"Among the fifty or so Texan survivors of the siege of the Alamo was Joe, the personal slave of Lt. Col. William Barret Travis. First interrogated by Santa Anna, Joe was allowed to depart (along with Susana Dickinson) and eventually made his way to the seat of the revolutionary government at Washington-on-the-Brazos. Joe was then returned to the Travis estate in Columbia, Texas, near the coast. He escaped in 1837 and was never captured. Ron J. Jackson and Lee White have meticulously researched plantation ledgers, journals, memoirs, slave narratives, ship logs, newspapers, personal letters, and court documents to fill in the gaps of Joe's story. "Joe, the Slave Who Became an Alamo Legend" provides not only a recovered biography of an individual lost to history, but also offers a fresh vantage point from which to view the events of the Texas Revolution"--
The story of the Alamo as told by Alamo Joe, the sole surviving American male, a 24 year old slave named Joe, and slave of Lt. Col. William Travis. This historical fiction novel vividly portrays not only the days leading up to the Alamo, but also the siege itself and its gruesome aftermath.
A New York Times bestseller! “Lively and absorbing. . ." — The New York Times Book Review "Engrossing." —Wall Street Journal “Entertaining and well-researched . . . ” —Houston Chronicle Three noted Texan writers combine forces to tell the real story of the Alamo, dispelling the myths, exploring why they had their day for so long, and explaining why the ugly fight about its meaning is now coming to a head. Every nation needs its creation myth, and since Texas was a nation before it was a state, it's no surprise that its myths bite deep. There's no piece of history more important to Texans than the Battle of the Alamo, when Davy Crockett and a band of rebels went down in a blaze of glory fighting for independence from Mexico, losing the battle but setting Texas up to win the war. However, that version of events, as Forget the Alamo definitively shows, owes more to fantasy than reality. Just as the site of the Alamo was left in ruins for decades, its story was forgotten and twisted over time, with the contributions of Tejanos--Texans of Mexican origin, who fought alongside the Anglo rebels--scrubbed from the record, and the origin of the conflict over Mexico's push to abolish slavery papered over. Forget the Alamo provocatively explains the true story of the battle against the backdrop of Texas's struggle for independence, then shows how the sausage of myth got made in the Jim Crow South of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. As uncomfortable as it may be to hear for some, celebrating the Alamo has long had an echo of celebrating whiteness. In the past forty-some years, waves of revisionists have come at this topic, and at times have made real progress toward a more nuanced and inclusive story that doesn't alienate anyone. But we are not living in one of those times; the fight over the Alamo's meaning has become more pitched than ever in the past few years, even violent, as Texas's future begins to look more and more different from its past. It's the perfect time for a wise and generous-spirited book that shines the bright light of the truth into a place that's gotten awfully dark.
A New York Times bestselling novel, modern historical classic, and winner of the TCU Texas Book Award, The Spur Award and the Wrangler Award for Outstanding Western Novel It’s 1836, and the Mexican province of Texas is in revolt. As General Santa Anna’s forces move closer to the small fort that will soon be legend, three people’s fates will become intrinsically tied to the coming battle: Edmund McGowan, a proud and gifted naturalist; the widowed innkeeper Mary Mott; and her sixteen-year-old son, Terrell, whose first shattering experience with love has led him into the line of fire. Filled with dramatic scenes, and abounding in fictional and historical personalities—among them James Bowie, David Crockett, William Travis, and Stephen Austin—The Gates of the Alamo is a faithful and compelling look at a riveting chapter in American history.
No one who has seen the iconic photograph can ever forget its emotional pull: a grinning Gene Stallings, hoisted into the air at midfield in the arms of his lifelong mentor, Paul “Bear” Bryant, moments after the final gun sounded for the 1968 Cotton Bowl. Stallings’s upstart Aggies delivered an unbelievable upset of Bryant’s Crimson Tide, a team that had dominated its SEC rivals under the leadership of a young quarterback who later achieved NFL fame, Kenny “Snake” Stabler. Yet the famous image captured on that memorable day is merely the culmination of a greater story. In Bebes and the Bear: Gene Stallings, Coach Bryant, and Their 1968 Cotton Bowl Showdown, Ron J. Jackson Jr. unpacks for readers the heartwarming journey of two coaches and their lifelong mutual respect and admiration. From the rocky, drought-plagued practice fields in Junction, Texas, in the summer of 1954, through the memorable 1967 autumn campaign that led both coaches to their highly publicized Cotton Bowl matchup, Jackson chronicles the story of Bryant, Stallings, and the two storied football traditions that bound them together. Based on hours of interviews with Stallings, his players, and other eyewitnesses and painstaking research in the archives at both Texas A&M University and the University of Alabama, Jackson has reconstructed the pivotal moments of play, the coaching decisions, and the athletic heroics that combined to create one of the most unforgettable moments in college football history.
Most writers and readers of history have at one time or another wished that they could have been at some particular defining event in history. Whether it was a moment of a great decision, a major turning point that changed everything, or simply an intriguing occurrence, many scholars and others have on occasion wished that they “could have been there.” Texas history provides infinite Lone Star episodes to consider, rooted in the widespread assumption that Texas is a colorful, unique, and exceptional place with larger-than-life heroes and narratives. Mary L. Scheer has assembled fifteen contributors to explore special moments in Texas history. The contributors assembled for this anthology represent many of the “all stars” among Texas historians: two State Historians of Texas, two past presidents of TSHA, four current or past presidents of ETHA, two past presidents of WTHA, nine fellows of historical associations, two Fulbright Scholars, and seven award-winning authors. Each is an expert in his or her field and provided in some fashion an answer to the question: At what moment in Texas history would you have liked to have been a “fly on the wall” and why? The choice of an event and the answers were both personal and individual, ranging from familiar topics to less well-known subjects. One wanted to be at the Alamo. Another chose to explore when Sam Houston refused to take a loyalty oath to the Confederacy. One chapter follows the first twenty-four hours of Lyndon Baines Johnson’s presidency after Kennedy’s assassination. Others write about the Dust Bowl coming to Texas, or when Texas Southern University was created. Their respective essays are not written as isolated occurrences or “moments,” but as causal developments presented within the larger social and political context of the period.
Remember the Alamo! is a slogan known worldwide for courage in battle against overwhelming odds. In that historic stand less than two hundred volunteers fought against five thousand soldiers for thirteen days. According to Joe, the only male survivor, all races and religions fought and died there. Lead by William Travis, Jim Bowie and Davy Crockett the Alamo defenders bravely made the ultimate sacrifice while suffering ever darkening days. Joe was severely wounded during the massacre but allowed to live because he spoke Spanish and could translate the terrifying words of the army general who relentlessly attacked the Alamo. General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna wanted the Alamo to become symbolic of hopelessness and certain death for anyone that opposed his reign of terror. That did not happen due to efforts of Susana Dickinson and Joe, a slave. This novel is inclusive of all races and religions just as Joe described. Its characters reflect the real personalities of Alamo defenders. It includes recently discovered facts about William Travis, Joe, Susana Dickinson, Davy Crockett and John, who was pitifully listed among the dead only as a black boy.
Films possess virtually unlimited power for crafting broad interpretations of American history. Nineteenth-century America has proven especially conducive to Hollywood imaginations, producing indelible images like the plight of Davy Crockett and the defenders of the Alamo, Pickett’s doomed charge at Gettysburg, the proliferation and destruction of plantation slavery in the American South, Custer’s fateful decision to divide his forces at Little Big Horn, and the onset of immigration and industrialization that saw Old World lifestyles and customs dissolve amid rapidly changing environments. Balancing historical nuance with passion for cinematic narratives, Writing History with Lightning confronts how movies about nineteenth-century America influence the ways in which mass audiences remember, understand, and envision the nation’s past. In these twenty-six essays—divided by the editors into sections on topics like frontiers, slavery, the Civil War, the Lost Cause, and the West—notable historians engage with films and the historical events they ostensibly depict. Instead of just separating fact from fiction, the essays contemplate the extent to which movies generate and promulgate collective memories of American history. Along with new takes on familiar classics like Young Mr. Lincoln and They Died with Their Boots On, the volume covers several films released in recent years, including The Revenant, 12 Years a Slave, The Birth of a Nation, Free State of Jones, and The Hateful Eight. The authors address Hollywood epics like The Alamo and Amistad, arguing that these movies flatten the historical record to promote nationalist visions. The contributors also examine overlooked films like Hester Street and Daughters of the Dust, considering their portraits of marginalized communities as transformative perspectives on American culture. By surveying films about nineteenth-century America, Writing History with Lightning analyzes how movies create popular understandings of American history and why those interpretations change over time.
Brown and Holley are interested in place and what makes people who they are. With particular interest in how people take the hand they’ve been dealt—fate, family, circumstance, luck—and craft a life for themselves, the authors celebrate the grit and gumption of these Texas originals. Introducing quirky characters and tenacious spirits, Holley’s stories seek out the personality of the small town while Brown’s photographs capture the essence of a changing landscape. Hometown Texas aims not to be nostalgic or sentimental but rather to show readers an unknown Texas—one that, while not vanishing, is certainly on the wane. Organized into five topographical, geographic, and cultural sections—East, West, North, South, and Central—three dozen stories and more than eighty complementary images work to create a parallel narrative to reveal what Brown has described as the “collective, various, remarkably complex soul that makes Texas unique.” Hometown Texas is an exploration across miles and cultures, of well-traveled roads and forgotten byways, deep into the heart of Texas.
In late February and early March of 1836, the Mexican Army under the command of General Antonio López de Santa Anna besieged a small force of Anglo and Tejano rebels at a mission known as the Alamo. The defenders of the Alamo were in an impossible situation. They knew very little of the events taking place outside the mission walls. They did not have much of an understanding of Santa Anna or of his government in Mexico City. They sent out contradictory messages, they received contradictory communications, they moved blindly and planned in the dark. And in the dark early morning of March 6, they died. In that brief, confusing, and deadly encounter, one of America's most potent symbols was born. The story of the last stand at the Alamo grew from a Texas rallying cry, to a national slogan, to a phenomenon of popular culture and presidential politics. Yet it has been a hotly contested symbol from the first. Questions remain about what really happened: Did William Travis really draw a line in the sand? Did Davy Crockett die fighting, surrounded by the bodies of two dozen of the enemy? And what of the participants' motives and purposes? Were the Texans justified in their rebellion? Were they sincere patriots making a last stand for freedom and liberty, or were they a ragtag collection of greedy men-on-the-make, washed-up politicians, and backwoods bullies, Americans bent on extending American slavery into a foreign land? The full story of the Alamo -- from the weeks and months that led up to the fateful encounter to the movies and speeches that continue to remember it today -- is a quintessential story of America's past and a fascinating window into our collective memory. In A Line in the Sand, acclaimed historians Randy Roberts and James Olson use a wealth of archival sources, including the diary of José Enrique de la Peña, along with important and little-used Mexican documents, to retell the story of the Alamo for a new generation of Americans. They explain what happened from the perspective of all parties, not just Anglo and Mexican soldiers, but also Tejano allies and bystanders. They delve anew into the mysteries of Crockett's final hours and Travis's famous rhetoric. Finally, they show how preservationists, television and movie producers, historians, and politicians have become the Alamo's major interpreters. Walt Disney, John Wayne, and scores of journalists and cultural critics have used the Alamo to contest the very meaning of America, and thereby helped us all to "remember the Alamo."
