I don't have any kind of an image to celebrate this day so it's a good excuse to run this snapshot of the Texas State Rifle Association National Match Team at Camp Perry. Sportsmen and ordinary citizens. Like golfers. These guys are patient, kind, long-suffering, generous, warm-hearted and good natured.
It was over and Santa Anna was chasing the remnants out of the territory or, failing that, trying to pin them so he could kill the last Texas Army in the field. He'd destroyed the Alamo garrison, executed the best Texan force at Goliad and put the anglo settlers to panic and chaos. He'd sent the girl he married in San Antonio packing to Mexico and picked up a slave famous for her beauty and personality, (The Yellow Rose of Texas), and was whiling away the afternoon in his tent when the crude and uncouth barbarians swarmed over the bulwark of packs and baggage. The Texicans had gone berserk and slaughtered anyone they could get their hands on with knives and clubs. In 18 minutes it was over and the tide of history had turned on a muddy little piece of ground near Buffalo Bayou. The criminals and rebels dismembered the establishment and became the victors of a new day.
To celebrate, I'm going to go shoot a little .45 bullseye practice. It's like golf, but with a pistol. I pray that war and rebellion never comes to my native land, but if it ever did, right or wrong, I'd be on the side of family and Texas.
God bless those rude and uncouth barbarians as they sleep in the soil of their beloved land. Remember the Alamo. Remember Goliad.
Power to the People.