Phantom sounds in the neighborhood of West creek 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 Smithsonian Magazine:
The continent was reeling in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars. Financial scarcity and insecurity abounded, further stoked by fires, floods and famine. But the conflict was, at least, finally over. In 1816, Josef Mohr, a Catholic priest from Oberndorf bei Salzburg, which had just come under Austrian rule, wrote a poem called “Stille Nacht” to commemorate the coming of peace. Then, he put the poem aside for two years.
He returned to the poem in the winter of 1818, according to CNN’s John Malathronas, when the river Salzbach flooded into Mohr’s parish church of Saint Nicholas. So the congregation could have music on Christmas Eve, Mohr asked school teacher and church organist Franz Xaver Gruber from the neighboring village of Arndorf to set his poem to music to be sung by two voices and a guitar. Gruber wrote the arrangement in an afternoon.
Because guitar was not an instrument approved by the Church, the duo waited until the conclusion of Christmas Eve mass before debuting the song. Mohr sang tenor and strummed the guitar while Gruber sang bass, with the congregation coming in on the chorus.
The song might have remained a one-night wonder, but when the organ repairman Karl Mauracher arrived, he heard the song and took the sheet music home with him to Tyrol, an area known for its choirs. The choirs began singing the tune, and eventually it was translated and spread around Europe. In 1839, it came to the United States when the Rainer Family Singers toured the New World.
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 Mariapfarr, 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 camp ground 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.
Joe Tanner Road Southwest Austin
From the living history play the Original Austin Ghost Tours wrote about old Joe Tanner who was one of the original Oak Hill residents.
Howdy. I’m Joe Tanner. As you may, or may not know, I was a blacksmith. My shop was right there on Williamson Creek where the Oak Hill Baseball Fields are and next to where they named a street after me. I’m a third-generation blacksmith. My Grandfather, the first one of my family to come to Texas was mostly a gunsmith. One of the best in the country north and south. During the War Between the States when all of Texas was barricaded land and sea no weapons or ammunition could come in state. So Texan’s had to make weaponry for their soldiers on their own. When the Texas government wanted to pay to have weapons made three gun and blacksmiths made bids to get the contract. But only one made good on bringing the product. Manufacturing the needed arms for the soldiers.
My extended family has a long and important place in Texas history. I and my parents are buried in unmarked graves in Oak Hill Cemetery along the road that takes folks to The Natural Gardener, sure busy place.
The lady who was thinking about an Arbor Trails Ghost Walk o remember all of us that pioneered these parts of Texas was just a thinkin and thinkin. Just a hem hawing around about it. Three years past and she was STILL just a thinkin. So we ghosts decided to jump start the plan last Halloween when we watched her going downtown to read the old newspapers about that horrible hurricane that blew away sisters Joanna and Ada Bargsley, old Mrs. Towsend and her son, old widowed Mrs. Bargsley, 70 year-old Marla Kincheon and little Hailey in the blink of an eye.
And to get things moving the next morning Ada made an appearance on Convict Hill Road. A human girl driving to work at 5:45 in the morning saw a lady wearing a white dress, with long black hair and bare feet walking in the middle of the road. Two cars driving towards each other swerved off the road so they wouldn’t hit her. But then there was no one there cause Ada’s a ghost! Realizing it was one of us ghosts scart that one girl nearly to death! The girl went on to the NextDoor website and asked if anyone had heard of a ghost on the Convict Hill Road?
And by golly someone responded YES! 20 years ago she was driving from Congress Ave on the Davis Lane road right close to where it crosses the Brodie Lane, in fact close to where the Bardsley house once stood before it blew away, she saw a lady in a white dress with long black hair and bare feet. It was 3:00 AM in the morning, she was driving home from work, which she did every night but never saw no one. Back then when she was driving the backroads there were no houses. Nothing was built out here. She was concerned for the woman so she slowed down and rolled down her window ( for those of you who may not know, there was a time when car windows had to be rolled down by hand) and asked if she was alright? Then she had a very strange feeling, something was not right. The lady never acknowledged her and the driver could not see a face, just hair. Then she was scaret!! Drove away as fast as she could. Looked behind in the rear-view mirror but no one was there.
This got the people on Nextdoor talking! And here we are.
My blacksmith shop was right where the Oak Hill baseball fields are today. In my day there was one thing every boy played, and everybody enjoyed playing was baseball. Every boy and some girls had a baseball glove. Whether it was a pick-up game in the front yard or a fancied up game like on the Oak Hill fields, everybody loved watching including me. I’m right tickled that that’s what became of my old place.
But like Ada Bargsley I have a mischievous side to me. You know I’m there a watching with you see a hawk around. My hawk friends still visit. Or if you get a whiff of fresh flowers or fresh tomatoes in the air. Or something might go a missing at the ball field. Just say “old Joe Tanner put it back!” And I just may…
Joe Tanner’s father’s sister:
This poem is on her tombstone.
Shed not for her the bitter tear;
Nor give the heart to vain regret;
Tis but the casket that lies here;
The gem that filled it sparkels yet.
37 yrs. 1 mo. 21 days.
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Copyright Jeanine Plumer
Researched and written by Jeanine Plumer
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