|
My Small Town Story: Christoval, Texas
My family moved to Christoval, Texas, in 1966, when my aunt told my
father that there was a job opening for a manager of the Christoval Park
and Lodge. At that time the owner was Pauline Duncan. I was eight years
old and I remember when I first saw the house that we would be living
in, I thought it was so beautiful. It had stone siding on the outside
and the walls inside were all knotty pine. The fireplace in the living
room was made of colored rocks that were clear, and there was a light
that when turned on shone through the rocks. I thought that was the
neatest thing.
There was one school, first through twelfth grades
all in one building; my sister, who is seven years older, went there
also. I made friends easily since there were only twenty in my grade,
counting myself. I guess that was large compared to my sister's class,
which only had eleven (she was a sophomore).
The summer was the
busy time at the lodge with people coming to have their family reunions
at the park and camp out and some stayed at the lodge. At that time the
area was marked with a large sign over the entrance that read,
"Christoval Park." Just down the road in walking distance from our house
was the South Concho River, although at the time I didn't know what the
name was, I just knew it was a good place to have fun. I didn't know how
to swim so I wore one of those old orange life vests, and soon I was
swimming on my own, my bathing suit barely ever dried. Most of the older
kids would jump out of an old tree that was growing over the river, and
there was a deep spot right under a big branch where they had to jump so
as not to hit bottom.
It wasn’t long before I was climbing up
that rope into the tree to take my first jump into the water. All of a
sudden I saw my mother standing by the tree yelling at me to get down.
Realizing that I would probably fall if I tried to climb down, I
persuaded her to let me jump. After that there was no slowing me down; I
was swinging out on ropes, jumping off the diving board that seemed so
high, and jumping out of the tree. That was pretty great for me, since I
couldn't swim a lick when we first got there. Not even the water
moccasins that skimmed across the river at night kept us from the fun.
I also liked to fish, and always would look for out-of-the-way places to be
alone to fish for hours. I was so proud to bring home fish to fry. One
night I decided to run a trotline overnight to see what I could catch.
The next morning I ran down to pull the line in and to my surprise I had
hooked a large black bass. I ran all the way home to tell my mother that
I needed a big bucket to carry the big fish home. Not believing me, she
gave me a little mop bucket. I said no, that's too small, I need a real
big bucket, so she laughed and gave me a five-gallon bucket. When I
finally returned home, barely able to lift the bucket with all the water
and the fish, my mother looked inside and the fish was curled around the
bucket. She had to keep the fish alive in the bathtub until my father
got home. She never doubted me after that.
We also ran a
concession stand down by the river and rented paddleboats and had music
from the jukebox. There was a little café where we would go to get
cherry Cokes--yum, I can still taste it.
Down by the river there
was an old boathouse that was all boarded up. We wondered what it was
like when it was in use. It resembled a large ship made of rock, with
portholes. I wonder if it is still there, or if our old house is still
there.
Now I live in California. When I finally got on the
Internet, I started searching for information on Christoval. I did a
search on small towns of Texas and came across the Handbook of Texas
Online. I read the article on the history of Christoval and there was an
e-mail address, so I commented on the article and I received a response.
So if you’re looking for memories of the past, don't give up, it's there
somewhere, you just have to find the right people to help, and keep
searching.
Maybe someday my husband and children, who were all
raised in California, will understand my connection to the small-town
life. Maybe someday we can take that vacation from our work and busy
lives and go back to that place I liked so much--Christoval, Texas.
Karen Nelson
, California
Published:
May 31,
2006
Categories
Related Handbook of Texas Online articles
| 
