The Slave Shack & the RV Park

I'll start off with the phrase that I told Christie at the end of our day today- "If the words 'Palestine' or 'Jacksonville' come out of my mouth in reference to a possible wedding venue ever again-- just slap the shit out of me."

We left the Dallas area at around 8 this morning, loading up on coffee, diet coke, and wedding magazines for the 2.5 hour trip to Palestine. About halfway there, we stopped for gas in a little town called Gun Barrel City, Texas. This town is about as redneck as you get in East Texas (which is pretty darn redneck), and the gas station there was no exception. The windows were covered with black, rusted bars and an unlocked chain was wrapped around the front door. Before we went in, we noticed another customer driving up and getting out of his pickup truck. His arms and torso were covered in tatoos, including several swastikas. Christie & I were both rather unnerved. We filled up the tank, took a quick bathroom break, and headed out of Gun Barrel City as fast as we could. We should have known this was a bad sign.

When I plugged the address to the first location into my GPS, the road didn't show up on the map. Thinking that at least we could get to Palestine without resorting to the printed directions, I manually chose a road that was one number different than the address on the venue's website. As we finally got close to Palestine, we realized that the printed directions were telling us to take roads that didn't even exist, and relied solely on the GPS with the "wrong" address.

As we neared the mis-numbered An Country Road, we didn't see another car for 10 miles. The pine trees surrounded the road in clusters, blocking out the sunlight. Approaching yet another empty cross-section, I got ready to turn the car around and head back to civilization (and to someone who might know where the heck the venue was located). As I rolled to a stop, however, I noticed that the area ahead was clear, and several wooden structures were constructed in the pasture beyond.

Anxiously I realized we had made it-- this was it. There was no mistaking it; a small wooden sign proclaimed this as the beautiful, large venue from the website pictures I'd been drooling over. This small cluster of wooden shacks was the venue I'd had such high hopes for. Before I got too discouraged, we drove up the gravel driveway and into a small parking area.

Slowly opening the doors of the car, Christie and I walked up to the smallest of the wooden structures labeled "Office". In the garden beside the office was an old fashioned, empty bathtub, and on the porch was the biggest, nastiest dead deer fly I'd ever seen. Stepping gingerly over the massive bug (and waving quite a few live ones away at the same time), I peered into the office. There was no one there. Maybe we could just sneak away before anyone even noticed we were here...

But, no. The owner of the establishment came hustling up to the front, wiping her hands on her pants since she'd obviously just come in from the garden. We did introductions and I tried my best to keep a smile plastered on my face despite my broken illusions. At first I couldn't believe we were actually in the right place. After the first shock wore off, though, I could somewhat make out the structures from the website- they were just infinitely smaller and dirtier and older than they had looked in the pictures. And the pictures had left out some of the shabbier shacks and decorations.

We started our tour through the venue, beginning at the bride & groom dressing rooms. It was hotter than hell inside both of them since there was no centralized heating or cooling. Both were built in the 1800's and didn't look like a penny had been spent on improvements since the day they were erected.

Next, we viewed the ceremony area. This area was pretty, but small and rustic, and surrounded by deteriorating buildings. We headed to the reception area after that, which turned out to be a large barn separated into two sections. My clothes were sticking to me like wet rags after just a five minute tour through this area, and the old, scarred wood looked more shabby than charming.

We thought the tour must be over and we could politely leave without having to endure more of the sweltering buildings and hordes of insects. But, no. First, we had to see the area where the bride, groom, & family could spend the night. The first area consisted of a tiny shack with three conjoined rooms. Two of the rooms included beds, and the third had a small bathroom that could have come straight out of the pioneer days. Next door to this shack, was another that was its mirror image. The owner of the location eagerly told us that FOUR couples could stay in these two shacks-- both of which combined were no larger than an average sized living room!

Our last stop was the slave shack. It was literally a shack that had housed slaves hundreds of years ago. And this was the building that the bride & groom could stay in-- how romantic! It was the size of an average bathroom, had tin sheet walls, and no central air or heat. Definitely the way I'd like to spend my wedding night!

After our tour, Christie & I politely made noises suggesting we might be in touch, got out the GPS, and headed away as fast as we could. The next location was in Jacksonville, about 30 minutes away. We didn't have an appointment at this one, but I decided to go scope it out anyways to decide whether it would be worth another look later in the week.

We weren't sure how far down the road it was, since the GPS couldn't seem to locate its particular address. We drove through the small, rustic outskirts of Jacksonville, looking for a sign with an address so we could get our bearings. In the midst of chatting about wedding plans, I saw a big rock with a tiny sign on the side of the road, next to an RV park. I glanced at it without much interest until something about it caught my eye. Was that a rough sketch of a castle on that sign? No, no, no it couldn't be. My next dream location couldn't, just COULDN'T be located next to an RV park.

But, alas, it was. I couldn't stop in enough time to turn into the driveway toward the location, so I did a U-turn in front of a cemetery and turned back around. My heart was already in my stomach as we turned down the gravel road. The RV park was on the same stretch of land as the wedding venue, separated by a see-through tan divider that barely masked the shape of the RVs behind it. The "castle" at the end of the drive was certainly located on a lake like the ad described, but the website conveniently left out the fact that bordering this lake (and in plain view of the ceremony site) were 5 or 6 redneck hovels, complete with trash and rusted out boats. Needless to say, we decided not to drive back up to Jacksonville for a tour of the site.

On the way back, Christie and I stopped in Tyler for lunch. The trip was overall an amusing disappointment that leaves us still searching for the perfect wedding venue...