My home town.

[considerations]

McCleay....Go to Salem, Get on State Street, head east out of town, past the prison, past the mushroom farm and the elementary school.  It's just a wide spot in the road. No mayor, no urban growth boundary, but a community nonetheless.  We had about 20 acres out there, no indoor plumbing for the first year or so, and a phone exchange.  The operator went to bed about 9PM and didn't take kindly to non-emergency calls till about dawn.  I think the phone number was Capitol XXX - 5 numbers.

[considerations]

Here's a map of Salem showing Macleay. 

http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=44.913873,-122.91901&z=13&t=h&hl=en

And yes, I did haul swinging meat.  Learned all about what it can do on a freeway cloverleaf  and hallucinating at dawn.  They said we were the first husband and wife team they ever hired.  The man (its been a long time, but I think it was the dispatcher) asked if I could lift and carry heavy loads.

I bear hugged him and carried him across the room, said "I think so".  He hired us...too many people watching, and laughing.  That was about 1970 or so.  Lots of adventures available in this life.

Did not turn out to be a career, but I saw a fair amount of the country from the cab of a semi.

[glenn kangiser]

Not too late to learn about places I haven't been.  I never had a clue it was over there-- thought that if I went past the freeway I would end up dropping off the world ...or in Silverton.

I know the hallucinating bit.

Had to get a load to Spokane - 4 AM ...frozen harder than the back of my head-- maybe 4 degrees out and couldn't shut the truck off.  Parked in a rest area behind another truck with it's lights on, parked about 3 feet behind him, set the emergency brake and fell asleep over the steering wheel instantly with the engine running.  A truck drove by and I woke up -- thought I fell asleep at the wheel and started stomping on the brakes --- the air was hissing and I didn't hit him--- then I realized that I was parked behind the other truck with the brake firmly set...whew. 

[considerations]

I know the hallucinating bit.
I was parked behind the other truck with the brake firmly set...whew. 

At least you were parked.  I didn't know that the Midwest was populated with giant lions.  Cruising down the highway, sun is coming up, beautiful dawn, and this immense lion stood up out in one of the fields and stretched, just like a cat....it was a haystack.  We stopped for breakfast and a seat swap a little earlier than usual that day.   

[muldoon]

so, I wont blame anyone for not being up on their Texas history if they dont live here.  However, there is much to be proud of, men who gave all for men to live free.  Anyway, one "forgotten" hero I would like to comment on was Padre Miguel Muldoon, or Father Michael Muldoon as he was also known.  So, the little town I call my piece of heaven is Muldoon, TX.  Population 400~ish.  It was his land grant in the 1800's.  A little history of of where I get my name.... 

The History Of Muldoon, Texas

Muldoon is on Farm Road 154 nine miles north of Flatonia in southwestern Fayette County. It is located on a grant of land originally made in 1831 to Father Michael Muldoon, who was the curate for Stephen F. Austin's first Texas colony. The town was not platted until 1886, when the Waco branch of the San Antonio and Aransas Pass Railway extended its line between West Point and Flatonia. A post office was established in 1888. By 1890 the business community was the center of a voting precinct and included a store, a saloon, a hotel, a blacksmith shop, and a physician. Local quarries produced fuller's earth and stone used in the construction of the Galveston jetties. Due to the poor agricultural characteristics of the soil and the proximity of other communities Muldoon grew slowly; it reached a peak of a population of 200 and eight businesses in 1943. During the 1980s three businesses and the post office remained to serve fewer than 100 residents. In 1990 the population was ninety-eight.

A Salute to Michael Muldoon

A brief tribute to a forgotten hero of Texas
© 1999 by Tony Hearn

More than a century and a half ago when Stephen F. Austin was languishing in jail in the capital of Mexico, the kindness of a young Irishman named Michael Muldoon played a crucial role in the founding of Texas.

Austin, regarded by historians as the "Father of Texas," most probably would not have gained that honor had it not been for the simple charity of this man also known as Padre Miguel Muldoon.

Michael Muldoon, born in Ireland and ordained a Catholic priest after studying for holy orders in Spain, had crossed the Atlantic to serve as a chaplain to General Santa Ana, the president of Mexico. He met the young impressario, Austin, at Santa Ana's court. When Austin was thrown in jail, Muldoon visited the future founder in jail daily, carrying food, books, and human kindness. In the course of the year Austin was imprisoned, the two became close friends.

[muldoon]

But keeping Austin and his vision alive in prison was not the only service Father Muldoon provided for the future Republic and State of Texas. The Catch 22 of settling Texas was religion. When Santa Ana finally released Austin from prison, Austin learned that only Catholics could secure land grants from Mexican authorities. Austin needed a way to change would-be Protestant settlers into Papists. Only a Catholic priest could turn Austin and his followers into members of what Mexico regarded as the one true faith. For friendship's sake, Michael Muldoon stepped forward when no one else did to volunteer as the first Catholic vicar of Texas. Within days, Muldoon was bound for the port of Indianola on the Gulf coast of Texas to work his way inland, sprinkling the sacred waters of baptism upon the brows of Austin's 300, the first settlers of Texas. His converts were to become known as "Muldoon Catholics." He confessed to some of his reluctant "converts" that he would not notice if they crossed their fingers behind their backs to preserve their own religious affiliations. Each baptismal certificate he issued could be turned into a land grant. As Austin's friend, he wanted Texas to succeed.

For several years, Muldoon traveled from the western Louisiana border to the Rio Grande, baptizing, marrying, and burying new Texans. He was a familiar and welcomed sight in pioneer homes and wayside inns and taverns across the land. Some Protestant ministers, infiltrating the new Catholic territory, perhaps out of envy over the universal affection for the vicar of Texas, spread tales that Muldoon was a heavy drinker. Records of bar bills have been used to sully Muldoon's reputation. Perhaps he bought drinks for the house when he dropped in on groups of weary settlers huddled for respite in those pioneer saloons. It is a historical fact that Muldoon enjoyed his life. He submitted cheerful poems to the Nacogdoches Gazetta, revealing his joyful, ecumenical spirit.

Muldoon performed one more heroic act for Texas before his mysterious disappearance. Shortly after Sam Houston defeated General Santa Ana in the battle at San Jacinto, which won Texas independence from Mexico, the Texas ambassador to the United States, William Wharton, was captured at sea by a Mexican man-of-war. The ship took the Texas foreign minister to a jail in Matamoros where he was sentenced to death for his role in the Texas revolt. While awaiting execution, Wharton had a visitor to his prison cell: Michael Muldoon.

"Have no fear!" Padre Muldoon counseled Wharton. "I'll be back very soon!" Within minutes, Muldoon returned. Running the guard away from the cell's door so the priest "could hear this condemned man's last confession," he pulled a spare priestly habit from under his own. Muldoon gave Wharton brisk instructions: "Put this on! If anyone stops you, just hold up two fingers, make the sign of the Cross, and say, 'Pax vobiscum!'" Wharton escaped.

Michael Muldoon explained his way out of the angry hands of the jailers in Matamoros, but within several years his love for Texas and her early settlers cost him his life. No records exist to confirm what happened to him, though hearsay suggests that he, as a persona non grata, was placed by Mexican authorities aboard a ship for a one-way trip to Spain. That same ship was said to have been sunk during a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico.

Whatever the fate of Irishman Michael Muldoon, and despite reservations concerning his moral and priestly character published in the official Catholic History of Texas, this pastor and patriot of early Texas deserves to live on in spirit as one of her noblest heroes. As he said, "Pax vobiscum!"

Yes, for now and always, dear Texas, "Peace be with you!"

[glenn kangiser]

Interesting, Muldoon.

I trucked through or by Flatonia once -- remember the name but not the why.

[Redoverfarm]

It's good that you have that much history of your namesake.  If it is not written down I would do so.  Something the family might want later on.