When JR Nicholson, a rancher from Mason County,* started feeling dizzy, he told his ranch hand he wanted to go to the hospital. Little did the 85-year-old know that what turned out to be a minor visit to the ER would evolve into an absolutely heartwarming tale of pet loyalty for the ages.
- Identical twin sisters from Houston bought identical Sears Craftsman housesright next door to each otherin Galveston.
- After getting plunked by a pitcher, a man in a pickup baseball game near Elsa shot and wounded one of the opposing players.
- An Austin girl who was kidnapped by her mother and taken to Mexico was reunited with her father twelve years after her abduction.
- The SAT math scores of the state’s high school students hit a 22-year low.
Q: I read your response to “Displaced Derek in Portland” in the July issue with interest. You see, I recently made my own return to the blessed land following twenty years in exile among the tree-hugging set. During my hiatus, much has changed: Bonfire has been tamed, microbrews are rampant, and I seem to have less endurance now than in my youth along the Brazos. What should be on my bucket list so that I can reconnect with Texas in the time that remains to me
Our August 2013 cover, featuring a noted pair of pink tennis shoes and a stately trio of Democrats, posed a question that had long been percolating in political circles: Did anyone have what it took to turn Texas blue?
This academic year, the University of Texas at El Paso is celebrating its centennial, and Diana Natalicio, the school’s president, is marking her twenty-sixth anniversary in the school’s top job. That’s a remarkably long tenure, but even more remarkable are the changes UTEP has undergone during her administration. In 1988 the school offered one doctoral program; today it has twenty. In 1988 annual research expenditures were about $5 million; last year the number was $84 million.
The Eagles vs. the Cowboys, LSU vs. A&M, TCU vs. UT (November 27)
In a former National Guard armory building, now owned by the Austin Film Society, several grown men in form-hugging futuristic outfits attempt to blast through a fake steel door with pretend lasers. “You hit everything but the goddamned door!” one of them scolds after a comrade’s shot falls wide of the mark, creating a thick white haze but no opening. They stare at the door, thwarted and befuddled.
“Tramps are overrunning the towns of Eastern Texas, and will soon overwhelm Austin.” —Weekly Democratic Statesman, December 16, 1875
During a lull in the conversation at the Dallas Petroleum Club, my lunch companion looked past me and nodded toward the corner of the room. “That’s Bunker and Herbert Hunt over there,” he said. “What sort of deals do you suppose they’re working on?” It was the early nineties and one of the first times I’d dined in the elite lunchroom of Dallas’s oil-igarchy.