It all started when I visited Hell’s Half Acre

I had a Texas History class in elementary school. The Alamo was undoubtedly the shining star of the curriculum, with local history tucked away as a mere footnote. I assumed that nothing “history-worthy” happened around here because we didn’t learn about it in school. Fast forward 30-something years. My journey with local history started unexpectedly in April 2020, when I stumbled into Hell’s Half Acre.

Somebody is always watching

I braved the Texas heat yesterday afternoon — it felt more like summer than fall — to track down some historical markers. I was driving in a residential neighborhood to get to the next one and passed a house with a teenager sitting on the front porch. He watched me, and I know he continued to do so as I parked a few houses down. I got out of my car, read the historical marker, and took a few photos — definitely feeling his eyes on me at this point.