Found an abandoned Catholic Church in Medina County, Texas

When I think about the Catholic Church in Texas, I think of Spanish colonizers and their aftermath. But here in Medina County, Catholics from Alsace, France, came, saw, and (if not conquered) made their mark, and that mark includes architecture, food and churches.

My sister brought us here to see the ruins of Saint Dominic Catholic Church, and it was like touring an ancient European abbey. Which it is, in an American sense. A congregation formed in 1847 when D’Hanis colony was founded; in 1853, the town became a mission parish and the church was built of local limestone. According to church records, the timber frame was hauled by ox-cart from the Medina River.  In 1868, the first resident pastor arrived, and a sandstone extension was built just for him. The cemetery in back dates to 1847, beginning with the burial of a child of settlers from Alsace. Some of the graves are in German, others in what looks like an Alsatian dialect.

As for the ruins? Blame the saga of the American rails. Southern Pacific Railroad missed the town — with grievous economic impact. So, not to be ignored, in 1913 the town moved 1.5 miles west to “New” D’Hanis. And so did the parish church. And now we see what happens to a church ignored for 100 years….

More church images.

NB: In the mid 1800s, two towns were established by Alsatian immigrants (the local info terms them “settlers”) who’d been led to Texas by a count named Castro and his representative, Theodore Gentilz. Castroville (named for the count) and D’Hanis (the surname of the “Manager of the Colonization Society”) remain strongly marked by the influx, with dozens of residents who can trace their line back to the initial settlement.

 

What Really Makes the World Go

All day I’ve wanted to post a picture of my friend’s Père David’s deer with his gal pal Milu. The pair are noshing on breakfast, and I remembered it as a charming picture, so I wanted to share it here.

Then I went poking around for a little more information on the strange creatures–also to get the accent aigu right for the post–and found the google category: pere david deer hunt. (No accent aigu on that one.)

I’m not surprised. I’m not surprised. I’m not. I know the story, I do. I know this story, anyway:

Texas XX XX allows the opportunity to hunt and harvest the Trophy Pere Davids Deer you’ll want to hang on your wall. From May to December, we offer hunts for World Record Class Pere Davids Deer. There are no seasonal restrictions on hunting the Pere Davids Deer in Texas, which makes it a suitable trophy most of the year.

I guess “harvest” means “kill.” I’m no vegetarian, but it’s hard to feel good about a world where people pay to kill animals that have gone extinct in the wild so that they might have a suitable trophy. As opposed to an unsuitable trophy. It’s not disgusting to everyone, to go exotic-deer hunting. Having grown up in Texas, I know a lot of people who think it’s cool. Everything’s relative: I think about the things I do, the places I go, to feel important, valuable. The souvenirs I acquire when traveling are like trophies, a little.

Everything is not relative.

Here they are, enjoying their morning repast, free from predators. For now.