Phantom sounds in the neighborhood of Westcreek and Oakhill baseball fields.
Many Germans who came to this part of Texas came directly from their homeland – Germany. Most of us arrived around the 1840’s and lost much of what memories we had from back home on the long arduous journey to these foreign lands. One thing that was not able to be lost was the memories of the songs we sang. The Germans have always been a musical bunch. Starting singing clubs —– in every town they landed in or built. No songs were more memorable than the ones families shared during the holidays. We may never see our family who remained in the Motherland again but we knew in our hearts and with our eyes as we gazed at the stars that our kin far away across the sea were looking at the same stars singing the hymns of our Germany. None was such a nostalgic reminder of our never-to see- again home land then the song Silent Night.
The French Revolution and ensuring Napoleonic Wars had been raging on European soil for 25 years. Germany had been warring and divided for most of those years until Napoleon was defeated in June of 1815 and the country fell into a time of uneasy peace. On the first Christmas night after the wars ended a priest in the small town of Maria Pfarr, Austria was called to a small home to bless a baby that had just been born. On the way back to the monastery the peace and quiet of the night was overwhelming. There was no distant sound of war ringing through the valley. He was so moved by the stillness that when he returned home, he wrote a poem. Later he gave it to the church organist and the next Christmas Eve 1818 the collaboration was first played. The song was so well liked that a family of traveling folk singers added it to their song list and it became a German favorite ever after and was sung every holiday season sounding through the hills and valleys with not the sounds of war but song.
Beckett Grove. W.K. Beckett owned a large amount of land in the area where the Oak Hill baseball park and the Westcreek neighborhood is today. It was full of large oaks and therefore was the perfect place for farmers and ranchers headed to Austin to buy and sell their commerce. Their campground was also where everyone would stop and spend the night before going into Austin. Beckett Road is named for him, and the rustling of cattle can be heard by many a little leaguer as well as the faint sound of voices singing.
Researched and written by Jeanine Plumer
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