All posts by Bill Porterfield
On today’s ranches, some cowboys still survive—if they don’t get tired of roping cattle.
In today‘s tame, tame West, the cowboy seldom rides a horse and never carries a gun, but the cattle business is bigger than ever.
Like they said, you can’t take it with you.
The strange legacy of the world’s richest man.
The brawling, rags-to-riches wildcatter is gone, a victim of legislation and Big Oil. But a new and more sober generation has the same gleam in its eye.
Of doodlebugs, boll weevils, rockhounds, and wildcatters.
I see Ross Perot as a throwback, a distinct cousin to two types of 19th century mythical American heroes. In his deeds, Perot is as gargantuan—as wonderful and awful and ridiculous—as Davy Crockett. In his idealisms, Perot would fashion himself, and the rest of us, after one of the proper and patriotic boy heroes dreamed […]
Texas was the end of the line for Sam Houston, an adventurer with boundless energies, deep depressions, and a mysterious past, the sort of man who could have faced down LBJ.
A good woman finally marries the wild frontier man and saves him from himself. Manifestly destiny.
The land that made him takes him back, and many of the goodbyes aren't said at the funeral.
Some last words, reverent and irreverent, like Lyndon himself.