14 March 2009

The Alamo


Al has come for a visit, which gives us an excuse to see all the touristy attractions in the area that we have not yet visited. Yesterday it was the Alamo. I don’t know when the last time was that I visited the Alamo, but I was unprepared for the emotional response at being back on this sacred ground.

Thanks to wild west legends (and Hollywood, of course) there have been many myths and tales that have arisen about the Alamo—aided a half century ago by the Disney-created cult of Davy Crockett—coonskin cap and all. In spite of it all, the Alamo is a place that inspires quiet and awe. We didn’t use to use the term “freedom fighters” to describe the martyrs of the Alamo, but that is what we would call the defenders of this mission church today.

For the Alamo was a church—one of a string of missions built to minister to the needs of indigenous peoples as well as new immigrants. The visitor to the Alamo is reminded of this fact when stepping through the door, as visitors are reminded to remove their hats and cautioned against photography.

The names of the defenders of the Alamo are all recorded within the shrine, and I was impressed once again with the backgrounds of this motley crew. There were citizens of Germany, Wales, and England, to be sure, but a large number of soldiers from Ireland and Scotland. And immigrants to this frontier land from many states of the United States. Also, there was a single black “freed man,” John, whose last name was not recorded.

The Alamo is small and modest, but its story has captured the imaginations of people from 1836 to the present day. There was a lump in my throat as I left.

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