I often wonder how my life would have played out had I not stayed around Bandera after high school.
I’m pretty sure I was a prime example of a country bumpkin even after the education I had received. It took me a while to adjust to work in the big city because it didn’t involve the type of labor I was used to in our little corner of the world.
There were no livestock fences to build or hay to be hauled in the city. The service station work like pumping gas or fixing flats that I was familiar with became a thing of the past.
There was zero chance that I would be washing dishes and I considered that to be a big plus. I still had my shoeshine box from back in the day so my construction boots were kept in good shape.
Married at eighteen years of age to an older woman of nineteen years was probably a wise move on my part even though she was every bit as country as I was back then. I always said I didn’t marry for money although she had more money in the bank than I did when we got hitched.
As I recall she had about forty dollars in her account and I had quite a bit less. My old 58 Chevy was drinking that twenty cents a gallon gas like a drunken sailor on my daily commute to work.
As I was turning twenty and serving in the U.S. Army my Uncle Sam decided I needed some schooling to become a microwave radio repairman so they sent me to New Jersey.
Of course I took my bride with me much to the dismay of her father. I knew durn well I was going to need someone to buy the beer for me and by then she was twenty- one years of age.
Those people up north were sure to be more concerned about my age when buying alcohol than any of those watering holes along highway 16 between Bandera and San Antonio ever were.
Yankeeland was a bigger shock to us than the big city of San Antonio ever was as we managed to make several trips to New York City. It was a pleasant surprise when we spotted police officers mounted on horses in Greenwich Village among all the hippies and freak shows. It made us feel right at home in the Big Apple. Well,...kinda!
Soon after my duty in New Jersey was completed I became a world traveler as I was sent to Germany. My father-inlaw did a poor job of pretending he was not overly happy about my wife staying at home in Bandera. We were in the process of becoming parents so the decision was ours alone. We wanted our child to be born a Texan, not some foreigner.
By the time I returned to Bandera I could tell the country bumpkin image that I had carried so long was really starting to fade. I’m gonna tell you that I could feel it and I truly had some reservations about the change.
My country heritage was something I had come to embrace. People from places around the world would be talking to me and they would stop and say, “You’re from Texas, aren’t you?” It made me proud and it still does today.
I have countless memories of cherished experiences connected to my Growing Up In Bandera life. I truly believe they are spawned by that Texas Pride which we flaunt here in our town.
You can take the boy out of Bandera but I proved you can never take the Bandera out of me!
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