The most famous site in Texas history, the Alamo has been interpreted and reinterpreted by every generation of Texans. The former mission in downtown San Antonio confounds visitors who expect a grand building to match the Alamo’s towering mythology. Instead they are confronted with “a squat and oddly configured structure that is in almost every way inscrutable,” wrote writer-at-large Stephen Harrigan, the author of the celebrated novel The Gates of the Alamo.
In 1975 he wrote about the cheesiness and low-rent Disneyfication of the plaza surrounding our most venerated site and the “reverent shuffle of feet and the whispers of fathers misinforming their children” inside the Alamo chapel itself. Missing from the Alamo experience, Harrigan realized, was any effort to explain what actually happened there and why; apparently it was felt that most people had already seen the movie. He returned in 2000 to find much—though not all—of the nonsense swept away and an admirable effort underway to impart some sense of historical perspective on the events of 1836.
In 2010 Jan Jarboe Russell wrote about the politics of preserving the Alamo—not only the fort itself, but the myth surrounding it—a job long held by the venerable Daughters of the Republic of Texas.
But the one man who knows more about Alamo arcana than almost anybody else is Phil Collins—yes, that Phil Collins—as John Spong revealed in a 2012 story that featured one of the all-time great Texas Monthly story titles: “Come and Take a Look at Me Now.” Read it again. Then read the story, because it just gets better from there.
On the latest National Podcast of Texas, the Texas Film Hall Of Famer and director of Netflix’s new ”The Highwaymen” talks about ”The Blind Side,” ”The Alamo,” and the future of Texas filmmaking.
The grandson of a president. The nephew of a president. And the son of a candidate who’s currently on the stump. Such is the reality for George P. Bush, the state’s first-term land commissioner and the newest face of the family dynasty. But what course is he setting for himself?
A word about these four destinations: most native Texans visited them on their elementary school field trips. They are essential, so if you haven’t seen them yet, you’d better get cracking. Just remember, this is only the start.
In a major announcement today, that the Genesis singer/drummer revealed a bit of su-su-super news that his massive collection of Alamo memorabilia is coming home.
We take a bold "peeing on the Alamo is bad" stance over here, but given the way the State Jail felony system works, it's hard to argue that the punishment fits the crime.
An El Paso man pled guilty to the most heinous offense against Texas history imaginable: Peeing on the Alamo. Does this make him the next Ozzy Osbourne?
Saturday's open carry demonstration at the Alamo—which defied a city ordinance and featured a speaking appearance by Lieutenant Governor candidate Jerry Patterson—attracted a lot of coverage.
The senior editor on why the Alamo is so important, how Fess Parker and Davy Crockett sparked a phenomenon in the fifties, and what Phil Collins is really like.
Against all odds, Phil Collins has turned himself into a world-class Alamo buff who will happily talk your ear off about Santa Anna and Davy Crockett. Can you feel it coming in the Bexar tonight?
The very spot where William Barrett Travis wrote his famous “victory or death” letter is a Ripley’s Haunted Adventures. And other ways gross commercialization has desecrated the Alamo’s sacred battleground site.
The genteel matriarchs of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas are at war—with each other. And this time it's a no-quarter struggle for the group's heart and soul.
Better close off the balcony too Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee, of Houston, requested that a corridor in her Washington, D.C., office building be closed off for eight hours so that she could meet privately with singer Michael Jackson.4—6 minutes to high cholesterol An eighteen-wheeler overturned on Houston’s Loop 610, spilling
With March 6 fast approaching, let's doff our coonskin caps to the Serious Alamo Guys, a band of mostly Anglo, mostly bearded, mostly fifty-plus historians who are Bowie-knife sharp on the subject of the mythic battle.
So much is at stake that we almost—almost—believe the release date of Disney's epic-to-be was delayed from Christmas Day to April for the reasons the studio claims. But given the way historical movies usually turn out, can you blame us for smirking?
Sorry, T. R. Fehrenbach: the new Texas historians don’t care about Davy Crockett or other old icons. To them, the real heroes are women, blacks, and yes, Mexican Americans.
This month Eakin Press will publish The Alamo Almanac and Book of Lists. Among the interesting items compiled by author William R. Chemerka is one that has nothing to do with history—not really, anyway: It’s the Top Twenty Most Frequently Asked Questions at the Alamo.1. “Where’s the bathroom?”2. “Is this
