need to know). Jesus said they had just whipped up some pineapple juice and we had two cold and refreshing cups to go with them. We were not disappointed...

The Burrito was quite large and was straining against a large quesadilla which was thick enough to have been handmade. It had thick and rich guacamole and plenty of fresh tomato and onions. Dianna's rolled tacos were crisply fried but not so they would shatter (major faux pas among rolled taco purists) and stuffed with lots of shredded beef and lodged in a snowbank of the Guac.

When given the option, I always lean toward hot sauce over the more mundane mild sauce one comes across. When he heard this, Jesus insisted I try his homemade hot sauce (the toxic looking orange sauce in the picture). I pinky tested the sauce (an industry standard) and was delighted by the taste (and the slowly expanding warmth in my tummy) so I applied a liberal splash onto the contents of the burrito and dutifully re-wrapped it. I bit into sheer heaven and could taste all the different elements, nothing was overwhelmed by the sauce.

An added bonus...and we've all had this experience...a bite into the burrito end did not result in Newton's 3rd law of motion (for every action, there is an equal but opposite reaction). There was no extraneous beef juice spilling out onto the plate. A perfectly grilled Carne Asada if there ever was. Dianna reported an equally rewarding experience with her rolled tacos. The brisket was well done but held its juices well and not deluding the crispness of the taco shell.

Sadly...there was this second while we ate, that we stopped, mid-chew, to hold onto that moment in time. Realizing we had found Mexican Nirvana but knowing we would have to rise, roll up our now empty wrappings and depart. We looked at each other at that instant and thought-wished we were back home again, enjoying this in the candle-lit flickering lights of Casa Guadalajara in Old Town State Park waiting for a second round of Margaritas. Two thumbs up Jesus! Thanks.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Fredericksburg, Texas

Our tour continued with a short trip to Fredericksburg Texas. County seat of Gillespie County, Fredericksburg is also the seat of all things German in Texas. As previously discussed, Germans came in droves to Texas in the early 1840's with a promise of fertile land, freedom from the heavy Prussian way of life and the general fleeing from the social, political and economic conditions which caused the Revolution of 1848.

Fredericksburg was founded in 1846 by Baron Otfried Hans von Meusebach, new Commissioner General of the "Society for the Protection of German Immigrants in Texas", also known as the "Noblemen's Society" and named after Prince Frederick of Prussia. Old-time German residents often referred to Fredericksburg as Fritztown, a nickname that is still used in some businesses. The town is also notable as the home of Texas German, a dialect spoken by the first generations of German settlers who initially refused to learn English.

To keep the peace, they brokered an 1847 Treaty between the Comanche and the German Immigration Company. The treaty was unique in that it did not take away the rights of the Penateka Comanche, but was an agreement that the Comanche and settlers would mutually share the land, co-existing in peace and friendship. It is one of the very few treaties with native American tribes that was never broken. Most of the native Germans despised slavery and the town was split between pro-Union and Confederacy residents during the Civil War (TWONA).

The Nimitz Hotel
The best thing that ever happened to Fredericksburg was when LBJ became President and all eyes focused on the Texas Whitehouse. The Nimitz Hotel served as headquarters for the media who intertwined their favorable impressions of the area with their reporting on the President. The Johnsons attended church in Fredericksburg. Dignitaries and were escorted around Fredericksburg by the President. West Germany Chancellor Ludwig Erhard visited Fredericksburg in 1963 and was greeted with "Herzlich Wilkommen". Throughout LBJ's vice presidency and presidency, Fredericksburg prospered from the tourism trade, and it changed from an isolated community into one catering to the tourist dollar. Additionally, the National Museum of the Pacific War has become a big draw to military history buffs like myself.

That's where we found ourselves on a wonderful breezy afternoon. After a long drive and awash in a sea of historical anecdotes, we needed sustenance and, utilizing a recommendation by our driver, saddled up to the bar at the Ausländer Biergarten on Main Street. I had Opa's Sausage sandwich and Dianna had the Sampler Plate with ample amounts of the sausage as well. Fredericksburg is also wine central for Texas wines and a cultural center for the famous Texas Hill Country. Due to our overwhelming rainy season this year, crops were booming as well as the greenery of this very scenic and gently rolling part of Texas.

So of course we (I should say Dianna with me in tow) wandered along the overflowing tourist crowds lining the sidewalks and entering shops of who-knows-what latest and greatest curio and crafty goings-on along Main Street.

There is an unwritten rule of grandparents that all new tourist and/or cultural stops requires the purchase of some brightly colored T-shirt which memorializes the location for the grandkid (who, of course, wasn't ever there). I want to assure all of you we (I should say Dianna) did not violate the code during this or any other stop we made. Fredericksburg was as delightful as the first time we went there and will be the focus of a future Bed and Breakfast mini-vacation in the future.

Our next stop was little Luckenbach, Texas. Fredericksburg has profited from spill-over tourism of nearby Luckenbach ever since a couple of events propelled the little town with a population of three to global fame.

Originally called South Grape Creek for a nearby waterway, the town was named for founding resident Jacob Luckenbach. In the 1830's, Jacob is known to have been among the Texans, including many Texas-Germans, who helped to win Texas’ independence from Mexico. after service in the Republic of Texas Army, he returned home and by 1845 had returned with his family back to Texas and settled in the Hill Country.



There is much controversy over who really established Luckenbach first another family named Engel or the Luckenbachs but we can surmise the town was established sometime in the 1850s by former Fredericksburg residents and a Post Office was established in the town along with a general merchandise store, blacksmith shop, cotton gin, saloon, warehouses and some homes. A dancehall (Tanz Halle) also located there was a center for social gatherings (a mainstay in German culture).


Sometime in the late 1800s, the post office closed. When it reopened in 1886, August Engel (there is some banjo playing in the background....there was a lot of intermarriage among the Engels and Luckenbachs by this time) served as postmaster and renamed the town Luckenbach. William Engel became the next postmaster and opened the general store, which remains today in its original building.


The dance hall was rebuilt by the early 1930s, and the new structure included a beautiful maple dance floor. Never achieving a population of more than 500, by the 1960s, it was almost a ghost town. The last vestige of the town, the original 1886 Post Office, closed in 1970.

A newspaper advertisement offering the little over nine acre town (it read "town — pop. 3 — for sale") led Hondo Crouch, a rancher and Texas folklorist, to buy Luckenbach for $30,000.



He began to utilize the land and dance hall as an open-air music venue. This drew many early Country singer-songwriters to play and the place took off. Especially after  Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson memorialized Luckenbach with the song "Luckenbach, Texas (Back to the Basics of Love)". It's now just three buildings (Dancehall, General Store/Saloon and an outdoor stage) but it still draws in the tourists.

Our last stop was a little wine tasting room and entertainment venue like many that dot old Texas Highway 290 (referred to as the Wine Road 290 Trail).  Few know that Texas is the 5th largest grape producing state in the nation and has given both France and California a run for their money winning several wine competitions here and across the pond and the Hill Country is ground zero for most of that wine production Four Point Wine Cellars is a tasting room dedicated to showcasing Brennan Vineyards, Lost Oak Winery, and McPherson Cellars wines.

Our tour all sat together and sampled several varietal wines which were comparable to many more expensive wines we've had in the past (I do not include myself with wine aficionados, I just knows what I likes). Returning (or stumbling) back to our tour limo, wine in hand, listening to the deep breathing of our now slumbering comrades, we made the long trek back to our hotel and blissful sleep.

Before checking-out, it began to rain buckets so we delayed our departure to imbibe in one of San Antonios best breakfast buffets. The Menger holds what can only be described as the freshest breakfast buffet I've had the honor of attending.

The way to serve Butter

Gorgeous fruit platters intermingled with the best meat and egg dishes, not those "under the heat lamp" variety but a constantly changing landscape of vittles by servers who never seem to cease their movement. It was worth the layover to take in. Full to the brim, we made our way to the Valet and once we discharged our luggage and trinkets into the suddenly insufficient trunk of the Rogue,we wended our way back to Frisco and home.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

LBJ Home and Ranch

For day two of our San Antonio trek I decided to do a tour with  Grayline Tours. It was a day long tour but would take us out of San Antonio to Fredricksburg with stops at Lyndon Johnson's boyhood home and ranch. We were in luck in that it turned out to be a small group of adults (no little ones....well there was a Canadian couple...but they were OK). It was a nice limo bus with good air conditioning and our driver was very well read. I entertained myself trading history notes with him as we drove around downtown picking up the other guests.

It was a long hours drive to Johnson City and Johnson's boyhood home. Lyndon Johnson's grandfather Sam Sr. and great-uncle established a cattle droving headquarters in the 1860s on land that is now part of Johnson City, Texas. The Johnson Settlement is part of the boyhood home park and has volunteers who act out roles as the townspeople in period garb (Debbie you need to come live here...Victorian Era!). Though Lyndon was born in the family home on what is now Johnson Ranch, Sam Jr. moved them to Johnson City when he was five and lived there until graduation in 1924.

Smoke House
The home was originally built by Blanco County Sheriff W.C. Russell in 1901 and the Johnson's purchased it in 1913. It had a shotgun hallway to cool the house in summer and a sleeping (screened in) porch for those hot summer nights. Johnson ran it as a cattle ranch but when times were bad, he switched to cotton or corn.

The Presidents mother, Rebekah Baines Johnson, was a very interesting woman who had a profound impact on Lyndon. Rebekah was one of the few educated women at the time having attended Baylor College. For a time she taught and was a reporter for several newspapers. That's how she met Sam Jr. She was doing a story on the young legislator and they fell in love. They married in 1907 and she became a ranchers wife. Problem was, Rebekah was very refined and had never done manual labor of the kind to run a working ranch and farm. She was overwhelmed and had to make do as Sam went off on business and sessions in Austin. Besides attending regular school. she continued to tutor her family as well as other children in the town.

Life in the Johnson home was tough. From the time he was two, Rebekah would teach Lyndon his ABCs and he was an accomplished reader by four. A typical night would have the children listening to the evening news on the radio in their family room. They were then told to write essays on what they heard and after the parents reviewed them for content, two children were chosen to debate each other on the subject in front of the fireplace. Ambivalent about his own studies, Lyndon made his way through school and became a teacher by attending the Southwest Texas State Teachers College at San Marcos (now Texas State University, San Marcos Go...Bobcats).

Johnson also learned from his father. From the time he was 10 years old, Sam would take young Lyndon to Austin to sit in on legislative sessions. He watched his dad and others make deals and move political agendas throughout the state. So you can see he was an accomplished debater and political insider long before he ran in 1937.

For a time he taught but politics called to him and after a stint in the Texas Legislature, he went to Washington to serve as an aide in Congress. He made fast friends and endeared himself to many important members of Congress including the great Sam Rayburn.
Johnson married Claudia Alta Taylor, (Lady Bird was a childhood nickname), of Karnack, Texas on November 17, 1934. On their first date, which was breakfast the next morning at the Driskill Hotel (been there...very cool restaurant) and a long drive in the country, Johnson proposed. Lady Bird did not want to rush into marriage, but Lyndon Johnson was persistent and did not want to wait. Lady Bird accepted his proposal 10 weeks later and were married at St. Mark's Episcopal Church in San Antonio, Texas.. They had two daughters, Lynda Bird, born in 1944, and Luci Baines, born in 1947. Ok.....weird factoid, Johnson had a practice of giving people and animals names with his and his wife's initials, as he did with his daughters and with his dog, Little Beagle Johnson.

We moved to the Ranch in Stonewall, Texas. This was his actual birthplace and a restoration of that home is on the property. Of note is the one room schoolhouse he attended in his youth. The Junction School was the backdrop for Johnson signing the Elementary and Secondary Education Act of 1965. Landmark legislation which brought needed funds for "educationally deprived" children. The money could be used for purposes such as reducing class size, hiring remedial teachers, and providing school breakfasts a part of over 60 education bills he passed in his term and a half, more than any other President before or after him. The Junction School was purchased, restored and moved in 1972 to the ranch entrance as part of the National Park. A classic example of a one room rural schoolhouse.


The ranch is based on the original family ranch house which was expanded over time. The Park Service restored and maintained the house to appear as it did in 1967. MAP. The original section of the home (far left section in photo below) was built out of the native limestone fieldstone by a German immigrant, William "Polecat" (I love that name) Meier in 1894. In 1909, the President's aunt and uncle, Frank and Clarence Martin, bought the house and added the main central portion of the home. The Johnson's bought the home from Lyndon's aunt in 1951.


The two story house has a very 60s feel to it right down to the three big picture tube Admiral color TVs in every room (remember....before cable...there were only three networks) and a multi line phone in each room the President used constantly. It had a huge kitchen his cook Mary Davis whipped up dinners for family and international guests alike. There were lots of stories of Johnson getting a world leader or Congressman out to the ranch and, now isolated from civilization, strong arming them to do his bidding.

LBJ was famous for his powers of persuasion, dispensing them with what became known as "the Johnson Treatment." He used his imposing physical size and intimidating personality to emphasize his point. He often towered over those he meant to intimidate using a "teacher's stance" he learned while teaching. Hands behind the back while leaning forward from the waist.


That was accomplished with a 6,300 foot runway Johnson used to fly himself, family and visitors in an out of the ranch. It couldn't handle Air Force One so Johnson would fly into San Antonio or Austin and transfer into his Lockheed Jetstar twin engine jet or in a helicopter. He referred to the jet as "Air Force 1/2". Locals said there were days when it seemed there was a continuous stream of aircraft flying in and out of the ranch at all hours.

Hangar/souvenir shop

Secret Service quarters
Still there are the outbuildings containing the headquarters of the Secret Service Detail, quarters for the military aircrew and the hangar which is now a museum and souvenir shop. It was fun to watch the kids handling the old rotary dial phones which told the listener about things that happened at the ranch. They didn't know to put their finger in the dialer and turned them like knobs. Held the receivers like luggage handles and pulled on the cords like accordions. I leaned in to one of the grandparents and asked if they were going to tell them what to do with them....she just smiled and whispered that, like me, it was just too much fun to watch so why interrupt the moment.

There were examples of Johnson's famous Lincoln Continentals. Every year, an Austin Lincoln-Mercury Dealer would deliver the first new four-door convertible Lincoln to the Johnson Ranch. It was always white with brown and white leather interior, AM-FM radio and two-way radio so he could always be in contact with ranch staff and the house. It was no secret that the Secret Service Detail hated when Johnson would roam the ranch in his cars, while drinking Cutty Sark Scotch and soda.

From the National Park Service website: "Periodically, Johnson would slow down and hold his left arm outside the car, shaking the cup and ice. A Secret Service agent would run up to the car, take the cup and go back to the station wagon. There another agent would refill it with ice, scotch, and soda as the first agent trotted behind the wagon. Then the first agent would run the refilled cup up to LBJ's outstretched and waiting hand, as the President's car moved slowly along."

He often forded the great Pedernales or some lesser stream to get to the other side. So much so they had a new earthen dam bridge built south of the original driveway to keep the cars dry as they crossed.


A walk around the house was a step back in history. The house was restored to the time at the height of his term as President (1967) and a walk around the grounds brings back a sense that you're still there. Johnson had many visitors and famous people during that time and is evidenced by a cool little memorial to all that visited. He had his workers pour small stepping stone size concrete pads where he had many of those visitors sign their names. It was a nice touch and a friend maker I'm sure. Astronauts to world leaders penned their names to the stones which will remain long after their gone.


As we departed for our time in Fredricksburg, I reflected on our tour of the Johnson homes and Ranch. We stopped by the family cemetery on the banks of the Pedernales. So much history occurred here with echoes of Vietnam and the assassination of a President which suddenly thrust an initially reluctant Vice President a grand stage to push his new agenda for America which we still feel today and the thing I ended up taking away from this visit was....looking around as we walked, although we all try very hard to leave our mark on the places and people around us (and I know I'm going to get emails about this), no matter what we do or how famous we get, are we really just a bed, a phone or a chair we once sat in?