Volume II, Number 6 A LITTLE VERSE Nature and Nature's laws

Volume II, Number 6

A LITTLE VERSE

Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night,
God said: Let Newton be! and all was light

OLD BUSINESS

Ruth the Republican was right about who lived next door to Colonel E. M. House in Austin. I was amazed that she knew, but she detected right off that it was "the Great Commoner" hisownself, a man who ran thrice for the presidency and was rewarded for supporting Wilson in 1912 by being made Secretary of State.

Here is his picture.



William Jennings Byron, Author of Thanatopsis




MORE OLD BUSINESS

Ruth the R was right in saying that Johnson grass was an import. It came from the Middle East and may have done more damage to the U. S. than Al Qaeda. It came to Texas in the mid-19c and got here later than the Baptists.

ANOTHER "SOMEBODY DONE SOMEBODY WRONG SONG"

Nobody cares, but I am the one who done somebody wrong. I done me wrong. Last week, I drove to San Antonio to attend the Texas Folklore Society. I got to the hotel, unpacked, and found that I had left all my heart and blood pressure medicine back in Fort Worth. I went to dinner with Sarah Greene (she paid!), and then I packed up and drove back to Fort Worth. I took all five of my pills at 1:15 a.m. I missed the whole Folklore Society. Nobody cares but me, but, hey, this is my BLOG!

A LITTLE SKETCH OF JOYCE GIBSON ROACH

If you want all the hard, cold facts about her life, go to joycegibsonroach.com. I am only interested in talking about the person I know. I have read all her works, but I am not about to list them here. It would fill up the page. Why have I read them? She is my friend and has been for many years. I met her when the Texas Folklore Society met at Wimberley way back when she was just a girl. She had a husband and two little children in tow. Now the children have children and Joyce is a widder woman. I can't remember the year, but it was way way way back.



I am sorry my picture appears here with Joyce Roach. I wanted to use the glamour shot she had on her Web site, but it has disappeared. She wanted this picture of the two of us, and I am an egomaniac and agreed. Well, reluctantly.

Joyce Roach is a woman of parts. She can sing, play the fiddle, write music and plays, follow the track of the horned lizard (aka horny toad, horned frog, TCU mascot), deliver humorous papers and speeches, research and write history, and collect folklore about many things. Her book, THE COWGIRLS, won a Spur award, as did a couple of her stories. Her EATS: A FOLK HISTORY OF TEXAS FOODS (with Ernestine Sewell Linck) won the Texas Institute of Letters Award as the best non-fiction book of whatever year that was. (Egomaniac that I am, I would like to announce that I wrote the Foreword and gave the book its name.) Joyce wrote a book entitled WILD ROSE; A FOLK HISTORY OF A NORTH TEXAS TOWN, and she asked me to write an introduction. I agreed, knowing that I would have weeks to read the manuscript and say some inane things. She called on a Tuesday. I said, "When do you need it?" She said, "Friday." It often works that way with her. She is quick off the mark and expects others to be as quick. I made the deadline.

Joyce Roach is a Fellow of the Texas State Historical Association and a Fellow of the Texas Folklore Society. What we call "a twofer." Over a moderate-length career, she has taught in the public schools and at TCU. Her course at TCU, LIFE AND LITERATURE OF THE SOUTHWEST, is just one of her many specialties. She edits a magazine for the Westlake Historical Society and is compiling a book for them. I always ask her to lead a discussion in my reading group at the Fort Worth Public Library (Hulen Branch), and she is one of the two or three most popular leaders.

For several seasons, I have ridden to the Texas Folklore Society meeting with her and her mother, Ann Gipson. This year, Ann fell and hit her head and was unable to go. Joyce hated to leave her for long and flew down to San Antonio for one day to do her part of the program. That was lucky for me, since I was so stupid as to forget my medicine. I had my own car and could rush back. But I know Joyce. If she had driven, she would have either brought me back or let me have her car. She is a true friend, and I could go on and on about her. I won't. Everybody knows her anyway. Or should.