Leaving the Spanish Missions of San Antonio, we charted our coordinates for German country - Fredericksburg and points west of the "Alamo City". We had an invitation to stay with my Dave Ewing and his wife Teri, Dave was one of my housemates from our time at the University of Texas in Austin. Good Times.
Dave and Teri built a house on ranch land that belonged to her Great Grandfather, Herr Kusenberger, who settled the area with many other Germans in the 1840's. In the dark November night we pasted through Boerne (famous old dance hall) and Luckenbach (of Willie Nelson fame) and were looking for the Levi Kusneberger Ranch Road. I had looked it up on Google maps on my android phone, so I knew basically where it was, but I asked Sue to navigate with her iPhone. Not all GPS software is equal, so with the iPhone we overshot our turn off onto the Jung County Road and needed several passes and a recalibrated GPS effort to find the "signature agave plant" demarcating the gate to their house a quarter mile up the Kusenberger Ranch Road. We were expected at around 6, but we were warmly welcomed by Dave and Teri when we arrived at 7:30. Dave threw some bounteous steaks on the grill and after some refreshments from the bottle, we sat down to talk and eat.
Our hosts are semi-retired teachers in Fredericksburg, but both had work things to attend to on Friday, so we opted to meet them after 4 PM for wine in town and then go on to dinner at the Auslander German restaurant.
Teri spoke of spoke of President Lyndon Johnson, who retired to his Texas Ranch, just 5 miles up the road from where she grew up. LBJ would have some of the local ranch families come to his place and he'd show movies in the barn and serve popcorn, then later lamented that "I invite folks to my place, but I'll never get an invitation to visit there place." One day LBJ called Teri's father who served as County Commissioner, to ask a favor; leading off with, "I don't know you, but my foreman says you're an OK guy, so I figure since you're both pissin' in the same pot..." After the phone conversation with the former President, he told his wife, "That was President Johnson, and he thinks that Roy Klein and I are pissin' in the same pot. I'll be."
While Dave and Teri were in town at work, we had planned to go tour the Admiral Nimitz (Commanded American Naval Forces in the Pacific during WWII) museum and the adjoining Museum of the Pacific War. Adm. Nimitz grew up in Fredericksburg, and Teri says every old-timer has a "Nimitz story". A very well done and thorough set of exhibits covering the "island hopping" strategy and bloody fighting to drive the Japanese back to their own island.
This destination was of special import to me as my Grandfather, Warren D. Wilkin, commanded a submarine wolf pack known as "Wilkin's Wildcats" aboard the USS Tilefish, under Nimitz during the war.
Inside the Museum, Sue and I were separated, and she sat down to view the video portion of one of the exhibits, and another woman sat down beside her and launch a battleship broadside of her opinions to Sue. It went something like this: Testosterone! Testosterone!! TESTOSTERONE!!! Nothing in this damn museum but men killing men, killing men! Sue acknowledged her opinion, as she went on in this vein sounding somewhat like the vocabulary from one of the sailors featured in the exhibits. The woman's husband then rounded the corner, and she began again with her rant. Sue subtly slipped away, as she heard the husband say, "I'll not be having any of that! Oh, just off with ya." This story was related to the group later in the evening enjoying some wine, and many of the ladies there agreed, there are plenty of cutesy shops along Main Street, she would have been better served to wander there among the antiques, rather than the torpedoes, armaments, mini-subs and reconstructed bombers.
Before leaving town, I made sure we stopped back in to look at the gift shop, where I flipped through there selection of books on submarine warfare against the Japanese. I found one thick, paperback book, Silent Victory, that made mention of my grandfather on page 679. So of course I purchased the book - as a birthday present for me.
After beers all-around, sour kraut and some schnitzel, we returned to the ranch house. On Saturday morning, Teri prepared delicious Nutella-banana crepes as we shared current happenings and old stories around the table, until late in the morning, and then it was time to pack up and return home.
Dave and Teri built a house on ranch land that belonged to her Great Grandfather, Herr Kusenberger, who settled the area with many other Germans in the 1840's. In the dark November night we pasted through Boerne (famous old dance hall) and Luckenbach (of Willie Nelson fame) and were looking for the Levi Kusneberger Ranch Road. I had looked it up on Google maps on my android phone, so I knew basically where it was, but I asked Sue to navigate with her iPhone. Not all GPS software is equal, so with the iPhone we overshot our turn off onto the Jung County Road and needed several passes and a recalibrated GPS effort to find the "signature agave plant" demarcating the gate to their house a quarter mile up the Kusenberger Ranch Road. We were expected at around 6, but we were warmly welcomed by Dave and Teri when we arrived at 7:30. Dave threw some bounteous steaks on the grill and after some refreshments from the bottle, we sat down to talk and eat.
Cedar gate to the Ewing Home Ksenberger Ranch Outside of Fredericksburg, Texas |
Teri spoke of spoke of President Lyndon Johnson, who retired to his Texas Ranch, just 5 miles up the road from where she grew up. LBJ would have some of the local ranch families come to his place and he'd show movies in the barn and serve popcorn, then later lamented that "I invite folks to my place, but I'll never get an invitation to visit there place." One day LBJ called Teri's father who served as County Commissioner, to ask a favor; leading off with, "I don't know you, but my foreman says you're an OK guy, so I figure since you're both pissin' in the same pot..." After the phone conversation with the former President, he told his wife, "That was President Johnson, and he thinks that Roy Klein and I are pissin' in the same pot. I'll be."
Sue, Teri & Dave (Foreground, L to R) Joined by some of the Ewing's Friends for a glass before dinner |
This destination was of special import to me as my Grandfather, Warren D. Wilkin, commanded a submarine wolf pack known as "Wilkin's Wildcats" aboard the USS Tilefish, under Nimitz during the war.
A Salute to Admiral Nimitz My Grandfather served on Nimitz staff after the war. |
Entrance to the Museum of the Pacific War |
Inside the Museum, Sue and I were separated, and she sat down to view the video portion of one of the exhibits, and another woman sat down beside her and launch a battleship broadside of her opinions to Sue. It went something like this: Testosterone! Testosterone!! TESTOSTERONE!!! Nothing in this damn museum but men killing men, killing men! Sue acknowledged her opinion, as she went on in this vein sounding somewhat like the vocabulary from one of the sailors featured in the exhibits. The woman's husband then rounded the corner, and she began again with her rant. Sue subtly slipped away, as she heard the husband say, "I'll not be having any of that! Oh, just off with ya." This story was related to the group later in the evening enjoying some wine, and many of the ladies there agreed, there are plenty of cutesy shops along Main Street, she would have been better served to wander there among the antiques, rather than the torpedoes, armaments, mini-subs and reconstructed bombers.
Before leaving town, I made sure we stopped back in to look at the gift shop, where I flipped through there selection of books on submarine warfare against the Japanese. I found one thick, paperback book, Silent Victory, that made mention of my grandfather on page 679. So of course I purchased the book - as a birthday present for me.
After beers all-around, sour kraut and some schnitzel, we returned to the ranch house. On Saturday morning, Teri prepared delicious Nutella-banana crepes as we shared current happenings and old stories around the table, until late in the morning, and then it was time to pack up and return home.
Teri serving crepes for breakfast |
Our Hosts, Dave and Teri |
American Gothic Kusenberger Ranch |