115: HEY, HEY, LBJ – I TOURED YOUR RANCH TODAY

When the alarm went off at 6:00am on Saturday July 20, 2019, my photographer hustled to get ready for the day. His first goal of the morning was to walk back to the Alamo to capture images of me in front of the historic mission without others in the photo; which ended up as a total success. Before we returned to our room, Tom also photographed the statue of Theodore Roosevelt that was located in front of the Menger Hotel. Roosevelt was one of twelve Presidents to spend time at the hotel and he had recruited members of his ‘Rough Riders’ in the hotel’s bar. During the Spanish-American War, Teddy Roosevelt trained with his ‘Rough Riders’ in San Antonio.

My photographer and his wife had the Highlander packed just after 8:00am and we headed out of San Antonio towards our first destination of the day – The LBJ Ranch near Stonewall, Texas. The 75-mile drive seemed to go quickly, at least from my cozy spot in the camera case on the back seat. After my companions obtained a map of the entire Lyndon B. Johnson National Historic Park from the Visitor Center, we made our way across the Pedernales River where we found the Junction School.

The Junction School was a one-room schoolhouse built in 1910. During the 1912-13 school year, a young four-year old boy, who lived down the road from the school, began his education there with his first teacher – Miss Katie Deadrich. Future 36th President Lyndon Baines Johnson only attended the Junction School for a few months before a whooping cough epidemic closed the area school systems for the remainder of the year. LBJ’s family moved to Johnson City before the following school year began. Tom carried me to various areas around the building before we ventured inside to the see the replica furnishings in the school. Before we left, my photographer placed me on the school’s window sill that was directly behind a wooden table and bench that represented the place where President Johnson sat with former teacher Katie Deadrich on April 11, 1965 when he signed the Federal Aid to Education Bill into law. As I stood in front of the window, it was as though I could see the President seated at the table alongside his childhood teacher.

My photographer and I had spent about 15 minutes as we explored in and around the Junction School. The next stop, at least for me, was one I had anticipated since we left Michigan – the grave of Lyndon B. Johnson. In my travels since 2013, I had visited every Presidential gravesite except two. As we headed southwest for about a half mile along the Pedernales River, I was about to cross one of them off my list. The Johnson Family Cemetery was located almost across the road from the President’s birthplace, and it was a place that he loved to visit when he was home. LBJ once stated: “I come down here almost every evening when I’m at home. It’s always quiet and peaceful here under the shade of these beautiful oak trees.”

When Vicki pulled our vehicle into the nearby parking lot, Tom carried me to the locked gate at the cemetery’s entrance. There was a three-foot-tall stone wall that surrounded most of the burial ground; but since it wasn’t very high, I thought it could be easily scaled by my “not so graceful” photographer. President Johnson’s red granite tombstone was located roughly 100 feet from the wall and it was in a straight line with ten other granite markers; including Lady Bird’s that was next to his. Due to the location of LBJ’s tombstone, it made it difficult for Tom to get good images of me posing with it; but he did the best he could without entering the graveyard. After giving it some thought, my photographer knew he had to get me closer; but Tom decided to wait until after we saw the rest of the sites on the LBJ Ranch before he attempted to scale the wall. My camera guy figured if we were apprehended and kicked out of the historic site for trespassing, he would’ve already captured all of the photos of me on the ranch that we needed.

When Tom finished taking his pictures at the Johnson Family Cemetery, I knew in my resin-filled heart that we’d be back; and quite frankly, I looked forward to standing on LBJ’s tombstone. My photographer placed me back on the Highlander’s back seat and Vicki proceeded to drive the three of us roughly a half mile southwest from the cemetery to Lyndon Johnson’s pride and joy: the Texas White House that was the crown jewel of the LBJ Ranch. Shortly after our arrival to the Johnson homestead, our tour of the grounds that surrounded the Texas White House began. In past years, the interior of the home was open to the public. However, in August 2018, structural safety concerns were discovered and those concerns forced the NPS to close the building to the public. Our tour guide, who was NPS Ranger Jack Burton, seemed very cool and informative as he led us as close to the front of the home as possible. When we arrived near the swimming pool, which was installed in 1955 after Senator Johnson’s near-fatal heart attack, Ranger Burton allowed me to stand on the pool’s diving board. As my photographer carefully place me onto the diving board, I thought he might slip and fall into the pool; which would have made my day.

During our time in front of the Texas White House, I thought about President Johnson in his bedroom on January 22, 1973 when he suffered a massive heart attack. It was roughly 3:39pm and as his heartbeat for the final few times, he telephoned his Secret Service agents for help. When the agents arrived moments later, the 64-year-old former President was dead – the telephone was still in his hand. Hopefully someday, when the home is re-opened to visitors, I will be photographed in LBJ’s bedroom.

The Texas White House on the LBJ Ranch was originally built in 1894. About 15 years later, the future President’s Aunt Frank and Uncle Clarence Martin bought the house and lived there until Frank sold it to Lyndon Johnson in 1951. After I posed for a photo with our guide Jack Burton, the three of us walked to an outbuilding where some of LBJ’s favorite automobiles were on display. While his golf cart, white Lincoln Continentals and Ford Phaeton were cool, the vehicle that impressed me the most was LBJ’s 1962 Amphicar – which was a car and boat all in one. Numerous stories from the ranch emerged that centered on Lyndon Johnson’s Amphicar and his sense of humor. The President frequently drove guests around the area in his light blue German-made vehicle. When LBJ’s small entourage arrived at Lake Lyndon B. Johnson, which was near Granite Shoals, Texas, the President drove the vehicle straight for the water and yelled out: “The brakes don’t work! The brakes won’t hold! We’re going in! We’re going under!”  When the car floated and Johnson engaged the propeller to maneuver around in the water, the President laughed out loud and teased his terrified guests. Who would’ve guessed that LBJ was such a prankster?

When Tom was finished shooting images of me while I posed alongside some of LBJ’s personal vehicles, the three of us ventured back into the heat and towards the airstrip where Lyndon Johnson’s Lockheed C-140 JetStar was on display inside a hangar. It turned out the four-engine jet was used by Johnson while he served as Vice President under John Kennedy. JFK, who was not overly fond of Johnson, would not allow the V.P. to use an official Air Force Two plane to travel to the LBJ Ranch. Instead, LBJ used the smaller Lockheed; which became affectionately known as Air Force One-Half. After I posed for a few photos with the exterior of the plane, Tom placed me at the doorway for some additional images. When the three of us were finished with our short visit with LBJ’s jet, we boarded the Highlander and drove around the ranch that LBJ loved so dearly.

When we finished our round-trip of the ranchland and exited the Texas White House property, Vicki navigated our vehicle back to the site we had bypassed earlier in the day – LBJ’s birthplace. Since the replica birthplace was situated across the road from the Johnson Family Cemetery, I knew it was time to stand on the President’s tombstone. Once my photographer’s wife pulled the Highlander into the cemetery’s parking lot, however, I immediately saw a family near the burial ground’s stone wall; their presence initially kept Tom from entering the hallowed ground. Vicki stayed in the vehicle’s air conditioning while my photographer carried me across the street to the President’s reconstructed birthplace. The original house was built in 1889 by Lyndon’s grandfather Sam Ealy Johnson; but it was torn down in the 1940s. In 1964, President Johnson had his birthplace rebuilt – using old photographs and family members’ memories to make the place look like it did when LBJ was born there on August 27, 1908. Lyndon Johnson’s birthplace has the distinction of being the only Presidential birthplace reconstructed, refurbished, and interpreted by an incumbent President.

My resin heart began to pump fast as Tom carried me from LBJ’s reconstructed birthplace towards the Johnson Family Cemetery that was located across the street. As we neared the road, the only vehicle I saw in the parking lot was our Highlander – I was only minutes from standing on the red granite stone that marked President Johnson’s grave. But it didn’t take long for our luck to change. Before we could get close to the stone wall that surrounded the graveyard, a carload of tourists arrived. At first, I thought they might decide to visit the birthplace first, but that didn’t happen. The entire family exited their car, and they gathered around the burial ground to see the Presidential gravesite. Tom wanted to wait for them to leave, but when that group brought out their picnic lunch, it appeared they were there for the long haul. As Tom placed me back in the camera case and began to walk dejectedly towards our car, I heard him say out loud to himself: “The next time I come here, Bob Moldenhauer will be with me and I’ll get T.J. onto LBJ’s tombstone no matter how long it takes.”

I had the feeling of being left unfulfilled as we drove away from the Lyndon B. Johnson National Historic Park around 12:45pm. My photographer was so close to achieving the goal of me standing on LBJ’s grave that he could taste it; yet we headed towards Johnson City empty handed with the infamous “Moldenhauer one-person rule” running through our minds. After a 13-mile ride, we arrived at the Visitor Center of the Lyndon Johnson Boyhood Home; which was located almost in the center of Johnson City – a town of less than 2,000 people that was named after LBJ’s great uncle James Polk Johnson. We killed some time in the small LBJ museum in the Visitor Center before our 2:00pm tour of the house began. There were only a couple of artifacts on display in the museum that sparked my interest – including a 1910 Model T Ford that was given to LBJ by Henry Ford II. While the car was cool, the highlight for me was posing near the actual table that President Johnson used when he signed the Federal Aid to Education Bill on May 11, 1965 outside of the Junction School near his ranch.

At a few minutes before two o’clock, a NPS Ranger led the three of us to the front of LBJ’s childhood home that was located about a block away. The seven-room single-story house was built in 1901. A dozen years later, the future President’s father paid $2,925 for the house/property and moved his family there two weeks after Lyndon’s fifth birthday. LBJ lived there with his family until he graduated from high school in 1924. While most of the furnishings in the home were of the period, the area that excited me the most was the East front porch. In the first week of March 1937, Lyndon B. Johnson stood on his father’s porch and announced his candidacy for the U.S. House of Representatives for the Tenth District of Texas. As I stood on that very porch, I was standing in the footsteps of a future President whose career in public service and politics got it’s start right there.

I enjoyed my visit to LBJ’s boyhood home in Johnson City, which was a great way to end my day filled with President Lyndon B. Johnson. While our LBJ sites were over, we weren’t quite finished sightseeing on that Saturday. With Vicki behind the wheel of our Highlander, we headed east for 48 miles until we were parked near the Capitol Building in Austin, Texas at roughly 4:30pm. The three of us walked to the north side of the Capitol, which was 302 feet tall and is the sixth tallest state capitol in the country. Although the Capitol Building was dedicated on May 18, 1888; the Goddess of Liberty statue that stood atop the dome had only been there since 1986. Since it was late in the afternoon on Saturday, we had the Capitol grounds to ourselves; except for a bunch of well-dressed youngsters who posed for a group photoshoot.

During our 25-minute walk around the Capitol grounds, Vicki used her phone to place reservations at the Drury Inn that was located roughly five miles to the north. That hotel was great for two reasons – it was only a few miles from the LBJ Presidential Library that was first on our morning’s agenda; plus, the Drury Inn offered free dinner. Whenever my cheap photographer sees or hears the word “free”, he’s all over it – even though the hotel’s dinner menu is limited and it’s not the finest cuisine in the world. As a matter of fact, when Tom returned to our room after dinner, I heard him say to Vicki: “Those definitely weren’t Zimmerman’s hot dogs; not even close. I’ve heard hot dogs are made from lips and a-holes; at least according to Dan Aykroyd – which is okay as long as those parts come from cattle. I’m convinced that the dogs we just ate may have been made from actual dogs.”

While I spent the night standing alongside the television set, I couldn’t help but think of Lyndon Baines Johnson – after all, I had been exposed to most of his illustrious life the entire day. I looked forward to visiting the LBJ Library in the morning, even though the one artifact I had hoped to see there didn’t belong to Johnson. It was John F. Kennedy’s Catholic missal that was onboard Air Force One and was used to swear-in LBJ after the assassination. If that religious book is on display and I can pose next to it, then I’ll be happy – I won’t complain if there isn’t much else. As I envisioned Johnson as he took the Oath of Office onboard Air Force One, I kept hearing a chant over and over in my mind: “Hey, hey, LBJ – that book belongs to JFK.”