Funky Texas Traveler

Be a traveler, not a tourist. Dig deeper, learn more.

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Oct 12 2016

Camping – Why I Love Vacationing in a Tin Can

trailer-truck-angled-with-text Camping - Why I Love Vacationing in a Tin Can

One of the first pages I wrote when I created the Funky Texas Traveler was how to live life with an adventurous attitude, even if time, money or bravery is lacking.

For me that meant getting out of the chain hotels and tourist traps and getting in touch with my adventurous self.  The experience has turned me into a fan of camping.

How do you feel about camping:

Camping is a like eating raw tomatoes – you either like it or hate it.  Every time I tell one of my Jazzercise instructors that I’m going camping for the weekend, she looks at me like I’ve had a psychotic break.  Yet for every person who hates camping, you have someone else who can’t wait to go.

Last Friday morning, my husband and I had just finished loading up our travel trailer and  putting our bikes in the back of our  truck for a weekend in on the south shore of Lake Bastrop near Austin.    A businessman drove past in a luxury SUV, rolled down the window and shouted “Take me with you!”



Camping can have that kind of effect on people.  Just because you are not a rugged outdoor person, don’t assume camping is not for you.  In a perfect world, I used to think that I’d drive around in my Subaru Outback towing  a little Casita Spirit behind me like a turtle shell and I’d stop at whatever sunny rock looked promising.  In the real world, it took a while to find my camp persona.

Finding your camp personality:

Like Goldilocks and the three bears, I tried tent camping –  a little too buggy and hard to find a soft place to sleep.  Then I moved up to a tiny 1992 pop-up camper so I could tow it behind my small SUV.  You should have seen me parked at a Buccees next to all the big pick-up trucks pulling huge 5th wheel trailers.  But I didn’t like the trek to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  Next I got a hybrid pop-up with bathroom and kitchen, microwave, and other luxuries.  It slept up to eight  people and was great for family and friend vacations.  Then our friends started getting their own campers and we didn’t need all the space so we got a little vintage cruiser with a queen size bed, big bathroom and retro red and white decorations – just perfect.  This past weekend was our maiden voyage.

What are my top reasons for camping?

burnout-sharpened Camping - Why I Love Vacationing in a Tin Can
Passing burned trees around Bastrop from fires in 2015

Unlike people who stay in hotels,  camp people expect to meet fellow travelers.  You can sit under a tree or your awning  and people feel comfortable and  safe walking around and talking to strangers.  Many people have dogs or unique set-ups and you have a reason to connect.  “Where you headed?” and “Where have you been?” “What kind of dog do you call THAT?”   I love to talk to RV full-timers or the park hosts.  They have usually closed the book on one phase of their life and are hungry to see what else is out there.  And they seemed to have released the need for more stuff

You get to take off your electronic leash.  You might use your phone to check the weather or investigate whether that was poison sumac you just brushed up against, but you see don’t many adults glued to their email or Facebook or kids playing video games.  People are moving around and socializing.

focus-on-lucy-1 Camping - Why I Love Vacationing in a Tin Can
Lucy, the ersatz “Husky” headed to camp,

Our Latest Campout:

For example, this past weekend, we met up the  Happy Campers on their annual fall camp out.  A little background on The Happy Campers – it started with a group of people who grew up together in Baytown, on the Texas coast.  Many later went to University of Texas together.  In 1972, as starving college students, they started getting together for camp outs, the only entertainment they could afford.  Turned out they loved it and the happy campers started attracting more and more people.   We got sucked into the group about five years ago.

During the day, part of the group hiked the north shore loop.  Some of us took our bikes on a nine mile trail ride, others drove into Bastrop to walk around the town square.  Some just sleep in the sun and drank beer.

On Saturday night,  we all gathered for a chili supper under the stars supplemented by whatever side dish or dessert you wanted to share.  There were are 35 of us all together, ranging in age from 2-year-old Samson to 90-year-old Howard.   Somebody picked up a bunch of glow sticks and  the kids ran around pretending that they were some kind of explorers.  Some of the little boys tried to convince me that my 25-pound blue-eyed mutt (helplessly shy  Lucy) was really a courageous Alaskan husky.    We pulled our lawn chairs into a circle, watch the kids use their imagination to play instead of their thumbs,   pointed out constellations, had a sing- along and reconnected.

lava-lady-bloom Camping - Why I Love Vacationing in a Tin Can
The Virgin de Guadalupe Lava Lamp which always blesses our campsite.

Lucy, my husband and I wandered back to our campsite around 11 pm.  It was a mostly clear, quiet night with temperatures in the high 60’s.  We poured another glass of wine, sat outside and soaked up the silence.  And then we went inside and opened all of our windows and fell asleep, lulled by  the night sounds and the fresh air.  Try doing that at a La Quinta.

signature Camping - Why I Love Vacationing in a Tin Can

Filed Under: Attitude, Camping, Past, Places · Tagged: Bastrop, Camping, south shore harbor, travel trailer

Jul 14 2016

Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel Lighthouse

A_view_of_So_Padre_Island_from_atop_the_Lighthouse_in_Port_Isabel_TX._8147249508-300x194 Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel Lighthouse
View of South Padres Island from Lighthouse by By Isaac “AYE MIRA” Sanchez from Austin, TX, CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

I hadn’t set out to climb the Port Isabel lighthouse so why was I gripping the cold rail on its  highest landing, trying to slow down my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out and tumble down the 75 iron steps?  Ted was to blame.  And it was getting worse.  This last landing was too small for more than one person to stand on.  There were two people up in the light chamber above me who needed to come down and I was blocking their way.  It would be humiliating to climb back down the stairs when it was obvious I had come all this way and decided not to climb the short ladder to the chamber.  “We’ll stand back against the glass so you can on climb up.  Then we can climb down,” the couple said.  They were waiting.  In a fog, I let go of the landing railing and reached up to grab the last ladder.  My strappy sandals made my feet wobble on the rungs.  Pulling myself up over the lip of the chamber floor, I faced the friendly couple.  They loved this lofty view of South Padre Island  across the Laguna Madre.  They pointed out their family five stories below on the lighthouse hill.  I faked enthusiasm until they climbed back down one by one. Then I exhaled and walked quickly around the circumference of the light chamber, looking out and across but never down.


lighthouse Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel LighthouseOf the 16 lighthouse structures still around, the Port Isabel Lighthouse was the only one open to the public.  Built in the early 1850’s, it had been manned by both Union and Confederate soldiers during the Civil War.  I walked over to the lighthouse just to get an inside view of it.  My 90-year-old mother was “at work” that Tuesday at the dog resale shop on the island.  I had just been let go after 36 years in Houston media and was visiting my mom for a few days to reboot.  Walking around old Port Isabel was a chore for her, so I took advantage of her work schedule to drive across the Queen Isabella causeway and meander.

“It is $2.50 to climb the lighthouse and there are just two people ahead of you so you can go right up,” said a young woman sitting  at a desk partially hidden by the first spiral of the stairs.  I was ready with an excuse when Ted caught me unaware.  “Pay the lady and get your ass up those steps.”  “Can I climb in these shoes?”  I asked the woman, hoping not.  “Sure,” she said as she reached out for the money.

The cool concrete walls hugged the  spiral stair structure.   As I counted off the first few dozen stairs, I was surprisingly calm in this cocoon.  “Maybe I’ve outgrown this height thing,” I thought.  “No,” panic answered, “Just waiting for the halfway point, right about …now!”  I went from bounding up the steps with one hand on the railing to carefully placing my foot on each step and gripping on to the support with both hands in an uncomfortable sideways position.  Upward progress almost stopped as I mimicked the slow, halting way my mom handled the stairs of her beach house.  When I got to that last landing, the friendly couple took over from Ted to get me up that last ladder.

I was still shaky on the way down and while walking over to the little beer garden in the shade of the lighthouse.  After a glass of wine to settle down, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Ted’s mom, Katie.  “Happy Ted Tuesday.  In true Ted fashion, I faced my fear of heights and climbed the Port Isabel Lighthouse by myself.  I was scared to death but I did it.  Grab life, face fear!”

full-frame-ted-e1468513735587 Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel LighthouseI had not heard from Katie in many years but now we had been in regular contact since two weeks before Christmas.  I got a text early that Saturday morning to call her.  “Ted was killed last night,” she said when she answered my call.  I did not think I’d heard her right.   Ted was a recent graduate of the A&M maritime college in Galveston and was working on tugboats out of Corpus Christi.  He worked one week on and one week off.  He was at home in Galveston and died in a one-car accident near Jamaica beach the night before.

“I need you to break it to Molly so she can tell Clark,” said Katie.  Clark was Ted’s best friend. Clark and his wife had had just had a baby and Ted was to be baby Everett’s godparent.  My daughter Molly was part of this foursome that hung around together.  They had reconnected when Molly returned from five years in southern California.

“Call me,” I texted Molly.  She immediately called back.  “Is it Earl?”  Earl was our very old terrier that defies the years.   There was no way to make this news any better.  “No, It’s Ted Harrison.  He was killed last night.  Katie would like you to break it to Clark.”  The silence was her brain seizing up before it had to turn in a new direction.  “No Mom. No, not Ted, It can’t be Ted,” Molly was crying.

The next few days are still out of focus.  A gathering happened at Katie’s house.  George, a family friend from the Cleburne Cafeteria showed up and filled the small kitchen with pans of fried chicken, squash casserole, macaroni and cheese, green beans and other comfort food.  After all, this was Greek gathering and there is always lots of food.

Ted’s little sister worshiped her big brother and took videos of him.  Here was one of Ted screaming at Nia to “MAKE COOKIES” like piratical cookie monster. At Christmas, he had been surprised with a Yeti cooler and could not stop shouting the f-word in delight.  “It’s a f—- Yeti!” he roared.

w0143210-1_20151215 Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel LighthouseAnnunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral in Montrose was filled to capacity with people up in the balconies and leaning  against  the walls across the back and down each side of the church.   Ted’s mother, father, brother, sister and yaya all stood on the altar before the service for over two hours as we all  lined up to hug them and pass by Ted in his open casket,  dressed in his maritime dress whites.

That crazy Zach Galifanakis beard was gone.  He still had that beard in the last photos from the night he died.  Three priests presided over the ceremony.  A bus took Galveston friends to the cemetery and back to the church for a reception.  I had known Ted as a little boy.  That day, through his friends and family I was meeting Ted the man, who lived life full out.ted-collage Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel Lighthouse

“Tuesdays are going to be the hardest,” Katie said when we had a moment to hug.  “He’d call me each week as he shipped out or came back.”

A few days later, my son, Shane and I went to Galveston to spend some of the Christmas vacation.  I was conscious of how lucky I was to have my son healthy and here with me.

Most nights, something in me triggers a period of wakefulness around 3 am.  Tonight it was thinking about Katie and how hard Tuesdays would be from now on.  I reached for my phone and set a recurring reminder for every Tuesday at 8a.  Since then, every Tuesday, Katie and I exchange a text about what each “Ted Tuesday” holds for us.  It has become a mid-week mediation on how life is to be lived, dreams acted on, and fears faced.  Ted was to blame for trek to the top of the lighthouse.  May he curse me with many more motivations.

 

signature Ted Tuesday and the Port Isabel Lighthouse

Filed Under: Attitude, Places, South Padre Island, Texas · Tagged: fear of heights, Port Isabel Lighthouse, Ted Harrison

Jun 27 2016

Road Ramble 2016 – Pre-trip Planning

Thursday, June 9, 2016  Pre-Trip Planning with “Rat-Killing”

For anyone who was a fan of KIKK Radio in the 70’s and the 80’s, you’ll remember Happy Harvey T.  He was the first to arrive and the last to leave any KIKK appearance and was so visible throughout the Texas Gulf Coast, many listeners thought he owned the station.  When Harvey came in each Wednesday morning to find out what was happening that weekend, he’d make a list and “get to his rat killing.” I still use that expression when I’m down to the wire on a project or a trip.

chair-with-rooster-e1467043863650-300x300 Road Ramble 2016 - Pre-trip PlanningI’ve packed my bags, printed my maps (going some places with spotty GPS), confirmed our reservations and gassed up the car.  I’ve even gotten my road food – Jalapeno Cheetos that I only crave when I’m on a road trip.  Even though my 17-year old dog Earl is blind and deaf, he smelled the Cheetos the morning and thought he was going too.  If I’m quiet, he won’t even know I’ve left without him.

I set up my new camp chair and sat in it for the first time.  One of the best parts of planning  is getting something new purchased just for that occasion.  Remember the new notebook binders for the first day or school and the new bathing suit for the first beach trip?  Taking my turquoise camp chair out of its bag was like opening a brand new box of crayons without the wonderful waxy smell.


Wednesday, June 8, 2016  – Figuring Out My Iphone:

I’m lucky that Rindy will be along to document the first few days of the trip but after that,  it is all on me.  Landscape shots are great but when I remember the experience through pictures, it’s the people I want to see.  That means learning how to do selfies better.    It was serendipitous that I was having lunch and the waitress overheard my friend and I talking about taking selfies with your Iphone.  The waitress told me that you can snap a selfie with the volume button on your phone or with the volume control on your earbuds/microphone.  I tried it and she was right and so much easier.  That sent me on-line to get more selfie tips about lighting, angle and composition.

A blog by Serenity Caldwell called Ten Tips for Taking Great Iphone Photos gave me a crash course on upping my photo quality.  Here’s a few lessons I intend to use immediately:

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  1.  Use the iPhone camera shortcut

  2. Target your shooting mode around your end result – i.e. use square for Instagram rather than crop

  3. Turn on your grid option and use the rule of thirds by going to settings-photos & camera – grid

  4. Turn off your flash

  5. Slide the exposure meter to brighten (or darken) images by tapping on dark areas until sun symbol appears and sliding up and down

  6. Tap and hold your subject on your viewfinder until lock appears

  7. To get good pictures when your subject or Iphone is moving,  shoot in burst mode by tapping and holding  down the shutter button (or volume up button)

It’s also time to load up music and audio books for solo driving.  Bill Bryson is a good storyteller for long road trip but I think I’ve exhausted most of his output.  Off to meet a friend for coffee who may have some good suggestions outside my normal authors or let me know what you think I should “read” while I’m a prisoner of the white lines.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016:  Pre-Trip Prep:  Over-packing for New Orleans

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Image From Pixabay

I probably have three times the amount of clothes and shoes that I need for this trip currently laid out  and I’m still writing myself notes of what else I need to take.  I’ve got the rest of today to keep adding and then tomorrow, I start the brutal culling.   So often, we women pack all those cute resort clothes we see in Vogue and Vanity Fair and then those same outfits tag us as outsiders when we get where we are going.  That was the case on my last two visits to Key West.  Cut-offs, t-shirts or fishing shirts and Kino sandals were the uniform for the locals.  Anything dressier looked like you were trying to hard.

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Image of Bourbon Street by Rindy Jones Greer

Of course, New Orleans is pretty forgiving.  If it’s got colors, feathers or leather insets, it blends.  We had such a strange and wonderful visit to New Orleans last July, it will be hard to over dress.  On that trip, we helped twelve Elvis impersonators make a grand entrance onto Frenchmen Street.  That was after we’d met two cross-dressers at the Golden Lantern and were invited to return for a late night drag show.  We’ve got a high standard to meet for this trip.

I just got an email for a former co-worker and close friend who is unexpectedly in Houston tonight on a business trip and wants to meet for a drink at the Hotel Zaza.  It will be good to catch on my former corporate life and savor how nice it is to have the freedom and lack of responsibility to take this trip.

Monday, June 6, 2016: Pre-Trip Prep:  Gearing Up 20160606_090208-300x225 Road Ramble 2016 - Pre-trip Planning

Starting a 3000 mile road trip with a two-inch v shaped slash in the side wall of your front drivers side tire is not a good idea. So, I started today at Discount Tire getting my front two tires replaced because my Subaru is all wheel drive and tires all have to match in tread design, depth, etc. That’s something I didn’t know but over the last two weeks I’ve had all kinds of check ups and tuneups for the car and myself and both of us are good to go, as soon as I get my tires.

It’s Monday, June 6 and I’ve got three and a half days to finish preparations for the trip and secure the home front for husband, adult kids and dogs. On Friday, I drive across Houston to the Heights to pick up my road dog for the first leg of the trip to New Orleans. Rindy will be a great companion for the first three days in the Big Easy. She is a gifted photographer and we call her our own personal papparazzi. Rindy and I are both easily distracted and redirected so we are prone to travel down sideroads and stop at roadside attractions.

Sticking to the travelers attitude checklist, I’ve been listening for ideas of things to experience. At a goodbye party for the friend now living in Asheville, North Carolina, I met a couple who loved the plantations on the River Road between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. Robert mentioned that he and Annette really were drawn to a creole homestead called “The Laura Plantation”. A few days later, I was hunting through some books at a thrift shop and found the diary of Laura Locoul Gore, the woman for whom the plantation was named. She wrote the memoir in 1936 when she returned to see the abandoned plantation after she had spent many years in St. Louis. Laura lived until she was 101 years old and recounted the lifestyle and culture of old creole Louisiana.  She covered the disruption of the civil war, the influx of Anglo planters and businessmen and dissolution of the family-run sugar plantations. Often,  the oldest female served  as the president of these family businesses. I re-read the memoir last weekend and have been planning our route to make a stop at the Laura Plantation. After two readings, I feel like I know Laura. The voice you hear in her memoir is so contemporary, a young woman wanting to be released from the strictures of the old ways.

The continuing rainstorms that are keeping Houston juicy (one meteorologist’s description) made it easy to spend Saturday checking an old road atlas to get an overview of the entire trip and going online to map the specifics. Google has not been my friend in this effort. Something has changed and it is hard, if not impossible, to change the route to take in stops like the Laura Plantation in Louisiana and Lookout Mountain in Alabama. It was easier to see on the atlas that trying to take the Natchez Trace and spend the night in Tishomingo State Park was going to add many hours to the trip from New Orleans to Asheville, North Carolina. Also, it could be late in the day when I got to the park which gave me no time to explore the waterfalls and old rope bridge. The stay in Tishomingo was going to be my first night as a solo traveler, having put my friends on planes headed back to Texas from New Orleans. Amid the glowing reviews for the isolated cabins built by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), one review of hundreds said his cabin had a roach problem. ROACH?!?! Friends know I have two irrational fears – roaches that fly (and I believe all of them harbor that skill) and heights. If I saw too many that night in the CCC cabin, it wouldn’t be out of the question for me to spend the night in my Subaru and let the roaches enjoy the $70 per night lodging. After all, to the roaches, I would be just some transient.

Significantly extra travel time, no time to explore Tishomingo State Park and the possibility of waking up at 3 in the morning with a six-legged bedmate made me rethink this day of travel. I got out the atlas to look at likely routes then used that vague idea to go to mapquest to look at some alternative Monday destinations. At this point, I have to say that I have a little distrust of mapquest because 15 years ago, I used it to map a trip Riudoso, NM and it left out two hundred miles in the mileage calculation. I’d decided on a little town close to Lookout Mountain in far northeastern Alabama. I made the reservation in what sounds like a B&B that caters to honeymooners but I’ll try not to bother any of the other couples. I just take my bottle of wine and my Poldark novel and explain to them that my husband and I have been happily married for 40 years because we travel separately. Best wishes!

I’ve also been laying out my gear in my son’s old bedroom. So far, here’s what I’ve got:

1. Blow up mattress so I can bed down anywhere.  I love sleeping on a good air mattress.  A few years ago,  I went to a book club meeting at a home around Canyon Lake and slept on a air mattress in a n unfurnished downstairs office. We had been reading “Empire of the Southern Moon” about the Comanche’s last stand and many of the raids and battles had been fought in Texas.  Some happened close to where we staying. A storm blew in during the night. There were no curtains on the office  windows that looked out onto a rocky wooded hillside. The tree branches  close to the house beat on the window and from my mattress on the floor, it felt like I was hiding from the marauding ghosts of Quanah Parker’s braves, still fighting to hold on. I loved sleeping low on the floor and looking up and out the windows as the lightning illuminated the hillside.

2, Beach towel and folding lawn chair for a quick catnap at any lake, beach or park that may look inviting.

3. Soft-sided insulatateed cooler with a camo cover so I blend in with my fellow rednecks as I travel the south in my hippie car. In the cooler – wine and real cream for my coffee.

4. Pepper/Mace spray, flashlight, toolkit, first aid kit, window breaking tool, oil funnel, extra motor oil and my trusty bear whistle.

5. Good luck backpack from my daughter that has seen her through her travels in Peru, Australia, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Costa Rica.

6. Travel diary and my tablet and keyboard.

Road Ramble 2016 – Asheville, NC – Read More
Road Ramble 2016 – Mississippi and Alabama at Lookout Mountain – Read More
Road Ramble 2016 – New Orleans and Driving Through Louisiana – Read More

 

signature Road Ramble 2016 - Pre-trip Planning

Filed Under: Attitude, Life's Detours, Places · Tagged: Pre-Trip Planning, Road Trips

May 05 2015

Looie From Lubbock Rides Away

11201502_10204183911374367_1298763155160343717_n-217x300 Looie From Lubbock Rides Away
Ray Louise Wilson Ware

She was born Ray Louise Wilson in Lubbock in a house on 17th street just blocks from Texas Tech.  The house is still there minus the cow her mother Mary bought to give fresh milk for Louise and her brothers Vaughn Ed, James Amos and Ben Lee. The boys grew into big boys and big men, yet Louise corralled, and cared for them fiercely after their mother died when she was 16.

Looie went to the University of Texas in Austin where met Henry Ware in a boarding house.  Henry was back from WWII and a year and a half in a German prisoner of war camp, held as a captured B17 pilot.  He must have felt like a west Texas wind had blown in a breath of fresh air.  They spent the next 62 years together.

Henry brought Louise to Houston and then to Bellaire where three Ware families bought homes on Jaquet Street and nearby Post Oak Lane.  She worked as a medical technician, had four babies, and was active in all the things that post war couples did to celebrate normality after the war years – garden club, bridge games, and progressive dinners.


Her career as an activist and an advocate began when her daughter Pam suffered severe complications in the measles epidemic.  After working with Blue Bird Clinic and the opening of the Houston Speech and Hearing Center, Louise fought successfully for Pam’s right to be educated in public school.

Louise committed her passion and energy to whatever project she undertook.  With Girl Scouts, she went from scout leader to the board of directors for San Jacinto Girl Scouts, teaching girls and her youngest tag-along son Amos to love the outdoors, canoeing and sailing.

She got involved in Bellaire politics, was elected council member, and ultimately became the first female mayor in Harris County.  She served during the recall years when Bellaire was deciding its future direction.  She rode a moped to city hall during the gas crisis and was often seen zipping along South Rice.  As a mother, a friend and now a mayor, she led by example.

After her term as mayor ended, she joined the Metropolitan Transit Authority, traveling all over the country and the world to seek out transit systems that would work for the Houston area.  She was the first female MTA board member and represented the smaller cities in Harris County

Along the way, she worked hard for the Friends of the Bellaire Library and for the Bellaire Historical Society – running used book sales and putting on antique fairs in Paseo Park to raise money to things not covered in the city budgets.

Louise was the adventurous and straight shooting grandma to her eight grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.  She kissed the boo boos when they were little and taught them and hundreds of other Bellaire kids to swim.  When her grandkids grew up, she was there to help  face bigger challenges.  She was Meemaw to her children, her grand and great grand kids.  She was Looie to in-laws and outlaws.  She was Aunt Looie to nieces and nephews.

Looie loved and was loved.  She left a big legacy to her family, her friends, and community.  When you visit the  Bellaire Library, the gazebo on the Great Lawn, the trolley in the Paseo Park, use the bus or the light rail system, have a special needs child who gets to attend the same schools as her brothers and sisters,  you are sharing in that  legacy.  What Henry Ware experienced back in 1946 in that Austin boarding house changed and renewed us all.  Looie, Louise, Meemaw – we are glad to have known you.

Live Forever:  A song to sing Looie home performed by another Lubbocker.

signature Looie From Lubbock Rides Away

Filed Under: Attitude, Life's Detours · Tagged: First female Bellaire in Harris County Texas, First female mayor of Bellaire Texas, First Female member of the Harris County Metropolitan Transit Authority, Henry L. Ware

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