
Some ships are more than just their steel and rivets. They are vessels carrying memory, pride, and the spirit of the people who do not let them get lost in time. Not many ships could be compared to the Battleship Texas in that respect. She is no longer a relic left in the past; rather, she is a living symbol of the community’s persistence, ingenuity, and resolve to keep her story going. The heritage of Texas is also about the sailors among the crew and the people who would not let her go.

Built in 1914, the Texas was representative of the peak of America’s Naval power. Besides the ten powerful 14-inch guns that were able to hit a target more than twelve miles away, she had all the modern advantages of the time in naval warfare.

However, the ship was not all about her firepower—she set a precedent as the first American battleship to carry an aircraft in an actual battle and remains the only dreadnought that has been involved in both world wars. Through the years, her decks had the great honor of welcoming presidents, sportspeople, and numerous sailors from every region of the country.

Her service was immensely valuable. During the Great War, she was present with the British Grand Fleet in the North Sea. In the Second World War, she was at the heart of the most important war efforts—North Africa, Normandy, Southern France, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa. Even though she was in close-quarter fights, she had only one member of her crew shot dead by the enemy, a testimony to her toughness and her crew’s commitment.

As a result, she was given the first battleship museum of the United States, the San Jacinto Battleground, where she was permanently docked after her retirement in 1948. She remained a great sight for locals and tourists for many years, but she gradually got into trouble. The constant leaks made it necessary for the pumps to be on a 24-hour call; thus, they were taking out thousands of gallons of water each day. What rust and decay that had stripped off from the ships and had even taken away parts were now starting to destroy the ship.

Nevertheless, Texas was not only hers, and she still had her guardian, as earlier in her days at sea. Volunteers, welders, engineers, and historians all pitched in for her. Not only did they contribute their know-how, but they also contributed their hearts. One volunteer, David, was dedicating hours to mounting the guns and doing the replacement of the fittings. He portrayed it as “a heartfelt kind of labor,” an opportunity to be involved with something much bigger than oneself.

It took a lot of effort to keep the battleship afloat. It was necessary to replace hundreds of tons of steel, rewind the paint of her WWII camouflage diligently, and reverse the harm of the years. The rehabilitation process required more than 300,000 labor hours and $75 million in total. During the restoration, a walk across her decks was like experiencing history all over again—moments of history re-enacted through the work of those committed to preserving the ship.

People in the community talked about her final destination; they had to choose whether Texas is going to be in Galveston, Beaumont, or Port Beaumont. Galveston, Baytown, and Beaumont each made vigorous efforts to have the ship in their cities because they knew how important it was for the local community.

Finally, her future went beyond being a stored ship but rather a part of the history that one can see while being alive. From being g her new place in Galveston, it is no longer a resting place but an open invitation for visitors to see her from the same angle as she did, check out her guns, and most importantly, feel the presence of history underneath their feet.

Not just the fighting record or the incredible restoration of the ship is what makes Battleship Texas remarkable, but also it is the love of the people who kept it alive. One of the supporters said that there is no other place in the state where you can put your hands on a ship that fought in both world wars. Texas is a reminder of what people can do when they stand together behind something worthy of being saved.

Texas is no longer a ship; she is a shared history that floats on water. Her survival serves as proof that history is not only in books, but also it is there in the things we can still touch, walk on, and remember together. As a result of those who sacrificed their time, energy, and love for her conservation, the future generations will not only read about the Battleship Texas, but they will also be standing on her decks, looking over her bow, and feeling the pulse of history in the steel under their feet.
