Joining me today is Carrie, one of my besties and serial co-workers (seriously, I jokingly called her my personal recruiter for years… we worked together at 4 different companies over the last 14 years).  We had planned to get together to discuss how to create reels for her new real estate career.  SHAMELESS PLUG:  Go check out her Facebook page, and if you’re in the market for real estate, DEFINITELY check out her website and give her a call.  Seriously, she’s the absolute best!!  

But the day before we were scheduled to do this, one of my childhood besties from Sugar Land, Melissa, called me and asked if I was busy.  She and her sister, Laura were dying to get out and about and do something different.  I told her what Carrie and I had planned, and they were all in.  So the four of us went off to explore Goliad.  

Goliad is a small town – the census in 2020 recorded the population as 1,620 – with a big impact on Texas history.  Like many small towns here, the courthouse square is graced with a large historical courthouse – this one was built in 1894 of Limestone, brought by ox cart to Goliad from Austin.  Many of the buildings surrounding the courthouse square are marked with similar years.  

<iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fparttimegypsysouls%2Fposts%2Fpfbid02JzUs4149yifssDmH3cFog24XY292BX8d1DX2eemC1ay9VTCcPbZjn6xr6UAF33s3l&show_text=true&width=500" width="500" height="626" style="border:none;overflow:hidden" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="true" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; picture-in-picture; web-share"></iframe>

What is unusual here is a large, very old oak tree in the north portion of the courthouse lawn.  A sign in front of it marks it as the “Site for court sessions at various times from 1846 to 1870.  Capital sentences called for by the courts were carried out immediately, by means of a rope and a convenient limb.  Hangings not called for by regular courts occurred here during the 1857 “Cart War” – a series of attacks made by Texas Freighters against Mexican drivers along the Indianola-Goliad-San Antonio Road.  Above 70 men were killed, some of them on this tree before the war was halted by Texas Rangers.”

Another marker reads, “Santa Anna’s Surrender Ratified.  Gen. Vicente Filasola, second in command of Mexican Armies in Texas War for Independence fled from area of his nations defeat at San Jacinto, April 21, 1836.  Filasola’s aim was to go back to Mexico with his army.  After he had passed through Goliad, he was overtaken at Mujerero Creek (12 mi. SW) by Texan Army couriers, Col. Bent Form Smith and Capt. Henry Teal.  Signing the ratification of peace at Mujerero, May 26, 1836, were Gen. Filasola, Gen. Eugene Tolsa, Col. Augustine Amat, Col. Smith, and Capt. Teal.”

Also on the north lawn is a memorial to the Goliad men who lost their lives in World War II.  The transcription of the stone reads, “Because these sons of Goliad County, Texas gave their lives in World War II that freedom might live, the citizens erected this memorial and dedicated it to their undying hopes and everlasting memories”.  The names and ranks of those lost are inscribed on stones on each side of the memorial stone.  

We window shopped and actually shopped in a couple of stores before heading to our next stop – Presidio la Bahia.  

Deep in the woods of Desoto Parish, Louisiana, Rock Chapel is a short drive from Mansfield, but the 10 minutes it takes to drive there transports us back 100 years.  

Melissa and I arrived at the small church out front, and saw the archway that introduced us to the driveway to Rock Chapel.  Once I pass through the gate that will be shut at night, I let out a sigh and a giggle.  We are in the middle of nowhere, driving slowly down a one car road in the middle of trees.  I slow as we notice something nailed to one of the pine trees.  I laugh softly, uncomfortably, and ask Melissa what she thinks of that.  

Her response reflects mine – a soft uncomfortable chuckle, “I don’t know what to think about that.” 

I continue to drive through the trees, marking a few others.  Are they numbers?  What could they mean?

Finally, we arrive at a small circular parking area.  There is no one else around.  The woods are hushed.  We step out of the relative safety of my vehicle, and my unease shows when I automatically lock the car.  Melissa is slightly ahead of me and she turns with a laugh, “Did you just lock the car?  There’s NO ONE here.”

I laugh.  “Habit, I guess.”

First we stop to read a small statue and tribute to our soldiers.  Having a son in the Army, I appreciate that, and take a moment to take a few photos and reflect for a moment that others support our armed forces (and our family) in a visible way.  

We start across the wood bridge over the creek.  The creek is just a trickle, but it’s carved the land down several feet, so we can see the power it has at times, or just the power of time, as it were.  And we have our first view of the chapel.  It’s above us – there’s about 20 stairs we’ll climb to reach it – and it’s perfect.  A small stone (rock) chapel in the middle of the trees, that appears to be hundreds of years old.  We don’t have the history of the place yet, so I’ll fill you in on that later, but it’s obvious this is not of this century, perhaps not even the last.  We’ll find out.  

As we climb a few concrete steps and reach the first landing, I glance off to the left and see a large rosary made of stepping stones.  We’ll have to look at that later.  First, we want to see the chapel.  

Once we finish the 20 steps, we are on the level of the chapel.  Directly in front of us is a sidewalk taking us to the chapel, but before we get there, there are 6 graves with crosses – 3 on each side of the walkway.  The three on the right have names and dates:  Sister Avertamms Schweitzer, Father John Scherer, and Brother G____ Kuave, the three on the left are blank.  Again, we don’t yet understand the history of this, but it will come.

We’ve reached the chapel.  The doors are solid wood, arched, pointed at top, and gorgeous.  In front of those doors, sadly, are metal gates with a heavy chain and padlock.  But the padlock is open, allowing for visits.  Melissa unwraps the chain, and we giggle slightly as the doors groan loudly in the silence as Melissa pulls them open.  The interior is no larger than 10 x 15 or maybe 18’.  There are wooden folding chairs against the wall, and a kneeling bench up front.  I am not catholic, so while I can appreciate the beauty before me, I feel a bit like I’m trespassing somewhere sacred.  Melissa, on the other hand, was raised Catholic, though she doesn’t practice anymore.  She laughs quietly as she says, “I can’t help it”, and genuflects before proceeding to the kneeling bench.  She bows her head, and I wander quietly, leaving her to it.  There are two small windows on either side of the chapel, both stained glass.  In front of the one to the right of the door is a guestbook, so I take a moment to sign it.  

I notice the uneasy feeling I had when we first arrived has completely vanished.  I’m in awe of the attention to detail throughout the entire chapel – from the painted frescoes that adorn the ceiling to the painted wall coverings.  

After Melissa finishes up, she signs the guestbook and we begin to explore the grounds.  

If we’re facing the doors, to the right of the chapel, there is a large metal base holdin gup a large brass bell.  Surrounding the chapel, there are 13 stations.  Each has a post with artwork from Christ’s journey to the cross, and there are benches to sit and reflect.  

We make the circle separately, taking it in.  At station 3, there is a small white plastic chair.  It’s obvious that this station brings someone comfort frequently.

There’s a tree that has a hole through it.  It looks like it may have been struck by lightning at some point, and you can see the chapel through the hole.  

Next, we wander down to the rosary.  There’s a rather large statue of Mary, with her hands folded in prayer.  She stands on a concrete pad with a metal roof, overlooking the rosary.  The rosary itself is laid out in a rough butterfly pattern.  A cross is nearest the sidewalk, then one blue, three white, and another blue stone create the dangle for the cross.  The circle portion of the rosary is primarily white, with four more blue stones spaced throughout.  The stones are plain concrete but cast with a rose top.  

On our way back to the car park area, we make note of the crosses nailed to trees again.  Just as we reach the gate, I exclaimed “twelve!”  

Melissa looks at me, the question unnecessary.

“I think there are twelve crosses, for the twelve disciples of Jesus.”

“Well, that makes sense,” she says.  

And we begin our discussions of our favorite part of the chapel, the grounds, and how happy we are that the museum docent suggested we go to see it.  

We’ve been back many times since, but the chapel has only been open three times.  Every visit since, it’s been closed and we’ve been unable to go inside, although we enjoy a few minutes wandering the grounds before we leave.  It’s become one of our “happy places”.  I believe next time we go back, we may give the caretakers a call and see if we may be able to visit inside again.

In the meantime, I promised you a bit of history.  But that is murky, to be sure.  Accounts of the history vary, so it’s not as easy as doing research and typing it out.  

Accounts of the original use of the chapel vary, with many saying it was used exclusively by monks, one or two at a time, to get away from the busyness of their world.  

Here is a link to a video from Channel 3, KTBS about the Rock Chapel, and their version of it’s history.  https://www.ktbs.com/news/rick-rowe/where-in-the-arklatex-is-rick-rowe/where-in-the-arklatex-is-rick-rowe-rock-chapel-in-carmel-la/article_fa5fda06-b3f0-11ec-934e-cf45285b99b8.html

Other sources say that the Chapel was used to minister to the under-served black population, and even may have been a school at one time.  

Chris Jay, writing for Discover DeSoto, tells both histories here:  https://discoverdesoto.com/listing/rock-chapel/

The one thing everyone can seem to agree on is that Rock Chapel was built in 1891 by Carmelite monks, when there was a monastery nearby – one that burned down in 1904.  After the fire, Rock Chapel was abandoned and left to the elements. 

In 1960, the Catholic Diocese hired a local artist, Eugenie Manning, to restore the artwork originally created by the monks.  Her meticulous restoration can be seen by contacting the caretaker, Mr. Vance Shaver can be reached at 318-461-2971.  The address of the chapel is: 1746 Smithport Lake Road, Mansfield, LA 71052.  

If you visit, please remember that we’d all like history left for everyone to see it.  Please don’t litter, and if you find trash on the site, pick it up and take it with you – even if it’s not yours.  

This family trip will take several posts.  There were several first-times for several of us, our fair share of hiccups, many places we’ve each vowed that we must return for longer, and it’s one of the longest trips we’ve taken in a relatively short amount of time.  5,000+ miles in just under 14 days.  We also have each discovered travel preferences, what worked and some definite “what not to dos” along the way.  There were some exciting moments, some very sad moments, a lot of beauty, and some frustrations.  But we each learned a lot.

Two weeks before Thanksgiving, we received a call from our Army son that he needed to be in “ready status” to deploy.  We quickly firmed up some loosely organized Thanksgiving plans to go visit.  Just a day or two after that, we received word that my husband’s Uncle Billy was not doing well, and was hospitalized.  We started looking at flights for my husband to go visit his New Hampshire family, then go directly on to Virginia and we would meet him there for Thanksgiving.  Perhaps taking a day during that time to go back to New Hampshire to introduce the rest of the family to our youngest and our Army boy and his family, whom they had never met.  

Then we received the dreaded call that Uncle Billy had passed.  His funeral was set for the Friday before Thanksgiving.  Just before we were scheduled to leave to go to Virginia.  We quickly put together a plan to leave a few days early, and drive to New Hampshire before our trip to Virginia.  GPS showed the trip would be approximately 28 hours.  We left on Wednesday, the 13th of November, 2023 with the intent that between 4 drivers, we would drive straight through.  We arrived somewhere around 30 hours later, which all things considered (we did stop to eat, gas up several times, and to see Niagara Falls), was not bad at all. But we were exhausted.

Trip summary:

5038.5 miles

Summary:  We traveled through – including our home state of Texas – 18 states (some multiple times, in different areas), and Washington, D.C.

More to come about the trip…

This was our inaugural trip with the Part Time Gypsy Wagon (a 2014 Fireside by Springdale that we purchased after she had flooded and then sat unopened and untouched for a couple of years). She was travel worthy, and had been scrubbed top to bottom at least 4 times, but still mid-remodel, so there was little but a shell – A/C, supplemented with a window A/C, refrigerator, stove, and bare floors that my husband and son finished replacing the day before we left. We couldn’t even use the water, as we had determined the leak was in the bathroom, but flooded it again before we realized it had not been repaired (luckily, this happened BEFORE we finished replacing the floors). Melissa helped cover the wood with some carpet squares and rugs, her hubby moved a futon and twin mattress inside her, and away we went! We found everything else we needed along the way.

So, as we were traveling back through Texas to catch the highway to head north, we both saw a billboard. We didn’t catch much, except that it was advertising a General Store, and the sign said Coffee 5 cents!!! In this economy (or really, ANY economy), and being coffee lovers, we both decided we had to check it out!

We found an old-style town square, complete with cobblestone streets.

Before I tell you where it was, watch this short slideshow I put together for it:

Did you catch the name of the town?

Jefferson, Texas! We will definitely have to go back – it is on our radar now, and we won’t rest until we get another trip in. Jefferson is known for being pre-Civil War, and most places put the birthdate of the town in 1836. It’s mentioned in historical records as early as 1840, so it’s somewhere around that time period. We visited the town square, parking our Gypsy Wagon right on the cobblestones, and walked around town a bit. The Jefferson General Store – which has been around since the 1870s was amazing – complete with 5 cent coffee, candy by the pound, a variety of locally made salsas, toys from days gone bye, and so much more! We couldn’t help but pick up a few things while we were there.

It was near closing time, so the only other shop we made it in before closing was the Jefferson Fudge Company. Their website doesn’t appear to be up, so I’ve linked their Facebook page instead. We slipped in right before closing, and they were incredibly welcoming and accommodating, answering questions and chatting about the chocolates. We bought a few and left so we didn’t keep them overlong, but there was a huge selection of other items in the store that I definitely want to check out next time as well!

After leaving, we found that the city itself is known for it’s history – find it here! It’s also known to be haunted. Melissa and I can’t wait to go back!!

Stay tuned for more adventures of Part Time Gypsy Souls!

When we knew we needed to stay close to Minden, as that’s where our potential client introductory meeting was, we looked for things to do, and found that Bonnie & Clyde’s shootout and death took place nearby. So, after our visit to the potential client, we took off for the museum in Gibsland, LA. When we pulled into town, we were a little surprised at how small the town was. In retrospect, I don’t know why. Bonnie & Clyde wreaked havoc in towns both big and small.

The Bonnie & Clyde Ambush Museum is located in the building that Ma Canfield’s Cafe was in. The morning of May 23, 1934, Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow stopped at the diner. Clyde went in, ordered a fried bologna sandwich for himself, and a BLT for Bonnie (who waited in the car) “to go”. They got back on the road, and made it 7-1/2 miles before they were finally ambushed.

The museum has a replicated car “the death car”, mannequins inside and all. It has a scene that is the two of them lying side by side in a medical facility, with all of their injuries from the hail of bullets documented. There are letters upon letters, including letters to each other, letters from Clyde to home, even a letter from his mother to a law enforcement officer requesting the return of the guns he had carried in those last days. The space is small, and it feels as if every surface is covered with memorabilia. I found this odd juxtaposition between criminals who had kidnapped and murdered people, stolen cars and money… and this twisted love story of two people wanting to sail off into the sunset – in a hail of bullets. In life, they got the ending they wanted. In death, not so much. Bonnie’s mother refused her daughter’s dying wish to be buried next to Clyde Barrow (Clyde’s family was also against it). Bonnie is buried in Crown Hill Memorial in Northwest Dallas, although she was moved there later. Originally she was buried in Fish Trap Cemetery in West Dallas. Clyde is buried in Western Heights Cemetery in West Dallas, with his brother, “Buck”.

Their families have spoken many times about moving Bonnie again, to be buried with Clyde. As of this writing, it hadn’t happened yet, but we’ll see what the future holds.

After our visit to the museum, we followed the directions to the death site.

The story of Bonnie and Clyde has been told many times, in many ways. A google search will lead you to plenty of sites where you can read the different interpretations of their lives. I may come back and add to this post some, but for now, that was our visit to the Ambush Museum and their Death Site.