I think this was in 1955. I'm in the middle, aged 7. My older brother is to my left, and my maternal grandmother is to my right. My mom was the photographer, and the big doors in the background are the entrance to the Alamo. Yep, we're in San Antonio.
But we're on the move. My father had taken over as commander of the Naval Reserve Center in Hutchinson, Kansas, but he had not yet secured suitable housing for our family. Because of that, I started the second grade living with my grandparents in Grand Cane, Louisiana. I wrote a little about this adventure in my first {this memory} 1.
After a couple of months, we were ready to complete the move to Kansas. We headed south first, though, so my mom and grandmother could visit Victoria, Texas, where they had lived for a spell while my grandfather preached there. From there we went on to San Antonio and the Alamo which is the only part of this trek that I actually remember. Then the road went to Dallas, continued north through Oklahoma, and brought us into Kansas where we lived for three years before moving back to Virginia.
I've been back to the Alamo at least twice as an adult, but neither time was I as impressed as I was this first time. I hope you get the chance sometime to visit this shrine to Texas liberty. It's inspiring.
I am a fortunate man. Life's been good to me so far.
TGB
