[October 14, 2024] Our unexpected discovery of an abandoned, old town north of Abilene, Texas, near Lake Fort Phantom-Hill was something special for my friend David and me. We’d heard from others in our neighborhood about lost towns scattered throughout the area and within driving distance of our home.
And there she was, sitting pretty and waiting for us to find her as we rode our dirt bikes, looking for something interesting. There were maybe twenty buildings; most were simple wood framed, and several had collapsed inwards, making it hard to figure out their original purpose. These were the real old West Towns of lore.
It was the summer of 1968 and the band Steppenwolf had released their song “Born to Be Wild” on a single record. It was both popular and countercultural, denoting a motorcycle feel. We loved that song and taught ourselves to whistle the tune. We were “bikers,” well, not really, but that was the best we could conjure up for a reason to ride the back roads of central Texas. We were looking for adventure, that elusive but necessary part of our very soul.
Covered in dust and rust, this old west town had been abandoned, probably during the late 1930s, like so many of their citizens were, as other Texans had done elsewhere, heading to the bigger cities to find stable employment as their copper mining played out. On the edge of town, there was a small, barely distinguishable cemetery. No wooden crosses survived, they’d rotted or been used for firewood or stolen, but large rocks had marked what may have been the final resting place of some of the townsfolk.
An old man – everyone over 30 was old to me – came slowly walking towards us with a tall cowboy-like hat. He looked like Hoss on the Bonanza TV show from the 60s. We were startled. “You boys from around here?” he asked in an unrecognizable, not Texan, and heavy accent. He unexpectedly smiled at us. His eyes were sparkling green, in contrast to his overall appearance. I could tell we were welcome just by his demeanor. Being only 16, we had little intent to stick around and get into trouble, so we asked which way was the easiest way back to the highway and left.
He never told us his name, and that is something I miss. Before he told us the way back, he gave us a warning about the old abandoned copper mining towns. He said ghosts walked the streets at sunset and would carry off stray dogs and hover over teenage love couples. David and I looked at each other like, “What the heck?” It was already getting late in the day; we could tell by the angle of the sun; kids didn’t own watches and cell phones were not yet invented.
One of our neighbors had talked to us before we left home and said that some old Indians were living ”up thatta way.” These Indians were likely originally from the Apache or Wichita tribes, as they’d been in this area and, in the last century, had ranged freely up into the Texas panhandle.
There were also rumors of Franciscan missionaries locally who converted many of the Indian tribes to Christianity but were driven off as the Apaches expanded southwards. We didn’t meet any Indians, but the old man self-proclaimed himself to be a Cajun Texan… whatever that was.
David thought I’d lost my mind, leaving this old town just as things were starting to look up in the excitement department. Maybe I watched too many television shows where cowboys and Indians fought with guns and hand-to-hand combat and were taking scalps of each other. I was outta there. We hopped on our bikes, whistling Born to Be Wild as we navigated the rutted back roads and dodged a few rattlesnakes. David yelled, “Don’t get off your bike, there’re ‘rattlers’ everywhere.”
I was to live in Texas for many years, except for my time in the Army. After graduating from “Tech,” I’d travel north to Oklahoma for more college at Oklahoma State. Looking back, I believe Texas was the best, most friendly, most adventurous place I’ve ever lived. Texas remains the land of the free, and that’s an envious position to hold.
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NOTE: See all my letters here: https://www.theleadermaker.com/granddaughter-letters/
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Very lovely letter. This entire series is wonderful and I’ve enjoyed them immensely. 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍.
Sir, you have a great website. And these letters are wonderful.
🙏 Jerome, right! I’m glad that these “Letters to My Granddaughter “ are continuing for now. They are the best series written for this website and are a motivational tool for anyone wanting to communicate with their offspring. Let’s continue to encourage more and that they don’t stop at 100. 🙏
“Meet me in Texas”
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Yep, remember the letter about the horse Gen. Satterfield rode as a boy that nearly killed him? Great story.
We are in interesting times today in America with a very divided nation. Gen. Satterfield shows us how to be united and focused on our goals. This is not something that politicians like to hear, especially those who are against free speech – like we just heard from Hillary Clinton and John Kerry saying the 1st Amendment is getting in the way of their truth. His letter today is just one example of one of many. So, for those here reading his granddaughter’s letter, please pay attention. You might just learn something.
Fantastic letter to Gen. Satterfield’s granddaughter.
🇨🇦 I may not be from Texas but I do love Texas. 🇨🇦
Ron, Gen. Satterfield has lived all over but I believe his real home is in Texas. That’s just me thinking out loud. Texas is sure a big state and with diverse climate. My cousins live in Lubbock- where Gen. Satterfield went to “Tech” – and they love it there. Low taxes, small govt, open carry guns, safe neighborhoods, clean, polite citizens, etc. That sure is enticing. Unlike New York or other NE states with rude, nasty people walking around sulking. Hmmmm I wonder what makes the difference?
“Don’t mess with Texas.”
Got that right!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, well, well…..we are now reading some of the late teenage letters that give us a tiny bit more info on Gen. Satterfield. And it’s a great read. And what are they? The letters are about his adventures. Remember those early letters? Indeed that is what he was looking for, even as a young kid. And here we are nearing the end of this series. Thanks Gen. Satterfield for sharing your early life with us.
Best of the best. Thank you, Gen. S. for sharing your experiences.
Gen. Satterfield’s letters to his granddaughter certainly have me hooked into reading them and appreciating them, each one. They stand alone and teach us a lesson in how to mature and grow. And to be humble with others and why we should do so. I have also begun writing letters like these except that I write mine in long hand and out them into a box that I keep in my closet. I do that because I’m not yet married but one day I will marry and have children. All the better that I have these letters ready, for when my kids grow up, I wish that have some curiosity about me and maybe, just maybe, they can learn something useful and not learn all their lessons the hard way like I did. These letters are inspiring and that’s the main point I get from them. Inspire to motivate to teach our children and grandchildren to be good young men and women, to ignore fads and fashions, to adopt all those proven yet ancient lessons on how to be a person worthy of a good life. And, YES, I recommend Gen. Satterfield’s book “55 Rules for a Good Life.”
https://www.amazon.com/55-Rules-Good-Life-Responsibility/dp/1737915529/
🇺🇸 Patriot 🇺🇸
🙏 Godly 🙏
🎶 Talented 🎶
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This is what keeps me coming back to read and re-read Gen. Satterfields blog.
Sir, great letter. Thx.
Mike, as you well know, regular readers can appreciate the nuances of these letters and learn that to be successful, one has to be able to focus on their most important goals.
More great letters coming our way. ✍️
“ Covered in dust and rust, this old west town had been abandoned, probably during the late 1930s, like so many of their citizens were, as other Texans had done elsewhere, heading to the bigger cities to find stable employment as their copper mining played out. On the edge of town, there was a small, barely distinguishable cemetery. No wooden crosses survived, they’d rotted or been used for firewood or stolen, but large rocks had marked what may have been the final resting place of some of the townsfolk.” — Gen. Doug Satterfield has once again nailed it. He is giving us serious insight into what makes him tick and if any young person wants to get an idea on how to think, this is a good place to begin. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed these letters to Gen. Satterfield’s granddaughter, as I’m sure she has. Thanks for writing this inspirational series and I look forward to the next series. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
🎊 I see that we have a lot of new people here in the leadership forum making note of how much they enjoyed this letter to Gen. Doug Satterfield’s granddaughter. WELCOME! 🧑🧑🧒🧒 Gen. Satterfield has made his blog a family friendly place to read and comment. Take your time, read his blog, comment, get feedback, and spend time thinking over tge ideas here and, if you want, ask questions. 👀
Yes, Mr. Savage, I noticed that as Wei and goid for them. Plenty of opportunities to learn.
❤️ Most loving letter, once again!! ❤️
As one of Gen. Satterfield’s longest-running fans, and commentator, I will admit that this series is tops to all. The only sad part is that the series must come to an end soon. 🤧🤧🤧🤧
Again, another most loving, wonderful, pragmatic, useful, down-to-earth letter to your granddaughter that she will forever treasure from her “poppy” grandfather. Sir, well done. I’m proud to say I enjoyed each of your letters and ask now that you put 5hem into book format. I’m convinced folks will have an interest in reading them, not just your fans here on your blog.
Welcome Natasha and all our new bloggers online today.
Thank you for welcoming so many new commentaries onto your website. This is @ great place to discuss ideas, make suggestions, banter politely, and learn new ideas.
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BEST LOVE LETTERS
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