April Slaughter (25 page)

I COULDN’T VERY WELL WRITE A BOOK about paranormal encounters in Texas without including one of the state’s most recognizable symbols—the Alamo. Whether people know the exact history of the Alamo or not, most of us recognize the name. It is a place I deeply respect.

I had never been to the Alamo before moving from Rhode Island to Texas in August 2007, but I had often heard that visiting the shrine was something all Texans had to do at least once in their lifetimes. Friends and family had described it to me as an educational experience, but also a solemn and spiritual one as well.

Allen and I met up with his father and stepmother for a weekend in San Antonio to introduce them to their new grand-children, my twin daughters Madison and Jordyn. We didn’t
have a whole lot of time to see everything we wanted to, but as we discussed the schedule, Allen and I believed it would be a good experience to see the Alamo and share a piece of Texas’ history with the girls.

Before we left for San Antonio, I did what I always do prior to visiting any new place—I pulled up the history and tried to somehow envision the events that made it so important in the past as well as the role it might play now and in the future. Texas is a state unlike any other, in that I have never before experienced the level of pride I have found in those who call Texas home. There are more state flags flying alongside the American flag than I have seen anywhere else. I have often mentioned to Allen, a native Texan, that this state is really a world all its own. He usually just nods and smiles at me in agreement.

The Alamo is an intrinsic part of Lone Star history. It began as Misión San Antonio de Valero in 1724 and served as a place where Spanish missionaries would educate and convert the Indian people. It was used in that capacity for nearly seventy years. In 1793, the Indians were given the land from the five missions throughout Texas when Spanish officials decided that the missions would no longer be used for religious purposes.

Troops fighting in the Mexican War of Independence took up residence at the mission in the early 1800s and nicknamed it the Alamo, which translates to “cottonwood” in Spanish. Some say that a nearby cluster of cottonwood trees was the inspiration behind the new name, though others believe it is simply because the men wished to name the mission after their hometown, Alamo del Parras, Coahuila.

For ten years during the Mexican struggle for independence, the Spanish, Mexican, and rebel militaries occupied the Alamo. In December 1835, during the Texas Revolution, Texian and Tejano volunteers won out in a five-day battle against Mexican troops led by General Marín Perfecto de Cós. The Mexicans were
ultimately forced to surrender and the volunteers defending the site held their position. General Antonio López de Santa Anna advanced on the Alamo with his army on February 23, 1836, and for thirteen days the battle raged. The Texian and Tejano men fought a good fight, but the battle was lost and Santa Anna took control of the Alamo on March 6. While the exact number of casualties from the siege of the Alamo varies, it is estimated that nearly two hundred Texans perished and at least six hundred Mexicans (if not a great deal more) lost their lives.

Today, the old mission chapel and “long barracks” are the only remaining original structures at the site predating the Texas Revolution. The mission itself is gone, but the history is alive and well at the state’s most visited historic site.

Paranormal investigations of the property are not allowed, as it is a dedicated shrine to the many who perished there. This is not to say that stories of phenomena have not originated at the site—quite the contrary. The first of many paranormal events occurred after Santa Anna and a majority of his men advanced toward modern-day Houston shortly after the siege of the Alamo. Santa Anna ordered one thousand troops to stay behind in San Antonio to control the rebel forces. In April 1836, Santa Anna was captured by Sam Houston and his men; in an attempt at retaliation, Santa Anna ordered the remainder of his troops in San Antonio to completely destroy the Alamo. As these men approached, six apparitions materialized at the mission doors and commanded that they cause no harm to the mission, frightening the men away.

Assigned with the task of destroying the mission by Santa Anna, Colonel Sanchez was undeterred and sent a group of men to destroy the long barracks. Once again, an apparition appeared to dissuade them. The spirit of a tall man with large balls of fire in each of his two outstretched hands rose from the building and hovered over the men. They quickly retreated, unable and unwilling to complete their assigned task.

When the Alamo was overtaken, the bodies of those who defended it were burned on the property, leading some to believe that their souls had combined into the spiritual forces that continued to defend the site.

Changes and repairs to both the barracks and the chapel began shortly after Texas was annexed into the United States in 1846, and the city of San Antonio began to utilize the complex as their police headquarters and jailing facility. It didn’t take long for the prisoners and staff to complain about seeing strange shadows and hearing disembodied moans. San Antonio’s politicians eventually moved the facilities off-site as a result.

Today, there are more apparitions reportedly wandering the grounds than can accurately be numbered, but several of them make repeat appearances. The ghost of a small, blondehaired boy is often seen in the area that now houses the gift shop, though he also walks around the rest of the complex. For one reason or another, his apparition is most often seen on the grounds during the first few weeks of February.

The basement of the mission, which is now mostly used for storage, has also played host to ghostly experiences. Staff members have often felt as though someone were creeping up behind them while working. When they turn to see who might be approaching, the apparition of an Indian man is seen as he quickly steps backward through the wall and disappears. Employees have naturally become reluctant to enter the basement for fear of a repeat encounter with this entity.

Unable to conduct a formal investigation of the property, I decided that it might be helpful to invite a “sensitive” to go along with me and my family on our visit. I contacted a local associate of mine whose abilities have impressed me in the past and asked her if she would be willing to relay her impressions of the grounds. She agreed, but does not wish to be named. We’ll simply refer to her as Laura.

With Laura accompanying our family for the visit, we hoped that she would be able to describe for us anything she might sense or feel in regard to paranormal activity. She was fairly quiet as we first began to wander the complex, but as we approached the long barracks she became quite sullen.

“Are you picking up on something?” I asked.

“An overwhelming sense of sadness and defeat,” she began. “I see a small group of women crying; a few of them with small children. I don’t know for sure who they are, but I get the sense that they are connected to some of the men that lost their lives here.”

That thought made me instantly sympathetic, as I looked at my girls and wondered what it must have been like for the families of the men who died at the Alamo. The battles that took place here must have devastated those who were left behind to grieve for the loss of their loved ones.

“Someone wants us to go into the chapel,” said Laura.

As we followed her in, we all seemed to feel an automatic reverence. Even my little girls were well-behaved without my having to instruct them to be calm and quiet. There were fewer than a dozen other visitors in the chapel that afternoon. While we were slightly disappointed at not being able to take photographs within the building, we still felt privileged to be allowed in to see it along with the relics still encased inside.

After twenty or so minutes had passed, Laura pulled Allen and me aside and told us that she saw the apparition of a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, sitting on a ledge just below one of the windows near the ceiling.

“He likes watching the people who come in,” she said. “He’s looked at me and smiled a couple of times in the past minute or so.”

“So he actually sees us and knows we are all here?” asked Allen.

“Yes, but I don’t get the impression that he ever comes down from that ledge to observe. He may not be there every day, but he’s there now and it seems like he truly enjoys people visiting.”

“Do you know who he might be?” I asked.

“No, I don’t get a name or even if he himself lived or died here,” said Laura.

We spent more time walking through the chapel, but Laura did not receive any more impressions and we decided it would be nice to walk the grounds outside for awhile.

The entire complex is beautifully landscaped and maintained, obviously very well-cared for by those assigned with the task. The volunteers who give their time to preserve and educate others about such an important piece of Texas history truly touch my heart.

It is no wonder that a great deal of residual energy still resides at the Alamo; with such a tumultuous past and loss of life, it certainly has reason to be haunted. Other visitors undoubtedly feel the same respect and reverence for this historic site as we did on our visit. Perhaps one day the souls who still roam the grounds and buildings will move on and leave the past behind them. As for now, they remain and continue to touch the lives of all who remember the Alamo.