Oscar Cásares

Stories

All the Pretty Ponies

Growing up at Charro Days.

My Name Is Cásares

And the story of how I started spelling it that way (with the accent) begins with a kidnapping.

Hecho en Brownsville

The grand opening of a new H-E-B in McAllen drew crowds—including several who showed up to hear a native son read from his collection of locally set short stories.

Home Run

A jogging path along the Rio Grande was a treasured, secret place—until it became part of the front lines in a war I still don’t understand.

Living With the Border Fence

The border fence cuts through a Valley farmer’s property, upending his family’s life.

Imaginary Friends

Brownsville’s first federal judge was a legendary figure in my house. So legendary that I never believed my father when he said he knew the man.

The Departed

They say you can’t go home again—especially when pretty much your entire family has moved away.

Therapy Room

An exclusive excerpt from writer-at-large Oscar Casares’s forthcoming first novel, Amigoland

Indivisible Man

Was January 20 really the dawn of a new and more inclusive age?

Grass Roots

My father was passionate about lawn care. Me? Not so much.

The Waiting Game

I was a server at Pappasito’s for a week. It felt like a lifetime.

Ready For Some Futbol?

Race and racism at the state soccer championship.

Pet Project

My dog, Flaco, sleeps on a bed from Pottery Barn, gets three walks a day, and very nearly had his teeth cleaned for the princely sum of $208. What would my father say?

Christmas in Brownsville

My father, who had grown up on a farm, used to talk about his family’s killing a pig for the tamales, but this was back in the twenties.

Tall In the Saddle

My father’s not-so-brief, happy career on horseback.

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