Today marks the 175th anniversary of the fall of the defenders at The Alamo, who come as close to being immortals as you can get. I know that Robert E. Howard thought that the little fort was one of the most haunted places he’d ever visited, but when I finally got there en route to Howard Days in June 2009 I had the same reaction I experienced upon visiting Westminster Abbey, thinking, jeez, what a tourist trap. Still, I’m glad I stopped in, and if chance allows some day I may swing by the John Wayne Alamo in far western Texas, built for shooting his movie — more than one person has told me that the movie set feels more like the real Alamo than the real Alamo. If it’s not packed elbow-to-elbow with tourists, I might enjoy it more.
My fellow travelers for the trip that year were Donald Sidney-Fryer, Fabrice Tortey, and Brian Leno, and for my amusement as we stood in front of the huge bas relief in front of the fort, I looked at them and said:
“I don’t get it. Why do they always have Davy Crockett dressed like a hick?”
