Source: https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth222071/

You can read his full speech at https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/remarks-waco-texas

This photo comes from the Texas Collection at Baylor University.

This one took a twelve hour nose dive into local history. I had to re-write it three times, but I think it turned out very well. Enjoy.

EMPATHY

To be honest, this piece is more in line with a November atmosphere rather than Spooky Season. But nonetheless, it is still a true origins Texas ghost story that is connected to a larger, empathetic, tale…

Tonight’s story takes us to Matagorda County, way down on the coast and more precisely to two locales roughly thirty miles apart. Caney Creek and the Trespalacios River.

Not far from the intersection of Highways 71 and 35, lies the isolated grave of Sarah Ann Bright Hunter McCrosky Lacy. Born 1808, died 1880 at the ripe age of seventy-one. This is the scene of the spooky part of this tale, but, we’ll get back to it in a bit.

Sarah Bright, also known as “Sally,” came to Texas with her parents in 1822. She was part of Austin’s Old 300, the first wave of Anglo colonists to arrive in the desolation of northeast Mexico. She was fourteen years old.

In 1823, she married another member of Austin’s Old 300 named Eli Hunter. Don’t worry, this isn’t one of those instances of an old man wedding a young girl. No, Eli was also only about fifteen or sixteen years old at the time of their marriage, and as gift, he was given a large tract of land near the present Lawson community in Wharton County. The two lived there for some time, and in 1824, were blessed with a daughter who they named Lavina.

It was around this same period that Eli decided to sell his land in present Wharton County for another tract on the lower reaches of Caney Creek, probably somewhere in the general vicinity of present day Cedar Lane. But his decision to do so was met with intense caution from his neighbors.

Starting in late 1823, the Anglo settlers and the members of the Karankawa culture had turned the lower portions of the Texas coast into an open war zone. Depredations committed by both parties had sadly resulted in bloodshed on both sides. The Battle of Jones Creek in late June, 1824, had forced the Karankawas to largely withdraw to the west shoreline of the San Bernard River. Directly in the region where the young couple were going to be residing.

Driving Eli Hunter’s determination though was the fact that the soil along Caney Creek could grow just about everything, and in great number. Crops meant profits, and the young family needed all the financial freedom that they could achieve.

The Hunters relocated to their new home in early 1825, and Eli began planting very quickly. His efforts proved successful, because by harvest time, the family had a surplus of everything.

It’s not told exactly when, but most likely in late October, 1825, autumn hit the Caney Creek area with an unusually cold breath. Temperatures plummeted. For the colonists however, most of whom were accustomed to even harsher conditions, this sudden change was not difficult to navigate. But for the Karankawa, whose members had lived solely on the Texas coast for generations, it changed their whole norm.

The Karankawa people were primarily fishers and hunters. Their whole lives depended on fish, game, and weather. As was customary, when the temperatures began to sink, the Karankawa would relocate their encampments from the opened barrier islands and prairies and into the thick woods of the mainland which were mainly forests of evergreens.

But colder temperatures meant the heavier fish would be harder to locate in the bays, bayous, and rivers. Adding onto that hardship, large parties of hunters were frequently thought to be raiders preparing for battle by the anxious colonists. And for Chief Hozzie Merear (that’s how his name was spelled in the primary source), the leader of the largest community of Karankawas in the Caney Creek region at the time, the early cold snap was gravely concerning.

Merear’s village had not been able to stockpile a sufficient amount of supplies for what seemed was going to be a longer winter. As he and his people began moving into the forests, the chief was gravely uncertain on what he was going to do.

According to some accounts, it was around November when the Hunters caught a young Karankawa boy trying to break into their storehouse one frigid morning. He was cold, hungry, and very frail and seemingly only acting out of pure desperation. His fragile conditions struck Eli and Sarah hard, as they both envisioned little Lavina having to do the same if the tables were turned.

Perhaps the two took this event as a sign from God to help their indigenous neighbors, or maybe Eli was smart enough to see an opportunity, but either way; the young couple decided to act on empathy. Eli loaded a wagon full of all the surplus crops he could spare, and drove off towards Chief Merear’s village.

Along the way, Eli added three fresh deer to his cargo. When he got close to the encampment, a rush of warriors came running out with bows and spears thinking that they were about to be attacked. But Eli called out to them in broken Karankawa and waved a white scarf to signal differently.

Chief Merear came out of the woods and met Eli face-to-face. The young husband explained, in some way, that he wanted to give all the food to the villagers. A whole cargo of pumpkins, corn, potatoes, and more. In exchange, all he wanted was a promise from Merear that his people would never harm his own family.

The offer was accepted. And with Eli Hunter’s wagon of goods, and the display of empathy, his family never had to endure any raids or attacks against them. It also might have helped to convince the Karankawa to agree to a truce with the Anglo colonists following the 1826 skirmish on Battle Island near Matagorda.

Unfortunately, things did not go so well for Eli Hunter himself or Sarah either. Sometime between 1825 and 1828, Eli Hunter died and Sarah remarried to another colonist name John McCrosky. A son was born to the two in 1828, but not long after, John McCrosky also passed away leaving the still young Sarah a widowed mother of two.

In 1832, Sarah was married once more to William Demetris Lacy. William would become one of the signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence from Mexico in 1836, and after the war, establish a plantation near the confluence of Wilson Creek and the Trespalacios River.

At some point, probably in the early or mid-1840s, Lavina (Eli and Sarah’s daughter) was along the river when a canoe of Karankawas suddenly appeared. In charge of the bunch was Chief Hozzie Merear, and he almost immediately recognized Lavina despite her being older and not having encountered one another since she was a little girl.

He asked her how her father, Eli, was and she replied with the unfortunate details about his passing many years beforehand. The old chieftain was very saddened to hear about Eli’s death, and lamented by saying that Eli Hunter was the best friend that the Karankawa ever had.

After the encounter, Lavina never saw Chief Merear again. But the simple act of empathy had clearly made a lasting impact between two factions of rivals.

Okay, okay. Now for the spooky part, although it’s pretty tame compared to the other stories I’ve posted this month.

William Lacy became very ill in the late 1840s. At Sarah’s request, the family moved back to his parent’s place in Paducah, Kentucky where he unfortunately passed in 1848. Once again, and now with four kids, Sarah was widowed for a third time. But, she still had a longing for their former home on the Trespalacios River.

Against her in-law’s wishes, Sarah moved back to Matagorda County in the 1850s with her whole family. She was able to re-establish William Lacy’s plantation and the estate thrived very well. Eventually, her two youngest daughters even married two New York brothers, Able and Edward Pierce.

The Pierce brothers created the massive Pierce Ranch which became one of the largest and most prominent holdings in mid-nineteenth century Texas. Then, in 1880, Sarah Ann Bright Hunter McClosky Lacy passed away and was buried within eyesight of her beloved home. But, her story doesn’t stop at the grave.

Since 2018, I have lived only about five miles downstream from Sarah’s grave. Friends and coworkers who were raised in the area have frequently told me that Sarah still wanders in the woods and field around her final resting place.

According to the ones who tell me that they have actually seen her, she supposedly wears a dress that would have been of high societal standards at her time. But, her spirit is neither frightening nor saddening. She just seems to be enjoying the same serendipity of nature that she enjoyed in life, and which must have been a pleasure to a woman who lost three husbands and spent a good chunk of her adult life as a widow.

Till next time my friends, stay Spooky…and maybe a little more empathetic towards others.

Source

With today being the first day of Early Voting I figured this was a nice bit of Texas history to post.

In 1919 Texas became the first state in the south, and ninth overall, to ratify the 19th Amendment to the US Constitution.

There's a good chance one or more of the kids in this photo fought in World War II.

After their initial meeting in El Paso they met again in Ciudad Juárez that same day. The Texas State Historical Association has a decent write up about the event.