Our Host and Guide - Rich Curilla

My teen eyes were glued to the television on Monday, November 14, 1960, for ABC-TV's "SPIRIT OF THE ALAMO" on the Pontiac Star Parade. This show marked the first time a television promotion was done for a movie and the first time a show was ever videotaped out on location. It also marked the first time I ever laid eyes on Happy Shahan.
After I saw John Wayne's "THE ALAMO" thirteen times in as many weeks, my dad and mom said "Let's take him down there and get it out of his system." That's when I met Happy and Virginia Shahan -- on June 16, 1961. It was like stepping into my fantasy. They owned and operated my fantasyland. Over the next four years, I corresponded with Happy. I believe he was fascinated with a kid who could asked him why his Alamo faced the wrong direction, and I know I was fascinated with a man who owned 35 square miles of Texas -- and had run with John Wayne.
Many Alamo Village alums thought of the Shahans almost as parents. That is not true for me. My own father and mother had always been such strong and loving images in my life that I never had to seek out "surrogate" parents. No, Happy and Virginia Shahan, to me, served the role of close friends, guiding mentors and unique personalities. As I grew older in a world that was growing too much "the same" (read: McDonalds, Hard Rock Cafe, shopping malls... ), I particularly valued the Shahans' uniqueness. Texas author and folklorist J. Frank Dobie had an expression that fit them perfectly: "Out of the old rock." These were the pair that WERE Alamo Village -- a place as unique as its creators.
The village itself has been both my retreat and the place from which I retreat. Nothing is ever completely perfect, and Alamo Village has
always had its share of thorns. But mostly, I think of the village as my Fantasyland. I went there as a teenager and did much growing up during
my five summers in the sixties. When others were doing drugs, I was doing Alamo Village.
As I developed as a filmmaker in Pennsylvania throughout the seventies, I always had dreams of shooting westerns and Alamo movies at Alamo Village.In 1983, I moved to Dallas to start producing movies, and finally in 1988, I moved to Brackettville and went to work for Happy again -- this
time to make movies. We had talked since 1972 about making our own westerns. Now it was time.
Others came and went, but I stayed. Finally, in 1992, Happy and I produced "TRAVIS SMITH," our first western. In his words, "You called my
bluff." - RICH CURILLA
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Happy passed in 1996. The responsibility of Alamo Village fell to that of his widow, Virginia, who passed in 2009.
Though Alamo Village is now closed, Rich is still heavily involved in maintaining the property.
NEXT PAGE
After I saw John Wayne's "THE ALAMO" thirteen times in as many weeks, my dad and mom said "Let's take him down there and get it out of his system." That's when I met Happy and Virginia Shahan -- on June 16, 1961. It was like stepping into my fantasy. They owned and operated my fantasyland. Over the next four years, I corresponded with Happy. I believe he was fascinated with a kid who could asked him why his Alamo faced the wrong direction, and I know I was fascinated with a man who owned 35 square miles of Texas -- and had run with John Wayne.
Many Alamo Village alums thought of the Shahans almost as parents. That is not true for me. My own father and mother had always been such strong and loving images in my life that I never had to seek out "surrogate" parents. No, Happy and Virginia Shahan, to me, served the role of close friends, guiding mentors and unique personalities. As I grew older in a world that was growing too much "the same" (read: McDonalds, Hard Rock Cafe, shopping malls... ), I particularly valued the Shahans' uniqueness. Texas author and folklorist J. Frank Dobie had an expression that fit them perfectly: "Out of the old rock." These were the pair that WERE Alamo Village -- a place as unique as its creators.
The village itself has been both my retreat and the place from which I retreat. Nothing is ever completely perfect, and Alamo Village has
always had its share of thorns. But mostly, I think of the village as my Fantasyland. I went there as a teenager and did much growing up during
my five summers in the sixties. When others were doing drugs, I was doing Alamo Village.
As I developed as a filmmaker in Pennsylvania throughout the seventies, I always had dreams of shooting westerns and Alamo movies at Alamo Village.In 1983, I moved to Dallas to start producing movies, and finally in 1988, I moved to Brackettville and went to work for Happy again -- this
time to make movies. We had talked since 1972 about making our own westerns. Now it was time.
Others came and went, but I stayed. Finally, in 1992, Happy and I produced "TRAVIS SMITH," our first western. In his words, "You called my
bluff." - RICH CURILLA
------------------------------------------------------------------
Happy passed in 1996. The responsibility of Alamo Village fell to that of his widow, Virginia, who passed in 2009.
Though Alamo Village is now closed, Rich is still heavily involved in maintaining the property.
NEXT PAGE