Robert Draper was a staff writer at Texas Monthly from 1991 until 1997. He is now a contributing writer at the New York Times magazine and National Geographic as well as a correspondent for GQ magazine. Draper is the author of several works of fiction and nonfiction, including the New York Times best-sellers Dead Certain: The Presidency of George W. Bush and Do Not Ask What Good We Do: Inside the U.S. House of Representatives. A native Houstonian, he now resides in Washington D.C.
How tough should our response to juvenile crime be? No less tough than it is now—but no tougher either.
After nearly fifty years of working Matagorda Bay, Vernon Bates could soon watch his business shut down for good—and so could the thousands of other shrimpers who make their living on the Gulf Coast.
It was strange enough that I returned to my hated Houston high school after twenty years—but stranger still, I enjoyed it.
For years the dusty outpost of Terlingua has been a magnet for renegades and loners looking for a haven from the modern world. No wonder the brother of the suspected Unabomber holed up there.
Something stinks in the Department of Criminal Justice, and it’s a lot more than VitaPro. A special report on the worst state scandal in decades.
The shocking and sad story of the East Texas kids who beat a horse to death just for the thrill of it.
Oilers owner Bud Adams is hightailing it to Nashville; Drayton McLane may move the Astros too—or sell. In Houston and across the country, rooting for the home team is quickly becoming a thing of the past.
In the bloddy billion-dollor business of drug trafficking, Amado Carrillo Fuentes is king. He is the elusive ringleader of a smuggling operation that police on both sides of the border are powerless to stop.
His life was as short and sweet as his songs, but who was the Lubbock rocker whose influence over popular music will not fade away?
An Austin attorney tears into the government’s case against a suspect in the Oklahoma City bombing.
When Grover Lewis died on April 16, he left a legacy of unwashed greatness. That’s how he would have wanted it.