Results for: “University of North Texas Press”
|Mark T. Smokov||University of North Texas Press|
The Law Closes In
reward poster issued by the Union Pacific Railroad and Pacific Express companies, dated January 12, 1900, and a Pinkerton National
Detective Agency poster dated February 23, 1900, stated there was
“satisfactory evidence” and it had been “definitely ascertained” that three of the robbers were Kid Curry, his brother Lonie, and their cousin
Bob Lee, with the $18,000 reward still in effect. By this time the Pinkertons were publicly vacillating on the issue of whether there were more than three involved. Their poster stated there may have been five or six men in the robbery.1
“In the files of the Union Pacific Railroad,” one writer states, “Harvey Logan was listed as the leader of the gang at Wilcox. What proof the UP officials had of this fact isn’t known, though it may have been because they considered him the most callous and dangerous of the Wild
Bunch.”2 Kid Curry’s leadership role should more likely be attributed to his possessing the intelligence to plan and carry out a successful train robbery.See All Chapters
|John R. Erickson||University of North Texas Press|
128 - -
Through Time and the Valley
less prairie blazing white in the afternoon sun. For hours we hardly spoke a word. Even if we'd had the energy to talk, which we didn't, our conversation would have returned to the heat, the sand, the cursed flies, the stillness and desolation that lay all around ussubjects which didn't need discussing. And so we bobbed along, trying to occupy ourselves with other thoughts.
Slumping in the saddle, I gazed off to the north where the prairie suddenly gave way to the caprock that rose two hundred feet into the air, forming sheer rock walls and deep canyons. That was Dave Wilson's country. With nothing better to do, I tried to remember all the tales I had heard about Dave Wilson.
Down on the river, when the conversation turns to roping, it either begins or ends with Dave Wilson, one of the best ropers the country ever produced. In his youth, Dave used to drive cattle from
New Mexico to the Wilson ranch north of the river, a distance of several hundred miles. To pass the long hours in the saddle, he would practice heeling, throwing one loop after another, hour after hour, day after day, until he could hit just about anything he threw at. In his hands a rope became more than a piece of line; it was a specialized tool with which he could perform a number of jobs. For some jobs he threw for the head, for others the horns, heels, or forefoot. He always rode a good roping horse, and the first thing he did when he mounted up was to make a big loop in his rope and lay it over the saddlehorn.See All Chapters
|Edited by Bruce A. Glasrud and Harold J. Weiss, Jr.||University of North Texas Press|
Hispanic Texas Rangers
Contribute to Peace On the
Texas Frontier, 1838 to 1880
David E. Screws
n the last decades of the twentieth century, historian Rodolfo
Acuna accused earlier writers of being apologists for the crude, and sometimes brutal, manners of the Texas Rangers during the days of the Texas frontier (Acuna 1981: 25). For most of the nineteenth century much of Texas was nothing more than a frontier, and the methods of enforcing peace and order on frontiers were often as violent as the crimes. Acuna also expressed the belief that all rangers were Anglos, “recruited gunslingers who burned with a hatred of Mexicans” who were sent to the border to “maintain a closed social structure that excluded Mexicans” (Acuna 1981: 27).
Montejano believed that a Frontier Battalion was established to represent “the armed force of the Anglo-Texas order” (Montejano
An examination of history reveals that many Hispanics served the Republic of Texas and the state of Texas as rangers. There is evidence as early as 1848 that they performed well and were highly respected by their Anglo counterparts. Several Anglo rangers, camped in Mexico in 1848 during the Mexican War, were discussing which race of people made the best ranger spies. One rangerSee All Chapters
|Mary Faulk Koock||University of North Texas Press||ePub|
The Broussards’ house in Beaumont stands empty and silent as the busy traffic of this thriving city in southeast Texas zips by. The blooming magnolia trees appear sad as they stand guard around it. Chessie Taylor lives in a comfortable house surrounded with big fig trees in the side yard. Chessie cooked for the Broussard family for fifty-five years, and of course this is her home.
Mr. and Mrs. Joe Broussard built this spacious home in 1909 for their family of eleven. Needless to say, it was brimming over with the activities of nine healthy children and is remembered as one of the happiest houses in this area. Papa Joe would beam broadly when his entire brood was around the big dining table. Even after the children married, this house was still the gathering place for all of them on special occasions such as birthdays, christenings, and Christmas, and the usual lively pace was even more lively with the hustle of twenty-six grandchildren and more than sixty great-grandchildren.
Joe Broussard was not only the patriarch of this fine family but a very strong force in the development and progress of the Beaumont area. When Joe was a young man, he tended cattle on his mother’s homeplace. He was also the home gardener, for he loved the soil and trusted it. He decided there were big things to be done in farming in that part of Texas. Lumber had been the mainstay in Beaumont in those days, but the pine and cypress trees had pretty well been cut out, and this land, bereft of its timber, was almost abandoned.See All Chapters
|Dan E. Burns||University of North Texas Press|
Expect a Miracle
In April of 1995, as Easter approached, I revived my diary. Many of my recollections from this period are based on diary entries.
April 2, 1995. Seven-year-old Ben in tow, I went to a Holy Week healing service with the Reverend Shelley Hamilton, a minister at my church. “Agnes Sanford says, ‘Expect a miracle,’” I reminded her.
“Where is the miracle?”
“The miracle must happen in you,” said Shelley, “and in Ben, and in everyone in your family.” She prayed for me, “God, we challenge you. How long will this man have to stand here at this altar in pain?”
With Easter Sunday just days ahead, I struggled with my faith and with my role in Ben’s recovery. Mom argued that Ben needed to be placed in an institution. “You’ve worked with Ben for a year now,” Mom said, “poured everything you had to give into him.
When others stumbled and fell, you kept going.” I agreed with most of her points: that Ben had not recovered; that he needed a consistent environment; that I could not meet all his needs by myself. Sue couldn’t do it either.See All Chapters