We met our friend Danny when he was a young engineer fresh out of Texas A&M, and had come to work with my hubby at Mobil Oil, down in Kingsville. In fact, we've known him longer than his wife Peggy has, since that is where he met her. We've been through a lot together since then. Peggy and I had miscarriages together in Houston, our toddlers played together in Midland, and if it weren't for them moving to Sumatra ahead of us, and sending us four thumbs up, we might never have had the courage to move back to Indonesia that second time, with kids in tow. It has been a very, very long friendship, and one of the things I have always loved most about it, was hearing Dan's stories about how he grew up.
Though we were both born and raised in Texas, our lives couldn't have been more different. I grew up in Dallas, as did my parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. I think I had one great grandfather Fritz who was supposedly born on the boat coming over from Germany, but his parents were probably city slickers too. Danny grew up in the section of the Texas Hill Country (Doss, Texas, population 225) where just about everyone calls their grandparents Oma and Opa. His grandparents all spoke German, and his family were all ranchers. Danny and his three siblings attended a two-room school house (still in operation, though it now has
three rooms) until it was time to be bussed over to the big consolidated high school in Fredericksburg, about 20 miles away. When we first started visiting Doss, there were only three businesses there. You had his father's mechanic shop; there was his mother's tiny grocery store, where all the hunters stocked up on supplies, and which had a meat locker out back; then there was another little general store owned by a different family. Everyone in Doss hunts. I think their son Travis was only in first or second grade that time we showed up at their grocery store for a visit. He had just shot his first deer, and came running out to grab our hands, squealing "Come see my deer! Come see my deer!" We braced ourselves to see the poor creature hanging in the garage, ready to be skinned. We were not at
all prepared to find it already skinned and stretched out on the table, being carved into steaks and roasts. Whenever we spend the night with them, Danny loves to offer to fry up some blood sausage for my hubby's breakfast, just to watch him turn green.
Peggy and Dan were always very frugal, and it wasn't long before they'd saved up enough money to buy their
own ranch in Doss, right down the road from his parents. Theirs just happened to come with a quaint old house on it -- a house I fell madly in love with. Peggy thought the house would do for a weekend getaway, but often said that if Dan Reeh ever expected her to live up there full time, they'd probably have to tear it down and build from scratch, as it would likely be a lot cheaper than trying to renovate this one. She may have been right, but each time she said that, I cried.
I doubt my tears had a thing to do with it, but somewhere along the way, they decided it was worth preserving, no matter the cost. It just so happens we were up there this weekend, for our annual meet up with a group of Indo-buddies, so I thought I'd snap a few pics to share with you. The part you see above was the original house, though they shifted the entrance over to frame the front door.
This new section on the right gave them a large open living/kitchen area for entertaining, a master suite, and another lovely porch.
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| The Barns |
This little building out back, which is Peggy's someday-garden-shed, originally housed the smokehouse on the left, and wash house on the right.
This is where they built the fire to heat up the kettles of water for doing their wash. I can't say that I blame Peggy for not wanting to do her laundry that way. There's even an old root cellar that used to lead down from the original kitchen. I seem to remember Peggy saying there were still a few jars of stuff down there on the shelves, which the previous owner had canned, when they bought the place. The old kitchen became Dan's office when they remodeled, and the door to the cellar is still there, but it's hidden behind a swing-out set of bookshelves. I hate to burst the bubble of those who attended high school with young Travis, but Mr. Reeh has
never worked for the C.I.A., and that hidden door did
not lead down to his secret headquarters.
Dan used to give the kids horseback rides whenever they came to visit. Now he has a
new toy to tour them around in.
Anywho, I don't know what made them change their minds about tearing it all down, but I'm ever so grateful for whatever it was. Some things are worth preserving, don't you think?
Oh yeah, one last thing! All the original businesses in Doss are closed now, but some new people opened that fancy general store in the photo up top. Then they brought in a really good chef, and opened a mighty fine restaurant right there in the store. I admit, when Peggy first told me about it, I questioned the sense of opening a restaurant in a town that small, but it seems folks are driving in from all over to dine there. It even got written up in Texas Monthly magazine! So, if you are ever in the area, and want to view a bit of living history, why don't you head on over to Doss to look around, maybe even have a bite to eat. The peach cobbler is delish!
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