Travel alert issued: Wherever we go, there y'all are
JERRY AULDS

Geographic evidence fails to support my contention that El Campo, the "Pearl of the Prairie," sits smack in the middle of the globe, extending its connections to the north, south, east and west.

However, other more significant proof buttresses my case. First, how much weight can one attribute to maps when not even the mapmakers can properly refold one of their creations?

And was it not an esteemed geographer from another era who, not knowing what existed in unexplored territory and rather than admitting his lack of knowledge, chose to write in that space on the face of the map, "Here be dragons?"

But my case does not rely on simply discrediting mapsters. Consider the testimony of El Campo car guy Russell Rasmussen, who along with his wife, Elizabeth, his son, Tyler, and inlaws Maribel and Martin Hoke, left El Campo just after Christmas for a skiing vacation in beautiful, snow-packed Red River, N.M.

When he returned to El Campo, Russell swore to me in front of witnesses that upon arrival in Red River, a distance of 984 miles, the first person they spoke to was a ski rental guy who, upon learning they were from El Campo, immediately asked, "How are things at Greek Brothers?"

Just a small world coincidence? If there was just this solitary connection, you might be right. But Russell provided me with further proof.

The first ski instructor engaged by the Rasmussens and Hokes hailed from Brenham, the nearby home place of those contented cows. He told Russell that when he lived there, it was just around the corner from the Youngs. "The Youngs are among my in-law's best friends," Russell marveled to me.

Still unconvinced? Ponder on this.

The second ski instructor engaged by the family, upon hearing they were from El Campo, gleefully offered, "Our guide took us duck and goose hunting on the Raun's family land just outside of El Campo last year!"

Happenstance? Hardly.

Russell then recalled yet another El Campo connection for me. He said he had gone into a small hut adjacent to the ski lift for a cup of hot chocolate. Once inside, he started up a friendly conversation with two young men, swapping names, jobs and hometowns. Russell learned the young men called Rosenberg home, and at the mention of El Campo, the talkative member of the twosome inquired of Russell, "How did your firemen's fried oyster supper go this year?"

It turned out an El Campo acquaintance had invited the Rosenberg man to the fund-raising supper two years ago, where he had been properly impressed by the quality of the food, the money raised, the number of people served, and the long, long lines of people waiting patiently to fill their plates.

Need still more proof of the El Campo connection? One last story ought to clinch it for me, I think.

How about the church group that Russell and family encountered from East Bernard? "They knew everybody we know in El Campo and then some," marveled Russell. "Here we are, a thousand miles from home, and everybody I run into has an El Campo connection. It just about blew me away, and then when I got home, I found out that El Campo Athletic Director Bob Gillis and his family, along with senior quarterback Elliott Babcock and his entire family, had also been enjoying the crowded slopes of Red River, even though we never even saw any of them. That's one El Campo connection that got away!" he exclaimed.

When you're trying to get away from it all, remember this: The world is watching, and the world is connected to El Campo.

Be careful who you reach out and touch!

This classic Jerry Aulds column first appeared in the El Campo Leader- News on January 10, 2004.