Trumped Mirage
by Bob Zumwalt

“Grampa, Grampa, look at this!” six-year-old Katie shouted excitedly, as she waved the Sunday paper in my face. “Look, Grampa, this old steamboat is carrying the Victoria courthouse,” Katie babbled. “How can they do that?”

“Aw, that’s not real,” I harrumphed, “that’s just a picture. And it’s not even a photograph.”

“Is too real,” Katie asserted impishly, “that’s a real courthouse carried by that boat!”

“C’mon, Katie, think about it. Don’t you think the real courthouse, with all its stone, would swamp that poor boat?”

“Grampa, you can’t tell me that’s not real. It’s right here in the picture!”

You can’t argue with a six year old, you’ve got to refute them by an even more ridiculous example. I had the beginning of a good story line and hoped I could invent the rest on the fly.

“Katie,” I began, “let me tell you about the time a train carried the ocean liner Queen Mary. The great ship was standing on its keel.”

“That’s crazy,” Katie shouted, “the ship would just fall off on its side.”

“Not so fast, Katie, listen to how it’s done,” I replied, as I desperately sought a logical explanation for my equally ridiculous scenario.

“Tugboats towed the big ship into the Houston ship channel. Dozens of huge cranes lifted the big ship onto the train. Then, the ship’s boilers were started.”

“Steam from the boilers turned three huge gyroscopes. These gyroscopes would keep the ship upright and counter balance the inertial forces caused by the train’s motion. Katie, you remember from the Discovery Channel how gyroscopes keep spacecraft steady, don’t you?”

“Yes, Grampa, I remember that,” Katie answered, “that’s real cool!”

Heartened by my seemingly successful beginning, I continued my tale. “I actually saw this train, carrying the Queen Mary, as it went through the outskirts of Houston. Black smoke poured from the ship’s stacks, as the gyroscopes struggled to keep the ship balanced.”

For a moment, Katie seemed entranced at this idea. But she scowled and demanded, “Grampa, what if the train comes to an overpass?”

Whoops, I hadn’t thought of this! Fortunately, inspiration struck: “When there’s an overpass ahead, three rotor blades unfold and start spinning, like a big helicopter. This lifts the ship over the overpass.”

I reflexively wiped my forehead. I got past that one OK. Heck, I was even beginning to believe this story myself!

“Now, does my tall tale help you understand why the boat can’t be carrying the courthouse?” I confidently asked of Katie.

“No,” Katie gleefully responded, “but it does remind me why this picture in the paper is true. Remember that story on the Discovery Channel about anti-gravity machines? That’s how the boat can carry the heavy courthouse without sinking!”

I know when I’ve been counter trumped. “Hey, your Granma should be finished with those muffins she’s baking – let’s go get some!”

I received quite a few submissions for the first installment of “Texas Tall Tales” and one thing is certain, there’s no shortage of imagination in the Crossroads area. The interpretations of the imagery in the painting I did of the floating courthouse were both wild and varied.

Some people, like Bill Ochiltree from Port Lavaca and Claudia McCarty, read political meaning into the picture. While Bill saw the Republic of Texas seceding from the U.S. during a war with Canada, Claudia envisioned a world in the 28th century where America sells all its landmarks piecemeal to a great empire on the other side of the world. Claudia’s trippy contribution also had the courthouse transported, this time on a steamship called the  “Queen Latifah” whose crew referred to the constellation “Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah Winfrey’s couch” to guide their journey. Christina Collins, another writer taking the political route, conjured a tale where Uncle Sam trades the courthouse to China to finally balance a long-standing trade deficit. Christina, I guess I didn’t realize that either the trade deficit with our Eastern friends is so small that our humble courthouse could set things right or I just completely under-assessed its dollar value. Or maybe, just maybe, you know something about that courthouse’s worth that we don’t.

Crime, that dark brother of politics, was on the mind of a few people as well. Joe Wilson, from Cuero, claimed the courthouse was hijacked and taken to Hong Kong to sell. Joan Quattlebaum, a fine, fine writer from Port Lavaca, penned a story that addresses the mystery of the sudden disappearance of not just one courthouse but many courthouses along the Gulf Coast area. Her protagonist sees my painting as a clue to their whereabouts.

I was amazed at how every writer drew different meanings from the same picture. Carla J. Hobbs, from Wharton, thought that the courthouse was Dracula’s castle. Pamela Edge had Davy Crockett directing boat traffic from the top of a saddled dolphin and Susan Adcock had eight very large men carrying the courthouse away, all in the name of love.

Nancy Bentley, an author from Hallettsvile, not only wrote an entertaining piece starring Bruce Lee as America’s [1]favorite hero but also tucked in a touching note. The note stated that the picture inspired her to write for the first time since the untimely death of her daughter, three years ago. Thank you for sharing that Nancy. I know from personal experience that the act of creating, whether it’s a story, music or art can be healing in it’s own way.

I hope that new painting that will print Sunday, Sept. 28 helps inspire these writers and many more of you to take advantage of your gift. I look forward to the wondrous stories ahead. Remember, the stories should be based on today’s picture and be 500 words or fewer. The deadline for this installment will be Oct. 17.  

Here's a look at all the submissions, the winner has been picked and will also be in the Sunday, Sept. 28 Victoria Advocate.

The Hurricane

Submission by
By Joan P. Quattiebaum, Port Lavaca
I've never wanted to shoot a moose. Even if one was on my back porch eating my geraniums, I probably wouldn't shoot. Partly because I don't keep a gun, also because I've tried to avoid harming man or beast most of my life. If I had been inclined to do assorted wrongs, I would have asked Hamel Crenshaw to defend me. He was and still is not only a tough attorney but also a friend. Hamel retired in 2005, but kept his one room office in Hillsboro, Texas on the Courthouse Square. When he called me, I was in his office 15 minutes later. He was sitting in his old oak chair facing a pile of file folders and old newspapers. His eyes were sharp piercing blue under the thatch of white hair, in the bagit of forgetting meals, he was still thin. He loved a mystery, and apparently he had found one.
"this will interest you." he said, handing me an artists' rendetion of a courthouse riding on a paddlewheeler type riverboat, clippled from a paper. "Remember the courthouse of Indianola?" he said. "Out to sea, in a storm." I said. "Hurricane Victoria." "Maybe not." he replied. "What about the first courthouse at Lavaca? And how about the city of Edna's fine structure; too close to the lake at Texana for comfort." he grumbled." "What if the courthouses no longer visible still exist?" he said. "Stolen - removed - purloined - snatched - not destroyed." He was on a roll now so I didn't interrupt. "What if the old courthouses were loaded onto barges or paddle wheelers stolen from New Orleans or Vicksburg - then whisked away - to a far off foreign port of some strange country." he continued. He stopped and stood looking out the window toward the east, thinking. "You want me to help you investigate a series of kidnapped courthouses." I said, smiling a little. "Yes!" he said. Start with Hong Kong, then check out any changes to the horizon of Japan, smaller Asian ports, and lastly San Francisco. "Whoever sent me this clipping did not conceal the oriental flair evident in the sketch." he said. "We'll worry about the inland courthouses later." he went on. "Without water nearby, they're safe." Let's begin with Indianola, he said. "We'll go up the coast checking existing conditions county by county. Who knows when they'll strike again." That October day in 2005 was just the beginning. I'm studying the Chinese language now. There is a lot to learn.

Submission by
Carla J. Hobbz, Wharton

Dear Cousin Wayne in Georgia,
The weather here in Texas is getting "muggy-ugly" today because there is a storm named Gustav heading our way. Wow! Here I am on a stinky barge going no where fast. And there goes a really neat paddle wheeler boat going really fast to really somewhere! Mommies a zombie, you know, and is in a hurry to get home to eat. She's not interested in the boat going by. Bruce Lee is on stilts and cares more about his showing off for the little guys before he eats them. He's a zombie like Mommie. There are two pterodactyls looming over the paddle wheeler. They eat people, too. They are hoping the two men way up high will fall. Mommy's tummy is growling. I hope they don't hear. You know what? I bet that's Dracula's castle on the boat. He's probably moving it to a secret place so no one will try to eat him while he's asleep in his coffin. He's carrying his blood bank with him so he won't have to run out of his favorite drink when he wakes up tonight. I'm getting hungry. I wish this thing we are on could get a tug boat to push it. Mommy invited Robert Zavala, the famous newspaper writer to have supper with us. We don't want to be late. Writers are especially yummy! See you later alligator.
Your cousin,
Hurricane Carla

THE GREAT PADDLEWHEELER OF JUSTICE
By Bil Ochiltree

     Long before the massive battles between federal law enforcement agencies ended, the Republic of Texas broke away from the United States. Most of the other states soon followed. Texas was the first to outlaw all federal law agencies and laws and established a simple form of justice based on the golden rule. The other states soon followed and each voted to declare Texas the “State of Justice.”

       Washington DC was reduced to blazing piles of rubble as Homeland Security agents battled FBI, ATF, DEA, and the CIA.  It all started when the DEA planted two tons of cocaine in the basement of the Justice Department and then raided and confiscated the building. The DEA was unhappy with the Justice Department for the slow and inadequate prosecution of the US President.  The President had lied to congress about the scope and degree of the cheep prescription drugs being brought into the US from Canada, and had obtained a declaration of war against Canada using fabricated information provided by the Border Patrol and the CIA.  The battle with Canada was over in a week, but the occupation forces were so impressed with the lack of laws and chaos in Canada, that most of them refused to return to the US and were happily taken in by the Canadian public.      Back in Washington, the bureaucratic leaders of the Justice department ordered the Homeland Security and the CIA to attack the Justice Department building and to capture it by force.  The various federal agencies chose up sides and began bombing and firing at each other’s headquarters. In the five-year war, known as the “War of Laws” over a million law enforcement agents, bureaucrats, and politicians were killed. Strangely enough, during this period the stock market more than doubled and the American people flourished with the renewed gift of freedom and the pursuit of happiness.

        The new Republic of Texas built the Great Paddlewheeler of Justice and it cruised the rivers and shorelines of America dispensing simple and pure justice. The picture is of the Great Paddlewheeler arriving at the port of Hong Kong. The citizens of Hong Kong had recently obtained their independence from China by purchasing from the Chinese government some hundred billion dollars worth of worthless US Treasury notes that the Chinese had foolishly purchased in the early 2000 to secure the 2008 Olympics. The Olympics had been highly profitable for the Chinese, but there had been much criticism about events that required judgment calls, and the State of Hong Kong had requested the Great Paddlwheeeler of Justice to judge the upcoming 2020 Olympics to secure fairness for all the contestants.        & nbsp;   

The Finest Acquisition      &n bsp;       &nb sp;       &nbs p;         ;                 & nbsp;       &n bsp;       &nb sp;       &nbs p;         ;                 & nbsp;        by Claudia McCarty

After years of achieving wealth greater than all the post-millenium Arab countries combined, the Great Empire's insatiable appetite for all things American raged.  No, not just Elvis's sequined white jumpsuit. That acquisition satisfied the masses for merely a summer, and that was centuries ago.  Thirty years earlier; a mid-twentieth century craze delivered up Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water, flown in atop The Spruce Goose.  Now, the public's longing for novelty stirred again.  They emplored the government to deliver a find that would rival their northern neighbor's recent purchase of Mount Rushmore.  Before its' careful placment inside New Orleans' last great floating football stadium,  Roosevelt's moustache had crumbled, leaving a Hitler-like patch above the former president's twenty foot upper lip.  The president's unfortunate erosion did not affect the relic's value because nobody knew what Teddy really looked like. The spectacle was met with great enthusiasm.  Now, the Great Empire's citizenry set their sights on an even rarer specimen of the long extinct American culture.  As luck would have it, Mad Max, the self-proclaimed Planet Salvager Extraordinaire, texted from Texas that he had a choice, well preserved piece of nineteenth (or was it twentieth?) century history for sale just waiting to be retrieved from a desolate corner in Victoria, Texas.  Since Texas had influenced so much of their own culture, The Great Empire wasted no time in letting Max know they were interested.  Soon, a deal was struck.  A splendid old paddle boat, the Delta Queen Latifah, listed in the Guadalupe River and was soon refurbished for the journey.  The finest landmark pluckers of the 28th century were dispatched to Victoria, now a bustling colony of giant fire ants who built a city unlike any other.  Once-feared rattle snakes and chupacabras had all been devoured by the ever-hungry ants as they created 100 foot high skyscrapers from the challenging black gumbo.  Their achievements were envied throughout the ant kingdoms that reigned the southern hemisphere.  As a bonus Max threw in the old Victoria county jail just in case any travelers became unruly on the voyage.  It was fairly common for the river boat gamblers to fight after decades of non-stop poker playing.  Their skirmishes rarely ended in anything more serious than bruised egos, but Max didn't want to risk his manifest destiny.  Soon the cargo was ready and so it paddled for many days and nights, guided by the constellation Tom Cruise Jumping on Oprah Winfrey's Couch which stretched across the great sea.  Max balanced on the prow as it steamed into Best Buy Bay.  Crowds gathered in front of the preserved body of the cloned Bruce Lee the XXIII who motioned to the artifact where to dock.  Soon, the newfound piece of history was delighting visitors with tours highlighting an age when "rough justice" ruled and paddle boats explored uncivilized rivers.

Submission by: Christine Collins

You asked what's so special about September 1, 2008.  Well, let me tell you.  So much was happening that day.  Gustav was already a Category III hurricane and strenghtening out in the Gulf.  Tropical Storm Hannah was churning out in the Atlantic, getting stronger and trying to decide where she'd go and the Republicans were trying to have a convention in Minnesota.
 
Our Trade Deficit with China was way out of control.  It was the old law of "supply and demand" -- our demand for their goods had been so much larger than their demand for our goods.  Our rice, cotton and wheat crops were so meager, there wasn't anything to export.  The economy wasn't good, merchants were looking at their stock, reducing prices to almost cost and still no sales, employees were systematically being laid off and gasoline prices were steadily rising.  China was insisting we buy more goods from them "or else."
 
Not sure what "or else" entailed, the only option was to see which of our goods they'd like to purchase.  We tried selling SUV's, Cadillacs or Hummers to them to no avail.  But there was one thing they did want.  Since the Forbidden City was no longer "forbidden", they wanted an impressive house of government.  And don't know how or why, they wanted our 19th century Victoria County Courthouse.  The swap was approved, our courthouse for the complete removal of our trade deficit.
 
So, the Air Force and a couple of their big planes plus Air Force One came down to our mayor's office, got him to sign a release and they just hooked onto that old courthouse, flew it down to the Barge Canal, loaded it onto a barge and off she went to sea.
 
In just a few days, our Victoria County Courthouse was in China and operating as the center of the Chinese government and we're operating out of the Courthouse Annex.  That was September 1, 2008, the day Victoria, Texas and the courthouse came to the aid of the nation and received a "purple heart" now on display in the Annex.

The Great Flood of Texas

By Pamela Edge

Back in the 1800’s people flocked to Texas to begin a new life.  Tens of thousands of boats, large and small, traveled into the Gulf of Mexico to reach the rich Texas land.  There were so many boats and ships in the gulf a group of lawmen had to direct the boat traffic on the back of saddled dolphins.  As a result, the first lawmen were called Bronco riders because of the way the dolphins jumped in and out of the water.  One lawman earned a reputation as the toughest, strongest, dolphin rider of the sea.  His name was Davy Crocket – known by seafaring folks as the Skipper.

For weeks, the Skipper watched as boat sails spread from one side of the horizon to the other.  In some areas of the gulf, the boats were stacked three high just to make room for other boats.  After a bit of time, the Skipper realized the boats were packed tighter than a tin full of sardines, so he rode his dolphin to the outer boats in the gulf.  He announced to the future Texans, “Walk from boat to boat until you reach the land!” 

As they walk, other Texans followed.  Soon so many people stepped from boat to boat that the water from the Gulf of Mexico formed an enormous wave.  The strength and height of the wave grew stronger and higher until it jetted the Texans and their boats to the Texas land.  Unfortunately, this flooded Texas.  The people moaned and cried in desperation, so the Skipper once again saved the day.  He told the people to strap the boats together to make Texas a giant piece of floating land.

Using belts, lassos, and braziers the Texans connected the boats, and they called the floating land Victoria.  Soon life became routine.  Cattle were herded from boat to boat.  Children attended school, and the Texans fished for food.  All was going well until some evil strangers arrived in Victoria.  These rouge Texans attacked the boats, robbed the people, and sank their boats. 

Anger swept through the gulf.  The Texans demanded justice, so Skipper gathered the lawmen and apprehended the bandits.  Since the law had no courthouse or judge, the lawmen made the rouges walk the plank.  Fortunately, for the thugs, they fell from one boat to another. 

The Skipper decided the people needed a judge and courthouse.  Using the biggest and best steamship, the lawmen built a courthouse on the top deck.  Then the Texans elected Sam Houston as judge.  From there, the steamship became the hub of law and order.  It traveled to each side of Victoria holding court, holding marriages, and providing news.

After a time, the water receded, and the steamship hit dry land.  Judge Sam Houston knew the people needed a courthouse, so he had a group of lawmen bury the steamboat in the soil leaving only the courthouse visible. 

Today, if you hear the blast of a steamboat’s whistle or see a courthouse, remember Texas’ rich history. 

Trumped Mirage
by Bob Zumwalt

“Grampa, Grampa, look at this!” six-year-old Katie shouted excitedly, as she waved the Sunday paper in my face. “Look, Grampa, this old steamboat is carrying the Victoria courthouse,” Katie babbled. “How can they do that?”

“Aw, that’s not real,” I harrumphed, “that’s just a picture. And it’s not even a photograph.”

“Is too real,” Katie asserted impishly, “that’s a real courthouse carried by that boat!”

“C’mon, Katie, think about it. Don’t you think the real courthouse, with all its stone, would swamp that poor boat?”

“Grampa, you can’t tell me that’s not real. It’s right here in the picture!”

You can’t argue with a six year old, you’ve got to refute them by an even more ridiculous example. I had the beginning of a good story line and hoped I could invent the rest on the fly.

“Katie,” I began, “let me tell you about the time a train carried the ocean liner Queen Mary. The great ship was standing on its keel.”

“That’s crazy,” Katie shouted, “the ship would just fall off on its side.”

“Not so fast, Katie, listen to how it’s done,” I replied, as I desperately sought a logical explanation for my equally ridiculous scenario.

“Tugboats towed the big ship into the Houston ship channel. Dozens of huge cranes lifted the big ship onto the train. Then, the ship’s boilers were started.”

“Steam from the boilers turned three huge gyroscopes. These gyroscopes would keep the ship upright and counter balance the inertial forces caused by the train’s motion. Katie, you remember from the Discovery Channel how gyroscopes keep spacecraft steady, don’t you?”

“Yes, Grampa, I remember that,” Katie answered, “that’s real cool!”

Heartened by my seemingly successful beginning, I continued my tale. “I actually saw this train, carrying the Queen Mary, as it went through the outskirts of Houston. Black smoke poured from the ship’s stacks, as the gyroscopes struggled to keep the ship balanced.”

For a moment, Katie seemed entranced at this idea. But she scowled and demanded, “Grampa, what if the train comes to an overpass?”

Whoops, I hadn’t thought of this! Fortunately, inspiration struck: “When there’s an overpass ahead, three rotor blades unfold and start spinning, like a big helicopter. This lifts the ship over the overpass.”

I reflexively wiped my forehead. I got past that one OK. Heck, I was even beginning to believe this story myself!

“Now, does my tall tale help you understand why the boat can’t be carrying the courthouse?” I confidently asked of Katie.

“No,” Katie gleefully responded, “but it does remind me why this picture in the paper is true. Remember that story on the Discovery Channel about anti-gravity machines? That’s how the boat can carry the heavy courthouse without sinking!”

I know when I’ve been counter trumped. “Hey, your Granma should be finished with those muffins she’s baking – let’s go get some!”

Voyage and arrival in Hong Kong (2008)
by Toya Parkman

AND...

Here's two that got in too late for judging: