Chicken Ranch report no. 6

Had a fun evening at Wurstfest tonight, with a dinner of wurst and sauerkraut washed down by some good Dortmunder. You know why I like living in New Braunfels so much, despite all the B.S. from the city council? This is why. Lots of Germanic pride on display tonight, along with polka. Lots of polka. And yodeling. Good stuff.

None of which is directly relevant to tonight's writing on the Chicken Ranch book, but I suppose it put me in a good enough mood to tackle one pressing issue head-on. Namely, how do I deal with oft-repeated "fact" that I strongly suspect, but cannot prove, was wholly invented by a previous author? How does an author, writing a history, handle an important time period in which which no good contemporary sources or after-the-fact accounts exist? I tread carefully, but firmly. How can I do otherwise?

If the widowed Mrs. Swine is a fiction, then she is a convenient one. Prostitution certainly flourished in 19th century La Grange, as it did throughout Texas and the Old West. Somebody had to be first, it stands to reason, and if nothing else, the homely, crude widow dressed in black makes for a good story.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: For being the world's most famous brothel, the Chicken Ranch has had a mind-boggling amount not written about it. My list of 19th century sources is vanishingly short. Still, I persevere. It's what I do.

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