Academic literature on the topic 'Garza County, Texas'

A skull representing a new genus and species of Late Triassic temnospondyl, Rileymillerus cosgriffi, is described from the Cooper Canyon Formation, upper Dockum Group of Garza County, Texas. Rileymillerus resembles Latiscopus disjunctus in size and proportions, but the very poorly preserved unique type specimen of L. disjunctus indicates that the taxon should be considered a nomen dubium. Characters of R. cosgriffi include its small size combined with relatively small laterally-facing orbits, relatively high skull, lack of lateral line canals, lateral exposure of the palatine on the skull surface, and lack of otic notch/quadrate angle. No postcranial material can be definitely associated, although we describe a partial vertebral column that might pertain to R. cosgriffi. Relationships of R. cosgriffi are uncertain. The possibilities of a close relationship to Almsauridae, Tupilakosauridae or (especially) Brachyopoidea are explicitly examined, but for the present we consider R. cosgriffi as Temnospondyl incertae sedis. Characters described in the text have been converted to the tripartite (part, feature, state) standardized format developed for the PRESERVE web site, and are presented as a 125-character data matrix in the Appendix.

ABSTRACTThe Post Quarry, within the lower part of the type section of the Upper Triassic Cooper Canyon Formation in southern Garza County, western Texas, contains a remarkably diverse vertebrate assemblage. The Post Quarry has produced: the small temnospondylRileymillerus cosgriffi; the metoposauridApachesaurus gregorii; possible dicynodonts and eucynodonts; a clevosaurid sphenodontian; non-archosauriform archosauromorphs (Trilophosaurus dornorum, simiosaurians, and possiblyMalerisaurus); the phytosaurLeptosuchus; several aetosaurs (Calyptosuchus wellesi,Typothorax coccinarum,Paratypothorax, andDesmatosuchus smalli); the poposauroidShuvosaurus inexpectatus(“Chatterjeea elegans”); the rauisuchidPostosuchus kirkpatricki; an early crocodylomorph; several dinosauromorphs (the lagerpetidDromomeron gregorii, the silesauridTechnosaurus smalli, a herrerasaurid, and an early neotheropod); and several enigmatic small diapsids. Revised lithostratigraphic correlations of the lower Cooper Canyon Formation with the Tecovas Formation, the occurrence ofLeptosuchus, and the overall composition of the assemblage indicate that the Post Quarry falls within the Adamanian biozone, and not the Revueltian biozone. Stratigraphic subdivision of the Adamanian biozone may be possible, and the Post Quarry may be correlative with the upper part of the Adamanian biozone in Arizona. The age of the Post Quarry assemblage is possibly late Lacian or earliest Alaunian (late early Norian or earliest middle Norian), between 220 and 215 Ma.

Phase II cultural resources investigations for the Pharr-Reynosa International Bridge currently under construction in Hidalgo County, Texas, were conducted by Prewitt and Associates, Inc. in September 1993 and June 1994. The work included additional survey and documentation of seven historic sites, testing and evaluation of three sites, archival and oral history research on the former Hispanic community of EI Capote, and collection of additional geoarcheological data. The seven historic sites (4IHG162-41HG168) represent former nineteenth- and twentieth-century house sites within EI Capote. Due to a lack of integrity, it is recommended that all seven sites be considered ineligible for listing on the National Register of Historic Places. Three other probable historic sites (Garza Ranch No.2, a segment of the Old Military Road, and the de la Viila Ranch) are located outside the area of potential effects. These were not recorded, but their locations are noted. Also outside the area of potential effects, a historic house site (4IHG 169) contains the only known standing dwelling associated with nineteenth-century EI Capote. Mechanical and hand excavations of the historic components at 41HG153 and 41HG158 revealed severe disturbances and lack of intact features. It is recommended that these site~ be considered ineligible for listing on the National Register. Surface and subsurface search for additional evidence of prehistoric occupations at 41HG153 yielded one artifact. It is recommended that the prehistoric component at 41HG153 also be considered ineligible for listing on the National Register. Mapping and recording of features at a historic brick factory confirmed the site's high archeological integrity. Site 41HG156 is the only Ranching Period brick kiln known in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas. It is recommended that it be considered eligible for listing on the National Register.

The Leichhardt Highway is a six hundred-kilometre stretch of sealed inland road that joins the Australian Queensland border town of Goondiwindi with the Capricorn Highway, just south of the Tropic of Capricorn. Named after the young Prussian naturalist Ludwig Leichhardt, part of this roadway follows the route his party took as they crossed northern Australia from Morton Bay (Brisbane) to Port Essington (near Darwin). Ignoring the usual colonial practice of honouring the powerful and aristocratic, Leichhardt named the noteworthy features along this route after his supporters and fellow expeditioners. Many of these names are still in use and a series of public monuments have also been erected in the intervening century and a half to commemorate this journey. Unlike Leichhardt, who survived his epic trip, some contemporary travellers who navigate the remote roadway named in his honour do not arrive at their final destinations. Memorials to these violently interrupted lives line the highway, many enigmatically located in places where there is no obvious explanation for the lethal violence that occurred there. This examination profiles the memorials along Leichhardt’s highway as Gothic practice, in order to illuminate some of the uncanny paradoxes around public memorials, as well as the loaded emotional terrain such commemorative practices may inhabit. All humans know that death awaits them (Morell). Yet, despite this, and the unprecedented torrent of images of death and dying saturating news, television, and social media (Duwe; Sumiala; Bisceglio), Gorer’s mid-century ideas about the denial of death and Becker’s 1973 Pulitzer prize-winning description of the purpose of human civilization as a defence against this knowledge remains current in the contemporary trope that individuals (at least in the West) deny their mortality. Contributing to this enigmatic situation is how many deny the realities of aging and bodily decay—the promise of the “life extension” industries (Hall)—and are shielded from death by hospitals, palliative care providers, and the multimillion dollar funeral industry (Kiernan). Drawing on Piatti-Farnell’s concept of popular culture artefacts as “haunted/haunting” texts, the below describes how memorials to the dead can powerfully reconnect those who experience them with death’s reality, by providing an “encrypted passageway through which the dead re-join the living in a responsive cycle of exchange and experience” (Piatti-Farnell). While certainly very different to the “sublime” iconic Gothic structure, the Gothic ruin that Summers argued could be seen as “a sacred relic, a memorial, a symbol of infinite sadness, of tenderest sensibility and regret” (407), these memorials do function in both this way as melancholy/regret-inducing relics as well as in Piatti-Farnell’s sense of bringing the dead into everyday consciousness. Such memorialising activity also evokes one of Spooner’s features of the Gothic, by acknowledging “the legacies of the past and its burdens on the present” (8).Ludwig Leichhardt and His HighwayWhen Leichhardt returned to Sydney in 1846 from his 18-month journey across northern Australia, he was greeted with surprise and then acclaim. Having mounted his expedition without any backing from influential figures in the colony, his party was presumed lost only weeks after its departure. Yet, once Leichhardt and almost all his expedition returned, he was hailed “Prince of Explorers” (Erdos). When awarding him a significant purse raised by public subscription, then Speaker of the Legislative Council voiced what he believed would be the explorer’s lasting memorial —the public memory of his achievement: “the undying glory of having your name enrolled amongst those of the great men whose genius and enterprise have impelled them to seek for fame in the prosecution of geographical science” (ctd. Leichhardt 539). Despite this acclaim, Leichhardt was a controversial figure in his day; his future prestige not enhanced by his Prussian/Germanic background or his disappearance two years later attempting to cross the continent. What troubled the colonial political class, however, was his transgressive act of naming features along his route after commoners rather than the colony’s aristocrats. Today, the Leichhardt Highway closely follows Leichhardt’s 1844-45 route for some 130 kilometres from Miles, north through Wandoan to Taroom. In the first weeks of his journey, Leichhardt named 16 features in this area: 6 of the more major of these after the men in his party—including the Aboriginal man ‘Charley’ and boy John Murphy—4 more after the tradesmen and other non-aristocratic sponsors of his venture, and the remainder either in memory of the journey’s quotidian events or natural features there found. What we now accept as traditional memorialising practice could in this case be termed as Gothic, in that it upset the rational, normal order of its day, and by honouring humble shopkeepers, blacksmiths and Indigenous individuals, revealed the “disturbance and ambivalence” (Botting 4) that underlay colonial class relations (Macintyre). On 1 December 1844, Leichhardt also memorialised his own past, referencing the Gothic in naming a watercourse The Creek of the Ruined Castles due to the “high sandstone rocks, fissured and broken like pillars and walls and the high gates of the ruined castles of Germany” (57). Leichhardt also disturbed and disfigured the nature he so admired, famously carving his initials deep into trees along his route—a number of which still exist, including the so-called Leichhardt Tree, a large coolibah in Taroom’s main street. Leichhardt also wrote his own memorial, keeping detailed records of his experiences—both good and more regretful—in the form of field books, notebooks and letters, with his major volume about this expedition published in London in 1847. Leichhardt’s journey has since been memorialised in various ways along the route. The Leichhardt Tree has been further defaced with numerous plaques nailed into its ancient bark, and the town’s federal government-funded Bicentennial project raised a formal memorial—a large sandstone slab laid with three bronze plaques—in the newly-named Ludwig Leichhardt Park. Leichhardt’s name also adorns many sites both along, and outside, the routes of his expeditions. While these fittingly include natural features such as the Leichhardt River in north-west Queensland (named in 1856 by Augustus Gregory who crossed it by searching for traces of the explorer’s ill-fated 1848 expedition), there are also many businesses across Queensland and the Northern Territory less appropriately carrying his name. More somber monuments to Leichhardt’s legacy also resulted from this journey. The first of these was the white settlement that followed his declaration that the countryside he moved through was well endowed with fertile soils. With squatters and settlers moving in and land taken up before Leichhardt had even arrived back in Sydney, the local Yeeman people were displaced, mistreated and completely eradicated within a decade (Elder). Mid-twentieth century, Patrick White’s literary reincarnation, Voss of the eponymous novel, and paintings by Sidney Nolan and Albert Tucker have enshrined in popular memory not only the difficult (and often described as Gothic) nature of the landscape through which Leichhardt travelled (Adams; Mollinson, and Bonham), but also the distinctive and contrary blend of intelligence, spiritual mysticism, recklessness, and stoicism Leichhardt brought to his task. Roadside Memorials Today, the Leichhardt Highway is also lined with a series of roadside shrines to those who have died much more recently. While, like centotaphs, tombstones, and cemeteries, these memorialise the dead, they differ in usually marking the exact location that death occurred. In 43 BC, Cicero articulated the idea of the dead living in memory, “The life of the dead consists in the recollection cherished of them by the living” (93), yet Nelson is one of very few contemporary writers to link roadside memorials to elements of Gothic sensibility. Such constructions can, however, be described as Gothic, in that they make the roadway unfamiliar by inscribing onto it the memory of corporeal trauma and, in the process, re-creating their locations as vivid sites of pain and suffering. These are also enigmatic sites. Traffic levels are generally low along the flat or gently undulating terrain and many of these memorials are located in locations where there is no obvious explanation for the violence that occurred there. They are loci of contradictions, in that they are both more private than other memorials, in being designed, and often made and erected, by family and friends of the deceased, and yet more public, visible to all who pass by (Campbell). Cemeteries are set apart from their surroundings; the roadside memorial is, in contrast, usually in open view along a thoroughfare. In further contrast to cemeteries, which contain many relatively standardised gravesites, individual roadside memorials encapsulate and express not only the vivid grief of family and friends but also—when they include vehicle wreckage or personal artefacts from the fatal incident—provide concrete evidence of the trauma that occurred. While the majority of individuals interned in cemeteries are long dead, roadside memorials mark relatively contemporary deaths, some so recent that there may still be tyre marks, debris and bloodstains marking the scene. In 2008, when I was regularly travelling this roadway, I documented, and researched, the six then extant memorial sites that marked the locations of ten fatalities from 1999 to 2006. (These were all still in place in mid-2014.) The fatal incidents are very diverse. While half involved trucks and/or road trains, at least three were single vehicle incidents, and the deceased ranged from 13 to 84 years of age. Excell argues that scholarship on roadside memorials should focus on “addressing the diversity of the material culture” (‘Contemporary Deathscapes’) and, in these terms, the Leichhardt Highway memorials vary from simple crosses to complex installations. All include crosses (mostly, but not exclusively, white), and almost all are inscribed with the name and birth/death dates of the deceased. Most include flowers or other plants (sometimes fresh but more often plastic), but sometimes also a range of relics from the crash and/or personal artefacts. These are, thus, unsettling sights, not least in the striking contrast they provide with the highway and surrounding road reserve. The specific location is a key component of their ability to re-sensitise viewers to the dangers of the route they are travelling. The first memorial travelling northwards, for instance, is situated at the very point at which the highway begins, some 18 kilometres from Goondiwindi. Two small white crosses decorated with plastic flowers are set poignantly close together. The inscriptions can also function as a means of mobilising connection with these dead strangers—a way of building Secomb’s “haunted community”, whereby community in the post-colonial age can only be built once past “murderous death” (131) is acknowledged. This memorial is inscribed with “Cec Hann 06 / A Good Bloke / A Good hoarseman [sic]” and “Pat Hann / A Good Woman” to tragically commemorate the deaths of an 84-year-old man and his 79-year-old wife from South Australia who died in the early afternoon of 5 June 2006 when their Ford Falcon, towing a caravan, pulled onto the highway and was hit by a prime mover pulling two trailers (Queensland Police, ‘Double Fatality’; Jones, and McColl). Further north along the highway are two memorials marking the most inexplicable of road deaths: the single vehicle fatality (Connolly, Cullen, and McTigue). Darren Ammenhauser, aged 29, is remembered with a single white cross with flowers and plaque attached to a post, inscribed hopefully, “Darren Ammenhauser 1971-2000 At Rest.” Further again, at Billa Billa Creek, a beautifully crafted metal cross attached to a fence is inscribed with the text, “Kenneth J. Forrester / RIP Jack / 21.10.25 – 27.4.05” marking the death of the 79-year-old driver whose vehicle veered off the highway to collide with a culvert on the creek. It was reported that the vehicle rolled over several times before coming to rest on its wheels and that Forrester was dead when the police arrived (Queensland Police, ‘Fatal Traffic Incident’). More complex memorials recollect both single and multiple deaths. One, set on both sides of the road, maps the physical trajectory of the fatal smash. This memorial comprises white crosses on both sides of road, attached to a tree on one side, and a number of ancillary sites including damaged tyres with crosses placed inside them on both sides of the road. Simple inscriptions relay the inability of such words to express real grief: “Gary (Gazza) Stevens / Sadly missed” and “Gary (Gazza) Stevens / Sadly missed / Forever in our hearts.” The oldest and most complex memorial on the route, commemorating the death of four individuals on 18 June 1999, is also situated on both sides of the road, marking the collision of two vehicles travelling in opposite directions. One memorial to a 62-year-old man comprises a cross with flowers, personal and automotive relics, and a plaque set inside a wooden fence and simply inscribed “John Henry Keenan / 23-11-1936–18-06-1999”. The second memorial contains three white crosses set side-by-side, together with flowers and relics, and reveals that members of three generations of the same family died at this location: “Raymond Campbell ‘Butch’ / 26-3-67–18-6-99” (32 years of age), “Lorraine Margaret Campbell ‘Lloydie’ / 29-11-46–18-6-99” (53 years), and “Raymond Jon Campbell RJ / 28-1-86–18-6-99” (13 years). The final memorial on this stretch of highway is dedicated to Jason John Zupp of Toowoomba who died two weeks before Christmas 2005. This consists of a white cross, decorated with flowers and inscribed: “Jason John Zupp / Loved & missed by all”—a phrase echoed in his newspaper obituary. The police media statement noted that, “at 11.24pm a prime mover carrying four empty trailers [stacked two high] has rolled on the Leichhardt Highway 17km north of Taroom” (Queensland Police, ‘Fatal Truck Accident’). The roadside memorial was placed alongside a ditch on a straight stretch of road where the body was found. The coroner’s report adds the following chilling information: “Mr Zupp was thrown out of the cabin and his body was found near the cabin. There is no evidence whatsoever that he had applied the brakes or in any way tried to prevent the crash … Jason was not wearing his seatbelt” (Cornack 5, 6). Cornack also remarked the truck was over length, the brakes had not been properly adjusted, and the trip that Zupp had undertaken could not been lawfully completed according to fatigue management regulations then in place (8). Although poignant and highly visible due to these memorials, these deaths form a small part of Australia’s road toll, and underscore our ambivalent relationship with the automobile, where road death is accepted as a necessary side-effect of the freedom of movement the technology offers (Ladd). These memorials thus animate highways as Gothic landscapes due to the “multifaceted” (Haider 56) nature of the fear, terror and horror their acknowledgement can bring. Since 1981, there have been, for instance, between some 1,600 and 3,300 road deaths each year in Australia and, while there is evidence of a long term downward trend, the number of deaths per annum has not changed markedly since 1991 (DITRDLG 1, 2), and has risen in some years since then. The U.S.A. marked its millionth road death in 1951 (Ladd) along the way to over 3,000,000 during the 20th century (Advocates). These deaths are far reaching, with U.K. research suggesting that each death there leaves an average of 6 people significantly affected, and that there are some 10 to 20 per cent of mourners who experience more complicated grief and longer term negative affects during this difficult time (‘Pathways Through Grief’). As the placing of roadside memorials has become a common occurrence the world over (Klaassens, Groote, and Vanclay; Grider; Cohen), these are now considered, in MacConville’s opinion, not only “an appropriate, but also an expected response to tragedy”. Hockey and Draper have explored the therapeutic value of the maintenance of “‘continuing bonds’ between the living and the dead” (3). This is, however, only one explanation for the reasons that individuals erect roadside memorials with research suggesting roadside memorials perform two main purposes in their linking of the past with the present—as not only sites of grieving and remembrance, but also of warning (Hartig, and Dunn; Everett; Excell, Roadside Memorials; MacConville). Clark adds that by “localis[ing] and personalis[ing] the road dead,” roadside memorials raise the profile of road trauma by connecting the emotionless statistics of road death directly to individual tragedy. They, thus, transform the highway into not only into a site of past horror, but one in which pain and terror could still happen, and happen at any moment. Despite their increasing commonality and their recognition as cultural artefacts, these memorials thus occupy “an uncomfortable place” both in terms of public policy and for some individuals (Lowe). While in some states of the U.S.A. and in Ireland the erection of such memorials is facilitated by local authorities as components of road safety campaigns, in the U.K. there appears to be “a growing official opposition to the erection of memorials” (MacConville). Criticism has focused on the dangers (of distraction and obstruction) these structures pose to passing traffic and pedestrians, while others protest their erection on aesthetic grounds and even claim memorials can lower property values (Everett). While many ascertain a sense of hope and purpose in the physical act of creating such shrines (see, for instance, Grider; Davies), they form an uncanny presence along the highway and can provide dangerous psychological territory for the viewer (Brien). Alongside the townships, tourist sites, motels, and petrol stations vying to attract customers, they stain the roadway with the unmistakable sign that a violent death has happened—bringing death, and the dead, to the fore as a component of these journeys, and destabilising prominent cultural narratives of technological progress and safety (Richter, Barach, Ben-Michael, and Berman).Conclusion This investigation has followed Goddu who proposes that a Gothic text “registers its culture’s contradictions” (3) and, in profiling these memorials as “intimately connected to the culture that produces them” (Goddu 3) has proposed memorials as Gothic artefacts that can both disturb and reveal. Roadside memorials are, indeed, so loaded with emotional content that their close contemplation can be traumatising (Brien), yet they are inescapable while navigating the roadway. Part of their power resides in their ability to re-animate those persons killed in these violent in the minds of those viewing these memorials. In this way, these individuals are reincarnated as ghostly presences along the highway, forming channels via which the traveller can not only make human contact with the dead, but also come to recognise and ponder their own sense of mortality. While roadside memorials are thus like civic war memorials in bringing untimely death to the forefront of public view, roadside memorials provide a much more raw expression of the chaotic, anarchic and traumatic moment that separates the world of the living from that of the dead. While traditional memorials—such as those dedicated by, and to, Leichhardt—moreover, pay homage to the vitality of the lives of those they commemorate, roadside memorials not only acknowledge the alarming circumstances of unexpected death but also stand testament to the power of the paradox of the incontrovertibility of sudden death versus our lack of ability to postpone it. In this way, further research into these and other examples of Gothic memorialising practice has much to offer various areas of cultural study in Australia.ReferencesAdams, Brian. Sidney Nolan: Such Is Life. Hawthorn, Vic.: Hutchinson, 1987. Advocates for Highway and Auto Safety. “Motor Vehicle Traffic Fatalities & Fatality Rate: 1899-2003.” 2004. Becker, Ernest. The Denial of Death. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1973. Bisceglio, Paul. “How Social Media Is Changing the Way We Approach Death.” The Atlantic 20 Aug. 2013. Botting, Fred. Gothic: The New Critical Idiom. 2nd edition. Abingdon, UK: Routledge, 2014. Brien, Donna Lee. “Looking at Death with Writers’ Eyes: Developing Protocols for Utilising Roadside Memorials in Creative Writing Classes.” Roadside Memorials. Ed. Jennifer Clark. Armidale, NSW: EMU Press, 2006. 208–216. Campbell, Elaine. “Public Sphere as Assemblage: The Cultural Politics of Roadside Memorialization.” The British Journal of Sociology 64.3 (2013): 526–547. Cicero, Marcus Tullius. The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero. 43 BC. Trans. C. D. Yonge. London: George Bell & Sons, 1903. Clark, Jennifer. “But Statistics Don’t Ride Skateboards, They Don’t Have Nicknames Like ‘Champ’: Personalising the Road Dead with Roadside Memorials.” 7th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. Bath, UK: University of Bath, 2005. Cohen, Erik. “Roadside Memorials in Northeastern Thailand.” OMEGA: Journal of Death and Dying 66.4 (2012–13): 343–363. Connolly, John F., Anne Cullen, and Orfhlaith McTigue. “Single Road Traffic Deaths: Accident or Suicide?” Crisis: The Journal of Crisis Intervention and Suicide Prevention 16.2 (1995): 85–89. Cornack [Coroner]. Transcript of Proceedings. In The Matter of an Inquest into the Cause and Circumstances Surrounding the Death of Jason John Zupp. Towoomba, Qld.: Coroners Court. 12 Oct. 2007. Davies, Douglas. “Locating Hope: The Dynamics of Memorial Sites.” 6th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. York, UK: University of York, 2002. Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Local Government [DITRDLG]. Road Deaths Australia: 2007 Statistical Summary. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2008. Duwe, Grant. “Body-count Journalism: The Presentation of Mass Murder in the News Media.” Homicide Studies 4 (2000): 364–399. Elder, Bruce. Blood on the Wattle: Massacres and Maltreatment of Aboriginal Australians since 1788. Sydney: New Holland, 1998. Erdos, Renee. “Leichhardt, Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig (1813-1848).” Australian Dictionary of Biography Online Edition. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 1967. Everett, Holly. Roadside Crosses in Contemporary Memorial Culture. Austin: Texas UP, 2002. Excell, Gerri. “Roadside Memorials in the UK.” Unpublished MA thesis. Reading: University of Reading, 2004. ———. “Contemporary Deathscapes: A Comparative Analysis of the Material Culture of Roadside Memorials in the US, Australia and the UK.” 7th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. Bath, UK: University of Bath, 2005. Goddu, Teresa A. Gothic America: Narrative, History, and Nation. New York: Columbia UP, 2007. Gorer, Geoffrey. “The Pornography of Death.” Encounter V.4 (1955): 49–52. Grider, Sylvia. “Spontaneous Shrines: A Modern Response to Tragedy and Disaster.” New Directions in Folklore (5 Oct. 2001). Haider, Amna. “War Trauma and Gothic Landscapes of Dispossession and Dislocation in Pat Barker’s Regeneration Trilogy.” Gothic Studies 14.2 (2012): 55–73. Hall, Stephen S. Merchants of Immortality: Chasing the Dream of Human Life Extension. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, Harcourt, 2003. Hartig, Kate V., and Kevin M. Dunn. “Roadside Memorials: Interpreting New Deathscapes in Newcastle, New South Wales.” Australian Geographical Studies 36 (1998): 5–20. Hockey, Jenny, and Janet Draper. “Beyond the Womb and the Tomb: Identity, (Dis)embodiment and the Life Course.” Body & Society 11.2 (2005): 41–57. Online version: 1–25. Jones, Ian, and Kaye McColl. (2006) “Highway Tragedy.” Goondiwindi Argus 9 Jun. 2006. Kiernan, Stephen P. “The Transformation of Death in America.” Final Acts: Death, Dying, and the Choices We Make. Eds. Nan Bauer-Maglin, and Donna Perry. Rutgers University: Rutgers UP, 2010. 163–182. Klaassens, M., P.D. Groote, and F.M. Vanclay. “Expressions of Private Mourning in Public Space: The Evolving Structure of Spontaneous and Permanent Roadside Memorials in the Netherlands.” Death Studies 37.2 (2013): 145–171. Ladd, Brian. Autophobia: Love and Hate in the Automotive Age. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2008. Leichhardt, Ludwig. Journal of an Overland Expedition of Australia from Moreton Bay to Port Essington, A Distance of Upwards of 3000 Miles during the Years 1844–1845. London, T & W Boone, 1847. Facsimile ed. Sydney: Macarthur Press, n.d. Lowe, Tim. “Roadside Memorials in South Eastern Australia.” 7th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. Bath, UK: University of Bath, 2005. MacConville, Una. “Roadside Memorials.” Bath, UK: Centre for Death & Society, Department of Social and Policy Sciences, University of Bath, 2007. Macintyre, Stuart. “The Making of the Australian Working Class: An Historiographical Survey.” Historical Studies 18.71 (1978): 233–253. Mollinson, James, and Nicholas Bonham. Tucker. South Melbourne: Macmillan Company of Australia, and Australian National Gallery, 1982. Morell, Virginia. “Mournful Creatures.” Lapham’s Quarterly 6.4 (2013): 200–208. Nelson, Victoria. Gothicka: Vampire Heroes, Human Gods, and the New Supernatural. Harvard University: Harvard UP, 2012. “Pathways through Grief.” 1st National Conference on Bereavement in a Healthcare Setting. Dundee, 1–2 Sep. 2008. Piatti-Farnell, Lorna. “Words from the Culinary Crypt: Reading the Recipe as a Haunted/Haunting Text.” M/C Journal 16.3 (2013). Queensland Police. “Fatal Traffic Incident, Goondiwindi [Media Advisory].” 27 Apr. 2005. ———. “Fatal Truck Accident, Taroom.” Media release. 11 Dec. 2005. ———. “Double Fatality, Goondiwindi.” Media release. 5 Jun. 2006. Richter, E. D., P. Barach, E. Ben-Michael, and T. Berman. “Death and Injury from Motor Vehicle Crashes: A Public Health Failure, Not an Achievement.” Injury Prevention 7 (2001): 176–178. Secomb, Linnell. “Haunted Community.” The Politics of Community. Ed. Michael Strysick. Aurora, Co: Davies Group, 2002. 131–150. Spooner, Catherine. Contemporary Gothic. London: Reaktion, 2006.

In the Permian Basin, strata of Leonardian age typically consist of interbedded carbonates and siliciclastics interpreted to be turbidite deposits. Happy Spraberry Field produces from a 100-foot thick carbonate section in the Lower Clear Fork Formation (Lower Leonardian) on the Eastern Shelf of the Midland Basin. Reservoir facies include oolitic- to-skeletal grainstones and packstones, rudstones and in situ Tubiphytes bindstones. Depositional environments vary from open marine reefs to shallow marine oolitic shoal mounds. Best reservoir rocks are found in the oolitic-skeletal packstones. Diagenesis occurred in several phases and includes (1) micritization, (2) stabilization of skeletal fragments, (3) recrystallization of lime mud, (4) intense and selective dissolution, (5) precipitation of four different stages of calcite cement, (6) mechanical compaction, (7) late formation of anhydrite and (8) saddle dolomite and (9) replacement by chalcedony. Oomoldic porosity is the dominant pore type in oolitic grainstones and packstones. Incomplete dissolution of some ooids left ring-shaped structures that indicate ooids were originally bi-mineralic. Bacterial sulfate reduction is suggested by the presence of (1) dissolved anhydrite, (2) saddle dolomite, (3) late-stage coarse-calcite cement and (4) small clusters of pyrite. Diagenetic overprinting on depositional porosity is clearly evident in all reservoir facies and is especially important in the less-cemented parts of the oolitic grainstones where partially-dissolved ooids were subjected to mechanical compaction resulting in "eggshell" remnants. Pore filling by late anhydrite is most extensive in zones where dissolution and compaction were intense. Finally, a porosity-permeability model was constructed to present variations in oolitic packstone- rudstone-bindstone reservoir rocks. The poroperm model could not be applied to oolitic grainstone intervals because no consistent trends in the spatial distribution of porosity and permeability were identified. Routine core analysis did not produce any reliable value of water saturation (Sw). An attempt to take advantage of wireline log data indicates that the saturation exponent (n) may be variable in this reservoir.

The use of neural networks in the field of development geology is in its infancy. In this study, a neural network will be used to identify flow units in Happy Spraberry Field, Garza County, Texas. A flow unit is the mappable portion of the total reservoir within which geological and petrophysical properties that affect the flow of fluids are consistent and predictably different from the properties of other reservoir rock volumes (Ebanks, 1987). Ahr and Hammel (1999) further state a highly "ranked" flow unit (i.e. a good flow unit) would have the highest combined values of porosity and permeability with the least resistance to fluid flow. A flow unit may also include nonreservoir features such as shales and cemented layers where combined porosity-permeability values are lower and resistance to fluid flow much higher (i.e. a poor flow unit) (Ebanks, 1987). Production from Happy Spraberry Field primarily comes from a 100 foot interval of grainstones and packstones, Leonardian in age, at an average depth of 4,900 feet. Happy Spraberry Field is unlike most fields in that the majority of the wells have been cored in the zone of interest. This fact more easily lends the Happy Spraberry Field to a study involving neural networks. A neural network model was developed using a data set of 409 points where X and Y location, depth, gamma ray, deep resistivity, density porosity, neutron porosity, lab porosity, lab permeability and electrofacies were known throughout Happy Spraberry Field. The model contained a training data set of 205 cases, a verification data set of 102 cases and a testing data set of 102 cases. Ultimately two neural network models were created to identify electrofacies and reservoir quality (i.e. flow units). The neural networks were able to outperform linear methods and have a correct classification rate of 0.87 for electrofacies identification and 0.75 for reservoir quality identification.

The Spraberry Formation is traditionally thought of as deep-water turbidites in the central Midland Basin. At Happy Spraberry field, Garza County, Texas, however, production is from a carbonate interval about 100 feet thick that has been correlated on seismic sections with the Leonardian aged, Lower Clear Fork Formation. The "Happy field" carbonates were deposited on the Eastern Shelf of the Midland Basin and consist of oolitic skeletal grainstones and packstones, rudstones and floatstones, in situ Tubiphytes bindstones, and laminated to rippled, very-fine grained siltstones and sandstones. The highest reservoir "quality" facies are in the oolitic grainstones and packstones where grain-moldic and solution-enhanced intergranular porosity dominate. Other pore types present include incomplete grain moldic, vuggy, and solution-enhanced intramatrix. The purpose of this study was to relate pore geometry measured by digital petrographic image analysis to petrophysical characteristics, and finally, to reservoir quality. Image analysis was utilized to obtain size, shape, frequency, and total abundance of pore categories. Pore geometry and percent porosity were obtained by capturing digital images from thin sections viewed under a petrographic microscope. The images were transferred to computer storage for processing with a commercial image analysis program trademarked as Image Pro Plus (Version 4.0). A classification scheme was derived from the image processing enabling "pore facies" to be established. Pore facies were then compared to measured porosity and permeability from core analyses to determine relative "quality" of reservoir zones with different pore facies. Pore facies are defined on pore types, sizes, shapes, and abundances that occur in reproducible associations or patterns. These patterns were compared with porosity and permeability values from core analyses. Four pore facies were identified in the Happy field carbonates; they were examined for evidence of diagenetic change, depositional signatures, and fractures. Once the genetic categories were established for the four pore facies, the pore groups could be reexamined in stratigraphic context and placed in the stratigraphic section across Happy field. Finally, the combined porosity and permeability values characteristic of each pore facies were used to identify and rank good, intermediate, and poor flow units at field scale.

Lewisville Lake Environmental Learning Area (LLELA) is an 809-hectare property in Denton County, TX. A study of the vegetation community identified 466 species in 104 families, with 25% of the species from only two families, Asteraceae and Poaceae. The property demonstrates the characteristics of an early successional community, dominated by weedy species. Prairie communities are dominated by Johnson grass and ragweed, with climax tall grass prairie communities only in areas that have been planted with native grass seed. Forest communities are similarly in an early successional stage, dominated by the hackberry-elm-ash alliance, with small remnants of native Cross Timbers found in isolated patches. Species richness and diversity were highest in the forests and lowest in the wetlands; evenness, though not different across ecosystems, demonstrated a strong seasonal component. The species list was compared with previously reported lists for Denton County, and 256 species identified had not been previously reported for the county. A wetland restoration study was conducted to determine if there was a difference in survival and growth between potted transplants with intact root systems and bare-root transplants. Two different mesh sizes were used for protection, and the success of the different caging was evaluated. Of eight species, only four survived through the second growing season. There was no significant difference in the success of the propagule types for Sagittaria latifolia. The treatments planted with intact root systems showed significantly higher growth and reproduction than the bare-root treatments for Eleocharis quadrangulata, Heteranthera dubia, and Vallisneria americana. There was no survival recorded in the coarse mesh cages, likely due to the presence of crayfish that are able to get through the coarser mesh and feed on the transplants.

In 1906, C. W. Post, founder of the Postum Cereal Company, began implementing his plan for creating an agricultural colony in Garza County on the Southern High Plains of Texas. A central component of the colony was the town of Post, namesake of its creator. Through the Double U Company, C. W. Post laid out the town plat, built residences and business houses, a modern hospital, and the Postex Cotton Mill. Many buildings associated with the town’s origin survive alongside later buildings that reflect subsequent periods of Post’s development. This professional report relates the findings of a survey of Post, Texas utilizing field photography and historic research of primary and secondary sources to identify, document, and describe historic buildings. The report’s historic overview of the town supported assessment of building significance and analysis of field data yielded identification of building integrity. Assessment of the significance and integrity data found the town did still include properties possessing qualities that met requirements for inclusion on the National Register of Historic Places. Additionally, the information in the report may contribute to other local or regional heritage or preservation projects.<br>text

The Permian (Leonardian) aged Upper Spraberry Formation found in the Happy Field of Garza Co. TX, contains one of the best examples of a reservoir composed of resedimented carbonates in a deep-water slope-basin setting, with numerous whole core of wells with full suites of electric logs, high resolution 3D seismic coverage, and 20+ years worth of production data. Sequence stratrigraphic analysis from seismic data combined the lithologic analysis from outcrop analog, core, and well log data helps identify that the Happy Field is located within the transgressive systems tract of the fifth composite sequence in the Leonardian. The reservoir is composed of discrete allochthonous ooid and skeletal grains transported downslope via hyperconcentrated density flows sourced from a re-entrant in the shelf margin and deposited in a long-lived topographic depression at the toe-of-slope. Vertical heterogeneity due to layers of shaley silt punctuated by successive flows of oolitic and skeletal grains along with lateral heterogeneity created by younger flows of material create reservoir compartmentalization which can impede efficient development. Core-calibrated electric log correlations aids in the mapping of isolated compartments which helps with efficient development planning for the field.<br>text

In ways even beyond France’s Louis XIV, the Habsburgs projected themselves via music theater, including sacred works. The sepolcri took place in a highly ritualized series of events during Holy Week, including liturgy, processions, and reenactments of Passion events, across Vienna as well as in the court chapels. Their origin can be linked to a wider Italian tradition of Passion theater, including deposition drama and laments over the dead Christ. Pieces were staged on both Holy Thursday and Good Friday, while normally new works were created each year for each day. In Viennese performances, both the architectonic conditions of the chapels, plus Ludovico Burnacini’s set designs (traceable from about 1670 onward) contributed to the perception of texts and the production of meaning. In this, the staged emblematics present in image and text also contributed to penance and recollection. The chapter closes with a consideration of a sepolcro, La Gara della Misericordia e la Giustizia, which reworks the medieval trope of the “contest between divine mercy and justice” in a way that would have had special resonance for its primary audience, the dowager empress, in whose chapel it was performed on Holy Thursday 1661.