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The funny thing is, if left to myself, I search these kinds of places out. I love history, even corny border-town history. In this case, I stopped here because a sign said Public Restroom. I had come down with a touch of Montezuma’s revenge during the night and had ventured out in search of the local clinic. I was lost and ended up at the Judge Roy Bean Burial site. I snapped a few pictures then made a run for the local clinic.
Before I could leave, the attendant made sure I saw their famous Nativity Collection (very boring for an atheist). A rich patron of the museum had left her collection to the Whitehead Museum. They built a special air-conditioned building to house them all. At the door, visitors are warned to pet the cats at their own risk.
I was one of five visitors the day I visited; they expect about 10 people per day. That is a good enough reason to build a museum for me.
I finally found the clinic – a couple of shots and a few pills later and I’m still sick (four days later).
1 comment:
I have seen that tombstone myself... wow talk about memories.
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