Posted: Wednesday, December 11, 2013 4:30 am
Jacob Brooks | Herald staff writer
The year was 1995. An Army buddy and I were on our way back to the barracks of Fort Hood after a weekend of partying in Austin.
We were traveling on the usual route —Texas Highway 195 — approaching Killeen, when my buddy pointed to a hill.
“When I die, I want to be buried on top of that hill,” he said, half serious.