Portrait of a Warrior by James Brown

Baytown, Texas is a city of history, industrialization, and growth. Some would say that it is a dead or dying city, and although it isn't necessarily the best and most beautiful, it has rich tradition. It started as 3 separate townships before coming together to form our current city, yet through that time as well as it’s seeming steady back and forth of growth and decay there has always been a common thread through it all; community. Baytown has a history of freedom fighters and honoring them and those that served with them. Their sacrifice has been forever captured and memorialized for all to see, from The San Jacinto Monument (which can be seen from Baytown) honoring the locals and others that fought for Texas independence, to the Baytown Veterans Memorial Plaza at Bicentennial Park honoring the Baytonians that fought and died in the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, and even the seven Astronauts killed in the tragic Challenger explosion of 1986, and the annual Memorial day celebration at Bicentennial park. The desire and tradition of honoring our fallen heroes is something deep rooted not just in Baytown but also in the hearts of Americans all over the world. The death of a soldier is tragic and it brings a community together. This is evident in another memorial, tucked away in a little store but definitely not hidden. As you drive down the historic (now straight) Texas Avenue, you can’t miss the bold red, white and blue painted sign above the entrance and the paintings that line the storefront of the Portrait of a Warrior Memorial Art Gallery. The colors jump from the neutral backdrop of the beige building and explode from the windows against the white walls. They can be seen from a distance and are an assault on the senses. As you walk along the sidewalk in front of the building you are taken by the depictions of soldiers enjoying a break with a Mercedes Benz after a victory over Nazi Germany, celebration with loved ones in America’s streets, the occupation of the Middle East, and the sad reality of a soldier being carried home by his brothers in a casket draped in the red, white and blue flag that he did more than bleed for but died for. Along with this are the faces of twenty-four of these men. Approaching the entrance, you walk into showcase corridor filled with paintings, uniforms and artifacts of war on either side with the glass boasting the name “Portrait of a Warrior.” You are soon met with an eight foot tall, half inch thick glass door. The heavy door swings unnaturally easy but also swings very quickly because of the weight. I was slightly thrown off balance as I pulled the thick glass giant open. The gallery is in an old galley style store, narrow and deep. Down the center there is a six foot, black partition and on either side there are the painting we see outside as well as actual wallet size pictures of the fallen men and women. On the towering, white twelve foot walls on either side, there are portraits from floor to ceiling and from front to back. The portraits along the floor are small, probably 17 inches by 21 inches, while the two rows of portraits above them are very large, about 3 feet by 4 feet, but they are all very bold in color and each tells a story. The background of every portrait proudly boasts a very bright and bold American flag waiving in the wind and in the top right corner of almost every one is the majestic bald eagle. Each portrait is painted with the focus of the picture being the fallen soldier in uniform and they are surrounded by a story of their life; depictions of them and their lives back home, doing what they love, what their passion was, and things and people that were most important to them. Each portrait also has a name plate below it displaying the warriors name. Past all the portraits, in the back of the store, there is a seating area with a television for showing films, an easel, and a computer where the gallery is operated from. In the very back is what appears to be a storage area through a wide doorway.

This memorial didn't start by any goal or mission that some group or individual desired or set out to accomplish initially, but as a favor that grew out of control and took root, one that the community fell in love with and took over the painters heart. As I walked along looking at the black partition, I see a little old man poke his head out from around the back of it. The man looked old with his wrinkly, sun spotted skin, his long white goatee, slightly hunched posture, wearing all denim covered in veteran’s patches, an American flag bandanna around his neck, and a veteran’s hat. As I walked back towards him he asked me if I served in the military and of course I said no. This man was an Air-force veteran by the name of Ken Pridgeon (78). Mr. Pridgeon isn't even a native Baytonian, but a transplant from Florida, and is the artist and owner of “Portrait of a Warrior.” I went to the Memorial Art Gallery to spend some time with Mr. Pridgeon and gain some insight on this memorial. “Wesley Riggs started all of this” said Mr. Pridgeon, “Wesley died in Iraq in 2005. A woman asked me to paint a portrait of him for an event for the Wounded Warriors Project.” He told me that it would've been the last one he did but Jessie Ainsworth was being buried in Dayton that day and someone approached him saying “Ken, you’re gonna have to paint a portrait of Jessie.” Mr. Pridgeon said “I argued with them a bit, but at that time I didn't realize I was going to be on some kind of mission.” He started to paint this portrait and it was like a domino effect. Word started to spread of his paintings of fallen heroes and very soon family after family from all over started asking him to paint their sons and daughters who had fallen in war. There were parents from as far as London that came to him and even local parents who had no idea that he had already heard of their child’s death and started on portraits of them. He even painted a portrait of Nick Marshall, son of local blogger Baytown Bert. Families send pictures of the fallen soldier in uniform and pictures of the solider doing what they love and of them with the people they love for a reference to paint from. I asked him if he charged for the paintings to which he answered with a resounding “NO.” He then told me about the mother of Army Sgt. Shaun Tousha who had heard about the portraits. She called and said “I understand you paint pictures of soldiers and their stories.” Mr. Pridgeon said “yes ma’am” and when she asked how much it cost to have a portrait done, he told her “you already paid the price, he already paid the price, they’re all free, thank ya ma’am.” Mr. Pridgeon pays for everything himself and through donations, and each family gets a print of the portrait. Along with the community, he has been recognized by the Texas House of Representatives commending him for his efforts. When I asked him why he continues to get up every morning and paint these portraits when it was just supposed to be a one time favor Mr. Pridgeon stated “I love what I do, I couldn't quit if I wanted, they all deserve this, and it’s hard to believe sometimes that this is what I get to do all day."

Generally I don’t have a very emotional reaction to things like this. I've always agreed that the fallen should be respected and honored for their service, but with my observation of the direction America is going, I've had a hard time believing in the military, particularly with what they are asked to do and who asked them to do it. I've also been a very disturbed for a long time by the way we “remember” people in America. Whether or not you are a soldier, it seems that all deaths are treated the same way, with the same honor and what seems like the same, insincere, over the top idolization and worship that continues for years upon years out of some sort of social or behavior obligation. I've always been able to understand the family of a fallen warrior honoring them year after year and people showing respect, but what has bothered me is complete strangers showing up and “worshiping” for lack of a better word, paying an inordinate amount of attention. My reaction when I walked into the Portrait of a Warrior Memorial Art Gallery wasn't any different that it would be for other memorials. It was an unemotional reaction but respectful. I didn't feel uncomfortable with what was going on there though. I was simply expecting to walk in, see portraits and talk to the owner then leave, but when I spoke with Mr. Pridgeon and heard the individual stories and even more so the reactions of parents, my heart broke and I couldn't hold back tears. The paintings of the soldiers are uncanny. As I walked through, I came across people I had seen before, Shaun Tousha, Jessie Ainsworth and Pat Tillman, but one of them in particular that I knew a little better was a young man by the name of Jeremy Burris. I know his siblings and have worked with some of his family before in music. His face was unmistakable and i can remember the day the his funeral procession came through town, right past the school I was working for. After getting the tour, Mr. Pridgeon thanked me for coming by and invited me to come back anytime. He firmly shook my hand, walked off, and I slipped back out the front door, stopping to take another long look at the portraits and the gallery before taking my forty minute long drive back to Liberty.

 I feel that Mr. Pridgeons approach is perfectly tasteful and exactly what it should be when it comes to honoring our fallen warriors. It’s a memorial that everyone can see and one that captures each individual and personality, but it’s done between him, the soldier, and the family, which I think is the most beautiful thing. His dedication to memorializing and honoring not only the local heroes but also those from all over America that have fallen for us in our most recent wars is a vein that runs deep, not only in Ken Pridgeon, but through all Baytonians. I believe it is a true testament and image of the community of Baytown, Texas.

Ken Pridgeon (DePrang)

Works Cited

DePrang, Emily. Ken Pridgeon. Digital image. Texasobserver.org. Texasobserver.org, 11 Feb. 2013.                     Web. 12 Nov. 2013
Pridgeon, Ken. Personal Interview. 24 Oct. 2013

Portrait of a Warrior Storefront, Baytown, TX. Personal photograph by author. 2013.

The Pathway To The Past by Arron Landrum

            The Lynchburg Ferry is a great symbol of Baytown and the people who reside there since the people of Baytown and Harris County have kept this ferry running since 1888 for the enjoyment and education of present and future generations for Texans and people all over the world. This ferry crosses the Houston Ship Channel and connects Crosby-Lynchburg Road in Lynchburg to the historic San Jacinto battleground site in La Porte. The Lynchburg ferry is the oldest operating ferry service within the state of Texas and symbolizes Baytown’s long lasting appreciation for knowledge while making it accessible to anyone. The Lynchburg ferry carries cars, bicycles and pedestrians beginning at 4:30 a.m. and operates until 8:15 p.m. Ferries depart daily every 5-10 minutes, and have enough room for 12 vehicles. The Lynchburg ferry on average carries between 1,500-2,000 vehicles per day and has two ships that were built in 1964 by the Todd Shipyard. The ferries are named in honor of the former Texas governors William P. Hobby and Ross S. Sterling. A third ferry with a capacity of 9 vehicles dating from 1937 is always ready in case of an emergency. Remembering back to being a kid and riding the ferry with my parents, I can see myself standing on the side of the ferry looking over into the water anticipating the dock on the other side. Many of the people in Baytown old and young, can recall riding the Lynchburg ferry and remember the ride as I did. This ferry symbolizes Baytown and its people by bringing us together with excitement, anticipation, and a readiness to learn about our history as a city, as a state, and as a united nation.              

              I’m ashamed to say the morning I woke up to make the 50 mile drive to the Lynchburg ferry, I was lackadaisical and nonchalant about getting to see a boat with cars on it. Once I made it to the ferry to take pictures, I had no idea whatsoever of the things that came together almost 200 years ago right where I was standing, the beginning of the Independence of Texas. A man named Nathaniel Lynch built the first ferry to occupy the Houston Ship Channel’s 1,080-foot crossing in 1822. Once the battle of San Jacinto was underway, as many as 5,000 Republic of Texas troops fled from the incoming forces of Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna by using the Lynchburg ferry. Within the next few days, Sam Houston’s army conquered and defeated Santa Anna. By using the ferry as a escape method (which later became known as the “runaway scrape”) Texas could defeat Santa Anna and bring independence to Texas and its people. A year after the battle had ended the Harris County Commissioners decided to place a fee on use of the ferry but in 1890 they did away with all fees, and since then the Lynchburg ferry service is free of charge.  To have a place of such importance in the role of securing freedom in your town would be a great honor and a treasure to those who lived there. Thinking back to the morning I made the drive out to the Lynchburg ferry, I cant help but to wish I would’ve spent less time procrastinating and had more time to experience and enjoy all the history that the historical site had to offer. The Lynchburg ferry has as much importance to Baytown and Texas as it did in securing our freedom as a nation. 

              The long haul from my house in Dayton to Baytown’s own Lynchburg Ferry isn’t something you want to endure on a daily basis, but in the name of good grades and pleased professors I packed my bags and set off. Driving down highway 146 I see nothing besides repeating Fast food conglomerate logos for miles and miles and then I see it, The Stout ferry, branded the William P. Hobby. This powerhouse was a sight for sore eyes as it tugged along the Houston Ship Channel carrying itself back and forth with ease.  After dodging many sketchy fisherman casting out next to the “No Fishing” signs, I pull up to the dock an wait my turn to hop on the back of this beast. Waiting for the ferry I looked across the channel and pictured the men swarming the Lynchburg Ferry to escape certain death at the hands of Santa Anna, then shortly after, the men regroup, grab their guns, and set off again to rebel against the General and his army. Immediately, urgency was instilled in me to make more of this vision and learn everything this place could teach.  A site like this radiates and covers Baytown with History and Pride. As the ferry bumps against the dock I pull forward and finally get out of my car. Standing on the edge of the ferry I felt the mist hit my face with a silent ferocity that gave me definition of my surroundings, while looking into the waves I envied the men who made it back and forth across this channel almost two hundred years ago and lived to tell the tale of the freedom gained that day with guns, sacrifice and love for your land.

 Works Cited:

Www.harriscountyprecint2.com/infrastructure/Lynchburg-ferry (web) Nov. 10 2013.

Diana J. Kleiner, "LYNCH'S FERRY," Handbook of Texas Online (http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/rtl01), accessed November 11, 2013. Published by the Texas State Historical Association. (Web)

Coach Joe Yanak/ World History teacher (interview)

The Friday Night Lights of Stallworth Stadium by Sean Lamb

           Stallworth Stadium has been a part of Baytown’s life for a long; to some Stallworth stadium is just a football field but to most it’s a source of memories and opportunities involving the community.

            Stallworth Stadium has been the center of many memories made by the people of Baytown like first high school football game, the meeting of a new friend, marching onto the field for the first time and many more. My parents used to take me to the Ross S. Sterling football games years ago; when we walked in all you could hear where loud and screaming fans it always felt exhilarating, heart pumping just to hear all of the fans cheering for their team. It was like the whole crowd where together as a community just to cheer on the home football team. When I got into high school I was in the marching band so every Friday night we had to perform a marching show at halftime. I remember the first night we marched at Stallworth stadium that same feeling from when I was a kid came back to me, my heart pounding about to jump out of my chest from being nervous. When we got on the field the crowd was so loud that I couldn’t even hear the band director giving us instructions on what we should be doing. Though I knew that the crowd wasn’t there for us it felt good to think that they were. Stallworth stadium is a huge part of Baytown life it has been allowing great memories like this to be created all the time to everyone that shows up there and hopefully to everyone who attends in the future.

           During the day the parking lot of Stallworth stadium is used as a bus barn for the busses of Goose Creek independent school district, but by night the stadium becomes full of loud and crazy sports fan from all over Baytown.  Stallworth stadium houses multiple different events like football, soccer and many other ceremonies.  Before the stadium was built they used to play all of their games at Sultis stadium but the stadium became too small trying to house both Lee and Sterling High school.  So in 1969 they opened up a huge stadium on a neutral site that was not on either of the school’s grounds and named it Stallworth stadium. This stadium holds about 16,500 people, made almost entirely out of concrete and has an artificial turf field making it the perfect field for Baytown. This stadium has been home to many events, but the biggest one is good old American football.  Three local high schools claim the home side of this field, Ross S. Sterling, Robert E. Lee, and Goose Creek Memorial high school.  Every Friday night during the season there are hundreds of people there watching the game under the massive field lights cheering on their school team.  Sometimes they even get special guest like, on October 29, 1976, President Gerald Ford attended a Robert E. Lee football game, which the Lee Ganders one thirty four to zero against Aldine-McArthur. Stallworth stadium also used to host the Bay area Relay for Life but due to the parking lot being a bus barn they were forced to move it to the Royal Purple Raceway.  Stallworth stadium is has been a huge part of Baytown’s life since 1969 and hopefully will stay in their lives for many more years to come.(Sports Staff Reports)(Texas Football Stadiums)

          As I drive down Archer road I can see the sun hanging in the sky and just underneath that I can start to see the stadium lights peak over the row of trees and houses almost greeting me to Stallworth stadium. I pull into the parking lot where it is extremely difficult to navigate through the busses, as it is used for a bus during the day, and I am finally able to find a spot to park my truck. I get out and I walk to the front gate, the wind blowing in my face and the gravel shifting back and forth underneath my feet as I walk up to the huge black metal gate. I put my hand on the gate and push as hard as I can to open it but unfortunately its locked so I get back in my truck and decide to try back that night when I know it would be open for the football game that night. So I go through the same process again but this time instead of the parking lot being filled with busses it is filed with all of the vehicles of high school football fans from all over Baytown.  So I go to buy a ticket from the ticket booth and am finally able to go inside Stallworth stadium. When I walk in to the stadium all I can hear are the screaming fans cheering for their team; I walk up the extremely steep concrete ramp up to the stands with all of the fans. I get to the top and I see all of the fans screaming and cheering for their football team on the field, almost every one of them all together on wanting the same thing, for their team to win the game. This stadium is bringing them all together, whether they know it or not, for a common goal to cheer on their team to victory. I find a cold metal seat to watch the game from and through the course of the four quarters I saw all kinds of reactions and emotions come from the fans, some boos, cheering, grunting, screaming, and some verbal acknowledgment of which I probably shouldn't repeat in this entry. Its half time and the football team leaves the field and people start to leave to try to get last minute snacks from the concession stands but there are others who are still glued to the field to see the bands perform their show for the audience; halftime is over and the game continues. The fourth quarter is over and the stadium starts to clear out so I start to head out too, trying to get out of this parking lot was almost as bad as the busses just sitting there earlier that day but I am eventually able to get out. I take a quick glance back toward the stadium through the rear view mirror of my truck seeing the lights slowly start to shut off as Stallworth stadium is slowly emptying and closing down the gates until the next week.

Work Cited

1.Sports Staff Reports. “Stallworth’s Top 10 at 35.” The Baytown Sun. Baytown. Aug. 25, 2005

2.Texas Football Stadiums. “Stallworth.” Texasbob. March. 25, 2010