Dad's rock returns to Texas
This leg of the trip is actually an add-on; I realize that most people don't amend a destination in another state as they head off for a week's vacay, but then we aren't most people. Long before we were in the throes of mourning our son's death or even thinking that his life was in danger, we were totally invested in Sara's idea to "meet in the middle" (more their middle than ours, really) for a week of vacationing together in Arkansas.
Tragedy in the meantime made it seem all the more important to keep the appointment. That's where the extra leg came in: April of 2020 found us with a plan to deliver Dad's rock to the Texas Ranger Museum in Waco, Texas. The staff there were anxious to receive it right up until they closed 'er down due to covid-19.
June not being the optimum time for our greatly anticipated Texas tour (it's hot and humid enough out there to melt the flesh right off your bones!), we decided to tack on Texas briefly on the way to Arkansas. I know that many know the story of Dad's rock, but clearly I must give it a recitation here for those who are scratching their heads and thinking "What in tarnation is she on about".
Rather than retelling the story, I will insert here exactly what I wrote for the museum.
"How a rock inscribed by Texas Rangers in a mountain cave traveled to Arizona and back to Texas after 140 years
My siblings and I grew up in Arizona hearing the story of the rock my father and his brother found in a mountain cave on their grandmother’s Texas ranch in the 1920s. Little did we know that the fabled rock with Spanish writing on it, as Dad called it, would one day end up in Arizona with us.
My father, Ira Kelley, born in 1914, was perhaps ten years old and his brother Lewis two years younger when they climbed a mountain on their Grandmother Caroline Gelmilgia (Fergerson) Taylor’s ranch and found a cave to explore. Within it, they were amazed to find a rock that had inscriptions on it.
The rock was too exciting to leave behind and too heavy for the lads to carry, so they rolled it down the hill and kept it at Caroline’s house.
Then came the day in 1930 when the family pulled up stakes to leave Texas for a new start in the Arizona desert. My grandparents, Zack & Pearl (Taylor) Kelley drove to Pearl’s mother’s house to bid farewell. While there, Ira & Lewis loaded their treasured rock into the car unbeknownst to their parents.
Another stop before departure: the family visited at the Woods Ranch to say goodbye to Pearl’s sister, Lebbie Wood and her family. That was when Zack discovered the rock in the car and declared that they were not taking it all the way to Arizona, and he offloaded it in the Woods’ car shed.
Fast forward to our first journey to Texas in 1988. Of course we took Dad along. At age 74, he was anxious to see old haunts and to visit kin. One of our stops was to see cousin Harley Wood, still living on his family ranch.
The “boys” had a great time reminiscing and swapping tales, which brought Ira to share the memory of the rock that he had had to leave behind so many years before. That perked cousin Harley’s ears right up; he excused himself and went outside. When he returned carting the rock, none of us could believe our eyes!
At Ira’s mention of it, Harley’s memory had been alerted. That rock had lain in the Woods’ car shed for more years than the span between its being inscribed in the cave and Ira & Lewis discovering it!
Of course we brought it back with us to our central Arizona mountains where it was the subject of conversation for the next 30 years. We discerned as best we could the inscriptions and sorted out the names scratched into it - N. L. Telotte, A. B. Cox, P. S. Coy & Gonzales, along with “Rock Springs Tex”, “May 9, 1878” and “Co F, Front. Batt”. That made us realize it was related to Texas Rangers, but our research turned up nothing about those men.
Finally, we were encouraged to contact the Texas Rangers to see if they could tell us anything. What a surprise when we were informed that the men who sheltered in that cave on my Great Grandmother Taylor’s ranch were indeed Texas Rangers!
Those Rangers were on the ranch at just about the same time that Great Grandfather George Washington Taylor and Caroline were settling there on the Pulliam Prong of the Nueces River, north of Barksdale in Edwards County.
It seems so right that Dad’s rock should return to Texas, leaving to our imaginations just what was transpiring during those dangerous pioneering times when those Texas Rangers were on my great grandparents’ ranch."
And that is that. Feel free to ask if you desire more details, but I think that just about covers it. I renewed correspondence with the museum's staff, who were as anxious as ever to add the rather unique artifact to their holdings. The facility is beautifully curated and very informative; however, an artifact that is not a badge, firearm, saddle, uniform or capture story is a bit out of the ordinary. Really, when I think about the stories I know from my family's time on the Texas frontier and their constant hardships and fears, and I expand that to think about those intrepid Rangers who worked to make it a safe place to live and what was their experience as they sheltered in the cave on George & Caroline's ranch, I would so love to travel back in time to witness the circumstance of that day and the rough ones surrounding it.
Our first sight at our long-awaited arrival at the Texas Ranger Museum:
Hahaha! I love this pic of Chris holding the rock for our photo op. As you will easily discern, the rock is not light. Chris is valiantly hefting the chunk of limestone; Shelly's got her hand on it to symbolically receive it and I'm flat happy we've finally completed an appropriate disposition of that interesting artifact, although my insides are screaming to snatch it back.
Here's a close-up of one of the 1878 inscriptions.
"Our" Rangers were part of Company F of the Frontier Battalion; it was fun to see the current headquarters of Company F.
With our raison d'etre for being in Waco complete, webturned our attention to how to fill the remaining hours of our stay. Fortified by a nice lunch on a deck over the out-of-its-banks Brazos, we opted to visit the Waco Mammoth National Monument. A fluke 1978 find in a creek bed by arrowhead hunters resulted in discovery of the largest known concentration of Columbian mammoths dying from a (possibly) reoccuring event, likely a flash flood.
Involvement by the City of Waco and Baylor University resulted in the designation as a national monument. We found the site to be interesting, but the educational/interpretive aspect was disappointing.
My favorite part was the walk out to the location through steamy sun-filtering woods.
Evidently, at least 19 mammoths plus other animals were trapped by a natural event and died there approximately 68,000 years ago and subsequently covered by accumulations of silts and debris. This photo reveals the entire skeleton, skull and tusks of a male mastadon.
We were right near Baylor University, so of course took a wander through to enjoy the beautifully landscaped campus and impressive buildings. Baylor has somewhere in the neighborhood of 15,000 students, and plays an integral role in Waco's affairs.
Still on the Baylor campus, we boarded a boat to embark on an evening tour on the Brazos and Bosque rivers. Waco Tours welcomed us aboard; Captain Tim and first mate Bobby entertained and educated us for the next couple of very pleasant hours on the water. We had hesitated whether to sign on for the tour, but were extremely happy that we did.
I love being on the water, and we really couldn't have asked for a more perfect experience (except that it was difficult to get photos of the stunning scenes along the way).
We were surprised to hear about and be at the place of the Chisholm Trail's low water crossing of the Brazos. Of course the river has been dammed and the water backed up as a result, so the crossing itself is not visible (and certainly we wouldn't be floating over it), but it was great to imagine my great grandfather, George Washington Taylor, crossing there when he rode with a herd on that trail in 1867 with his brother. There is a warm spring nearby on the bank of the river; certainly the cowboys would have visited that.
A few years after great grandfather's traverse - 1870 - a suspension bridge was constructed to make the crossing less dangerous. That historic bridge is still in place; we had hoped to see it, but it is draped in tarps while undergoing restoration.
Far up the Bosque where it narrowed to an inviting kayak fishing stream, we dropped anchor and heard about the Texas origins of Bluebell ice cream and Dr. Pepper soda pop. In the ultimate show-and-tell, our crew treated us to ice cream floats utilizing those refreshing ingredients.
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