Depleted Texas lakes expose ghost towns, graves
By ANGELA K. BROWN and MICHAEL GRACZYK Associated Press BLUFFTON, Texas, November 20 (AP) – Johnny C. Parks died two days before his first birthday more than a century ago. His grave slipped from sight along with the rest of the tiny town of Bluffton when Lake Buchanan was filled 55 years later. Now, the cracked marble tombstone engraved with the date Oct. 15, 1882, which is normally covered by 20 to 30 feet of water, has been eerily exposed as a yearlong drought shrinks one of Texas’ largest lakes. Across the state, receding lakes have revealed a prehistoric skull, ancient tools, fossils and a small cemetery that appears to contain the graves of freed slaves. Some of the discoveries have attracted interest from local historians, and looters also have scavenged for pieces of history. More than two dozen looters have been arrested at one site. “In an odd way, this drought has provided an opportunity to view and document, where appropriate, some of these finds and understand what they consist of,” said Pat Mercado-Allinger, the Texas Historical Commission’s archeological division director. “Most people in Texas probably didn’t realize what was under these lakes.” Texas finished its driest 12 months ever with an average of 8.5 inches of rain through September, nearly 13 inches below normal. Water levels in the region’s lakes, most of which were manmade, have dropped by more than a dozen feet in many cases. The vanishing water has revealed the long-submerged building foundations of Woodville, Oklahoma, which was flooded in 1944 when the Red River was dammed to form Lake Texoma. A century-old church has emerged at Falcon Lake, which straddles the Texas-Mexico border on the Rio Grande. Steven Standke and his wife, Carol, drove to the old Bluffton site on a sandy rutted path that GPS devices designate not as a road but the middle of the 22,335-acre lake, normally almost 31 miles long and five miles wide. “If you don’t see it now, you might never see it again,” said Carol Standke, of Center Point, as she and her husband inspected the ruins a mile from where concrete seawalls ordinarily would keep the lake from waterfront homes. […]
