Texas Deb Goes to Jacksboro...Again
I spent the first few years of my life under the shadow of tall, majestic pine trees in East Texas. I fell in love with the red clay dirt and the rolling hills; the wandering creeks and the way the woods buffeted the wind. The forest seemed a place for magic, so alive with the chirping and singing of creatures remarkably familiar and comfortable with lush, green surroundings.
It has been my goal for some time, or a hope, to possibly move back there. It was for a long time my favorite part of Texas. My soul would be at peace simply living amongst the trees and hidden farms, ranches, and small towns down State Hwy 80.
Therefore, I’m actually surprised to tell you this next part.
When we moved to North Texas when I was in fifth grade it was close, but not the Texas I had dreamed of moving back to after a few years hopping from one place to another as my parents moved us around. There were trees, yes, but the red clay dirt and the forest were harder to come by in the suburbs and the city we roamed.
When I met my husband, I learned he had family, and family land out west of the metroplex and on occasion we’d have a chance to head out to Jacksboro. He often hunted deer, hog, and turkey out there until the land changed out of the hands of a relative. He, and then we after we met, also always a place to go target shoot.
After the first trip the place began to grow on me.
Initially I thought it ugly, harsh, scrabbly land with nothing to look at. Over the years I have grown to love it and respect it’s character and beauty.
One of our favorite places to go is Fort Richardson State Park in Jacksboro. At first site, you might just see the prairie grass jutting out of the rocky ground, the cacti sprouting higher than the grass and the oaks, cottonwoods and mesquite that seem to tower over and shade the former as they stretch their arching limbs enshrouding them.
I’ve grown to love it because I am amazed at the white-tailed deer, how they are made to appear to the casual eye simply a part of the landscape that’s dappled with golds, olive greens and brushy greys. It’s the same for the coyotes. Even the Armadillos. Right down to the cottonmouths the area’s creatures were made by our Creator to gracefully dance with the landscape instead of contrast against it.
Though they seem dull colors at first, they make the prickly pear blooms and the eager, resilient, and occasional bluebonnet shout at you in brilliant contrasting colors. The dry grass that rolls like waves in the fall and winter, a golden-grey current following the jagged rocks and the curves of the yucca, makes the glorious blue sky even bluer, streaked with bold lines of clouds shaped by the winds.
I guess I feel the personal symbolism here, too. I love the mountains and mesas of New Mexico. I lived there for a short time and it’s where I visited family often growing up. I also love the lush forests of East Texas. Jacksboro and the surrounding area until you hit the prairie marries those two loves and adds its own display of wind, rock, and wildlife.
Fort Richardson State Park is the perfect place to admire this area and to also learn about its history.
It is beautiful land but the human life here was fought for with lives and livelihoods. Texans are Texans because we have a brutal and also beautiful history. American Indians, Settlers from the East as well as other countries, all tried to carve out a life in this land. We often romanticize that but “difficult” does not seem an adequate word to describe what it must have been like to fight for your little piece of home here.
It’s a peaceful place now, and I was able to enjoy this week the gentle wind on my face and sitting by the fire. My husband and I were able to enjoy the view, the history and each other during a very busy time in our lives. Between his work schedule, my knee surgery football season, Trail Life, American Heritage Girls, Church (and missing Church!) and all the other billions of things that are involved in running a family, we were exhausted and quite frankly, a little grumpy.
We spent two nights in our little bunkhouse camper, that we love. We walked the Fort in the evening because we knew we were sure to see loads of deer. We went to the range, and I got to shoot my pistol and rifle for the first time in over a year. We got to laugh at each other’s jokes (mostly… all his jokes, he’s funnier than me) and just take a breath. Over those days I could feel my shoulder’s relaxing, the tightness in my chest dissolve. I was able to focus and realize that the trivial things that I worry about, that consume me, were really truly little things. I was able to refocus on the big picture.
I encourage everyone to do this. Make the time. Ours was long overdue.
Our little trip also reopened my eyes to something that I’ve been concerned about for some time.
In the area where I live, just over an hour away, mostly rural with pockets of little developments like mine, our history is being forgotten. The suburban sprawl is headed to a beautiful open field near you and me whether we like it or not.
I get concerned that one day, all the little Texas towns will be swallowed up by the developers. We’ll have the same Super Target, Ross, Chipotle and In and Out that the town 5 miles down the road has. We’ll have the same houses that all look alike, families trying to make a home in a decent neighborhood. Homogenous.
Will anyone remember whose ranch land was sold to make way for their home? What their brand was?
Will anyone remember the businesses that lined a short Main Street and the people who worked hard to put them there?
Will anyone remember what battles were fought, what they were about and who won?
I live in Wise County. Will anyone remember that Wise County had the most kidnappings and ransoms of settlers by American Indians than any other Texas County? I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t taken the time to learn about the area we live in and its heritage.
It’s important to not only press the pause button on your busy, crazy family life these days. We are all so busy being busy.
It’s important to breathe in the landscape and the ecosystem right in front of you that God made because it’s important to remember and revere our Creator.
It’s important to learn about and understand your heritage and your history. Otherwise, you know and experience nothing except what is laid out conveniently before you as a consumer.
That’s not what I want.
Not in East Texas, not in Jacksboro and not even at home in Rhome. Now, I’m sort of on a mission to learn and to share.
I urge you to step away. Step away from the ordinary drumming beat of our society right now. Listen to wind blowing over the fields and feel it on your face as you look up at the stars without the interference of the local light pollution. Know where you come from and know that is culture. That is heritage. You can own it and pass it down or it can run through your fingers like sand, the people, places, and ways of life forgotten.
Slowing down and taking a breath has two-fold benefits. If you have a chaotic life right now, you might need to step back and rest in order to manage that chaos a little better. If you’re me maybe, you’ll yell at the kids less. Maybe you’ll be more grateful for the season you’re in and less overwhelmed by laundry. Maybe. I’m not sure about the laundry part. On the other hand, regarding the land in which we live and the story it tells I can only quote Ferris Bueller and say, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
