Growing Up in Bandera
Editor’s Note: While Mr. Clark takes a well-deserved writing break, please enjoy this flashback edition of Growing Up in Bandera. Want more of this column? Get it in book form! Call 830-796-3718 for more information!
RIf you are from around here there is no need to have further explanation when hearing certain things being talked about. The Spur. The Dollar. The Loop. Arkeys. The swing. The Icehouse. It’s kinda like if you say something about a road apple. People around here know exactly what you are talking about. Most of our newbies to the area pick up the lingo pretty quick. Some never do. You know the ones I mean. You speak to them when you pass and they give you a look like I used to get when Uncle Sam had me stationed in New Jersey. They should spend a little time at the O.S.T. to get better acclimated.
I do a lot of walking around town in the mornings and it is a real pleasure when I speak to obvious tourists and I get a smile and enthusiastic return greetings. Most folks are just dying to be friendly.
As I visit with older friends and relatives about my stories of Growing Up In Bandera I am amazed at the number of things I write which they don’t recall. I guess they thought it was a small thing on their part at the time but it made an significant impact on me and is a memory I cherish. Seems we could all learn a lesson from that in our daily lives. The kids are listening and learning so we need to do the right thing. I recall lots of things about the days when friends or relatives would come visiting. If they stayed at our house we had kids laid out everywhere on pallets on the floor. Sometimes they would camp along the river or at the lake and that gave me an opportunity to join them. We had some relatives visiting from California one time and they were camping at Center Point on the Guadalupe River. My uncles set lines out to catch catfish and they ran the lines throughout the night. The next morning they had little to show for their efforts. That same morning my cousin Gary and I caught a big catfish with a rod and reel. Must be something in my blood I guess.
When the fall season rolls around here in the hills around Bandera it signals a beginning of another hunting season. When I was Growing Up In Bandera it was almost like a religious ceremony. Schools closed, local motels filled to capacity and our main street looked like downtown San Antonio during rush hour. During the early archery seasons you might detect the odor of skunk urine while patronizing some local businesses. No need to panic, it was just part of the ritual. Make no mistake about it, hunting season is a big part of our economy now just like it was back in the day.