Dana Rubin

Stories

What I Learned in The Bubble

Until I house-sat there last year, I thought I knew rarefied Highland Park. To my surprise, it was much more fragile and defensive than it had seemed.

Bob Crandall Flies Off the Handle

The boss of American Airlines is mad as hell at cut-rate competitors, selfish unions, and ignorant government regulators—and he’s not going to take it anymore.

The Lake No One Knows

From longtime locals to environmentalists, everyone has an opinion about the future of Caddo Lake—but the issues they’re debating are as murky as the lake itself.

The Texas 100: Money Becomes Electra

As a bitter family feud drags on, Electra Waggoner Biggs if fighting to keep her fortune—and her ranch—intact.

To Ellum and Back

The face of Dallas’ most eclectic neighborhood changes every day, but its appeal remains familiar—and it keeps getting stronger.

Holy Trinity

Three Spanish missions are El Paso’s own heaven on earth.

Alone With a Ghost

Carol Collins thought her ex-husband had been killed in Vietnam—until a mysterious photograph reopened old wounds and threw her life into turmoil.

The Real Education of Little Tree

An Alabama Klansman posing as a folksy Texas novelist almost pulled off the literary hoax of the century.

The Rise and Fall (and Rise and Fall) of Marcy Rogers

When her charitable foundation collapsed amid allegations of mismanagement, the Dallas socialite did the unthinkable: She started a new one.

The Ghosts of the Freedmen

Dallas is a city that has prided itself on having escaped the hostility of the civil rights years—until now.

Calm After The Storm

Stormie Jones’s historic transplant gave her four and a half good years. But at what cost?

God’s Jeweler

Piery or passion: the trials of James Avery, craftsman.

Power Switch

Are customers of the Comanche Peak nuclear plant better off with safety advocate Juanita Ellis on the inside or the outside?

A Soldier’s Secret

In the farming town of Whitewright, stolen tenth-century illuminated manuscripts and ivory reliquaries weren’t all that Joe Meador had to hide.

The All-American Crooks

Football players at Dallas’ Carter High had it all: god futures, a state championship, and the feeling that they could do no wrong. The trouble was, their favorite hobbies were guns and holdups.

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