Pretending I am Jane Long

January 5, 1882


  It has been Over six months since my husband, James Long left the headquarters here at Point Bolivar.  I just gave birth to a baby girl about a month ago.  She is the only white individual that has ever been born in Texas.  Many people have been calling me the mother of Texas because of this.  Five months ago the other people awaiting the return of my husband left because he did not return in a month's time as he had said he would.  They invited me to come along, but I refused to go.  I still have hope.  My children, along with my maid, Kian and I are barely surviving through this brutal winter.  All of the food that we had stored is now gone.  Kian and I have been carving ducks and fish out of the ice at the bay to eat.  Every day, to scare away the Indians, I fire the cannon.  I want them to think that this is a well mannered fort, so I hang my red coat from the flagpole.  I will not leave the fort until James returns.  This is where he left me and this is where I will be whenever he returns.

A song for Paw Paw

Paw Paw was having his fiftieth birthday party on a weekend in January about twenty years ago.  An announcement was made that my mother would be playing "Happy Birthday" on the saxophone. Everyone attending the party turned and stared at the fourteen year old.  She had been practicing for weeks to play on Paw Paw's birthday.  Despite this, butterflies filled her stomach and her hands started trembling.  Taking a seat between the kitchen and living room, she nervously began to play. Long, exaggerated notes emerged from the instrument carrying the Happy Birthday tune.  Then, all of a sudden there was a loud squeak that made everyone shriek.  She continued playing.  After what seemed like forever to her, the song ended.  Everyone clapped and cheered as though it was the best song they had ever heard.  The slightly embarrassed girl felt a load of relief come over herself.