Dr. Victor Viser

The night sky of Galveston is the brother to its sister sea, and it’s a relationship our continental city friends sacrifice by living with s

Galvestonians who call this place home, by birth or choice, view their island as a refuge. To them, it’s not so much a plot of silty sand elevating from the bed of the Gulf of Mexico but a floating galleon of rebel life protected from life’s musket balls by the waters insulating it from the mainland establishment. We know that the pretty painted pillars of aquatic scenery flanking the causeway are chiefly there for tourists. If it were up to some of us, we would just as soon raise a flag...

Some time ago I was pursuing through a small Galveston yard sale when I spied a box of dusty old news magazines. As reader of history, I snatched up the box for a buck and took it home. There, buried beneath the World War II editions of Life and the Saturday Evening Post, the unusual title of another magazine jumped out at me – The Woman’s Viewpoint, March 1925. The cover was resplendent with an illustrated crowned beauty reposed in a mammoth Galveston whelk shell, a sprig of oleander...