A trip in a time warp

On our way in the Vonlane bus

With all the talk about travel bans and meeting cancellations, I’m glad I went to San Antonio just before it got scarier to travel. Don’t think I was exposed—my hands are raw from sanitizing—but two weeks will tell the time.

I went for a meeting of the Alamo Society and stayed at the historic Menger Hotel. Talk about a trip back in time. There were maybe 150 people at the meeting, many of them dedicated to the past—coonskin caps, period costumes, Bowie knives and short muskets. These folks take their history seriously, and they are knowledgeable and dedicated about it. The society had 22 copies of my book and sold them out in the first 15 minutes of the first break, thanks to the hyping by Brian Gibson, society president. As I signed, I chatted with many of them and found we shared a love of Texas history, but they were more

Signing a book for Mike from Crane

who is, like me, an Elmer Kelton fan

knowledgeable than me about many aspects of Alamo history. Especially true for renowned Alamo historian Jack Edmondson, who bought my book and told me I had once rejected a manuscript of his when he submitted it to TCU Press. Blush, gulp, embarrassment.

The Menger was also a step back in time. Built in the late 1850s, it is the second oldest hotel in Texas, beaten by only months by the Excelsior in Jefferson. The hotel has been modernized up to a point. We stayed in the Babe Ruth Suite—a living room and bedroom, all painted a deep avocado green, with flowered, swag draperies and brocade furniture, most of it antique and lovely. It was clearly a suite decorated in the fifties and meant for someone intending a long stay—or permanent residence, as some, particularly widow ladies, used to do back in the day. The kitchen was bigger than mine but without  a single utensil.

The bathroom was up a step, which meant I could not access the facilities without the help of one of my daughters who were with me. There were no grab bars, etc., and they decided the risk was not worth my trying to do it alone. A true inconvenience at three o’clock in the morning.

The Menger seems to be on several levels, with stairs that lead who knows where. It took us a bit to get to the right part of the third floor where our room was. The elevators were small—we could not fit all five of us (two grandsons), my transport chair, and my Rollator in one elevator at the same time. So we traveled in shifts.

We breakfasted in the dining room and found it classically good—white linen tablecloths, a menu that included eggs Sardou (like Benedict but with spinach and artichoke hearts), a genial wait staff—and really slow service.

The hotel wraps around an absolutely charming patio that is surrounded by long, tall windows and small balconies with iron railings that I would not venture out on. It looks like something out of New Orleans. It was too cold for us to enjoy it the two nights we were there, and I was sad about that. A separate patio boasts an inviting swimming pool, which you know was not original to the hotel.

Daughter Megan said we were in San Antonio to experience the entire history thing, and the Menger was part of that, and I’m glad we did it. I’ve heard about the Menger for years, never been there, not sure I’d stay another time although every single staff member we came in contact with was pleasant and helpful. It was that raised bathroom. If you haven’t been, you should go.

Tomorrow: my tour of the Alamo grounds and two fabulous restaurants. San Antonio is a great destination.

with my grandsons at the 

Alamo Society meeting

Aren't they adorable?