There is something deeply moving about the way a ship can represent the character of a place and its people. No ship is laden with memory as the Battleship Texas. She is not simply steel and rivets—she is grit, ingenuity, and a people’s determination to make history come alive. Her story is not only war and cannon; it’s also about the men who worked her and those people who wouldn’t let her past be erased.
Finished in 1914, Texas was the pride of the U.S. Navy, boasting ten 14-inch guns that could strike targets 12 miles away. The first U.S. dreadnought to carry an airplane, she is the only one of her class still afloat after fighting in both World Wars. Presidents, champions, and thousands of sailors from every region of the nation have stepped upon her decks.
She remained with the British Grand Fleet in the North Sea during World War I and then endured some of the most perilous campaigns of World War Two. From North Africa to Normandy, from Southern France to Iwo Jima and Okinawa, the vessel and crew were pushed to the limit time and again. Miraculously, only one of the sailors aboard was lost to the enemy—a fact often used as proof of both her durability and the devotion of the men who served in her.
In 1948, decommissioned, Texas began a new life as the nation’s first battleship museum. Moored on the San Jacinto Battleground, she became a living memorial. But years of weathering and neglect slowly took their toll. Leaks were bursting all the time, and pumps ran night and day just to keep her afloat. She was taking in thousands of gallons of water per minute at her worst. The warship that had stood storms and battle now had a quieter but no less lethal fight on its hands with the elements.
But the courage that had seen her through combat now appeared to translate to those who were committed to saving her. Naval historians, welders, engineers, and volunteers all stepped forward. Guys like David, who spent long days repairing fittings and gun mounts, described the work as something more than just a job—it was a chance to be involved in something good, a way of paying back to history itself.
The restoration was a monumental endeavor. Hundreds of tons of steel were replaced. Her WWII Measure 21 camouflage paint scheme was returned to its original. Years of deterioration were painstakingly restored. In all, more than 300,000 hours of hand labor and $75 million went into bringing her back from the edge.
For those who clomped her decks during the work, it was an almost ghostly experience. It was as if one stepped into a frozen moment of history, as if history were solid and to be reached out and touched. Even battered and bruised as she was, Texas inspired respect, and the camaraderie of her caretakers spoke for the solidarity that had driven her crew through war.
Of course, saving her wasn’t without controversy. Bitter disputes followed on where she would at last be berthed. Galveston, Baytown, and Beaumont all wanted her in their custody, each wishing to be the guardian of her future.
In the end, it never had anything to do with arguments, but with a mission: protecting her and sharing her story with the masses. With her new home at Pier 15 in Galveston, Texas, begins not the final chapter, but rather a new one—a new opportunity for people of all kinds to step aboard and experience her legacy.
It’s not only her war history or engineering that built and rebuilt he, which makes Battleship Texas unique. It’s resilience, people’s solidarity, and respect for memory she commands. As one preservationist said, there is no other site where you can put your hands on a ship that participated in both world wars. She is not only a state treasure—she is proof of what people can accomplish when they come together for something greater than themselves.
More than a ship, the Texas is a beat of shared heritage. Her survival is proof that history’s not in books—it lasts in what we can’t help but let slip away. And thanks to the time, talent, and hearts of those who gave so generously, generations yet to come will read of her certainly, but they’ll stroll upon her decks, stare out her bow, and feel the caress of history beneath their feet.