My dad spent most of the Texas trip with his sister. I'm glad he got to spend a lot of time with her. It must have been so strange and wonderful for him to learn, eight or ten years ago, that he had a sister. And I can only imagine how difficult it is for him to know that he's going to lose her to cancer. I'm glad he got to spend a couple of days with her. My mother was going to stay with the two of them for a day as well, but she decided that her mild sore throat was too much of a sickness risk; instead she spent a couple of days with me as I pursued the strange things that I pursue on trips like this. I'm sorry she didn't get as much time with my aunt as she might have liked.
Dad's sister was in Kenosha once, some years back. I didn't talk to her or her family much. I was still in the early stages of becoming more social and was being shy. I got to talk her a bit more while I was in Texas and really enjoyed getting to know her a little bit better. She's enthusiastic about my interests and excitedly pointed me at things I might enjoy seeing in my wanders. She went with the group of us to a thrift store near her place and was excited by what we found. She liked hearing about the strange things I'd found and photographed, and about our experiences at the Water Garden. I only spent an hour or so with her, all told, but I'm glad to have done so.
As for my mother and I, we spent a couple of days following the handwritten lists I make for myself when I'm exploring, full of jotted notes from Roadside America. Usually I research theatres from Cinema Treasures too, but I didn't quite get to that. We started the first day, though, with something my mother was interested in; the Fort Worth Botanic Gardens. General admission was free, but we paid the extra fee to enter the jungle area, full of unusual plants in hot, humid greenhouse. I photographed a number of things, but I best remember the enormous Traveler's Tree that we posed next to for each other. I had to look up the reason for its name later on.
From there, we drove toward a storm drain cover painted to look like a pig. On the way, we were distracted by a giant iguana on a rooftop that we drove past. I'd known it was there in the Fort Worth zoo, but I hadn't realized it was visible from outside. I photographed that, plus the miniature railroad that we encountered while trying to find a place to park and photograph the piggy drain. Good times!
I was photographing the piggy drain from the opposite side of the Clear Fork of the Trinity River. I decided to cross the river and try to get up close. In the process of doing so, we ended up walking along the path of the aforementioned railroad, which crosses the Trinity on a couple of narrow bridges. That seemed really odd to me; they must have been full-size railroad bridges at some point that had been repurposed for the recreational railroad. Anyway, that line led us under some large highway overpasses and through what seemed to be a small homeless encampment among the large murals below the freeways. There was a small, man-made waterfall in the river (which warning signs indicated was part of, or near to, a water intake for the city), and a few areas that looked like small camps with bedding and personal possessions. One such campsite had a tupperware container full of kibble, so I assume a dog lives there with his person. All in all, it seemed like a decent place to live as a homeless person, if such a thing can be said to exist. I would find the continual rush of water soothing.
From there, we drove to Texas Christian University on whose campus is displayed the largest privately held collection of meteorites in the world. This was one of those stops where I wasn't expecting something of great interest and had my expectations tremendously exceeded. There were hundreds of meteorites on display, including some of amazing beauty. A meteorite that looked like a collection of fused pieces of topaz blew me away. There were a few pieces that visitors could touch, including a meteorite slice that originated on Mars. We got to touch a piece of Mars! I ran out to feed the parking meter so we could watch an interpretive video, and the two of us chatted for a bit with the woman who came in to clear the rooms housing the exhibit at closing time. Everyone we talked to in Texas in any official capacity was so very friendly!
That evening, the three of us went back to the Water Gardens and spent about three hours there. We watched the sun set over the area as people came and went. I'll write more about the Water Garden later on; I could spend days there I think.
The next day, I set off on my own for a day in Dallas. First was Lee Harvey Oswald's grave, alongside the Nick Beef grave marker that I gather caused some confusion when it was first installed. While out, I realized I'd forgotten the battery for my Canon. I thought about going back to the room for it, but decided I'd just use the Pentax. I stopped outside the Ripley's Believe it or Not next. I didn't go in, but I photographed huge dinosaurs made of welded chrome automobile bumpers and a massive gorilla made of gears and things. Then I got a note from my mother; her throat was sore and she wasn't sure about visiting my aunt. Was I close enough to come and get her? It was a good excuse to get my battery. I stopped to get some gas on the way and photographed a trailer full of horses parked on the other side of the pumps.
With my mother along, my next stop was the grave of Clyde Barrow; half of the famous outlaw duo Bonnie and Clyde. I love seeing how people relate to monuments to the dead. I'd read that people often leave liquor bottles and shotgun shells at Clyde's grave, but all that was there were coins laid across his stone. I was also surprised to see that the neighborhood around, while not affluent, was not as bad as descriptions led me to expect. That said, I've been through some pretty bad parts of Detroit, so my standards for 'dangerous neighborhood' are pretty high. The cemetery was quiet and disused. My mother and I had to slip between the two halves of the locked gate, which seemed appropriate for a visit to an outlaw. It was nerve-wracking getting the car back onto the busy road adjoining the entrance, too. The gate was at the top of a steep ramp projecting into the graveyard, just long enough and wide enough for a car. I had very little visibility backing out onto the street.
From there, we drove to the spot where J. D. Tippit was shot by a fleeing Lee Harvey Oswald. On the way, I pulled off to the side to photograph a huge unfinished arch, which I think was part of a bridge being built. The marker for Tippit was a little underwhelming, but it was on my path and was another interesting connection to historic change. Next was the Texas Theatre where Oswald hid for a while. I suppose all these Kennedy things are kind of unavoidable if one is seeking tourist oddities in Dallas. The theatre was in an interesting Hispanic part of town and was quite pretty. Ironically, it was showing something called "The Perfect Shot."
Next on the list was a McDonald's restaurant flamboyantly decorated, inside and out, with zoo animals, highlighting its proximity to the Dallas zoo. We got stuck in horrible, horrible traffic on the way there, and the restaurant itself was so jam-packed I decided not to get lunch there after all. I asked someone what was going on. She said "Dollar day at the zoo. It's not worth it!" Moving in from there toward downtown Dallas, we saw a giant bowler hat that had been intended for a building in the city, but I guess it didn't meet code or something so it's now on a tall pole in an open field on the outskirts.
Arriving downtown, my mother convinced me to pay for parking near the west end and the Sixth Floor museum. This was a very wise idea. My mother spent a couple hours in the museum, which is housed in the former book depository that JFK was "allegedly" shot from. I say allegedly because it is the phrasing used by a historical marker on the building itself. Passers by have helpfully underlined the word 'allegedly' on the marker so many times that there is a groove worn into the metal under the word.
I visited a thirty-foot-tall eyeball, a fantastic statue called Golden Boy that used to sit atop the AT&T headquarters in New York City (now it's in the lobby of the corporate headquarters in Dallas), the cenotaph dedicated to JFK, some pretty old buildings, fountains, and more random downtowny stuff. I came back to meet my mother, who'd learned that the penny squishing machines my dad wanted pennies from were in the gift shop and she hadn't had to pay for admission to the museum after all. Still, she enjoyed the exhibits and was not unhappy. Before leaving town, I showed her a few of the things I'd seen downtown, including a vegan cafeteria where she bought us lunch. I must have been walking for about three hours in the 95 degree heat. I'm glad I remembered one of my Chiapas tricks and tucked a bandanna under my hat to cover the back of my neck. That plus the light long-sleeved shirt and jeans kept me from dealing with too much direct sun exposure.
Then we went to the last thing on my downtown Dallas list; a sculptural installation of a cattle drive. This was another sight that vastly exceeded my expectations. A line of dozens and dozens of bronze larger than life cattle, each uniquely sculpted, wound around a low rise in the terrain and across a small creek, all being herded by three mounted cowboys. The opportunities for interesting photographic compositions were endless, and I wish I hadn't been quite so tired by that point. We spent a while walking around the installation, pointing out things like the brands on the cattle or interesting interactions happening between the animals. Finally, we visited a small pioneer graveyard directly adjoining the cattle, then headed for the car.
We saw a couple more things on the way back to hotel. The robot statues we saw at a Dallas Area Rapid Transit station were wonderful; some of my favorite public-transit related public art. We also visited the grave of Bonnie, of Bonnie and Clyde fame. The inscription on her gravestone was a completely unexpected sentiment, and reminded me, oddly enough, of what it means to have unconditional love.
Lastly, my mother wanted some Mexican food after seeing so many Hispanic restaurants, so we stopped into a likely-looking place. It wasn't quite what we'd expected; it turned out to be a Salvadoreño establishment. Menus and wall signs were in Spanish. Most of them, but not all, had English subtitles. I had gorditas con pollos and my mother had flautas con carne, I think. And we both tried some fried yuca. Sometime recently, someone (I can't remember who) told me that when you try a new food, you get to make a wish. I like that, and it's helped me to be slightly more adventurous. The yuca was good; not really novel, kind of like fried sweet potato maybe. But I'm glad I tried it.
And then we finally headed home to meet up with my dad. I'll write about the trip home another time.
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