Loving County, Texas (revisited)

First timer? In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog) I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Dan:  In my last post (obviously Loving County, Texas), I presented a good ol’ country song written and performed by Charlie Robison – a tragic tale of a man and his lost love.  So, if you happened to read (and remember) my last post, read on.  If you didn’t read it (or don’t remember it), please scroll down and check it out (at least the part about the song) before coming back here.

Anyway, the lyrics to the song were a little confusing and I concluded that it needed another verse for clarification.  Here’s what I said:

“The song needs another verse that talks about the sheriff being the murdered woman’s husband; him finding the girl with her ring and taking it from her, and then going to look for the murderer. I’ll work on that, and come up with a “revisited” post if I come up with a worthwhile new verse . . .”

Well, here’s the song with the lyrics (and my extra verse) below.  I presented my added verse in red:

Well, I loved a girl
She lived out in Pecos, and pretty as she could be
And I worked the rigs on out in Odessa
To give her whatever she needs

But that girl, she run with an oil company bum
‘Cause the diamond was not on her hand
And he left her soon ‘neath the big loving moon
To go out and X-ray the land

Now I sit in my car at the New Rainbow Bar downtown
And the frost on the windshield shines toward the sky
Like a thousand tiny diamonds in the lights of loving county

Well, l walked in that bar and I drank myself crazy
Thinking about her and that man
When in walked a woman, looking richer than sin
And ten years worth of work on her hand  [referring to the ring on her finger]

Well, I followed her home and when she was alone
Well, I put my gun to her head
And I don’t recall what happened next at all
But now that rich woman, she is dead

Now I drive down the highway
Ten miles from my sweet baby’s arms
And the moon is so bright it don’t look like night
And the diamond how it sparkles in the lights of loving county

But she opened that door and I knelt on the floor
And I put that ring in her hand
Then she said, “I do” and she’d leave with me soon
To the rigs out in South Alabama

Well, I told her to hide that ring there inside
And wait ’til the timing was good
And I drove back home and I was alone
‘Cause I thought that she understood

The next night an old friend just called me to wish us both well
He said, he’d seen her downtown, sashaying around
And her diamond how it sparkled in the lights of loving county

As fate would have it, the sheriff’s wife
Was the woman that I shot
He found my girl and took back the ring
And vowed that I’d be caught.

Well that sheriff, he found me out wandering
All around El Paso the very next day
You see, I’d lost my mind on that broken white line
Before I even reached Balmorhea

Well, now she’s in Fort Worth and she’s just giving birth
To the son of that oil company man
And they buried that poor old sheriff’s dead wife
With the ring that I stole on her hand

And sometimes they let me look up at that East Texas sky
And the rain on the pines, oh Lord, how it shines
Like my darling’s little diamond in the lights of loving county

Much better, don’t you think?

In my last post I said nothing about he singer/songwriter:  Charlie Robison.  He was one of those singer/songwriters who’s really good at what he does, but flies beneath the radar of most folks (outside of Austin).  He doesn’t have a day job, makes enough money to hire decent bandmates, tours all year long, and has enough left over to live a pretty good life. 

But good ol’ Charlie had some health issues, and tragically died just this last September at the age of 59. 

So, if Charlie were alive, I’d send him my new lyrics – not really thinking that he’d incorporate them to his song – but I’d figure what-the-heck. 

So what are the odds that a musician who covers Charlie Robion, reads my blog (or is told about it) and decides to add my verse?  The odds are not 0.00000%, but damn near close to it.  Oh, well . . .

That’ll do it –

KS

Greg

Loving County, Texas

First timer? In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog) I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2645; A Landing A Day blog post number 1090

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (N31^o 43.434’, W104^o 11.684) puts me in West Texas:

Here’s my local landing map, showing Loving County and Mentone, the County Seat:

I’ll zoom back a little to include the towns of Pecos and Odessa (mentioned later in this post):

I’ll move over to Google Earth (GE) to check out my local watershed:

You can see that I landed in the watershed of Salt Creek, on to the Pecos River (19^th hit).  Although not shown, the Pecos makes its way south to discharge into the Rio Grande (58^th hit).

The OD found a bridge over Salt Creek):

He went a little further downstream, and found this at-grade crossing of Salt Creek:

Evidently, the road acts as a dam. He took a look upstream:

So.  I didn’t land in Loving County, but here goes . . .

The 2020 population was 64, making Loving County the least-populated county in the entire U.S.  Mentone (pop 22) is the only town in the county, and, understandably, is the county seat.  Here’s the courthouse (Wiki):

This is the only two-story building in the entire county.

From Wiki, about Mentone:

Today, Mentone contains little more than a courthouse, two stop signs, a gas station, a post office, and an abandoned school building (closed when enrollment fell to two pupils).  A volunteer fire department serves the town, but the town contains no hospitals or cemeteries, and no doctors or lawyers.

Mentone was the home of the first elected female sheriff in Texas, Edna Reed Clayton DeWees, who was appointed to the job in January 1945, then won an election to continue in the office through 1947. She never carried a firearm, and reported only two arrests during her entire term.

The OD decided to cruise around Mentone.  As he came into town, this was his view:

And then, he happened upon the courthouse:

And the abandoned school.

That’s about it for Mentone . . .

When I Googled Loving County, I saw that it was the title of song by Charlie Robison.  I really liked the song, which is a a ballad that tells the tragic tale of a man and his lost love.  I studied the lyrics to sort out the details of the story, but needed a little help, which I received from an article in the Permian Basin Oil and Gas Magazine:

In Robison’s scenario, a roughneck based in Odessa falls for a pretty young girl from Pecos. But she runs off with an “oil company bum ’cause a diamond was not on her hand.”

[The oilman was there to “X-ray the land.”  This tells me that he was a geophysicist (like my brother-in-law Peter and his son, my nephew, Corey), using geophysical techniques to prospect for oil. Not exactly X-rays, but close enough.]

The roughneck goes to a bar and does some serious drinking.  He sees a woman with a large diamond ring on her finger.  He follows her home, kills her and steals her diamond ring.

He then takes the ring—“the diamond how it sparkles in the lights of Loving County”—and proposes marriage to his flighty lover. Instead of not wearing the ring and keeping mum about the engagement as he asks, she shows off the ring in town, “and her diamond how it sparkled in the lights of Loving County.”

It turns out that the dead woman just happens to be the sheriff’s wife. The lawman hears about the woman with the ring, finds her and recovers his dead wife’s ring.  He then quickly tracks down her murderer in El Paso, on the run dazed and confused.  After the arrest, the sheriff buries his wife with the recovered ring on her hand.

As for the Pecos gal, “Now she’s in Fort Worth and she’s just given birth / To the son of that oil company man.”

After his trial and conviction, the roughneck is incarcerated on the other side of the state (in East Texas), but for him the lights of Loving County have not dimmed. “Sometimes they let me look up at that East Texas sky / And the rain on the pines oh, Lord, how it shines / Like my darlin’ little diamond in the lights of Loving County.”

For all the song’s bleakness, its poignancy has touched a chord with many listeners. Brandon Cook, the blog creator and host of Lone Star STOMP, was in the audience for a Charlie Robison concert at Dos Amigos Cantina in Odessa in 2011. He reported that “a highlight was when Robison hit the opening to ‘Loving County’… Hearing a room full of Odessa roughnecks and roustabouts yell along with the words was certainly something.”

Here’s the song, with the words to follow:

Well, I loved a girl
She lived out in Pecos, and pretty as she could be
And I worked the rigs on out in Odessa
To give her whatever she needs

But that girl, she run with an oil company bum
‘Cause the diamond was not on her hand
And he left her soon ‘neath the big loving moon
To go out and X-ray the land

Now I sit in my car at the New Rainbow Bar downtown
And the frost on the windshield shines toward the sky
Like a thousand tiny diamonds in the lights of Loving County

Well, I followed her home and when she was alone
Well, I put my gun to her head
And I don’t recall what happened next at all
But now that rich woman, she is dead

Well, l walked in that bar and I drank myself crazy
Thinking about her and that man
When in walked a woman, looking richer than sin
And ten years worth of work on her hand  [referring to the ring on her finger]

Now I drive down the highway
Ten miles from my sweet baby’s arms
And the moon is so bright it don’t look like night
And the diamond how it sparkles in the lights of Loving County

But she opened that door and I knelt on the floor
And I put that ring in her hand
Then she said, “I do” and she’d leave with me soon
To the rigs out in South Alabama

Well, I told her to hide that ring there inside
And wait ’til the timing was good
And I drove back home and I was alone
‘Cause I thought that she understood

The next night an old friend just called me to wish us both well
He said, he’d seen her downtown, sashaying around
And her diamond how it sparkled in the lights of Loving County

Well that sheriff [the murdered woman’s husband], he found me out wandering
All around El Paso the very next day
You see, I’d lost my mind on that broken white line
Before I even reached Balmorhea [a small town in West Texas]

Well, now she’s in Fort Worth and she’s just given birth
To the son of that oil company man
And they buried that poor old sheriff’s dead wife
With the ring that I stole on her hand

And sometimes they let me look up at that East Texas sky
And the rain on the pines, oh Lord, how it shines
Like my darling’s little diamond in the lights of Loving County

The song needs another verse that talks about the sheriff being the murdered woman’s husband; him finding the girl with her ring and taking it from her, and then going to look for the murderer. I’ll work on that, and come up with a “revisited” post if I come up with a worthwhile new verse . . .

I’ll close this down this this shot of Salt Creek posted on GE by de Stuffilator (great handle!):

That’ll do it –

KS

Greg

© 2023 A Landing A Day

Blackstock and Chester, South Carolina

First timer? In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog) I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2644; A Landing A Day blog post number 1089

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (N34^o 31.512’, W81^o 12.041) puts me in north central South Carolina:

Here’s my local landing map:

My streams-only map takes us from my landing all the way to the Atlantic Ocean, via the Little River (1^st hit ever!); to the Broad River (3^rd hit); to the Congaree (7^th hit); to the Santee (10^th hit):

I asked the Orange Dude to get as close as he could to my landing.  This was the best he could do:

And here’s what he could see:

Here’s what Wiki had to say about Blackstock:

A monument dedicated to the slave Burrel Hemphill can be found on the front grounds of Hopewell ARP Church.  The monument consists of a small stone building with a placard that reads:

“In memory of Burrel Hemphill, killed by Union soldiers February 1865. Although a slave, he gave his life rather than betray a trust. He was a member of Hopewell [ARP Church].”

One account of Hemphill’s death states that he was tortured and killed by U.S. soldiers after refusing to disclose where his master had hidden certain valuables. 

From The Lantern:

According to http://www.oldeenglishdistrict.com, Burrel Hemphill was a slave in the household of the very wealthy bachelor, Robert Hemphill, during the Civil War.  

The story goes that when soldiers approached the Hemphill estate, Robert Hemphill, the plantation owner, fled to North Carolina. Burrel remained, and the soldiers demanded that he reveal the hiding places of the Hemphill silverware, money, and other valuables. Burrel reportedly refused, and was then tortured to death. 

Whether or not Burrel was privy to the information about the existence and/or location of the valuables is not known.  To this day, the silver, money, and other valuables remain shrouded in mystery.

While it’s uncertain what exactly Mr. Hemphill knew or didn’t at the time, he has certainly piqued the interest and attention of treasure-seekers in that area. Burrel Hemphill may have taken the secret to his grave at Hopewell ARP Church in 1865, but the legend will continue to live on in history.

Is the Blackstock Community sitting on a silvermine of wealth, or did Robert Hemphill flee in the middle of the night with the valuables safely strapped to his wagon as he vanished into the dead of night?

Moving on to Chester.  From Wiki:

While being transported to Richmond for his trial for treason, former Vice-President Aaron Burr passed through Chester. Burr “flung himself from his horse and cried for a rescue, but the officer commanding the escort seized him, threw him back like a child into the saddle, and marched on.”  The large stone he stood on has been inscribed and is preserved in the town center, and is known locally as the Aaron Burr Rock.

What the heck; here’s a little Aaron Burr info (mostly taken from Wiki):

• He was the third U.S. Vice President, serving under Thomas Jefferson
• In 1804, the last full year of his single term as vice president, Burr shot his political rival Alexander Hamilton in a famous duel.
• The two had been locked in a bitter political feud for years, and eventually agreed to the duel.
• They were both in NY City, but rowed across the Hudson to Weehawken NJ (anti-dueling laws were less enforced in NJ than in NY).
• It was common for both principals in a duel to fire a shot at the ground to exemplify courage, and then the duel could come to an end.
• However, Hamilton reportedly fired first, but intentionally missed Burr.
• The bullet hit a tree above and behind Burr.
• Burr knew that a projectile from Hamilton’s gun had whizzed past him and crashed into the tree to his rear.
• According to the principles of the code duello, Burr was perfectly justified in taking deadly aim at Hamilton and firing to kill.
• Hamilton was mortally wounded by the shot in his lower abdomen; he was taken back to NY where he died the next day.
• Burr was charged for murder in both NY and NJ.
• Burr fled to South Carolina, where his daughter lived with her family.  [Is this when he passed through Chester?], but soon returned to Philadelphia and then to Washington to complete his term as Vice President.
• He avoided New York and New Jersey for a time, but all the charges against him were eventually dropped.  He lived in NY until his death in 1833.

The Orange Dude cruised around downtown Chester to see what he could see.  Of interest, he came across this:

His guess (and mine as well) was that this was a Civil War monument.  A little research verified our presumption.  Here is what is inscribed at the base of the monument:

South Side

This monument guards the memory
of the men of Chester District
who obeying the call of their state
died for the Confederate cause.

1861-1865

Time may crumble this marble into dust
but time can not dim their glory.
Their patriotism, their valor, their
faithfulness and their fame remain
forever the heritage of their country men

Non Sibi Sed Patriae   [“Not for self, but for country”]

North Side

Their fame increases like the
branches of a tree through the
hidden course of time

The monument was constructed in 1905 by the McNeil Marble Company.  Although “marble” is in the name of the company and “marble” is also mentioned in the inscription, the monument is actually made of granite . . .

That’ll do it –

KS

Greg

© 2023 A Landing A Day

Pyramid Lake, Nevada

First timer? In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-a-week blog) I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some relatively recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2643; A Landing A Day blog post number 1088

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (N39^o 48.513’, W119^o 44.569) puts me in northwest Nevada:

Here’s my local landing map:

I need to go to Google Earth (GE) to check out my local watersheds:

As you can see, I landed in the watershed of Cottonwood Creek, on to Mullen Creek, on to Pyramid Lake (which has no outlet).

By the way, of my 2,643 landings, this is the 21^st time I’ve landed in a Cottonwood Creek watershed. . .

From TravelNevada.com:

Pyramid Lake is one of the last remaining remnants of the ancient Lake Lahontan and is located entirely within the Paiute Indian Reservation. It is fed by the Truckee River, which drains nearby Lake Tahoe.  Today, the lake measures roughly 15 miles long by 11 miles wide (about the same size as Lake Tahoe), with a maximum depth of 350 feet.

Wow.  This is a substantial natural lake that’s 350’ deep, and is the largest remaining body of water from the ancient Lake Lahanton.  Of course, here’s a map:

About 12,000 years ago (during the most recent glacial epoch, when the climate was much cooler and wtter), there was an additional 550’ of water over the area of Pyramid Lake, giving Lake Lahanton a maximum depth of 900’. 

I landed near Pyramid Lake back in 2014.  From that post:

Pyramid Lake is known for its tufa deposits. Tufa is a limestone rock formed when spring water, enriched with calcium carbonate (the stuff of limestone), discharges underwater into a fresh water lake.  The calcium carbonate precipitates out of solution, progressively forming tufa one microscopic layer at a time (all of this under water).  This is siimilar to stalagmite formation, except that it happens under water.  When the water levels retreat, out pops the tufa!  Tufa can result in some very interesting-looking formations.

Here are two tufa shots (or is that tu twofa shots) at Pyramid Lake.  First this, from Photo River Blog (Hammon Photography):

And this, from Rachel Photo:

Any question about why it’s called Pyramid Lake?

Back to now.  When I was googling Pyramid Lake, I came across the Pyramid Lake War, aka the Paiute War.  This war is yet another example of the horrendous pattern of violence, lies and cruelty that marked the expansion of America.

As part of this war, there was a battle along the Truckee River, known as the first Battle of Pyramid Lake.  This is more-or-less from Wiki – it’s a little long, but please don’t skim:

In 1859, the news broke that silver had been found in the huge Comstock Lode. Hordes of miners flooded to the mining center of Virginia City (about 35 miles south of Pyramid Lake). They cut down pinyon trees to make fuel for ore-processing, destroying the pine-nut orchards that were essential to the Paiute food economy. Hunters and trappers took big game, fish, and waterfowl to feed the miners. Ranchers moved into the fertile valleys, cutting off access to places where nuts, roots, and seeds could be gathered.

The Paiutes and their allies, the Bannocks and Shoshones, gathered at Pyramid Lake towards the end of April 1860 for a conference on how to deal with the encroachments of the white men. Most of the leaders spoke out for war. Chief Winnemucca, the most senior leader at the assembly, appeared to be in favor of war, but refrained from taking a public position. 

Numaga was the only chief who spoke in favor of peace. He agreed that the white men had greatly wronged the Indians, but pointed out that given their numbers and resources, the whites would be bound to win any war.

While Numaga was speaking, a group of Indians arrived and brought news of an incident that had just happened:  a group of Indians had raided a Pony Express station (the Williams Station) not far from Virginia City and killed five Americans.   After hearing what had taken place, Numaga said, “There is no longer any use for counsel; we must prepare for war, for the soldiers will now come here to fight us.”

William Ormsby (a local militia leader) assembled 105 men to punish the Paiute war party that attacked the Williams Station. Ormsby marched to the Station, buried the dead, and then followed the Paiute’s tracks north along the Truckee River.

On 12 May 1860, Ormsby sent out a scouting party led by Captain Archie McDonald. This party saw two Indians and were chasing after them when a larger group of Indians appeared. The scouts fled back to the main body. They were not pursued.

Ormsby’s force was along the river, in a broader part of the valley.  Ormsby decided to lead his troop downstream to pursue the Indians. The Truckee valley became narrower and steeper as the militia proceeded. Indians were encountered, who lured the militia further downstream.

At this point, a larger group of Natives appeared, closing the escape routes along the river; they began firing on the militia from all sides. The militia were poorly armed, and almost completely unorganized.

 Seventy-six militia were killed, including Ormsby, and many of the others were wounded. According to History of Nevada, three Natives were killed in the battle.

Here’s a Wiki picture of the narrowing portion of the Truckee Valley, into which Oramsby was lured:

Not surprisingly, regular U.S. Army troops were called in, and the Paiute were defeated at the second battle of Pyramid Lake. . .

I’ll close with this shot taken just a mile and half south of my landing, posted on GE by Johnny O:

That’ll do it –

KS

Greg

© 2023 A Landing A Day