We deal you a card of Waco’s public art. Go find them, and tap a square when you’re standing in front of the real thing.
Your card stays on your phone. We count that somebody opened this page. That’s all we count β not what you found, not where you stood, not how long it took you. There’s no account, no sign-up and no email box. If you clear your browser the card goes with it, so write the code down if it matters to you. → Privacy
There are ten places in Waco that we will never turn into a game square.
This Is Bear County draws Waco’s twentieth century in pencil-grey across a whole city block, and carries the May 1953 newspaper headline along the top. The final count from that tornado was 114 people.
Water on the Thirsty Land runs a river the entire length of a wall, with trees from all over the world growing out of it β a promise, painted brick by brick.
La Dignidad β The Dignity β is sixty feet of Hispanic Texas in three panels by JesΓΊs Rivera, painted with modelled faces and real shadows, closer to an oil painting than a spray can.
Heart to Heart was painted in 1990 by an American artist, a Soviet artist and a Russian cosmonaut, standing together on a Waco parking lot β one year before the Soviet Union ceased to exist.
Metamorphosis belongs to Jesus Said Love and to the women they walk out of exploitation. Read it left to right and you can watch a woman become herself, like a sentence finishing.
Justice in a Garden keeps a light on for Dr. King on the side of a small law office on North 25th, with the line he wrote from a Birmingham jail in 1963.
The Sailor at the Bow is the Doris Miller Memorial on the east bank of the Brazos: two long walls shaped like a ship’s hull, a steel sculpture carrying one piece for each of the 2,403 people killed at Pearl Harbor, and a nine-foot bronze of the Waco man who went toward the guns.
The Dream, Painted on a Bridge Pier wraps Dr. King around a surviving pier of the old Interurban railway bridge β the March on Washington, a jail cell, a lectern, a headstone. Ira Watkins painted it in 2005, and came back from California to repaint it by hand after somebody defaced it in 2017.
Holy Deliverance is a cross, an open Bible and a descending dove on the side of a small East Waco church, all three of them weathering quietly back into the wall. Nobody signed them. They were never made for us.
Freedom, in Every Language is the fountain on the Convention Center lawn, dedicated in May 1973 for twelve Waco citizens who had flown to Paris two years earlier to argue for American prisoners of war. Two of the men they argued for stood here at the dedication. A Ring of Freedom circles the pool, carrying the same word over and over in the languages of the world.
A scavenger hunt is a wonderful way to meet a city. It is the wrong way to walk up to a memorial. So these ten aren’t squares to tick β they’re an invitation. Go and stand in front of them anyway. Go slowly, and read the whole wall. They are the best ten things on the trail.
This Is Bear County Β· Water on the Thirsty Land Β· La Dignidad Β· Heart to Heart Β· Metamorphosis Β· Justice in a Garden