There was no adventure he was afraid to try.

If you read the “About” on me, you know a bit of background about how I chose the name of my blog.  I am a 5th generation Texan and have been trying for years to get my rear in gear to make application to the Daughters of the Republic of Texas.  You know, they are the ladies who take care of the Alamo.

Little J in an reinactment

Little J (in red) in an re-inactment on anniversary of the Alamo’s fall.

You have to prove that you have an ancestor who lived in Texas when it was a Republic.  I have more than one ancestor who would qualify me for entry, but there is one in whom I am particularly interested.

His name is Richmond Dixon.  Love the name.  He was part of the Illinois Elder Daniel Parker group which came to the area of Elkhart and established the Pilgrim Predestinarian Regular Baptist Church.  Some of that group went further west to build Fort Parker.  Fort Parker is where Cynthia Ann Parker and her family were living when Comanches attacked the fort and carried off Cynthia Ann and four other captives in 1836.

Pilgrim Predestinarian Regular Baptist Church

Pilgrim Predestinarian Regular Baptist Church

Well, that concludes the history portion of today’s post.

I want to talk about Richmond, the man.  It’s hard to believe that I am only a few generations separated from the man found in the pages of a handwritten Parker family diary.  I haven’t corrected anything except inserting some punctuation to make it easier to read.

J.R. and Richmon Dixon was the hunters.  On one occasion they found a hog hanged up in the woods. late in the eveing they concieald themselves and wated for the Indians. Just at dark two Indians came to the hog. Both aimed to fire at the same time but Dixon’s gun snaped.  (J.R.’s)? Indian fell and he said Dixon droped his gun, leaped over the log, caught the Indian and killed him with his Bowie knife before he could get his gun and get to him. At another time some Indians stole a horse and they followed them on foot to near the Trinity, close to where Barnes was killed. came up with the Indians.  they had stoped to rest. they crawled to a log in range of the camp. could see but one Indian. they fired. the Indian fell, the rest ran off and they brought the horse back. I saw the bones of the Indian.  Dixon was a powerful man, active as a cat, weighed 180, no surpalas flesh and as fearless as a lion.  There was no adventure he was afraid to try.

The last sentence is what stuck with me….there was no adventure he was afraid to try.  There are several nice things my friends could say about me, but there was no adventure she was afraid to try would not be one of them.  What a life those people led.  They traveled hundreds of miles to a place where there was no Motel 6, no IHOP, no public restrooms.  They didn’t know where water was, they had to build everything from scratch, they provided their own food, they literally didn’t know if they were going to live another day.  That puts my not being able to get in for a pedicure when I want into perspective!

I will be talking more about Richmond in a later post.  And hopefully I will be announcing one day soon that I have FINALLY gotten my paperwork ready and submitted.  Maybe putting it out into cyberspace will make me feel accountable?

Do you know anything about your ancestors? Do you find inspiration or encouragement from knowing how they lived and what they went through for us to be where we are now?  I am so grateful for what I have when I remember the path of my ancestors.

Peace to all.  P

All photographs and writing property of LoneStarLifer. 2009.


Dedicated to my Father.

This is my father.dad1

Really, my daddy.

He was 71 when he died in September, 1998.  It’s the phone call in the middle of the night that you don’t ever want to answer.  Paula, Daddy died.



 My mom says it was such an honor to be married to him.  Soon after they married he had to go to Korea.  His training was at Camp Roberts in California.  Mom went out to be with him until he left for Korea.  After basic training he was able to leave the camp at night and be with Mom.  She said she would go to pick him up and every day when he walked over the hill towards her, her heart would pitter-pat.  He was tall and handsome and had the cutest smile.


 Somewhere there is a picture of my dad and his schoolmates in front of a one-room schoolhouse.  He’s probably about 10 yrs old.  He’s wearing overalls and no shoes.  I asked him why no shoes.  He only had one pair and he couldn’t wear them out going back and forth to school.  Later, we went to the falling-down remains of the house he grew up in.  There were no closets.  He said that was ok because he could hang everything he owned on a wire across the corner of the room. 


 From that came a man who became president of the school board and the hospital board; who became an elder at church; who was instrumental in getting a chapel built at the prison; who worked hard to preserve county history; who worked a 40 hr week, then went after work and on weekends to build fences and take care of the cattle he so enjoyed.

 He had a gentle spirit, was kind and fair, yet he had a quiet courage.  When he worked at the gas plant, after he came back from Korea, he asked the men in the office to take down their girlie calendars.  And they did.  He was responsible for keeping candy supplied in the same office.  We went to the wholesale candy store and he bought the candy. He was so honest.  If we ate a Hershey bar or a Chick-o-Stick, we paid for it.  He could have just taken the candy out of the box and who would have known the difference.  For years he counted the Sunday contribution from church.  We started collecting pennies and nickels, putting them in little coin displays.  We studied all the change in the contribution bag, and if we saw any that fit into our set, he replaced them with his own money.  He was a life-long student of life and continually added new interests and skills. He taught Sunday school many times.  When I watched him studying, he always had a dictionary sitting beside him.  When he didn’t know what something meant, he stopped and looked it up.  My little eyes saw all of that.





As I got older, the lessons and generosity continued.  One time I missed the bus to Midland to compete in a band event.  When we drove in the parking lot and saw that the bus was gone, he just exited the parking lot and drove me to Midland.  No fussing or martyrdom.  He made sure I attended the college I wanted and I walked across the graduation stage with no college debt.  He and mom drove to Lubbock so many times to see everything I was in.  One Saturday during my sophomore year in college he and mom surprised me.  When I opened the door of their car to go to lunch, I noticed a brand new white Ford Torino sitting next to the car.  It had my name on the paper tag in the window.  Best car ever!   He went through the Dale Carnegie course when I was young, and he thought it was important for me to take it and he paid so I could go.  He also paid for my brother to go and he is now paying for his daughter to go.  When I would come home, he would take my car to the shop and get the oil changed for me.  I’ve just touched the tip of the iceberg trying to describe what and who he was, but until the day he died he looked for ways to serve me and our family. He always made me want to reach higher and be the best Paula I could be.

I was a daddy’s girl. 

Still am. 

So Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.  I’m always honored to be known as your daughter.

All photographs and writing property of LoneStarLifer. 2009.