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On the 23rd of February, 1836, at 2 p.m., General Santa Anna entered the city of San Antonio with a part of his army. This he effected without any resistances, the forces under the command of Travis, Bowie and Crockett having on the same day, at 8 a.m. learned that the Mexican army was on the banks of the Medina river, and concentrated in the Alamo. In the evening they commenced to exchange fire with guns, and from the 23rd of February to the 6th of March (in which the storming was made by Santa Anna), the roar of artillery and volleys of musketry were constantly heard. On the 6th of March at 3 p.m. General Santa Anna at the head of 4000 men, advanced against the Alamo. The infantry, artillery and cavalry had formed about 1000 varas from the walls of said fortress. The Mexican army charged and were twice repulsed by the deadly fire of Travis' artillery, which resembled a constant thunder. At the third charge the Toluca battalion commenced to scale the walls and suffered severely. Out of 800 men, only 130 were left alive.
When the Mexican army had succeeded in entering the walls, I with Political Chief (Jefe Politico) Don Ramon Musquiz, and other members of the corporation, accompanied the curate Don Refugio de la Garza, who, by Santa Anna's orders had assembled during the night, at a temporary fortification erected in Potrero street, with the object of attending the wounded. As soon as the storming commenced, we crossed the bridge on Commerce street with this object in view, and about 100 yards from the same a party of Mexican dragoons fired upon us and compelled us to fall back on the river to the place occupied before. Half an hour had elapsed when Santa Anna sent one of his aides with an order for us to come before him. He directed me to call upon some of the neighbors to come with carts to carry the dead to the cemetery, and also to accompany him, as he was desirous to have Colonels Travis, Bowie and Crockett shown to him.
On the north battery of the fortress lay the lifeless body of Colonel Travis on the gun carriage shot only in the forehead. Toward the west in a small fort opposite the city we found the body of Colonel Crockett. Colonel Bowie was found dead in his bed in one of the rooms of the south side.
Santa Anna, after the Mexicans were taken out, ordered wood to be brought to burn the bodies of the Texans. He sent a company of dragoons with me to bring wood and dry branches from the neighboring forests. About 3 o'clock in the afternoon of the next day they commenced laying wood and dry branches upon which a file of dead bodies were placed, more wood was piled on them and another file brought, and in this manner all were arranged in layers. Kindling wood was distributed through the pile and at 8 o'clock it was lighted.
The dead Mexicans of Santa Anna's army were taken to the graveyard, but not having sufficient room for them, I ordered some of them to be thrown in the river, which was done on the same day. Santa Anna's loss estimated at 1600 men. These were the flower of his army.
The gallantry of the few Texans who defended the Alamo were really wondered at by the Mexican army. Even the generals were astonished at their vigorous resistance, and how dearly the victory had been bought.
The generals who, under Santa Anna, participated in the storming of the Alamo were Juan Amador, Castrillion Ramirez and Asesma Andrade.
The men burned numbered 182. I was an eye witness, for as Alcalde The mayor or chief judicial official of a Spanish town of San Antonio, I was with some of the neighbors collecting the dead bodies and placing them on the funeral pyre.
(Signed)FRANCISCO ANTONIO RUIZ. Mar 6 1907
P.S. My father was Don Francisco Ruiz, a member of the Texas convention. He signed the Texas Declaration of Independence upon the second day of March, 1836. F.A.R.
Sally had been looking forward to this - she'd asked John to meet her for a quiet dinner, just the two of them, at their usual spot. It felt good to have some one-on-one time with him.
As they settled into their seats, John glanced around and asked, "So where's your buddy Pat tonight?"
Sally didn't even look up from her menu. "Oh, he's off with Michael - you know how they get when they start theorizing and strategizing together. Plus Michael's been showing him around town, pointing out things Pat finds fascinating." She paused and finally met John's eyes. "Honestly? I needed a break from all that intensity. I'd rather hear something interesting from you. Tell me a story from when you were my age - I want to hear about the old days."
John chuckled and shook his head. "Oh honey, now that takes me back a really long time. And I have to warn you - those weren't exactly the good old days. Life was pretty rough back then. I was living in what they called Texas, though it wasn't like the Texas you might know about. See, it had been controlled by Mexico, but it had just declared independence, and there was fighting and bloodshed scattered all over the territory. Here I was, just trying to clear some land and get a farm going, and all this political chaos kept getting in the way of everything. You couldn't get the supplies you needed, couldn't count on anything staying peaceful long enough to get work done. A bunch of my friends got caught up in the cause - they went off on raids to border towns, fighting for independence."
His voice grew quieter. "I never saw any of them again. I thought about joining up with them, I really did. But right around that time, I met this little lady named Akasha." John's whole demeanor softened. "She was tiny, just like you, and absolutely beautiful. Her story was complicated - her mother had been a slave girl from India, sold off to pay someone's debts, and brought over to our area. When her owners got killed by locals, she was just abandoned. Somehow she ended up married to a native Texan, living with his tribe, and they had several children together. They were dirt poor, even by Texas standards, but you could see they were genuinely happy. Akasha was somewhere around 14 or 16 - nobody was really sure. Her parents had lost track of the years with all the chaos, and there weren't any official records being kept, so ages were pretty much guesswork. I first spotted her down by the river, struggling to carry two heavy water buckets up the hill. Being a gentleman, I offered to help and gave her a ride back to her village on my horse." John paused, lost in the memory. "Sally, I had never experienced anything like what happened when I reached out to help her up onto that horse. The moment I took her hand, it was like... like I'd grabbed hold of my entire future all at once. Everything I was meant to be was wrapped up in this one small person. And I could see in her eyes that she felt exactly the same thing."
"Well, when we got to her family's place - this little round house made of timber and animal skins - she jumped down, set those water buckets aside, and took off running. Her father came chasing after her, caught her, gave her a beating with a stick, and shoved her inside. Then he turned to me and told me in no uncertain terms never to come around there again. I guess in their culture, her being seen riding with a man, especially a stranger, brought shame on her and embarrassed the whole family. They figured we must have been up to something improper. But I couldn't just leave it at that. That very afternoon, I went back. I took the one five-dollar bill I'd been saving for farm supplies and my best donkey - pretty much everything of value I had. I rode up to that little hut, handed the money and the donkey over to her father. Neither of us said a single word. Then I walked straight into that house, scooped up Akasha, carried her out to my horse, and we rode off to my place. And that was it - as far as anyone was concerned, we were husband and wife from that moment on." John smiled at the memory. "A few days later, her mother showed up with all of Akasha's belongings. There wasn't much, but I could tell it all meant something to her. Her mother and Akasha cried and cried, but these seemed like happy tears to me, and her mom even gave me a hug before she left. The thing is, Akasha and I didn't even speak the same language at first, so I had to figure out how she was feeling by watching her face and looking into her eyes. But I never saw anything in those eyes, from that very first moment, except love. And I made myself a promise right then and there that I'd never let her see anything in my eyes but a reflection of that same love back at her. We were together for thirty years before a fever took her from me, and I honestly can't remember even one bad day in all that time."
"I'll have the rib-eye, medium rare, with the garlic mashed potatoes, and my friend John here will have the catfish plate," Sally said to the server, taking charge of ordering. Then she turned back to John with a big grin. "Oh my goodness, that was such a beautiful and romantic story! I had no idea you were so proactive, bold and decisive, when you were young. It's actually pretty exciting to imagine."
John chuckled and replied, "Well, I'm not entirely sure what you mean by 'proactive,' but I'll take that as a compliment."
Sally was clearly captivated and hungry for more than just dinner. "So what happened after that, John? Did you two have children and everything?"
John nodded and continued, "We did eventually, but not right away. And it wasn't for lack of trying, I can tell you that much. Akasha was healthy and very much a woman in every sense, and she wasn't shy about showing it - at least not behind closed doors. In public she was modest and reserved, but when it was just the two of us... well, let's just say she had no inhibitions whatsoever." He paused thoughtfully. "Life was hard back then though - constant stress, backbreaking work every single day on the farm just to scrape by and survive. Akasha never complained about the work, but I think all that stress was telling her body it wasn't the right time for babies yet. After we'd been together a few years, an old friend came to visit with incredible news. He'd struck it rich out in California - they'd discovered gold mines there, and apparently anyone with gumption could just go stake a claim and keep whatever gold they found.
He convinced Akasha and me to sell the farm, which wasn't bringing in much anyway, and head out to San Francisco to try our luck prospecting. That city was growing like nothing you've ever seen - it was ten times crazier than Powder Junction ever thought about being. I was genuinely worried about Akasha because it was a dangerous place, and she was so small and so beautiful. She found work at a restaurant, but there were men constantly grabbing at her and making trouble. Turns out she was much tougher than she looked and could handle herself just fine, so that was a relief. Meanwhile, I headed into the hills to try my luck panning for gold, but the only luck I found was bad luck. Akasha was making enough to cover our room and basic food, but I wasn't contributing anything, and that really ate away at my pride and spirit.
There was also some truly ugly stuff happening around us. Men got gold fever and started acting like wild animals. Many of the native Californians were being forced off their ancestral lands, and far too many were being murdered outright, all so these gold seekers could have their way. The indigenous people were being systematically exterminated. That really disturbed both Akasha and me deeply. So as soon as we could manage it, we got out of that town and moved up north, where there was good, honest work in the logging industry."
"It was hard, dangerous work, but it paid well enough that I could properly provide for Akasha. Those were happy times because I was finally earning enough that she didn't have to work, and that's when the babies finally came. Three of them, all girls. And let me tell you, those girls were just like their parents - you know how they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree? Well, that was certainly true with our three. They were beautiful and strong like their mother, but high-spirited and stubborn like their old man. They weren't shy at all - not one bit. If something was on their minds, they'd look you straight in the eye and tell you exactly what they thought, no sugar-coating whatsoever. Finding them suitable husbands was one of the hardest things I ever had to do - I needed men who were strong enough to handle their personalities but gentle enough not to try to break their spirits. Well, actually, that was almost the hardest thing. The truly hardest part was making sure that after I found the right guys, I had to somehow convince my daughters that choosing these men was entirely their own idea. It took me a while to figure out how girls' minds work, but once I cracked that code, I could arrange things to work out perfectly for them without all the drama and hysterics."
"I'll have the apple pie, please," Sally said to the server. "John, do you want any dessert?"
"No thanks, honey, I'm perfectly content. But you go ahead and enjoy - don't hold back," John replied, handing his empty plate to the busboy.
"Oh, I definitely won't hold back - trust me on that. I'm one of your daughters too, you know," Sally said with a mischievous grin.
"You know, maybe that's exactly why I feel so close to you, Sally. You're like all three of my girls rolled into one person. I guess that means you get three times the love," John said with a warm laugh.
"Absolutely, and I'm soaking up every single drop of it too. Now keep going - what happened after your daughters got married?"
John grew thoughtful while Sally worked on her pie, considering how much of the story to tell and whether he should leave out the painful parts. Finally deciding that Sally was mature enough to handle the whole truth, he continued. "Getting my girls married off was simultaneously the happiest and saddest period of my life. Our situation was stable - there were plenty of trees to cut and a steady market for lumber. But the country as a whole was in terrible shape. There had been a brutal civil war that just ripped the heart out of the nation.
Even though we westerners didn't see any actual fighting, we were still torn apart politically and financially by the aftermath. My daughters all ended up moving around with their husbands as the country continued to rebuild and reorganize itself. Akasha and I finally got to settle down and relax, looking forward to news about grandchildren, but that just wasn't meant to be. One night, Akasha came down with a terrible fever and severe stomach cramps. By morning, dysentery had set in. I couldn't leave her alone to fetch a doctor - she would have died while I was gone - so I stayed with her and tried desperately to get enough broth and water into her, but it just wasn't enough.
The dysentery just drained the life right out of her poor little body. She grew weaker and weaker throughout the day, and by nightfall, she had passed to the other side. I never did find out exactly what killed her, though the neighbors suspected it might have been cholera. Her family had a tradition of funeral pyres, so my neighbors and I gathered lumber and sent her smoke up to heaven to join her spirit. I scattered all her ashes throughout the forest she loved so much. She used to have long conversations with those trees, and I knew that whatever part of her energy remained with those ashes would be comfortable and at peace among them. I honestly can't say I remember much about the next several years. Being alone didn't bother me - I can handle solitude just fine. It was the emptiness inside that nearly destroyed me. I kept waiting and waiting for that hollow place to fill up again, but I finally had to accept that it never would. So every night before I went to sleep, I would visit that empty part of my heart and make sure it was clean and orderly, exactly the way Akasha would have kept it if she were still there."
"Oh my God, John," Sally said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I never realized how lonely you've been. That's heartbreaking. How did you manage to cope with all that?"
John replied thoughtfully, "Well, it turns out that while time doesn't heal all wounds, it does help you learn to move forward and deal with what life gives you. Humans are probably the only creatures that cling too much to the past sometimes, and I had to just get on with living the rest of my life properly instead of getting stuck being sentimental about something that was long gone. I had already started working with fire crews in California, and when I heard they were hiring for that kind of work up in Oregon, I packed up and moved there. That's where I stayed until I came to Penny Lake. So there you have it - my whole life story from beginning to end."
"But what about your daughters? Did they ever have those grandchildren you were hoping for?" Sally pressed.
"Maybe they did, maybe they didn't," John said with a shrug. "I honestly wouldn't know either way. Akasha was always the one who kept up with correspondence, and after she passed, I just lost touch with the girls completely. They had their new lives with their husbands - and they were all good men, so I'm sure the girls were fine. I probably do have lots of grandchildren and great-grandchildren out there somewhere, but I never met any of them."
Sally looked directly at John with sudden intensity. "You know what, John? I'll bet they are here - in fact, I'm certain they're here. Some of them might even be right here in Powder Junction. Have you ever thought about trying to find them?"
John got a thoughtful expression and said slowly, "You know, that actually makes perfect sense, but until this very moment, that thought had never crossed my mind. Now that you mention it, I think I will look into that. But first, before I go wandering all over creation searching for my past, I want to make sure I've done right by the person I love most in the present - my dear Sally."
