For a day that started with a thunderstorm, Day Three ended up pretty nice. The sun shone, the sky was a deep blue and a drive that looked to be a sloppy mess turned quite pleasant, (except for the strong winds). We arrived at Mission Concepción around one thirty in the afternoon. We generally make a point to visit one of the San Antonio missions each year. They were originally built in the early eighteenth century and are active churches. 
Both the grounds and the chapels themselves are beautiful. One can feel the history in this place. If you’re not inspired to prayer and contemplation here you won’t be anywhere. Photographers are also inspired by the park. On more than one occasion I have observed brides taking wedding pictures at these missions. One would have to be beyond incompetent to take a really bad picture at any of them.
Besides all of this the San Antonio missions are always an easy stop. No entrance fees, no tours, no rigid arrival and departure times. It’s my favorite way to travel actually. Stroll the grounds, take in the sights and soak up the past. From here, it’s on to the Alamo!
San Antonio is a revolutionary town, no less so than Boston and Philadelphia. It doesn’t matter whether you’re Tejano, or Anglo, or anything in between. The only thing that matters here is that you’re Texan, even if it’s just for the day. It’s not unlike being Irish on St. Patty’s day. Of course the Alamo is ground zero for this revolutionary pride. A friend recently told me of a family member whose child began to complain of boredom while on a visit to the Alamo. The youngster was taken outside and summarily spanked. Like Bunker Hill or Lexington and Concord, the Alamo looms large in our collective consciousness. It goes a long way to defining who we are as Texans. We are the sons and daughters of the Alamo, literally and figuratively.
On this the one hundred and seventy fifth anniversary of the battle, all of Texas was here. Re-enactors in period dress roamed the grounds, cannons went off and a brass band played tributes to the fallen. It was a great day, and while crowded, a sense of community was in the air. I couldn’t help but wonder what out of town visitors thought of the festivities.
Rather than hang out on the river walk this year the students elected to return to our San Marcos hotel a bit early. This was a happy choice and allowed them and the adults a bit of down time. Austin being on the agenda in the morning a bit of rest was certainly in order.
