by Randy Willis

My love for state and national parks began at Garner State Park in Texas when I was nine. But soon spread to America’s National Parks. —Randy Willis

Let’s go to Garner State Park

My son Adam Willis is dreaming in the Garner State Park Pavilion parking lot.

Within a decade, I had taken my three sons to Garner State Park. No, they were not barbecuing cabrito, but hot dogs.

Josh, Aaron, and Adam Willis at the Garner State Park Pavilion Dance.

My son Aaron Willis is at the top of the rope swing over the Frio River. Garner State Park.

A side trip above from Garner State Park to Ciudad Acuña en México.

Another side trip above from Garner State Park to Ciudad Acuña en México.

We spend three weeks each summer discovering America’s National Parks. We carried a tent so my sons could enjoy the outdoors at night. The exception was when we camped in Grizzly bear country.

My three songs and my mother in the background, camping in Kaibab National Forest, bordering Grand Canyon National Park.

We have all seen a million photos of the Grand Canyon. But nothing can compare to when you first walk to the awe-inspiring view that takes your breath away.

Another summer. Lunch on the banks of the Snake River south of Jackson, Wyoming, after removing our wet clothes. We had just whitewater rafted the Snake River. A few photos are below.

Adam Willis is smiling, and I’m to the right in the red striped shirt.

Adam Willis and I on the Snake River.

Josh Willis on the Snake River.

At camp that night, Josh built the fire for our supper. He still does that.

Josh Willis and I. Jackson Hole’s Town Square. One of the four Elk Antler Arches. Clint Eastwood fought under this arch in the movie Any Which Way You Can.

Aaron, Randy, Josh, and Adam Willis. Grand Teton National Park

Josh Willis. Grand Teton National Park

Josh, Aaron, and Adam Willis with the rainbow in the distance through the Royal Gorge bridge.

Josh, Aaron, and Adam Willis. Monument Valley, where many John Wayne movies were filmed.

That is me to the left inside the Chapel of the Transfiguration, a small log chapel in Grand Teton National Park, in the community of Moose. I have never shared the photo before because you can not make me out. The older I get, the more I realize it should be none of me, but all of the cross of Calvary with the Light aluminating the symbol my Savior and Lord Jesus Christ bled and died on for me, and you too.

If I were to share the verse that best describes my life, it would be Joshua 24:13, for I have done nothing to deserve the blessings God has given me.

 I have given you a land for which you did not labor, and cities which you did not build, and you dwell in them; you eat of the vineyards and olive groves which you did not plant. —Joshua 24:13

Today, we take a different type of RV, known as a jet, and camp in an Airbnb. Last year, my grandson Corbin, my son Adam, and I visited Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Cobin and I plan to take a trip this summer to flyfish the Gibbon River in Yellowstone.

Corbin and Adam Willis. Jackson Hole Airport

Adam and Cobin Willis under the same Elk Antler Arch in Jackson Hole.

Adam and Corbin Willis. Cottonwood Creek flows into Jenny Lake. Grand Teton National Park

My grandson Corbin Willis swam across String Lake and back. Grand Teton National Park. He requested I do the same. I declined to even wade into the water from melting snow and ice. I’ve promised to do this this year, though. Wade, not to swim across.

Corbin Willis is ready for whitewater rafting on the Snake River last year.

Bald eagle nests in a tall cottonwood tree along the Snake River. Photo by Corbin Willis.

My grandson Corbin Willis and I were at Old Faithful in Yellowstone last year. I’m forced to dye my hair grey these days. At least that’s what I tell my grandchildren.

My love for state and national parks began at Garner State Park in Texas when I was nine. This is that story.

Let’s Go to Garner State Park

The Garner State Park Pavilion Fun for all ages.

On the 3rd of July in 1969, my best friend Glen Hardwick and I set out on a trip to Garner State Park. We were to meet John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, and my cousin Don Sweat the next day, on Friday, the 4th of July, at noon at the Garner State Park Pavilion.

We would then travel to Ciudad Acuna across the border from Del Rio. It was the “thing” to do on the weekends. I have known John Rodriguez since 1966.

Glen and I stayed the first night at his father, M. Warren Hardwick, M.D., 2,000-acre ranch, 20 miles north of Garner State Park, 10 miles North of Leakey. The Hardwick family was from my hometown of Angleton, Texas. Angleton was 30 minutes north of Freeport, where Don Sweat and Corky Parker lived.

Glen’s mother, Mrs. Hardwick, never allowed Glen to have a key. In those days, few people had maids. But Dr. and Mrs. Hardwick did. Glen had never made a bed or washed a dish in his life. Later, when Glen and I rented at Malibu Apartments in San Marcos during our days at Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State University), I discovered the wisdom of Mrs. Hardwick. I moved out after one semester into a travel trailer at Pecan Park.

Therefore, when we arrived at their ranch, we slept on two old army cots outside in sleeping bags. It was heaven to me under the clear, blue Texas Hill Country sky’s starry nights.

After college, I moved to the Texas Hill Country because of this experience. I am still there. I can see 50 miles from my bedroom’s deck. Those “starry, starry nights,” as Don McLean expressed in “Vincent,” have never ceased to amaze me.

In Brazoria County, from which we all grew up, the mosquitoes would have devoured me. None of the streams, bayous, or the Brazos River was cold and clear, but they were murky and warm, not to mention the water moccasins. And the humidity could be stifling.

The Frio River was as cold as ice, hence its name, which means “cold” in Spanish. You could have read a book at the bottom of the Frio. That’s how crystal clear the water was. It was paradise for a bunch of kids from the Texas Gulf Coast.

We also often swam in the Blue Hole on the Hardwick Ranch. During this week, we brought a friend from Angleton when we discovered she was staying at Garner. We did this often. The legal drinking age in Texas in 1969 was 21. We were all teenagers.

On Friday, July 4, we headed to Garner to meet John Rodriguez, Don Sweat, and Corky Parker. Then perhaps to Old Mexico for the 4th of July weekend. The three of them made that trip often on Fridays.

On our way to Garner, we passed an old man “hotfooting” it on the shoulder of the road, walking toward Leakey. Glen said, “That old man looks like my grandpa.”

As we passed the old man, Glen said, “That is grandpa.” We turned around and gave him a ride to the ranch. It was 12 miles away. He said he had broken down in a “new” used Border Patrol jeep a few miles back towards Garner. Dr. Hardwick had bought the jeep at auction to scare off illegal aliens from Mexico. They had broken into their modest ranch house, looking for food and other things.

During the 1960s, the United States Border Patrol vehicles were standardized to an iconic “Seafoam Green” color. This light green, almost mint-colored shade was recognizable from a mile away by friend and foe. Dr. Hardwick parked it next to their modest farm home on the ranch.

Today you can only see them in museums. During the 1960s, the United States Border Patrol vehicles were standardized to an iconic “Seafoam Green” color. This light green, almost mint-colored shade was recognizable from a mile away by friend and foe.

Glen’s grandpa thought nothing of hiking the 12-to 14-mile stretch through the hills to the ranch. I told Glen that we might miss Rodriguez, Sweat, and Parker at the Garner Pavilion because of the delay. Little did we know that those plans had already been upended.

When we arrived on Friday, the 4th of July, we discovered that Rodriguez was in jail in Uvalde, Texas. The park was ablaze with the story that he had stolen a goat. How could a $20 Spanish goat get someone arrested? We did not realize that the victim was an Angora goat.

The high-quality mohar was worth hundreds of dollars. Enough to be a felony, not a mere misdemeanor. Angora goats were expensive. So valuable was their mohar that the all-time production peak occurred three years before.

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John (Juan) Rodriguez (later known as Johnny) from Sabinal, Corky Parker, and Donald “Don” Sweat, from Freeport, have told me this story numerous times.

I called Corky Parker and Don Sweat this week (April, 2026) to make sure I remembered the story accurately. I also discussed the details with Bob “Bullet” Naegelin on Facebook. Thomas “Twig” Phillips called me.

But the only living eyewitness, save one, to the actual goat rustling was Charles Gammill. Today, April 28, 2026, I spoke at length with him by phone. He, too, was from Freeport and a neighbor of Sweat.

Johnny Rodriguez’s first manager, Happy Shahan, took all these sorted details and condensed them into a story for a press release long ago. Once you read through the many twists and turns, you can understand why he streamlined the events. Now, grant it, no one realized that Rodriguez, especially him, would have to tell this story for the next six decades.

Little did Shahan know that his press release would forever be considered the “Bible” for the start of Johnny’s career.

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The True Story

Just the Facts

As the Garner dance ended on a hot summer night, Texas Parks and Wildlife Ranger Davenport made the rounds. He informed John Rodriguez, Charles Gammill, Corky Parker, and Don Sweat that they needed to leave the park because they were unchaperoned. Gammill had ridden at the last “minute” to Garner with Corky Parker. Garner State Park had a daily curfew. The gates were locked during this curfew.

The park ranger knew them all, and they all knew the drill. Ranger Davenport was always courteous, saying “I’m sorry,” then explaining he was only following the rules.

They drove to a roadside park eight miles south of Garner. The roadside park was at the intersection of Hwy 83 and 127 at Concan. Twig said he had hitchhiked home to Northshore in Houston by then.

There were no nearby corner convenience stores in those days. Nor did anyone have much money, even if there was.

But what there was was 10 or 12 hungry teenagers at the roadside park, one of them being a Mexican with a talent for barbecuing cabrito (a young goat). His name was John “Juan” Rodriguez. Not only was there no substantial food at the roadside park, but the next day was also the 4th of July, to boot. A time to celebrate.

John Rodriguez from nearby Sabinal, Charles Gammill from Freeport, and another teenager who had a two-door red Pontiac traveled north on Hwy 83 past Garner, then east on FM 1050 toward Upopia, Texas.

After a failed attempt to capture a deer on the side of the road. They almost flipped the car chasing the deer. But then Rodriguez spotted a goat just across a fence in a creek bed.

He yelled, ” Stop!” They stop at Cherry Creek and the Bob Davis Ranch, past the Frio River, east of Garner State Park on FM 1050.

Before Charles Gammill and the driver (no one can remember his name) from Junction, Texas, could climb out of the car, Rodriguez had already bailed out, jumped the fence, and captured the goat. The Sabinal halfback was fast. Well, fast enough for a goat in a creek bed but not a deer.

Charles Gammill told me how he became involved. “Randy, Corky pulled into my driveway in his brother’s Mustang, hopping out, saying, “Let’s go to Garner.” I ran into my house, grabbed some cut-offs. I stopped on my way out of the house and grabbed grape jelly, peanut butter, ketchup, mustard, and an old hickory butcher knife.”

Charles Gammill fast-forwarded to the goat rustling caper: “As Johnny and I were driving off from the roadside park to locate goat, a friend from Freeport named ‘Big Shot,’ Joe Jackson was hollering we could use his grape jelly, ketchup, and mustard to make Coonass BBQ.” Coonass BBQ refers to Louisiana Cajun-style cooking.

Gammill’s mother’s old hickory butcher knife was used to butcher the goat. Gammill had only been to Garner a couple of times, and now he’s involved in a possible felony, and his mother’s bloody knife is evidence of said crime. Such is why mothers get grey hair very young.

Waiting there with the BBQ pit fired up are friends Corky Parker, Don Sweat, and assorted hay-hauling comrades. Bob “Bullet” Naegelin told me he was not there. Thomas “Twig” Phillips said he had hitchhiked home to Northshore in Houston by then.

John Rodriguez burns the goat’s ears in the BBQ pit first, according to Corky. Angora goat brands are typically placed on the ears. With the evidence burned, let the barbequing begin.

Nick Finley’s Dad owned a ranch 20 miles south of Concan in Knippa, Texas, between Sabinal and Uvalde. Nick had a place to sleep and eat at their home. It would serve him well that night. I was asleep 30 miles to the North under the stars at the Hardwick Ranch. That, too, would serve me well that night.

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Nick Finley and a group of seven friends would haul hay in a horse trailer to Nick’s father’s barn. Each day, Nick’s father, who was also named Nick, would bring two sacks of groceries for them to eat. As you may have gleaned, no one had much money, so finding your next meal was crucial. It was more important than meeting a pretty girl at Garner. That is, unless her mother would feed you.

It was also a common bond that brought everyone together as friends. Sharing is a wonderful way to build lifelong friendships. These friendships have lasted to this day, although some are from Heaven.

John Rodriguez basted the cabrito on the grill at the Concan roadside park with grape jelly, mustard, and ketchup, according to John Rodriguez, Don Sweat, Corky Parker, and Charles Gammill.

Sometimes, ears of corn, watermelons, or assorted vegetables “borrowed” from nearby roadside farms were an added side dish, but not that night. Everyone at the roadside park was welcome.

The traditional hay-hauling group was Nick Finley, John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, Donald Sweat, Bob “Bullet” Naegelin, Thomas “Twig” Phillips, Joey Swansey, also from Freeport, and Lenny Moore from Victoria. And others from time to time.

Corky Parker told me he would go to the Kinkaid Hotel in Uvalde to receive a $20 wire transfer from his father back home as needed. If it had not arrived, the kind lady at the desk would assure him with, “I’m sure it will arrive soon. It always does.”

Hauling hay was what many teenagers did in Texas to earn a few dollars. Billy Adams and I would haul 100 bales a day in Brazoria County after school for eight cents a bale, loaded in his father’s barn. With my $4.00, share I could buy a new pair of Wrangler jeans from our Sears, Roebuck catalog for $3.25. And sometimes Levi’s were on sale at our local department store. But in Uvalde County, the pay was not that high. John Rodriguez and friends were paid for a day’s work, with two bags of groceries to be shared by eight hungry teenagers. But no one complained.

I was a day late, or was it two for the goat-rustling? And I was thankful for that, for my Dad made it clear numerous times that if I was ever arrested, don’t call him.

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Two weeks before John Rodriguez and his friends barbecued their goat at the roadside park in Concan, another group of about 15 teenagers stole a goat and hung it from a tree at the original Garner entrance on US Highway 83, which was no longer in use.

Thus began the domino toppling, which led to an unbelievable chain of events and to the future stardom of one of the earlier goat rustlers.

The original Garner State Park entrance on US Highway 83. Today, the entrance is on FM 1050. This is the old, closed entrance where the group hung a goat in a tree. Not exactly the most secluded place to do so. The law was sure to stop and make sure the underage teenagers were not drinking alcohol, not to mention trespassing.

For those who might wonder why all the fuss over a goat. Perhaps a quote from the famed Houston criminal defense lawyer of yesteryear will suffice.

“I’m often asked why there is such a great variation among sentences imposed by Texas judges. I can only quote the Texas judge who was asked why a killer sometimes doesn’t even get indicted and a cattle thief can get ten years. The judge answered: “A lot of fellows ought to be shot, but we don’t have any cows that need stealing.” —Famed Houston, Texas defense attorney Percy Foreman

The Utopia Constable located them at the Garner State Park Pavilion at the nightly dance. He informed them one by one, as he scrolled around the dance floor, that Sheriff Kenneth Kelley wanted to talk to them the next morning, Thursday, July 3, at 8:00 am sharp at his office in Uvalde. They were pertified, wondering why. And why all three?

The Garner State Park Pavilion. You could buy hot dogs, burritos, chalupas, ice cream, and popsicles for a quarter at the pavilion’s grill (front left). If you knew someone with a quarter, you could. When burritos went to 50 cents, I was devastated.

Corky Parker informed Constable Jackson that he was headed home to Freeport the next morning and would be unable to visit with the sheriff. Perhaps some other time.

The Constable’s response was that a judge would issue a warrant for his arrest if he did not appear posthaste at the Uvalde County Sheriff’s office at 8:00 am the next morning. He also said, “We know you are currently living in Clute, not Freeport.” That got his attention to the matter’s seriousness.

The three of them hopped into Corky’s brother’s 1966 teal Mustang 289 and drove to the High Sheriff Kenneth Kelley’s office.

Not the same Mustang, but you get the idea. It was a hot car.

As Corky put the Mustang’s 4-speed manual transmission into high gear, they all agreed, saying over and over as Corky drove, “Don’t admit to nothing.” They had no clue why all three of them had caught Sheriff Kelly’s attention.

There, Sheriff Kenneth Kelley interviewed them one by one in his office, with John Rodriguez being the last.

When Sheriff Kelly walked out with his arm around John, he said, “You two can go home; he’s staying with us.” The Sheriff explained that Corky and Donald were not from that area; therefore, they did not realize the importance of Angora goat ranching to the local economy. Brazoria County was cow country, not goat country.

Sheriff Kelly called Corky and Donald “city boys.” But John Rodriguez was a local boy who knew better. Rodriguez ended the talk by taking the blame.

“I did it, I admit it, I was alone, so ya’ll can all head home,” John said.

Rodriguez was held in the Uvalde jail because he owed $250 for a prior public drinking charge. He had no money for bail, so he was to serve several days’ time. 

Time enough to sort out the felony goat incident, even though it was a holiday weekend. On Tuesday, July 8, 1969, Rodriguez’s bond was set at $25,000. John Rodriguez remained incarcerated in the Uvalde County Jail.

The charge was Larceny. The offense description was “Theft of Goat.”

Below is the submitted records request to the Uvalde County Jail.

Two local boys: John Rodriguez (Sabinal) and Bob “Bullet” Naegelin (Hondo), 1968. The girl was from Sabinal, too.

Sheriff Kelly read off a list of dates to John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, and Donald Sweat, detailing which goats had previously been stolen. The Bob Davis Ranch was not the only victim.

He also said that when the group that had been arrested two weeks earlier by Utopia Constable J.R. Jackson at the Old Garner entrance and was interrogated, they were asked how they knew where to locate a goat to slaughter. They were not from that area.

We all know the drill from TV. “If you tell us the truth, you can go free.” The question two weeks later became who threw John Rodriguez and his cohorts under “the proverbial bus” to save their hide.

Could it have been Hall from Freeport, Moore from Angleton, or Green from D’Hanis? Doubtful since the “snitch” could only recall nicknames and a Mexican kid who sang around Garner.

A couple of them (unnamed), according to Sheriff Kelly, said, “A Mexican kid who sings around Garner told them. He was with two guys with nicknames like Sweat and Corky.” It didn’t take long at Garner for the Sheriff’s Department, led by Utopia Constable J.R. Jackson, to figure out who the nicknames belonged to and “connect the dots.” And the Mexican kid that sings around Garner” was a slam dunk.

No one remembered Charles Gammill, from Freeport. Charles Gammill told me he figured it was because he did not have an easy-to-remember nickname. And he was not a Garner “regular.” Nevertheless, his name was never mentioned by Constable J.R. Jackson and Sheriff Kelly. Gammill had “dodged the bullet.”

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Throughout his life, John would say to me, “Colonel, It doesn’t take me long to examine a horseshoe.” He took the blame. All of it. If he hadn’t, I suspect they would have discovered Charles Gammill’s involvement, not to mention the driver of the red Pontiac that legendary night.

Texas Ranger Juaquin Jackson had heard the teenager John Rodriguez sing around Garner State Park.

What if Juaquin could get him a job at Alamo Village, where John Wayne filmed The Alamo? Perhaps he could sing there in the Shoot ‘ Em Up skits as a cowboy singer. Juaquin Jackson was friends with the owner.

Perhaps Rodriguez could even drive a stagecoach and sing in the Mexican Cantina at Alamo Village, a tourist attraction. The same one in the movie. It didn’t pay much, but it was far better than jail for goat rustling. One thing was for sure: he would need a better job than singing for free around Garner to get probation, or even better, have the charges dismissed.

Juaquin Jackson drove John Rodriguez to meet the owner of Alamo Village, Happy Shahan.

Joaquin Jackson would later write in his memoir, One Ranger: A Memoir, about Johnny Rodriguez.

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In my mind, the true story is better than Happy Shahan’s press release, although no one would have printed it, for it is too complicated and long a story for an unknown singer.

If fairness to Happy, no one knew Johnny Rodriguez would have six number-one hits within the next four years of the goat-rustling. Imagine having to back that press release thousands of times in interviews. Surely it would fade away. It didn’t. And every time he tried to amend it, people were offended, saying, “He lied.”

No Mexican in country music history had that many hits. In fact, no Mexican had a top 10 hit in country music history before then. When Johnny Rodriguez’s first 15 singles all became top ten hits, there was no going back on the “goat story.” If he had, that’s all that would have been discussed, not the music.

He would eventually say to his fans and interviewers, “I can’t remember. Ask Corky Parker, he knows.” Well, my friends, I have taken Johnny’s advice. Corky has read and edited this story for me. So has Charles Gammill, the only witness to the actual goat thief, along with John Rodriguez, except for the driver of the red Pontiac, who was never seen again.

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Over the past six decades, hundreds have claimed to have been with Johnny Rodriguez during his arrest for goat rustling. If everyone who said they had been there were there, Garner State Park could not have held them.

There were three brought in for questioning: Johnny “John” Rodriguez, from Sabinal; Corky Parker; and Donald “Don” Sweat, from Freeport. That’s all, folks. As Johnny would often say, “Case settled.”

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My cousin, Jerry Kennedy, signed Johnny Rodriguez to Mercury Records. Yes, yet another cousin. I have written that story too. Go figure. Here is a link to Jerry Kennedy’s story: https://randywillisbooks.com/jerry-kennedy-music/

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Let’s Go to Garner State Park

Johnny Rodriguez was not the first to sing at Garner State Park. B.J. Thomas and Roy Head did a decade before. B.J. Thomas and the Triumphs’ Garner State Park was released in 1964.

The lyrics begin with:

In the western part of Texas
90 miles from of San Antone
There’s a place I go each summer
When I get the urge to roam

I stand out on the highway
If I couldn’t catch a ride I’d walk
To Garner State Park
Let’s go to Garner State Park
Come on along to Garner State Park

Where the prettiest girls in Texas.

My family began traveling to Garner State Park when I was nine. There were four holidays when the park was the “place to go.” These holidays were Easter, Memorial Day, the 4th of July, and Labor Day. We could not afford but one of these every year or two. Independence Day was the most popular.

Randy Willis and his sister Marjorie after their trip to Garner. A motel in Uvalde, Texas. 1959

Garner State Park in the Texas Hill Country, known for the crystal clear Frio River, was paradise to me. The frigid waters are overshadowed by Old Baldy, a limestone bluff over 1,800 feet tall.

Each night, we would take our lawn chairs to the dance floor at the Garner Pavilion. We watched young and old dance the “Garner Whip,” Texas two-step, waltzes, and an occasional jitterbug. Everyone danced to the jukebox’s music from huge speakers in a giant oak tree.

During the day, our group would attempt to sharpen our skills with the Garner Whip between swimming breaks in the Frio to cool off. It was a necessary requirement to romance a pretty girl that night on the dance floor. I was tall and clumsy and never mastered dancing.

Juan Raoul Davis Rodriguez did. He also had the charm of a movie star. I was a hayseed cowboy on my best day.

And occasionally, touch football games and an excursion or two to Old Mexico. Swinging off the rope swings into the Frio far below was our greatest risk. Or hiking up Old Baldy. Or an occasional sandwich from a girl’s Mama’s camp.

Little did I realize how much this park would play a role in my life. And most of all, the many friendships that have lasted to this day.

My son Josh dropped from the rope swing into the Frio River a generation later.

The Frio River is overshadowed by Old Baldy. Garner State Park.

The second of three Garner State Park entrances.

Bob “Bullet” Naegelin on the far left. Randy Willis, in the blue shirt, is leaning over, touching his shoe. John Rodriguez with the guitar.

Easter 1969. Garner State Park Pavilion. In two months, the 4th of July will be celebrated & Johnny Rodriguez will be in jail. Photo: Johnny Rodriguez, Randy Willis, Scott Cummings, Grady Dansby, Dennis Billings, and John Levee. All of us were from Brazoria County except Rodriguez.

Dancing the Garner Whip to the jukebox was the way to meet girls. I was over 6′ 5′ 1/2 and could not dance a lick. I once walked a girl to her mother’s camp after the dance ended. I decided it was now or never and leaned over in the pitch dark to kiss her goodnight. I missed her mouth and kissed her on the nose. I never walked another girl to their camp.

Don Sweat is seated to the far right.

Nick Finley. RIP, my friend.

My cousin, Don Sweat, was teaching the Garner Whip to Joe Howard. He did this in a Garner screen shelter for the dance that night. Easter, 1969.

And yes, there were many young women from Brazosport. Karen Murphy from Freeport is to the far right.

A group from Garner at Dr. M. Warren Hardwick’s Ranch. I’m in my Angleton High School #76 football jersey. I could not afford a camera, much less the cost of developing film, but Dr. Hardwick’s son, Glen, could. The downside is that he appears in only a few of these photos because he was always the one who took them. Oh well, being poor has its benefits.

I took this photo in the Frio River below the Garner State Park Pavilion. Dennis Billings (second from the left). The two girls are Janet Blalock and her sister Jackie Blalock in the curlers, no doubt for the dance that night. 4th of July, 1970.

Don Sweet and I were at the Garner Pavilion. We had just finished a swim in the Frio River. The river ran just a few yards below.

Yes, Garner had its legends. Nick Finley, behind Don Sweat and me, was one of them. Sadly, Nick died in 2018. A memorial service was held at the Garner State Park Pavilion. There was a church service, storytelling, and music. I’ve been told more than once that he requested his ashes be spread on the Garner State Park dance floor. Texas Parks and Wildlife refused that request. I am not sure of the validity of that story. But what I am sure of is that everyone loved Nick Finley.

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Once we began making a decent living, Mrs. Crosby’s in Acuña was Johnny’s and my favorite place to eat in Old Mexico. Mrs. Crosby was a dear friend of ours.

“Ma Crosby,” as she was known, personally greeted every patron. She was protective of us. Once, when my date took two shots of tequila in a row, Ma Crosby approached her. “Honey, you need to slow down; you have not eaten yet,” she said.

My date assured her she was fine as she passed out for a few minutes.

Ma Crosby opened the restaurant in 1915. It was super clean and had the best Mexican Food on the border. We once called her in advance to see if we could have Queliteas with stuffed quail. “No hay problema,” she said.

Many celebrities dined at the famed restaurant, which closed in 1983. The restaurant is mentioned in George Strait’s 1981 song Blame It on Mexico. George, too, swam at Garner State Park.

George Strait asked the writer of All My Ex’s Live in Texas if he could change “Brazos River” to “Frio River” in the song. George sang it as: “I remember that old Frio River, where I learned to swim.”

Sanger D. “Whitey” Shafer, the writer, was born in Whitney, Texas, near Waco. The Brazos River flows through there.

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John Rodriguez. The photo was not taken on the day we met.

As mentioned above, John, now known as Johnny, and I met as teenagers at Garner State Park. I had heard he could sing, so I asked to meet him.

In his memoir, Johnny Rodriguez, Desperado, in Chapter 3, titled “Garner State Park,” our first encounter is recorded. I should add parenthetically that I have never read the book, although I’ve been mailed a dozen copies. In other words, I cannot validate the book’s accuracy, but this page is “spot on.”

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After all, I had booked B.J. Thomas once and only once at the time. He played at my high school prom in Angleton. This was after hearing him several times at the Brazoria County Fairgrounds on Saturday night.

When Johnny strolled up with a guitar, I was sitting on a Garner State Park bench. He said, “I’m John Rodriguez,” and smiled.

“I hear you can sing. Do you mind singing one for me?” I said.

John lifted his guitar and sang a Marty Robbins hit, “You Gave Me a Mountain.”

“Yep, you can sing,” I said. “I met a girl whose mother will feed us. Want to join me?” None of us had much more than a few coins. Meeting a girl at Garner whose mama would feed us was a necessity for survival. If her daughter were pretty, that was the “icing on the cake.” Such was Ma Barker’s daughter.

This is a photo of a legendary mother’s camp at Garner, “Ma Barker.” Front left in orange is her beautiful daughter, Denise Barker. John and I both had a crush on her. In fact, every dude at Garner did. Not sure whether John and I received a sandwich that day, but I did manage to take this photo. I keep up with Denise from afar on Facebook these days. Garner was all about family, friends, and fun.

Twenty-five years later, John and I would return to the Bob Davis Ranch. Larry Holden with Country Weekly had set up the reunion. When I told Johnny about the invitation, he said, “Do you think they’re still mad?”

I smiled. “Do you know how many goats they’ve sold because of the publicity?

He always responded to me when a definitive point was made. “Case settled, Colonel,” he would say. Colonel, after Colonel Tom Parker, was the nickname he gave me after I negotiated a deal he said I would never be able to land. I called him “Boy Wonder,” after his first #1 record.

Johnny Rodriquez & Randy Willis, 25 years later at the Bob Davis Ranch

Johnny Rodriquez & Randy Willis, 25 years later, at the Bob Davis Ranch with the Davis descendants. And a few weeks later, I produced the Garner State Park Homecoming Concert for Texas Parks & Wildlife. It was the first of three.

Texas Parks & Wildlife produced this video for the above event.

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It was not all healthy. It was at the height of the Vietnam War. Psychedelic drugs became popular with a few of our so-called hippie friends. But not us. My friend Diane Gray did get involved. I loved Diane, although we never dated.

She was a kind and gentle soul. Note the peace sign in the photo. She was the first person I knew who did that. And yes, it symbolized opposition to the Vietnam War and later became associated with Peace and Love. It was the perfect symbol for her. It should have been for all of us.

Her father was a medical doctor and friends with Glen Hardwick’s father, Dr. Hardwick. Dr. Gray owned a home on the San Bernard River in Brazoria County.

Diane invited Glen Hardwick and me to watch the first moon landing there on July 20, 1969. Just three months later, her boyfriend, Joey Swansey, from Freeport, took this photo.

Sadly, a few years later, Diane took her own life. Joey Swansey’s brother, Jackie Swansey, died in a tragic accident in the army. Two friends gone too soon.

Diane Gray’s screened shelter at Garner State Park. None of us could afford such opulence. We were packed into her shelter to escape the rain.

That’s me on the far left and Glen Harwick in the center with his arm around the girl. Why does that not surprise me?

Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico by Johnny Rodriguez

We didn’t always ride our thumb to Mexico, as Johnny later wrote. Sometimes we rode in an automobile to Ciudad Acuna, located on the Rio Grande border across from Del Rio.

Headed to Ciudad Acuna in Old Mexico. Johnny Rodriguez is on the far left. Glen Hardwick, 4th from the left. Don Sweat, top right. I took the photo. The next photo was taken once we arrived in Mexico.

Donald Sweat is in the sunglasses, the third from the left. We were just kids. Can you imagine how dangerous this would be today? Johnny and I were taking the photos.

Boy Wonder, we all miss you, my friend. Vaya con Dios —The Colonel

An excerpt from Johnny Rodriguez: The Rest of the Story coming soon.

This photo was taken on the Garner State Park Pavilion by Earl Nottingham with Texas Parks and Wildlife. I was standing behind Earl. It was taken the same day Johnny and I returned to the Bob Davis Ranch after 25 years. Thank you, Earl!

Destiny

Three Winds Blowing

Randy Willis Books & Plays

“Master storyteller Randy Willis—books about adventure, family, and faith.”

Randy Willis draws on his family heritage of explorers, settlers, soldiers, cowboys, and pastors. He upholds the tradition of loving the outdoors. He shares this love in the adventures he creates for readers of his novels. He is the author of two biographies and his new memoir, To the Best of My Recollection.

Randy Willis has written many books, including Destiny, Three Winds Blowing, and Beckoning Candle. He also wrote Twice a Slave, Texas Wind, Louisiana Wind, and The Apostle to the Opelousas. He also wrote The Story of Joseph Willis and To the Best of My Recollection, and many articles.

Four bestselling authors’ books, including Randy Willis’s Twice a Slave, have been chosen as a Jerry B. Jenkins Select Book. Jerry Jenkins is a 21-time New York Times bestselling author. He has written more than 200 books. The Left Behind series, his best-selling work, has sold more than 70 million copies.

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According to the Bible, we all have feet of clay and fall short of God’s glory. Our righteousness is described in the Bible as filthy rags. God’s grace (his undeserved favor) is available to us all. However, we must accept His gift of forgiveness. This gift was bought and paid for on the cross with Jesus Christ’s lifeblood. You can say yes to Jesus’s free gift right now.

Our greatest need is forgiveness. Christ came to forgive us, but we must accept that free gift. Jesus said in Revelation 3:20:

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me. —Revelation 3:20

Jesus knocks, but you must open the door to your heart, to your life, to your future.

It’s not a prescribed list of words. In Luke 23:42, one of the criminals crucified with Jesus pleads, “Lord, remember me when You come into your kingdom. His heartfelt cry of faith from the cross saves him.

Jesus answers in the next verse with a promise. He says, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” The first person to accompany Christ to Heaven was this lowly thief on the cross.

Isn’t it time to decide which “thief” on the cross you are? Are you the one who put his faith in Jesus Christ? Or are you the one who rejected our Savior who gave His lifeblood for us?

The most famous 25 words ever written.

For God so loved the world. He gave His only begotten Son. Whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. —John 3:16

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If these words are how you feel in your heart, then pray:

Heavenly Father,

I pray to You, asking for the forgiveness of my sins.

I confess with my mouth. I believe with my heart that Jesus is Your Son. He died on the cross at Calvary so that I might be forgiven.

Father, I believe that Jesus rose from the dead. I ask Jesus to come into my life as my personal Lord and Savior.

I turn from my sins and will surrender to your will throughout my life.

Your word is truth. I confess with my mouth that I am born again. I am cleansed by the blood of Jesus!

In Jesus’s name, I pray. Amen!

Reach out and touch Him today!

For she said to herself, “If only I may touch His garment, I shall be made well. —Matthew 9:21

“Many today have just enough religion to inoculate them from knowing Christ.” —Randy Willis

Vaya con Dios, my friend.