Wordless Wednesday: thanks for visiting!

 

Memory Lane has changed

I know it's been a while since my last post, but I think I'm finally getting through some obligations to non-blog-worthy work, and hope to be a little better about this in the rest of 2025.

Like last week, when I spent a delightful few days with some old and new friends from college. This group of women get together every year and I've joined them a few times (once we visited a cave!). This year's outing, back on our old stomping grounds, wasn't one to pass up.

One of the things I was most interested in seeing was the newly designed academic quadrangle. That's a picture of it above. The landscaping is still in the beginning stages, but eventually there will actually be shade there—imagine, wanting shade in Houston! Yes, the iconic hedges of my youth are gone, but the overall design is more flowing and natural-looking, so the hedges' strict perpendicularity would have been out of place.

Here's a shot of one section of the quad where the plantings are really taking off, and you can see the curvature of the path:

The buildings in the background have been changed substantially, too: Anderson Hall on the right, where I had a lot of English classes, is now strictly the Archies' (that's Ar-Kees, or architecture students)

domain; and Fondren Library on the left, where I worked during and after graduation, now has a nice covered area with benches all along its front.

What inspired this transformation of the quad was the question of what to do with the statue of the University's founder, which sat right in the middle of it, in somewhat hagiographic splendor. (Although, some prankster engineering students in the 1980's treated it rather disrespectfully, actually lifting the entire statue around so that it faced the library instead of the administration building. You can see a picture of it flipped here, a shot which incidentally shows you a bit of how the quad looked before the re-design.)

The problem with according William Marsh Rice such elevated status is that he was an enslaver, and therefore some of the wealth used to endow the school—which was originally set up as an institute for whites only—was the result of enslaved people's labor. The University wanted to acknowledge this troublesome past, while at the same time being grateful for the man's vision, which has resulted in this first-class institution.

Not wanting to just jump in and take the statue away somewhere, after much careful thought they came up with the re-design of the quad and a new home for "Willy," as the statue has always been called by students. Here he is in his new digs, and down at eye level, as a human being, not held up as some sort of paragon:

He's still in the quad, just off in this attractive corner between the administration building and Sewell Hall. I feel like my alma mater handled this difficult history about as well as it could be handled. They even researched and published a lengthy report on the institution's history with segregation and injustice. I read the whole thing and it's a fascinating, thoughtful analysis of these issues; you can see it here.

Willy's plinth, or at least the base of it, is still in the center of the quad, just not perpendicular to the buildings any more, but at an angle, befitting the new design aesthetic:

I've read that the designers intend for it to be able to be used as a small performance space...maybe when some of those shade trees have grown a bit. I really like the quotation attached to it. Everyone's heard of Kennedy's speech at Rice Stadium, where he talks about going to the moon, but I've never heard this part of the speech before. The guy (or someone who worked for him) really knew how to write speeches, eh?

After a couple of days of contributing a ton of oral history for the University Historian (which brought back so many memories!) we took a tour of another building that wasn't around when we went to school. Just as I was leaving, the Shepherd School of Music was being born, and their enormous, but lovely, building now takes up part of what used to be the stadium parking lot. (It was opened in 1975.) A bit more of that lot was taken to build the new opera house, which was just dedicated in 2022. The Shepherd School is on the right here, and the Brockman Music and Performing Arts Center (the opera house) is on the left. I made sure some of my friends were in the frame so you could see the scale of these behemoths!

We had an informative talk by the Brockman's director, and then got to sit in on a rehearsal, which was super cool...

the hall's impressive ceiling,
with a bit of some of the seating levels

...and what was even more amazing, was a look backstage, and a talk by the guy who almost single-handedly makes all the sets. Here's a piece left over from a previous show, that will probably get used again:

you can almost smell the fresh-cut wood, can't you?

All this grandeur tends to color my memories of the campus now, although whenever I have one of those "there's an exam and I forgot to study!" nightmares, I'm usually on the "ghost campus" as it  was in 1967-71. So walking around is both familiar and strange...a little unsettling, but still worthwhile. (You can read of previous trips to campus, and see other changes and artistic touches, by following the Rice University label on the right.)

I'll close with a shot of the fabulous opera house, looking worthy of being in London or Milan, don't you think?

Gorgeous Gulf

I just realized the other day that I promised a blog post of natural wonders from my trip to Houston last month! I am a bad blogger, but better late than never, I hope.

Galveston, the Gulf and the Bay, were the beaches we visited. Above is the Gulf, on a day windy enough that a dangerous surf warning was up. Here's a look down to the other end of the island:

The windy conditions made the heat and humidity (in November!) easier to take. And it apparently was perfect for the fellows we saw wind-surfing on the Bay side of the island:

looks like fun? maybe?

In addition to nature in the raw, we took in a rather spectacular example of curated nature at the Moody Gardens in Galveston. Wow! What a great zoo/aquarium/botanical garden!

The aquarium section was my favorite. I was pleased to see this nice exhibit of African cichlids, fish that we—in our more energetic younger days—actually kept in a large-ish aquarium. They're really fun fish to watch, as besides being beautiful, they're quite territorial. And the moms incubate the eggs, and even protect the newborn fry, in their mouths! We were so excited the first time we saw little baby cichlids bursting out of a parent's mouth.

the Great Lakes here are African rift lakes, not the US variety

There were all kinds of other great fish displays, including this large cylindrical tank, with nephew and lovely great-niece's curly locks for scale:

One of my favorite class of critters in an aquarium is always the jellyfish, and they had a whole room of them! This was the most striking of the jellyfish tanks:

Our last evening on the coast was when we saw the wind-surfer on the Bay, and were also treated to this lovely sunset. A fitting closure to our brief visit to this very interesting part of our state.

Space City, USA

We packed a lot of sight-seeing into a mini-family-reunion long weekend in Houston last week. Along with, of course, lots of visiting and catching up with far-flung family members. 

A highlight of the trip was the NASA's Space Center Houston. It's changed a lot^{[citation needed]} since we last visited when our kids were little. Wow! What a lot of cool exhibits! Including the space shuttle Independence (see above) that you actually got to go inside. Here's the insanely complicated cockpit:

And it's not just the shuttle that you get to see. It's actually perched on top of a giant airliner, as it was when being transported across the country from the High Desert in California back to Florida for its next launch. Sorry I didn't get pictures of the whole thing for you. But of course the Space Center website has better ones than I could have taken, with video, too.

We also took a couple of their tram tours. Motorized transport is required, since the NASA campus is nothing if not sprawling (so apt, being located in the capital of sprawl itself ). 

We took the two free tours that come with the price of admission. One was to a gigantic building where astronauts train for space station missions. The space was full of space station module mockups and was quite a sight to see. I liked this Russian module that sported decals from all the space station missions:

I took the picture from the raised walkway that you take along one side of the building. You can get a better idea of the scale of the place from the picture on the Space Center's website.

The coolest part of the visit, though, was the tram tour to the "Rocket Park." Inside this massive (because it has to be!) building they've put a Saturn V rocket on its side for you to examine in detail. (You can learn more about this workhorse rocket type from the video in the link above.)

Here's a shot of the gap between stages of the Saturn V:

Note tiny people on the other side of the display for scale!

Probably the most impressive part of this rocket is the hind end. Think about those videos you've seen of rockets blasting off as you stand in front of these behemoths! Again, grandchildren and son-in-law are providing scale for you:

The "hangar" where the giant rocket is housed has a whole side devoted to details of the different Apollo missions, starting with the ill-fated Apollo 1, including the almost-ill-fated Apollo 13, and ending with the last trip to the moon, Apollo 17. Super-interesting stuff.

But the NASA museum wasn't the only flight-related attraction I visited. The other was the Lone Star Flight Museum. It's located at what used to be Ellington Field, an old USAF base that I can hazily remember visiting as a child and where my father did his preflight training after enlisting in WWII.

No longer a military base, it serves small commercial flights and has this very interesting museum, full of vintage restored aircraft, and emphasizing the roles Texas has played in aviation development. We discovered that making it through all the informational exhibits just wasn't possible, given our short time frame. But gawking at all the planes was enough to justify the visit.

I didn't catch the name of the cute Union-Jack-decorated craft hanging from the ceiling, but this one was prominently labeled:

This B-25 wasn't the actual Doolittle raid aircraft, but was intended to show what that plane was like.

As I often do at well-designed museums, I enjoyed the sidelights as well as the main attractions, such as this lovely display of wooden propellers:

The technological marvels on display in this part of Houston were only part of the fun activities that we enjoyed. Next time I'll share some wonders of the natural world that we were able to experience.

Wordless Wednesday: it's chow time!

 

Picnic with history

A lovely picnic spot, you would say, right? And it certainly is! But that's not all you get at Fort Allen Park on the Eastern Promenade in Portland, Maine. It's practically oozing with military history information!

Just take a look at the handy sign on the left (click to enlarge). Wow! Revolutionary and 1812 War stuff, Civil War stuff, Spanish-American War stuff, and a monument to some seriously impressive World War II stuff. 

I'll show you the individual monuments and artifacts from each of these conflicts below. But first you can admire the late afternoon sun on Casco Bay in the picture above. Something about the light at this time of day, at this latitude, makes the water so amazingly, magically, blue. Like, the bluest blue you can imagine!

But now, on to the history.

There is another very useful sign that enumerates the various forts that you can see, or almost see, from this vantage point. 

Early in the nation's history, this area was not only a major industrial area, but also a strategically vital port. Plus, it's the closest our territory gets to those European powers we weren't completely sure bought into our independence. Hence, these fortifications, many of which were built, as you can see, around 1812, when these worries burst into conflict.

Some were also erected during the Civil War, but the main attraction in the park with regard to that war was this:

It was the site of a massive reunion of Grand Army of the Republic vets, which must have been an impressive gathering. (I left the gorgeous Eastern Prom houses in the background of this shot for your enjoyment  ) 

Moving on to 15 or so years after this reunion, we have this impressive piece of artillery:

What's most notable about this gun is where it came from: the Maine...yes, the "Remember the Maine" Maine! But wasn't the Maine sunk, historically astute readers might ask? Of course it was, but somehow this piece of it got recovered. As this plaque verifies:

But I personally don't think this is the most impressive informational plaque in the park. My vote goes to this one:

The Portland isn't here, and actually doesn't exist any more. But the mast you can see on the left in the picture at the top of my post is from it. And in the plaza where it's displayed are some informational panels describing this ship's remarkable record in WWII. Just take a look at those battles listed on the plaque above. I mean, it was everywhere in the Pacific war! All the big battles, for sure. Then to top it off, while the surrender that happened on the Missouri is the famous one, the Portland accepted the surrender of an important naval base at Truk, in the Carolinas, at the same time.

The city of Portland has every right to be proud of its namesake vessel, don't you think?!

Working vacation

 

Of course, when your working vacation happens in a place like this, it can hardly be called working. Especially when you know that at home heat indexes are well into triple digits!

Yes, more work was needed at our Colorado cabin. And more work was accomplished! Just take a look at the rainfall beautifully beading on the newly re-sealed deck!

Even more impressive, I think, was the transformation of the much-weathered railing. You might remember my railing tales from a post from several years ago. Well, lots of sun and snow can really do a number on even the most carefully painted surfaces. Here's a look at one of the worst sections, after some serious scraping...

...and then after priming and repainting—doesn't it look almost brand new?!

(If you look closely at the rear of the top photo you'll see our old DirecTV dish, which friend Garry—who was indispensable in all this work, BTW—thanks so much!—was able to take down, only after we'd both bonked heads on it more than once. And why, you might ask, did we cancel that service? Hint: it wasn't just because the dish was a head-cracking hazard. Because we have good internet in the valley now! Thanks to the ring of satellites put up by someone I'd rather not mention. But they sure work wonderfully, so that we can stream, email, chat, and do everything else we used to have to go somewhere else to do.)

Another reason the "working" part of the vacation was only partly accurate is that there were often afternoon showers, which makes this kind of work impossible. So we really only had to work half days, leaving the afternoons for lazing about, reading, and enjoying displays like these:

Here's a closeup of an even more impressive example of refraction:

Pretty sweet, eh? And the best part is that soon after arriving back home to the sauna of San Antonio, I was able to escape it again for a while. In a completely different direction! I'll tell you about that next time.