Chapter 1: An Old West Legacy 061125

     This is a war story with a connection to an Old West Legacy, which had “far reaching” effects. At the same time, its personal. I believe that I would have died as a nineteen year old grunt in 1967 Vietnam had it not been for my connection to the Old West Legacy of the King Ranch. You see, the King Ranch Legacy is a Christian legacy which still thrives today. The physical ranch, itself, was established through the efforts of Captain Richard King. However, the legacy of that physical ranch became much more. It was transformed into a spiritual legacy by Richard's wife, Henrietta Chamberlain King, long after Richard's death. My personal war experiences put me at the center of events which revealed how this godly ranch legacy brought hope and life to my entire combat unit years after Henrietta's death.    

     Now, let me begin by taking the reader on a journey back in Texas history when the King Ranch Legacy was about to be born. The year was 1850. The town was Brownsville, Texas. Seventeen-year-old Henrietta was living on an old worn-out riverboat. It was docked on the banks of the Rio Grande River. She was living with her father, her stepmother, and three younger brothers. On this particular day, the rancid, smelly residue of animal skins and sorghum molasses was being scrubbed with lye soap from the decks of the old steamboat “Whiteville” by family and friends. Still, the smell was barely tolerable enough for its new tenants to carry on their daily activities without gagging. The Chamberlain family had just moved here from Tennessee. Henrietta's father, Hiram, had rented space on this dilapidated riverboat because he had not been able to find suitable quarters in town. The boat not only served as a floating residence for the reverend and his family but also as a church meeting place. Missionary Hiram Chamberlain was starting the very first Protestant church in the lower Rio Grande Valley. The family had moved here from Tennessee, but Hiram was not from Tennessee. He was from Vermont. He and his family were not strangers to frequent moves, although most Americans lived and died within fifty miles of the place of their birth. Hiram was a Presbyterian minister. He was also the son of a Presbyterian minister. Some historians have described his faith in God as a kind of intense religiosity. The truth is this: phrases like that are often used as catchy put-downs to describe believers in Christ who diligently seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit in their everyday lives. Hiram was all missionary at heart and had been a pastor to many people in places throughout Missouri and Tennessee. However, the greatest thing that he would do for me and the men who served with me in my 1/18th Infantry Battalion was to be a great father to his daughter, Henrietta.

     You see, Henrietta had lost her mother at the age of three, and shortly after that traumatic experience, she had also lost her first stepmother. This could have been enough to send this young girl’s soul into a tailspin, except for the following two things. Number one, even in the extremely lonely times after her mother’s death, Henrietta had allowed the Holy Spirit to develop in her a deep and abiding love for Christ. Secondly, she was also the beneficiary of a bedrock love shown to her by her father, Hiram Chamberlain. He never failed to encourage his daughter’s relationship with Christ. Just one example of this was his bold approach to furthering Henrietta's schooling. When she turned fourteen, though they lived in Missouri at the time, he sent Henrietta to a girls’ school in Holy Cross, Mississippi. This was a rare step for a father to take during this period in American history, and it was just one more proof of the strong functional love Hiram had for his daughter. It was these two loving relationships—God and her earthly father, working in tandem—that built an incredibly strong foundation in Henrietta's soul. That foundation allowed her to blossom into a Christ-inspired force, which would later richly bless many downtrodden families living in the Rio Grande Valley.

     It was a sunlit February day in Brownsville. Henrietta busied herself on the decks of the “Ole Whiteville” with routine activities of the day. I am sure Henrietta's willowy shape, exquisitely chiseled facial features, as well as her sparkling brown eyes, would have caught the attention of every young man who had occasion to be on the docks that day. Most, however, would have just looked and marveled. That's where it would have ended. Why? Because this young girl's attractiveness was more than physical, and that “more” part could be quite intimidating. In Henrietta was a bold spiritual magnificence, which at first glance could stop a carnal soul in its tracks, and it just so happened that most, if not all, of the young men on these docks were carnal. As a matter of fact, on this fine February day, one more of that sort of carnal young man was coming around a downstream river bend at this very moment. Unlike those other carnal souls, however, this young man would quickly announce his presence in no uncertain terms.

     The river was not much more than 100 feet across and is still the dividing line between the United States and Mexico today. In my mind, it’s easy to imagine Henrietta stopping her chores and joining others as they gazed at the big steamboat plowing its way up the river toward them. Any newcomers to the area, including the Chamberlain family, loved to watch these big monsters. This one was definitely going to dock. Maybe it would bring some new faces to their world. That would be good. Now that the war with Mexico had ended, there were just not that many newcomers to this area. Long gone were the two American armies which needed to be resupplied by these big riverboat beasts. Yes sir, they were quite the sight for the average person of that era. Most had now stopped what they were doing entirely and were watching intently as the boat pointed its bow toward the dock. The distinctive slap, slap, slap sound of its paddle boards hitting the water got louder and louder. The bow came closer and closer. Suddenly the big wheel stopped, and the bow turned slightly starboard toward the "Whiteville." The wheel then reversed itself. River current caught the bow and pushed it further starboard. The big paddle now reversed itself again, pushing the boat forward. Obviously, its pilot was struggling to keep the boat within the narrow gap between the “Whiteville” on his starboard and the dock on his port side. Men were waiting on the docks to catch the big mooring lines ready to be thrown by men on the boat. The space occupied by the “Whiteville” created a very narrow passage, indeed. It was obvious that the pilot was very skilled to be able to navigate this narrow gap. He was the twenty-five-year-old captain and also owner of the “Colonel Cross,” Richard King.

     Safely docked and the threat of a damaging collision averted, the young Captain Richard King could now vent the boilers. No, I am not meaning the boilers on the “Colonel Cross.” I mean the volatile boilers of his own soul. You see, Richard was a perfectionist through and through. That was the one human trait which defined his character the most. Like every perfectionist, he was convinced that the pursuit of perfectionism would save him and eventually be the vehicle to get him to a place where he could fill the sinkhole inside his soul. It was a sinkhole which had grown greatly after being abandoned by his poverty-stricken parents at the age of nine. Richard had since come to believe that striving to do a thing perfectly was the one thing which would allow him to not only survive but to thrive in what he had found to be a very hostile world. For Richard, the pursuit of perfection was akin to righteousness. It had curried the favor of those who had made his life easier, and it was responsible for taking him from being a stowaway to cabin boy and from being a cabin boy to a riverboat pilot, and finally from a pilot to a riverboat captain and the owner of his very own riverboat, the "Colonel Cross." Like all satanic lies, the belief that success in life can be achieved by working hard at being perfect is partly true, but only partly.

     Now, Richard was about to exhibit in no uncertain terms the outward manifestation of the frustration which comes to a perfectionist when he crosses paths with imperfection. You see, perfectionists expect everyone else to be perfect too. When that doesn't happen, a perfectionist can get very mad, and Richard was now as mad as mad could be. Whoever parked the “Whiteville” in his way was not perfect, or they would have moored the boat in another spot to give more room for other boats to dock. This is what Richard would have done, and this is what Richard was thinking should have been done. In a perfect world of his own making, this other boat would not have been where it was. Now, in a loud voice, he was going to let the entire world know how he felt.

     An angry spirit arose within Richard like an obedient servant. His face flushed, and his big burly hands turned white as he grasped the side rails on the deck beside the wheelhouse. He bent slightly forward, looking directly at the “Whiteville” as if it were a person before he “let fly.” Then, out it came. It was a string of the same cursing comments, spewing forth, which had been used on the waterways of America for years and which I am sure is still being used today. Isn’t it strange how those curse words never change? As his loud barrage blasted verbal shrapnel across the decks of the “Ole Whiteville,” no one on the “Whiteville” dared to answer back or even to look his way. I can imagine some mothering souls grasping their children and leading them into the interior of the "Ole Whiteville" in a desperate attempt to shield them from such language. At this point, however, there was one person on the old steamboat who was not willing to ignore such a public display of vile behavior, and she certainly was not going to run from it. Henrietta's brown eyes flashed as the first vulgar rantings from Richard’s booming voice struck her ears. As others cowered before this disgusting display of filthy bellowing, she immediately acted. In my imagination, I can still see her running from the afterdeck to a spot on the “Whiteville’s” midsection and then stopping directly across from the cussing captain as she initiated her one-woman counterattack. Standing straight, with hands on hips, in my mind's eye, I see her immediately delivering a returning salvo of well-chosen words, while looking across the way directly into the captain’s eyes. Those few piercing words, whatever they were, spoken in grammatically perfect English and delivered in the tone and phrasing of a rebuking angel, instantly penetrated the very core of Richard’s black heart. It was as though he had been struck by the hand of God, and Richard King’s life would never be the same again while in the presence of the woman who now stood before him. Humbled, he stood silent. What could he say? He just gazed into the young woman’s eyes for an instant before turning away. A strange sensation of calmness now came over him, defying all human logic. Like an enraged beast, which had been rebuked by the voice of its master, he simply slinked away from the young woman's view, maneuvering behind some stacked cargo crates to hide from that piercing angelic voice. The shadows on the other side of the wheelhouse concealed him, blending well with the darkness of his soul. This was the first meeting of the beauty and the beast, and it was a meeting which would have enormous consequences for myself and the men of the 1/18th Infantry Battalion. Also, just like in the story of “The Beauty and The Beast,” Richard instantly fell passionately in love with Henrietta.

     He tried to hide his feelings from his good Christian friend, Mifflin Kenedy. However, a little later, after the incident on the docks, those feelings came oozing out while discussing an important business opportunity with Mifflin. As the business conversation took a pause, Richard nonchalantly started pumping Mifflin for more information about the new minister's family in town. At the same time, he tried to disguise his true intentions for asking. Now, Mifflin knew almost everyone in Brownsville, so he would have been the right person to question about the arrival of new people in town, but Richard's ruse did not fool him in the least. The good Christian believer, Mifflin Kenedy, was nobody's fool. He knew almost as soon as Richard opened his mouth, despite Richard's attempts at asking oblique questions, that his young friend had been smitten by the Reverend's daughter. He soon afterward introduced Richard to Henrietta on the streets of Brownsville, but he also did something else which was especially important. He coached this rough-as-a-cob riverboat captain on how to proceed on a course of action to get to know Henrietta better. Richard’s pierced heart had no choice but to heed Mifflin’s suggestions. One of those suggestions meant that Hiram Chamberlain’s church meetings would be occasionally attended by a rough-looking, rough-talking, and awkwardly unchurched young riverboat captain who had one thing on his mind each time he darkened the church doors, and it had nothing to do with improving his relationship with the God of heaven and earth. Somehow, someway, he had to make Henrietta his wife. It took four years, but he did it, and I must admit that I can become a little judgmental of Henrietta's choice of husbands here, especially since the apostle Paul advised Christians to not become unequally yoked. However, as I review the outcome of this marriage and the positive impact it had on people’s lives, including my own, I find it necessary to remind myself that Paul also said that all things work together for good to those who love God and who are called according to his purpose. Henrietta loved God, and I also believe she was called according to God’s purposes. On the other hand, if Christianity were a crime, there simply is not enough historical evidence to convict Richard of that crime.

     I believe that it is important to my story to talk about the unbeliever Richard King's boyhood just a bit more. Like many people, for so many years, circumstances and fear dominated almost every major move Richard made in life, and yet he was one of the roughest, toughest, and successful hombres in this era of Texas history. His emigrant parents, while trying to scratch out a living in New York, apprenticed him to a New York jeweler at the age of nine. The resulting abandonment issues caused by that separation plagued Richard for life. After being thrown off this soul-shattering cliff by his parents that first time, it became much easier for him to jump off the next few cliffs all by himself. He made his first solo jump at the age of eleven and ran from the jeweler. It was a relatively easy jump because he had visited the New York docks enough to familiarize himself with other disgruntled young men who were doing what he was thinking of doing. Most were caught and returned with very little consequence. So, it was. Richard was able to gain the courage to make the jump. He stowed away on the Yankee schooner “Desdemona.” As with others like him, he was discovered, but unlike most of them, he was not returned to the jeweler. It seems his demeanor and his willingness to work hard while aboard impressed the captain of the "Desdemona" so much that this captain arranged for him to go to work for a riverboat captain friend of his on the Gulf Coast. Although Richard could have been returned to the jeweler in short order, maybe for a small reward, fortune smiled on him. The riverboat captain was also impressed by Richard and his honest character, initiative, and intelligence. He was so impressed that he unselfishly arranged for him to go to work for another friend of his, who he thought could better mentor him. Captain Holland was this man’s name, and he was an educated Connecticut man who taught Richard to read and write. Captain Holland treated Richard more like a son than a deckhand. When Richard was in his mid-teens, the captain sent him to live with his two elderly sisters in Connecticut. There, he got some formal schooling. He did well in school. However, after only eight months, Richard was again ready to make another jump. I strongly suspect that the underlying reasons for him abruptly jumping ship this time was the fear of being discovered as a runaway apprentice. Connecticut was close to New York and the jeweler. The newspapers were full of ads offering rewards for runaway apprentices. A misspoken word in the ears of the wrong person could have easily led to his arrest and then a forced return to that jeweler.

     By the time he ran away from the sisters, Richard had already become comfortable working on riverboats. They provided a sheltered and secure environment for a boy like him. Because they were always on the move, Richard was relatively safe from being caught and sent back into what amounted to nothing more than child enslavement. You see, the jeweler had actually been using Richard as a house servant to babysit his young children. He wasn't being taught a trade, as was originally agreed upon with Richard's parents. Life aboard a riverboat, however, restored much of that chance at life, which he had lost. He could learn a trade while always having a hot meal, a place to sleep, and wages—not much, but a little. How many boys his age, with no parents, could find a way to have all this? To a highly intelligent adolescent who had been abandoned in life, riverboats had to feel comfortable, safe, and liberating. It was a no-brainer for a brawny, quick-witted kid like Richard. Shortly after jumping ship on the sisters, he found work as a deckhand on Captain Henry Penny’s boat in Florida during the Seminole Indian Wars. He spent the rest of his teen years working in these Florida waterways. He worked his way up the ladder to become a pilot in his early twenties, which was no small feat. An achievement like that obviously required a person to have a much better-than-average intellect because they would have to remember how to navigate sandbars, currents, and obstructions dotting the long stretches of river. Piloting also required uncanny attention to detail in handling a big riverboat in changing river currents and depths. It was also remarkable that Richard possessed the wherewithal to successfully assimilate into the riverboat culture. That took a lot more than just being able to learn the technical operations of the boat. He emerged at the top of the pecking order, which said a lot about Richard's ability to adapt.

     It was the Quaker, Mifflin Kenedy, who was responsible for Richard moving to Texas. Richard and Mifflin had met when Mifflin was captain of the riverboat “Champion” in Florida and Richard was the boat’s pilot. Later, Mifflin left Richard behind to follow repairs being made to the “Champion” in Pittsburg. There, he was offered a job by the Army Quartermaster as captain of the new riverboat “Corvette.” There was a war with Mexico. The "Corvette" was being built and sent to Texas to help transport military supplies and troops up and down the Rio Grande River. Mifflin quickly accepted the job. Not long after Mifflin arrived in Texas, he wrote to Richard and asked him to join him as his pilot on the "Corvette." Richard accepted the offer, and that’s how he found himself on his way to Texas. When Godly legacies are being assembled from nothing, there is always a believer in Christ working behind the scenes somewhere. Most of the time these believers, like Mifflin, never see the bigger picture.

     However, on that February day in 1850, when Richard looked into Henrietta’s eyes for the first time, he was floundering. He was working harder than ever but slowly sinking under a tidal wave of circumstances. Before the war ended, Richard became Captain of the “Colonel Cross,” but he soon lost that job when the war ended. To survive, he invested some of his savings and bought a flop house, which provided lodging and alcohol for down-and-outers. He did this while waiting on the government to auction off the well-worn surplus riverboats, which were no longer needed by the Army. These were being disposed of by a slow-moving government auction sale, which finally took place in April of 1849. Richard purchased the “Colonel Cross” for $750. It had originally cost the government $14,000. This seemed like just the right break for Richard. He was no doubt the most skilled captain and pilot on the Rio Grande. However, that made little difference. Within his own strength, he was now faced with having to build a business in a dying post-war economy. This time his efforts alone were not going to save him. This time his hard work would not be enough. Richard needed a fresh new blessing from God. In this church age, civilization is advanced through these fresh new blessings, and they are dispensed through believers in Christ. Sure, the ungodly invent, but only the blessings of God can turn that invention into a good thing for humanity, instead of a device to further mankind's destruction. A residue of past blessings may linger, and devilish counterfeits abound everywhere, but God's fresh new blessings, no. The river freight business had shrunk considerably. By the time Richard met Henrietta in February of the next year, he was barely scratching out a living. Financially, he was inching toward the rocks aboard an old worn-out riverboat. To put it bluntly, Richard had now reached the most desolate time of his entire life. Yet, he was about to become a major participant in a legacy too grand for his carnal mind to grasp.

     Many would probably say that the most desperate time in young Richard's life was when he was given away by his parents or when he had run away from the jeweler to become a stowaway on the “Desdemona.” "But oh no!” His most desperate time was just before he laid eyes on Henrietta. Young Richard was drowning. At this moment, he had descended into a deep and most desperate place. As he stood cursing at the “Ole Whiteville” that day, I am sure that he had no idea how close he was to becoming an empty shell. His struggles were fast entangling him tighter and tighter in a web of death. He was fighting the river in a broken-down old riverboat, and the river was winning. If the river had won, not one but many legacies would have been lost. However, God is merciful. He threw Richard a lifeline, and her name was Henrietta.

     There is no mistaking the exact moment when Richard King started winning instead of losing. The winning started the very first day he laid eyes on Henrietta. Before that time, without God, his ability to win was severely limited to his own abilities. Sure, many unbelievers seem to win at life in the short term, but a victorious life cannot be measured in the short span of our lives lived here in this world. The type of winning which I am talking about brings eternal victories wrought in God. Many times, this type of winning looks like losing to the world around us. In Richard's case, it was his wife, Henrietta, who was blessed with the ability to win an eternal legacy, but her husband, Richard, also shared in those victories and blessings which came through Henrietta. A better way for Richard would have been to have won at life through his very own personal relationship with God. However, from that very first moment, as he stood on the "Colonel Cross," cussing away, God’s blessings were able to start flowing. His life started at that very moment to change for the better. Why was that? Well, let me tell you. It was because God was now able to bless Richard for the sake of his impending relationship with Henrietta. Before that moment, God had been severely limited by His righteous discernment of Richard's state of mind. Richard had rejected Him. Without the guidance that comes from a personal relationship with God, the blessings which God desired to heap upon Richard would have been turned into destructive enablement. That enablement would have pushed Richard even further away from that personal and also eternal relationship with Him.

     Now, as Henrietta and the others listened to his rantings, they had no idea that they were listening to the pleading cries of a hopeless man who was trapped in a barren existence. Yet, God knew, and God understood. As Richard “God damned” this and he “God damned” that, the Lord of All was watching. God knew the end from the beginning. He knew the desolation of Richard’s soul. God also saw the agony of being abandoned by his mother and father and the crushed soul which that abandonment had produced. God saw what lay underneath Richard’s festering fears. God also saw the future and knew Richard’s mind. God loved Richard, but sadly God’s hands were tied because Richard refused to turn his life over to Him. God knew that cussing and fist-fighting his way through life would be the only way Richard would choose to vent his frustrations. Throughout his entire life, Richard would never turn to Him. He would always find a way to vent his anger, himself, but at least he would vent it before it turned into bitterness. Believe it or not, God can work in a limited way through someone like that, especially if they are willing to listen to a believer who does have a personal relationship with Him. Over the ages, many unbelievers have taken the advice of believers and have had better outcomes for doing so. God’s desire is to bless His entire creation. However, God is not going to bless the actions of an unbeliever if those actions do nothing but damage His kingdom. God weighs all things in His balance. He will bless those actions which help build His kingdom. Some of Richard’s actions were able to be used by God to do just that through the encouragement of his godly wife, Henrietta. Richard was not a bitter man. All his life, Richard had a natural affection for his wife, "Etta," which Satan was unable to destroy. All his life, Richard loved his family. All his life, Richard possessed a natural love for his friends. All his life, Richard loved the people who tended to his ranch. God was able to use that natural love, which Richard possessed, not in an eternal way but in a natural way to further His kingdom. You see, loving others, even in a natural way, can be useful to God, though it pales in comparison to that love which comes from first loving God.

     Amazingly, God used Mifflin and Henrietta both to rescue the rebellious Richard King. Mifflin approached Richard with a new business opportunity around the same time that he introduced Richard to Henrietta on the streets of Brownsville. Coincidence? I do not think so! The riverboat business faced stiff competition. Even one of the area’s richest merchants, Charles Stillman, who owned several boats, was feeling the pain. Business was so bad that after the war ended, Mifflin had gotten off the river entirely and was trying his hand at land speculation, which didn't go so well. To aggravate the business climate in the area even more, many young Americans who normally would have been bringing their new blood to this American frontier were bypassing Texas altogether and heading straight to the gold fields in California. Then it happened, and it happened in a way that can only happen through God’s divine intervention. Stillman asked Mifflin to join him as a partner in his riverboat business, hoping that by joining forces with the knowledgeable Captain Mifflin Kenedy, he could turn the riverboat part of his business dealings around. Mifflin’s stellar reputation must have preceded him for Stillman to make such an offer. Mifflin agreed to join Stillman on one condition. That condition was that Stillman would also include his good friend Richard King as a partner in the deal. You see, Mifflin’s understanding of the rough-and-tumble business of river boating was remarkable. He realized that he couldn't do it alone. He also realized that his roughneck perfectionist friend was just the kind of person whom they needed to ramrod the day-to-day operations. He needed a hard-driving man whom he could trust, and that man was Richard King. Stillman agreed, so Mifflin approached Richard with the proposition, and Richard accepted under one condition. That condition was huge.

     During the war, Richard had fought this river with riverboats that were designed for rivers back east, not the Rio Grande. They were underpowered and were also prone to running aground in the shallow waters upstream of Brownsville. To keep this from happening, cargo would have to be offloaded and hauled further overland, causing the costs of hauling freight to skyrocket. This knowledge prompted Richard to become emphatic in insisting on two huge conditions before he would become a partner with Stillman. Having attended the river’s school of hard knocks, and being a perfectionist to boot, Richard bluntly spoke up, saying that there would only be one way for him to join this partnership. He let it be known that he was not about to continue doing things the same old way. With that being said, Richard then gave his assessment of what he knew needed to happen. They would need a much sturdier, shallower-draft riverboat that could go further up river into shallow water, and it would need a more powerful steam engine to buck those strong river currents. That would solve half the problem. To solve the other half of the problem, they would need another boat with a much different design to brave the open waters of the Gulf of America. That boat would be used to relay cargo from the sailing ships at the Port of Brazos Santiago (on the Gulf Coast) to a terminal about 15 miles upriver at a place called "White Ranch." Two boats like these would cost a large sum of money. It would be more money than Mifflin or Richard had seen in their entire lives. However, it was exactly the two conditions needed if their partnership were to have any chance for success. Fortunately, they had a partner in Charles Stillman, who was the "Kevin O’Leary” of his day. He agreed to provide the financing to build both riverboats. The order and timing of these events were not just coincidence or good luck. They were the divine intervention of God, and when God intervenes, that intervention always has consequences which reach much further into the future than anything we can imagine. As I have already said, the timing also coincided exactly with Richard meeting the Chamberlain family for the first time. Stillman approved the idea, and the partnership was formed. Mifflin followed the construction at the Pittsburgh Shipyard, while Richard stayed behind to oversee the day-to-day business on the Rio Grande. He also attended the church in Brownsville every chance he got, and he made sure that he got a lot of chances. Oh yes, he probably got involved in one or two fistfights while doing some heavy drinking on the side just to let off steam.

     Richard's youthful soul had strongholds, but it also had areas that were still largely untarnished. The soul cannot generate light. That can only come from a believer's living spirit. However, even the soul of an unbeliever can reflect divine light when exposed to true believers in Christ. Richard's soul was now able to reflect the light generated by Henrietta and the Chamberlain family's living spirits in Christ. This happened because he was around that family a lot. Today, many very remarkable and accomplished souls in this generation are experiencing that same phenomenon in their own lives. This is true because they reside in civilizations sprinkled throughout with the presence of true believers in Christ. However, these remarkable unbelievers are not aware of what is taking place. Most are deceived into thinking that they are totally responsible for their own success. Yet, it is the Spirit of God working through believers that becomes the glue that holds civilizations together. When civilizations are solid, a stable base is established for these remarkable but spiritually unborn people to be successful. This dynamic is what has allowed many to turn their imaginative dreams into reality in the communications revolution which the world is experiencing at this moment in time. Ignorance of this building block of civilized society is leading America and other nations of the world into a very tumultuous time. It seems that it is going to get worse before it gets better. However, it will get better as God's ministers gain the understanding necessary to first develop a personal relationship with God themselves. Next, they must learn how to teach others the benefits of believing in God through His Son, Jesus Christ. Young ministers across our nation are starting to come together in unity of the faith to do just that.

     During this next four-year period, while Richard forced himself to tread extremely uncomfortable waters to win the hand of Henrietta, his fortunes in the South Texas business arena soared to a completely new level. In just a short time, the company monopolized the steamboat business on the Rio Grande River. With this new level of business success, his personal standing in the area was elevated to new heights. It was a level that few men of that era, cut from his mold, would ever experience. The respect he garnered on both sides of the Rio Grande also grew exponentially. Here is the short version of why that happened. You see, every important shaker and mover in the area would have an occasion at some point to come in contact with or at least have heard of the young captain of the shiny new riverboat “Grampus,” and these were not just white Americans but influential Mexicans also. The border was a cauldron of mixed races with passions well suiting a man like Richard King. He was now in his prime. He would never be as fit, as smart, or as good looking. Adversities from childhood until now had been the mold that shaped him into this almost perfect prototype of the man needed to survive the rugged business climate of the Rio Grande Valley. During this period, he kept moving up and down the Rio Grande River, which allowed him to not only meet many different types of people but also to stay in contact with them. He got to know soldiers, Mexican revolutionaries, Mexican and American merchants, politicians, lawyers, and Texas Rangers, just to name a few. He also developed a strong connection to a host of working-class people who hauled his freight, built his warehouses, and worked as deckhands and as laborers. They did everything from loading and unloading his riverboats to keeping the woodpiles stacked high with the mesquite wood to fire the boilers of the “Grampus” and the “Comanche.” Most everyone who took the time to get to know him found it easy to connect with him. Many were drawn to Richard's raw honesty and hardworking attitude, as well as his hard-drinking and occasional bare-knuckles displays of those pent-up emotions within his soul. He no doubt attracted a broad spectrum of acquaintances from down-and-outers to up-and-coming leaders in the area. Almost all could easily come to respect and even admire a man like Richard King.

     Mifflin got married before Richard. He fell in love and married a 26-year-old Mexican beauty and widow with five children from Mier, Mexico, on April 16th, 1852. Mifflin was a believer, but the passions often expressed by the phrase “falling in love” affect believers and non-believers alike, and that’s all I have to say about that.

     In May of that same year, there was a state fair in Corpus Christi, which was around 165 miles north of Brownsville. Richard had been invited by its promoter, Henry Kinney, to attend, so he went. Getting there presented him with several problems, however, which he had never faced before. You see, State Highway 77 had not been built quite yet. There were some wagon trails, but Richard had done little exploring beyond the riverbanks of the Rio Grande. One reason for that was because he had been too busy keeping the “Colonel Cross” afloat until now. However, the booming riverboat business with Stillman was now providing him with more hands-off free time to enjoy life. Another reason for Richard not exploring the region north of Brownsville was because it was a very dangerous place. The countryside itself was beautiful to look at. Grasslands stretched for miles toward the Gulf coast, and clumps of mesquite trees dotted the flat landscape, but the place was devoid of settlers because it was as wild as anywhere in the entire American Frontier. It was known generally as the “Wild Horse Desert,” but it wasn't what one may picture a desert being. It had springs that fed crystal-clear running streams. There were vast grasslands near the coast. Wild game abounded as well as thousands of wild horses. It also had and still does have some of the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets in the entire world. The sound of cooing doves and yelping coyotes could be heard in the evenings, and whippoorwills too. In 1852, although a person with a frontiersman’s skill set would have had little problem traveling across this landscape, it would have been a very foolish undertaking for a tenderfoot from back east, like Richard King. The men who had the best skill sets for traveling this land and staying alive were undoubtedly the Texas Rangers. Maybe that's one reason why Richard did what he did next. For all his bravado, Richard was not one to take needless chances with his own personal well-being. So, he buddied up with a Texas Ranger Captain named Gideon Lewis. Lewis made the trip to the state fair with him. More than likely, Richard had met Gideon sometime earlier, possibly hauling supplies upstream to the ranger outpost at Lake Tampaquas.

     Despite their vastly different skill sets, these two traveling companions had one thing in common. The pride of life was sinking its talons into both, as it does with all upwardly mobile young people who have no interest in building a relationship with God. At this point, it was gaining a much more deadly grasp on Gideon than Richard. Here is the reason for that. Richard’s source of pride and self-respect was being built up by the trappings of a successful steamboat business, which provided a service to others. He was also being exposed to the influence of a very Godly family in his long courtship of Henrietta Chamberlain. Since his steamboat business served the needs of others, that mitigated the destructive effects caused by the pride of life. Gideon’s pride of life, on the other hand, was being fed by much more destructive forces. He was a recognized war hero, and killing others always plows up the soul of a soldier, no matter how justified the cause. War heroes are extremely susceptible to the pride of life, although they may be sleeping in a gutter. Gideon also garnered automatic respect and power over others through the authority he carried as a captain in the Texas Rangers. He was drawn to politics as well. Without God's anointing, politics can be as destructive as war to the human soul. Gideon's most deadly fault, however, which is a symptom of the pride of life gone wild, was his inability to control his passions. Those passions created in him an incessant desire for other men’s wives. This would eventually get him killed by a jealous husband. Nevertheless, at this stage, while traveling together to the fair, both men were in their prime, headstrong and about the same age. That commonality made them particularly good traveling companions and also gave them a chance to bond. Since Gideon had been a courier during the Mexican War and a ranger after the war, he no doubt had extensive knowledge on how to not only survive, but also how to have a pleasant time, escaping the everyday grind, while traveling through the "Wild Horse Desert," on the way to the state fair.

     I mention this trip to the state fair for a very important reason. It was during this trip that Richard was able to see the land that he would soon purchase. That purchase would become the nucleus of the world-famous King Ranch. It was located on one of the best pieces of ground along the 165-mile stretch between Brownsville and Corpus Christi, on a creek known as the Santa Gertrudis. It was a Spanish Grant to the Mendiola family of 15,500 acres, which Richard purchased for $300. He received a warranty deed for it in July of 1853. This wasn’t a lot of money, but he still brought Gideon into the deal as a half-partner. He obviously did that for reasons other than needing help with financing to buy the land. He partnered with Gideon because Gideon not only had experience buying and selling land in the area but also possessed other useful skills and connections. For one, he was associated with the type of men who had the right skills to work the proposed cow camp and stay alive at the same time. You see, the "Wild Horse Desert" was uninhabited, and for good reason. Comanches and banditos roamed freely there. When they ran across others in their path, they simply took whatever they felt like taking and then killed the person to boot. It was a livelihood for these wretched creatures, but they got what was coming to them in the end, and the Texas Rangers dispensed most of that frontier justice. Did others get hurt in the process? Of course, they did, but the world is not a perfect place, my dear. Raiding parties like these had existed throughout the ages. They were not noble warriors, just trying to protect their rights. They were predators, plain and simple, with no regard for other human beings. Ah yes, and some of these predators were gangs of cut-throat "cowboys" from other parts of Texas. A handful of Texas Rangers were the only law. The Wild Horse Desert was a very dangerous place.

     However, violence does not stop God's ordained legacies. In the case of Henrietta's legacy, we must open our eyes to a bigger picture. That picture reveals God’s domino trail of blessings leading all the way to the 1/18th Infantry Battalion in 1967, and beyond. The first dominoes did not fall until immediately after Richard saw Henrietta for the first time at those docks. Shortly afterward, he was brought into the new riverboat business by his friend, Mifflin Kenedy. The fair in Corpus not only gave Richard the opportunity to find land for a ranch but also connected him with a knowledgeable partner, Gideon Lewis, who had tremendous knowledge and connections for running a cow camp. Thus, the ranch was born. The riverboat business generated the capital to do all that. Without the state fair in Corpus in 1852, there may have been no motivation to buy the land in the first place. Gideon's expertise aided in not only providing security for the cow camp but also the knowledge to legally secure their land purchases. Legal acquisitions during this period were not easy. To legally secure ranch land, signatures of the landowners had to be obtained. Therein lay another problem. Many of these Mexican landowners had moved to Mexico after the war. Here was another problem. Ownership of these land grants had by now been passed down and divided amongst several generations of heirs. The legal entanglements required a lot of time, patience, and forethought to unravel. Gideon possessed some of the skills and connections needed to make all this happen. Once the hard part of acquiring legal ownership was done, next came the impossible part. I say impossible because the dominos to bridge this gap had not yet been created. You see, the agrarian model which worked so well for large plantations back east would never work here on the "Wild Horse Desert" for two major reasons. Number one was the frequent droughts. There were vast grasslands, but they were not good for farming because of the inconsistent supply of water. There were many seasonal creeks and small spring-fed creeks, but not enough year-round fresh water was available. The second reason was that there was no available workforce to raise cattle or for farm labor. Back east, this was provided by the institution of slavery.

     A century before, Mexican citizens had actually started ranching in the "Wild Horse Desert." Those grand ranchos had large herds of tough Spanish cattle which roamed free as well as thousands of wild horses. Landowners employed hundreds of vaqueros to manage their livestock. However, when Texas won its freedom from Mexico in 1836, the last of those ranchos disappeared. Why? Because those gangs of “cowboys” from north of the Nueces River regularly raided the lawless "Wild Horse Desert." Although Texas recognized landowner rights and the Spanish Land Grants, issued by Mexico before the war, the people who owned these ranchos had no protection from lawmen willing or able to enforce those laws. These cattle rustlers regularly raided at will and drove cattle north for profit, killing anyone who stood in their way. The ranchos were soon deserted, and the area became very unsafe for anyone, Mexican or white, who tried to settle in this region. By the time Richard started buying land, the cattle which once roamed the “Wild Horse Desert” were gone, and so were the ranchos, and so were the settlers. When Richard traveled through this area in 1852, it was very beautiful, but it was also devoid of all permanent settlements.

     Amazingly, during his courtship of Henrietta, Richard had begun to work through those many impossible hurdles of ranch ownership. He was the first to establish a permanent cow camp on Santa Gertrudis Creek. For reasons I have just mentioned, it was a miracle that Richard was able to put down permanent roots there. Richard's greatest miracle, however, was winning the hand of Henrietta Chamberlain in marriage. He could not have accomplished this feat if he had not won the blessing of her father. Henrietta was remarkably close to her family, and especially to her dad. To win Hiram over, it’s a safe bet that Richard was forced to become a regular visitor at Hiram Chamberlain’s church in Brownsville. As I have said, it took four years, but his persistent efforts eventually paid off.

     Here are some very important reasons why Hiram finally gave his blessing to Richard. Richard, like so many people I meet today, was a good reflection of God’s light when he was exposed to that light. Exposure to the Chamberlain family, over that four years, caused Richard to change for the better. As he was able to reflect more and more of that light generated by the Chamberlains, it allowed him to walk in more and more of the earthly blessings that God intended for him in the first place. These blessings made him an ever more appealing suitor for the hand of Henrietta. You see, Hiram, like most Christians, still looked at the outward appearance and attitudes of others. I am sure that Hiram was impressed by the financial growth of Richard's business dealings. Seeing the blessings coming from that did nothing but help Hiram draw closer to Richard. Then came the excitement over the success of his cow camp on the Santa Gertrudis. I am sure this was talked about many times over Richard's shared family dinners with the Chamberlain family. The Man of God, Hiram Chamberlain, could not help but be impressed by Richard's earthly progress. Yet there was something else which impressed this man of God even more. He was also impressed by the genuine love Richard possessed for his daughter. The sum of it all was very compelling, and it persuaded Hiram Chamberlain to accept Richard as a very suitable husband for Henrietta.

     Richard was a good reflector of light, but a reflection needs a source. That source came not only from Henrietta but also from missionary Hiram Chamberlain and his church. No matter what Richard’s motive was for being in church and no matter whether Richard was a believer or not, his mental state was changed for the better during those four years as he sat in church listening to the word of God. Now, the word of God is powerful, and it has a supernatural effect on whoever hears it, especially if they listen to it regularly and especially if the reading of it is reinforced by the actions of God’s people modeling this word before that unbeliever. When I read the historical account of events in Richard’s life during this four-year period, while he was listening regularly to the word of God, I am amazed at the number of good outcomes which not only happened to him but for others around him as well. Richard's forward thinking during this time was amazing and far removed from his previous line of sight. Here is an example. I believe it is one of the greatest displays of God’s reflective light, working through Richard, in his entire life. At the beginning of 1854, just before he and Henrietta were married, Richard went to a small village in northern Mexico to buy cattle. After buying every cow in that village, its inhabitants were left with extraordinarily little means to feed their families. Two years of severe drought made things even worse. Starvation for the village was just around the corner, when, not batting an eye, Richard offered jobs to everyone who was willing to follow the herd back to the Santa Gertrudis Creek cow camp. Almost the entire village of over a hundred people took him up on his offer. These men, women, and children would become the nucleus and life’s blood of the King Ranch. They were to become known as King's People (Los Kinenos). Many years later, President Ronald Reagan's Secretary of Education, Lauro Cavazos, would author a book, "A Kineno Remembers," detailing how important growing up on the ranch had been for him and his future success in life. His childhood had been greatly influenced by the descendants of those people who had walked to the ranch from Mexico with Richard.

     Richard married Henrietta at the church in Brownsville on December 10, 1854. They spent the first several months honeymooning at the cow camp on San Gertrudis Creek. Etta would later say that this was one of the most wonderful times of her entire life. I believe that statement to be tremendous evidence of the internal emotional courage which the Holy Spirit of God had forged in this young woman's soul, because the "White Horse Desert" at that time was still one of the most dangerous places on earth.

     The next thirty years would provide ample proof for the principle which I have briefly touched on here. It's a principle which can be described this way: Henrietta's born-again spirit was the generator of light, and Richard reflected that light. However, as it always happens with all who only reflect the light of God, Richard's ability to reflect God’s light became tarnished with time by the circumstances of this world. At the same time, the light generated from within the born-again spirit of Henrietta grew ever brighter. This is not to say that Richard became a bad person. As a matter of fact, I believe Richard remained as good a person as anyone who has ever lived a life without Christ. I would have loved to have met him. However, although I will meet Henrietta in a few years, I am afraid that I will never meet Richard. Again, I hope I am wrong.

     There was a great civil war during the first half of the 1860s which presented a huge financial opportunity for the King family because it allowed Richard to use his extensive network of business associates in South Texas as well as Mexico to provide a vital service to the Confederacy. He was able to export Confederate cotton overland, through Mexico, and on to foreign countries, thus skirting Union blockades of Confederate ports on the mainland. However, as with all unbelievers, his choices in life seemed to become more complicated and more confused, causing more and more anguish to his soul. He barely escaped a Union raiding party at the ranch one night. The Union officer leading the raiding party shot dead, in the darkness, one of his dearest and most trusted ranch hands, Francisco Alvarado, thinking that he was Richard. After the war, Richard became one of the first ranchers to start driving cattle north to railheads, where they could be sold for better prices to Eastern beef buyers. However, the hardships plaguing his ranching business continued to mount over the years and his health declined. There were many bandito raids and rustlers from south of the border. There were droughts and diseased cattle. Each year open range was replaced by more and more barbed wire fencing, making it harder and harder to drive his cattle to railheads up north for transport to markets back east. The bandito raids never stopped during his lifetime. Yet, through all the strife, and all the changes which the ranch went through, Henrietta was Richard’s most constant stabilizing force. Though they had a nice house in Kingsville, Henrietta made the ranch her home. She was present at the ranch during at least 26 bandito raids, and she was also present when the Union raiding party showed up that fateful night while Richard, forced by circumstances, ran for his life. He was forced to leave her and his entire family behind to fend for themselves. Later, well into the turn of the 20th century, many an old vaquero would recall “La Madama,” as they called Henrietta, bringing food and other supplies to their armed outposts, as they manned them to defend against bandito raids on the ranch.

     By the beginning of the 1880s, the relentless wearing down by the world of Richard's soul had taken its toll. Richard was a well-worn and tarnished shadow of that vibrant young man who entered into the Chamberlain’s lives at twenty-five. All his life, he drew strength from the spiritual warmth of his wife, but I do not believe that he ever understood the why of it. In her company, perhaps he found the only place of peace he would ever know. The cattle drives, which were a main source of income for the ranch, became increasingly harder to make happen. Disease and drought continued to shrink ranch profits. Although he had constantly added to his land holdings over the years, he had also steadily added debt after the war had ended. He drank heavily. On April 8, 1883, shortly after losing his youngest son, Robert Lee, to pneumonia, this magnificent strong man’s soul was nearing the end of its strength. History records that Richard King wrote the following words in a letter to his beloved wife Etta: “I am tired of this business, as I at all times have made a mess of everything I have undertaken, and now I want to quit the Rancho business and will so do.” Shortly after writing this letter, Richard found a British Syndicate to buy the ranch. Fortunately, for many who would come later, the sale fell through. Though no one can be sure, I am personally convinced that if these buyers had bought the ranch, the futures of many souls connected to the King Ranch would have been much more bleak. The story of the 1/18th Infantry Battalion in Vietnam would have also ended much differently. Two years later, after the failed sale of the ranch, in 1885, a much too young Richard King died of stomach cancer at the age of 61. He died in a room at the Menger Hotel in San Antonio, with all his family at his bedside. Just a few days before his death, he was able to write out his will. He left everything to his beloved wife, Etta Chamberlain King. What a magnificent and successful man he was in so many ways. Yet, he was such a pitiful loser in the eternal scheme of things. Again, I pray that my last statement is wrong.

     As I have said, while Richard was still alive, debt on the ranch had continually mounted. It equaled almost as much as the appraised value of the land itself. If Richard had sold before he died, or had the ranch been sold by Henrietta at the time of Richard's death, then life would have become much different for the many families who worked the land and their children after them. No doubt, it would not have remained to become the stabilizing force in the Rio Grande Valley that it later became.

     God knows all. A young lawyer, Robert Justus Kleberg, had been put on retainer by Richard King several years before Richard's death, and he soon made King Ranch business his full-time occupation. He also fell in love with Henrietta’s youngest daughter, Alice. Appointing the young Kleberg to manage ranch business was to be one of the most fortuitous choices Richard could have made, other than the passing of the baton on to his wife, Henrietta, as sole heir of the ranch. At this time in history, this was not the normal way to do business. Normally, trustees would have been chosen to run things after Richard's death, and they were in this case too, but those trustees quickly acquiesced to Henrietta's very capable abilities to run things on her own.

     God did not will Richard to die early, but his death was also no surprise to God. He died an early death partly because of his heavy drinking, but also because of the enormous stress that came from believing he had to strive to maintain control of every aspect of his life while turning his back on the strength to be gained by a personal relationship with his creator. Today, in America, we will see more and more of this type of thing happening as those incredibly talented people currently responsible for igniting the communications revolution face growing older with only the strength inside themselves to rely on. It is the same old story being played out again and again through the lives of so many remarkable human beings who have had the opportunity to grow up in a country that allowed them the freedom to create what they have created. Richard's early death robbed him of the opportunity of being at his youngest daughter's wedding. Today, many are in the process of being robbed of the opportunity to have a daughter in the first place. How sad because that is one of the most important ingredients of a personal legacy. Many times, we can be robbed of that opportunity in the name of a very self-centered and nebulous pursuit, which many simply label "success."

     Proverbs 22:1 says that we should value a good name more than great riches. Immediately after Richard's death in 1885, Richard King’s lien holders were more than happy to accept Henrietta’s written good name on the debt owed them by her husband. This spoke volumes about the name respect she had among Richard's business associates. Also, the Kleberg marriage was a match made in heaven. That marriage not only blessed Robert and Alice Kleberg but also the ranch's many families as well. In the coming years, the Klebergs became very good facilitators of ranch business under the watchful eye of its owner, the Godly Henrietta King. The management values taken from the pages of God's word and established behind the scenes by Henrietta would stabilize ranch life throughout some extremely hard times in the first half of the twentieth century. In less than 10 years after Richard's death, the entire debt on the ranch was paid off. Corridors of ranch land were deeded over to railroads so they could extend railheads into the area. This made the hard business of driving cattle to railheads up north a thing of the past. Water wells were drilled, which tapped into vast underground artesian rivers flowing beneath the ranch. Kingsville itself was built on land that had already been donated by the King Ranch. As important, schools and churches were not only built on land donated by Henrietta, but she also donated the lumber to build them. The vaqueros who worked on the ranch worked hard, but so did Henrietta and so did the Kleberg family. Many times, the owners were to be found in the dirt working side by side with their vaqueros. Each soul living on the ranch had a respected and important part to play, and each soul was given as much responsibility as they were able or willing to handle without prejudice. Where much is given, much is required. Robert Kleberg Sr. not only worked alongside the ranch's Kinenos but, as a skilled attorney, he also handled the ranch politics and business connections outside the ranch, which only he could handle. During this period of Texas history, there were deep cultural divides between Hispanics and Whites and Women and Men. Women would not win the right to vote until 1920. Still, Henrietta held the reins of power over every aspect of ranch life. She was guided in that endeavor by her heart, which had long since been dedicated to God as a servant in Christ. She could have sold the ranch, especially after paying off the debt, and lived very comfortably as a wealthy woman for the rest of her long life, but she didn’t, and I thank God that she did not.

     In his book, A Kineno Remembers, former Secretary of Education Lauro Cavazos Jr. detailed how important his father, as well as King Ranch culture, had been in contributing to his success in life. His father, a third generation Kineno, was hired by Henrietta herself when he was 18 years old and was no doubt mentored by her until the time of her death in 1925. Before that, Lauro Sr. was raised by a strict Catholic-turned-Presbyterian mother who was the driving force for the moral upbringing of all her children and grandchildren. Much of Lauro Sr.'s upright and driving personality was shaped by this force-of-nature mother. Later, when he turned eighteen, and started working on the ranch, no doubt he came under the influence of another strong and Godly woman in the person of Henrietta King. No doubt, the physically protective atmosphere provided by the ranch played an important part in the continuing development of young Lauro Sr. Unlike other young Hispanics of his time, Lauro was not beaten down by the normal circumstances other Hispanics were forced to face day after day. The ranch provided food, shelter, and a sense of self-worth through the work it provided. Ranch life no doubt sheltered him from the effects of debilitating fear, which gripped so many other starving Hispanic youngsters growing up in the first half of the twentieth century in the Rio Grande Valley. In 1915, Lauro Sr. repelled one of the largest bandito raids in ranch history, making quite a name for himself with the locals as well as with his ranch family. Soon after that raid, he volunteered to serve in the military during World War I. He was promoted to sergeant and became a decorated war hero.

     Though Lauro fought bandits on the ranch and Germans in France, there was another side to him. That side was just as fearless. After returning from the war, he let Robert Kleberg see that other side. Robert ran the day-to-day operations on the ranch, so Lauro went to him and let him know that he was not going to settle for being just another ranch hand all his life. It took guts for a young Mexican of his generation to confront Robert in this manner. In a very forthright way, he calmly announced to Bob Kleberg that he would be moving on further west for greener pastures if Bob could not find a way to give him more responsibility. Now, Bob was no fool. He knew Lauro well enough to know that he meant what he said and said what he meant. Lauro had worked the ranch for years. When he was given a task, Bob could turn his back and walk away, knowing that it would be done. The hardworking and smart Lauro Cavazos was a gift from God, and Bob knew it. He was not about to let that gift slip through his fingers. Bob immediately started training Lauro for a foreman position. It took several years. However, in 1926, a year after Henrietta's death, he promoted Lauro to foreman of the Santa Gertrudis Division of the King Ranch. Lauro held that position until his death in 1957. Working side by side with Bob Kleberg Jr., he was instrumental in developing the first and only American breed of cattle known as the Santa Gertrudis Breed. He was one of the best horsemen in the country and also helped the ranch breed some of the best quarter horse stock ever produced anywhere. He was also elected and served as a justice of the peace in his local community.

     The foundation, however, which gave Lauro Sr. the opportunity to become a much better version of himself, was laid through the enlightened spirit of others. It was Henrietta Chamberlain King and, before her, Lauro's own mother, who provided that foundation. Yes, Lauro Sr. was an excellent reflector of their light, but the light itself was generated by them and not him. Like Richard King, Lauro was a very soulish person, and soulish people are able to take advantage of the light to do good works, but they can never become the light. It is always God's enlightened vessels shining on soulish people that allow them to become what they otherwise would never be able to become. Interestingly, the world often ignores those enlightened vessels, like Henrietta King, but touts those soulish people who come after. During a terribly prejudiced and economically challenging time, Lauro was motivated to make sure each one of his children spoke English. He used his good standing in the community to battle school board authorities to get his children enrolled as the first Hispanics in an all-white school in Kingsville. He also made sure that each of his children went to college. In the pages of his book, Lauro's son, Secretary of Education Lauro Cavazos Jr., makes it very clear how important his father's guidance was. Americans today would do well to have had an earthly father of Lauro Cavazos's caliber, yet by all accounts, Lauro Sr. was not a generator of the divine light of God. He was only a reflection of that light. The light originated and came from the born-again spirit of Henrietta and his own mother. As with Richard, I hope I am wrong about Lauro. Lauro Sr. was hired by Henrietta, and he answered to her alone until her death in 1925.

     Yet, what does this recanting of Texas history concerning Richard King, Henrietta King, and their ties with the Cavazos family have to do with anything? What possible noteworthy influence could these people have had years later on an infantry battalion in 1967 Vietnam? Even if they did, many might say, "Who cares?" We lost that war, and since we lost, why shouldn't we just move on? Who needs another story about Vietnam made more convoluted by this little history of the King Ranch? Actually, that is exactly the way I thought for a long time. Who needs another story about the Vietnam War? Well, read on, pilgrim, read on!

     When a man showed up to take command of my downtrodden Infantry Battalion, on the surface that man did not seem like the kind of man who could change anything. He was cool, calculating, and abrupt. He cussed, and he was downright earthy. He wouldn't hesitate to gulp down a shot of whisky and maybe have a second gulp to chase the first. He displayed a temper, albeit without the underlying angry spirit to go with it. Yet, he was the right man in the right spot at the right time. You see, Lauro Cavazos Sr. had a second son, who also grew up on the ranch. His life, too, was shaped by that same ranch culture. Like the ranch's founder, he also was named Richard, and it was Lauro Jr.'s little brother, 38-year-old Lt. Col. Richard E. Cavazos, who took command of my 1/18th Infantry Battalion in March of 1967.

     In December of 1966, when I joined the First Infantry Division north of Saigon, at a place called Di An, a dark cloud of hopeless despair was hanging over the entire division. My 1/18th Infantry Battalion was one of nine battalions in that division. Several months later, after Richard Cavazos took over command, however, that dark cloud hanging over other battalions started to dissipate from our battalion. Many of us were amazed at how quickly things changed for the better. However, it’s safe to say that no one knew the root cause of that change. Time and time again, we would witness the chaotic cloud of dumb debacles taking place elsewhere becoming a thing of the past in our unit. I knew nothing about legacies, and I certainly knew nothing about the legacy left behind by Henrietta Chamberlain King. However, everyone was able to see the embodiment of that legacy because he was now standing in our midst.