Over the next two centuries, animals escaped, were traded, or were simply turned loose, and the ones that survived went wild on the grass. They spread north across the plains and became something the Spanish already had a word for — mesteño, roughly a horse belonging to the stockmen, a horse with no owner but the range. English wore the word down to mustang. By the 1800s they were the great curiosity of the Texas prairies: smaller and tougher than anything the settlers brought from the east, able to work all day on thin grass and bad water, which is exactly why every cattle range in Texas ended up running them.
The field next door has a story of its own. Hensley had been an army airfield since the 1920s, on land the city of Dallas bought and leased to the Army in 1928. In May 1941 the Navy commissioned a reserve aviation base on part of it, and somebody looked at the map, counted the hundreds of miles of dry country between that runway and the nearest ocean, and started calling it the Prairie Navy. The name stuck. What came through it is the strange part: fleet pilots and Marines, Coast Guard, the WAVES — the women who enlisted for emergency service and kept the place running — a contingent of Free French forces a long way from France, and three men who would later leave the atmosphere entirely. By the end of the war the field held 4,104 people.
Why People Visit Grand Prairie, Texas
People come for the central Metroplex location and the mix of prairie, lakes, and live racing — and stay curious about an aviation heritage most visitors never expect from a city between Dallas and Fort Worth. It is flat, friendly, and in the middle of everything, with a long horizon and a longer memory than its suburbs suggest.
