Prayers, Patriots, and The Patriot Act: The Last Stand at The Hampton Inn
Ghosts and Goliaths haunt the Hill Country as CD 21 candidates sharpen their blades for the final primary showdown.
The fluorescent lights of the Hampton Inn event center hummed with a low-voltage anxiety as I carved my way through a standing-room-only crowd. I’d made it in just ten minutes before the spectacle ignited, claiming my saved seat in the front row center—the perfect vantage point to see the polished delivery of a field that’s finally found its rhythm. The room was packed to the gills, a sea of faces illuminated by the harsh white glow of civic duty.
This was the final big stage before the primary, and while I live in Gillespie, being here in Comal felt like looking in a mirror. We’re all Hill Country folk, sharing the same dirt and the same deep-seated suspicion of anyone wearing ironed jeans and boots that are just a little too clean.
Steadily, the room fell into a ritualistic hush as the evening opened with a heavy-hitting prayer. The speaker thanked the Almighty for the "freedom and liberty" found in our founding documents and for a "peaceful open forum without disruption and violence."
Then came the scriptural hammer: Exodus 18:21, Proverbs 29:2, and Titus 1. They were calling for "capable men who fear God and hate dishonest gain." I sat there watching the local fervor, knowing full well that whether you’re in Fredericksburg or New Braunfels, the values—and the prayers—hit the same chord.
In the hunt for the CD 21 seat, the field of twelve is finally hitting its stride, but the herd was incomplete. Mark Teixeira continues to bet on the race with his own massive pile of cash while staying invisible, and the missing woman in the race, Heather Tessmer, seems to simply be... missing. But for the seven who showed up, the talk was as sharp as a fresh-cut cedar post.
Anita Valdez, the local GOP chair, brought the room together with a story of resilience following the recent arson attack at the headquarters. She revealed that the suspect was a now-former employee of Remedy Roofing. In a move that defined the evening’s spirit of integrity, the owner of Remedy Roofing reached out immediately, sickened by the act, and offered to pay for all the damages out of his own pocket. Anita told the crowd she turned down the money—they have insurance—but she urged everyone to support Remedy Roofing for their character. It was a silver lining that turned a "horrible event" into a testament to local business values.
Stephen Rollins brought the weight of a life in service to the stage. He’s a Navy retiree who went on to work for the Department of State, and he’s clearly tired of the games. He’s been training for this job by meeting with the local experts—lawyers, geologists, and conservationists—to tackle the infrastructure and resource exhaustion that’s killing our emergency services. He’s the guy who wants to kill off taxpayer-funded lobbyists, and in a room like this, that kind of talk makes you an immediate friend.
Unexpectedly, the mood shifted when the topic turned to H-1B visas. Paul Rojas, who holds a degree in physics, a Master’s in software engineering, and a MBA from UT, who worked in Big Tech in cybersecurity as well as at Microsoft, and in space exploration charged that 7 out of 10 H-1B visas hold fake degrees. He is completely opposed.
Weston Martinez appeared to be answering a different question. He said he would file legislation to prevent anchor baby citizenship and said Omar Ilhan should be deported. Not that we don’t all agree on her.
Mike Wheeler suggested we should phase out the visas. Seems like a sharp end is more in line.
Maybe Daniel Betts wasn’t listening to Rojas’ response, because he actually had the stones to tell a room full of Hill Country conservatives that ending H-1B visas would make our "economy collapse.” I guess Indians with fake degrees are essential. He claimed we don't have the "capacity" in our universities to replace these foreign workers yet. It was a stunning display of "nuance" in a room that wanted a sledgehammer. Betts might be a criminal defense attorney, but defending the tech, engineering and medical industries’ reliance on foreign labor in front of people who want "America First" is a trial he might not win. At least he was honest.
The rest of the stage didn't give him an inch. Kyle Sinclair, the healthcare executive, argued that the real cancer eating the country is a broken medical system that nobody understands, yet everyone pays for. Mike Wheeler reminded the room that he’s been in the trenches fighting green energy transmission lines in our backyards, while Paul Rojas, the engineer and firearms manufacturer, made the case for replacing bureaucrats with people who actually know how to build things.
Then you had Weston Martinez, the “water expert”, calling out the "carpetbaggers" and reminding everyone he’s been bloodying his knuckles for Texas values since the Joe Strauss days.
Trey Trainor, the only candidate who has been to Washington, in both Trump administrations, didn't mince words either, hitting the crowd with the "three boxes of liberty"—the ballot, the jury, and the cartridge box. He warned that all three are under siege and pivoted hard to the "Islamification" of the country, arguing that a Sharia-adherent influence is a direct threat to a Constitution that presupposes a Christian moral people.
Finally, things took a surreal turn when Jason Cahill, Mr. CIA, addressed the same issue. With his intelligence background and a voice of absolute certainty, Cahill proposed a solution that nearly sucked the air out of the room. He suggested using the Patriot Act—that post-9/11 legislative monster—to target "known entities" and "get it, and then we can get rid of it." It was a dizzying moment for anyone who remembers that the Act was sold as a shield against foreign terror but has been used against actual patriots for twenty years. Cahill seemed to feel the weight of his own words; he quickly added that the law should be removed after his suggested use. It was a classic "the ends justify the means" pivot that left the room wondering if we're just trading one set of handcuffs for another.
By the time the night ended, my head was spinning from the talk of "reciprocal tariffs" and "judicial tyranny." Everyone’s a "proven conservative" in the Hampton Inn, but only a few had the stones to show up and prove it to the folks who actually live here.
While the Congressional circus got the headlines, the race for Comal County Judge might be the most critical for your daily life. Most folks get confused here—a County Judge isn't a robed figure sentencing criminals; they are the CEO of the county. They run the Commissioners Court, manage the multi-million dollar budget, and—critically—serve as the Director of Emergency Management.
Enter Kayne Parrish. He’s a 14-year firefighter who’s looking to trade the firehouse for the position of county judge. Some might ask what a guy with a fire axe knows about county government, but in Texas, a firefighter is a perfect fit. When the Hill Country catches fire or the Guadalupe floods, the County Judge is the one signing the disaster declarations and coordinating the front lines. He can call for evacuations. During the July 4 Hill Country flooding, we had AWOL county judges. As a firefighter, Parrish knows what it’s like to keep a radio next to the bed. Parrish argued that our county is "on fire" and we "don't have the water to put it out"—a stark metaphor for the infrastructure and water security issues plaguing our growth. A man who makes life-and-death decisions under a helmet might be exactly who we need holding the gavel when the next crisis hits.
Standing in his path is Kristen Hoyt, the current Tax Assessor-Collector. If Parrish is the outsider coming in to fight the flames, Hoyt is the administrative surgeon already holding the scalpel. She took to the stage with the calculated poise of a veteran insider, pointing to her five-year record of "conservative stewardship" where she modernized systems and returned over a million bucks to Comal County. She’s positioning herself as the steady, "proven" choice—someone who has already met with every commissioner and knows exactly which bureaucratic levers to pull. Hoyt made it clear she’s the one ready to defend Comal’s land and water from predatory development, specifically calling out high-impact data centers that drain our aquifers and strain our infrastructure while giving very little back to the local taxpayer.
It’s the classic Hill Country choice: do you want the man who never leaves his radio’s side, or the woman who knows where every single cent is buried?
Blended they make the perfect county judges. If Kristen won, she could bring on Kayne as her emergency planner. If he won, he could bring her on as an advisor to stop data centers.
Early voting starts February 17. Election Day is March 3. God help us all, because the field is ready, the ghosts are hiding, and the Hill Country is about to decide who’s left standing.