BC "Big Chopper" parked his bike and slowly unfolded his big frame from the seat. He stretched, yawned and turned toward the buildings that make up Fort Travis State Park. BC was in Galveston to attend the motorcycle rally and had felt an inner urge to take the ferry over to Bolivar Peninsula and do a little sightseeing. It had been a long ride in from Oklahoma and this was his first visit to the Texas Coast but for some strange reason he felt totally at home here – almost a sense of deja vue.
The view of the sunset from the ferry had been incredible and now he was enjoying the night as the light from the full moon bounced and skipped over the waters. BC leaned against the stonewall of the former garrison and scanned the horizon and, at that moment, felt more connected with his ancestry than ever in his life.
The "BC" on his vest seemed to glow in the moonlight and he realized that he had gone by "BC" for so long that none of his friends even knew his full name. He wasn't ashamed of it but he had always wondered how he got stuck with a name that all the other kids in grade school like to poke fun at – "Beauregard Clayton".