Editor’s note: This is another installment of “Parking with Brigid,” a series of columns about Tom Linton’s travels to the state parks of Texas with his dog, Brigid.
We arrived at the park “after hours” and thanks to an old friend (and present day park employee) answering her phone, we gained admittance. All of the individual spaces were occupied so we went to the group camping area at the back of the park.
There were a few campers there but their lights were out so I tried to minimize raking them with my headlights as I jockeyed my camper into position for making the utilities hookup. I did, however, flash the side of one motor home directly across the way from me.
As my lights illuminated the front of the structure, I let them pause there briefly, because there, a little after midnight, was a dog sitting by the steps at the entrance to the motor home. It was a black and white longhaired German shepherd looking animal, just sitting there stock still with its tail curled around its rear, supporting itself on its front legs and staring straight at me!
After getting the camper into position I did not tarry long outside. I just shut off the engine, jumped into the camper and bedded down for the night.
The next morning, that dog was still sitting at the door of the motor home across the lot. There was also a person outside looking into a panel on the side of the motor home. I walked over to inquire about his “always on station” watchdog.
When I got a little closer (and put on my glasses) I saw that it was a statue of a dog — but like the mission, a darn good replication. So I told the dog’s “master” that I had mistaken his dog for a very dutiful watchdog.
He said many make that mistake. “It helps keep burglars away,” he said.
He said this was Rufus, their “seldom” dog. They had been living in their motor home for the past 13 years and when their real dog died, they got Rufus the Seldom Dog — “He seldom needs walking and he seldom needs feeding.”
Brigid was with me and she gave me a knowing look (I think). Regardless, she was extremely well behaved the rest of the trip.
The primary purpose of our trip to Goliad was to explore the park.
We found a very well-maintained nature trail that ran along the high bluffs of the San Antonio River and down into the ravines that provide drainage avenues into the river. The San Antonio is typical of the Hill Country rivers in that it is prone to leave its banks when heavy rains occur in its watershed, thus producing broad floodplains. These are very sandy areas and this has made them very good “beachlike” sites for tent camping — two sites for this purpose have been created on the river downstream from the park headquarters. The camping areas in the park are well-kept and inviting, but “awesome,” the word so frequently used these days, springs to mind when you see the meticulously restored Mission Nuestra Senora del Espiritu Santo de Zuniga.
In 1931, the site for Goliad State Park was transferred to the state, with the agreement that it would be preserved as a historical park. The driving force that would not be dissuaded until the park was on its way to becoming a reality was Judge J.A. White of Goliad. For his “never say die” effort, he deservedly is known as the “Father of the Goliad State Park.”
White explored a variety of ways to accomplish his dream of creating the park before finding the one that “made it happen” — that one was the Civilian Conservation Corps.
CCC enlistees signed on for six-month tours. U.S. Army personnel were the supervisors in the CCC camps. The enlistees received $30 a month but of that, $25 was sent home to their families.
By the end of 1935, there were more than 2,650 CCC camps in operation in all states; 175 of them were in Texas.
Although relief of unemployed youth had been the original objective of the Emergency Conservation Work Act, two important modifications were made in 1933. The first extended enlistment coverage to American Indians. The second authorized enrollment of older local men, because of their experience or special skills. It was needed to train the unskilled recruits.
In addition, The Bonus Army descended on Washington in May 1933, for the second time. This caused an additional modification to the program, and by executive order of the president, the immediate enrollment into the program of veterans of the Spanish-American War and World War I was authorized.
Veterans of the Spanish-American War and World War I helped to reconstruct Mission Espiritu Santo. This was the primary accomplishment of Veteran Company 3822.
It began in the mid-1930s and continued until June 1941. Its meticulously restoration was based on data obtained from old records of the Catholic Church. Fortunately for the authenticity in the restoration of the mission, records such as these and other sources of information relating to the architecture of the early Spanish missions were the avocation of the project supervisor of the Mission Espiritu Santo restoration.
S.C.P. Vosper, who had been a professor of architecture at Texas A&M, was the project superintendent. The actual work was done primarily under the supervision of one of Vosper’s students from A&M, Raiford Stripling. This experience introduced Stripling to his lifelong career in which he became one of the leading preservation architects in Texas. Ashton Villa in Galveston is but one example of his restorative handiworks.
The displays in the mission seemed to me to capture what life must have been like back then. In those days the prairies around the mission supported vast herds of livestock, especially cattle (some of which were destined to follow the Opelousas Trail to become food for the troops of Galvez).
The mission was relocated to this site because it was more strategically located for its multipurpose function as a religious and military installation. Its holdings included one million acres of land and vast livestock holdings. Soldiers were garrisoned there to protect the cross roads between the coast and the Old Spanish Trial to the east.
This was at best a very isolated, lonely duty station, which was a long way from home. After learning of the veterans who were the major workers on the restoration of the mission, I wondered did any of those who had also had isolated, lonely duty station assignments ever, when an artifact of military origin was uncovered from those bygone days, stop for just a moment and experience a “connection” through time with a “comrade in arms?” “How was your homecoming?”
Tom Linton is president of the Friends of Galveston Island State Park.
