Legend has it that an East Texas preacher's homemade flying machine took off in late 1902, nearly a year before Kitty Hawk. Are the history books wrong about who was first in flight—or are they right, brothers?

The U.S. Census Bureau says that Cameron Park, a Brownsville colonia, is the poorest community in America—and yet optimism thrives there. How do you explain to statisticians and demographers that poverty is a relative thing?

Why the mighty Rio Grande isn't so mighty anymore: a twisted tale of international politics, water rights, and environmental reality (with a drought thrown in for good measure).

It was a year of asinine atheists, buck-naked bad guys, crud-coated coins, duct-taped duds, ex-Enron exhibitionists, felonious Ferraris, gaffe-prone guests, hijacked heads, icky incumbents, jittery java junkies, kaput kampaigns, lascivious lawyers, Munsters maniacs, ninny newlyweds, obdurate officials, pesky perfumes, quickie-minded quadrupeds, risible reading, superannuated sodas, titillating textbooks, un-dry urbanites, vamoosed vaudevillians, wandering weapons, Xena-like Xanthippes, yammering Yankees, and zealous zit-ologists.

On November 22, 1963, I was working as a reporter for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram when I answered the phone—and got a close encounter with history.

No one took the literature of Texas or the Southwest seriously until J. Frank Dobie put it, and us, on the map.

Can the Republicans govern?

When I could no longer tolerate the religious fundamentalism of my childhood, I turned to the teachings of a Swiss psychiatrist—and rejuvenated my spiritual life.

There are rivers in Texas—some of the most beautiful places on earth—where the fly-fishing is great and you don't have to battle the crowds. Now, tell me again why I should vacation in Montana?

If you're wondering why trial lawyers were once regarded as heroes rather than pariahs, let me tell you about my friend Warren Burnett, the late, great champion of little guys and lost causes.

Drew Brees's parents don't look forward to seeing him get thrown to the ground on national TV each week. But they sure do love having an NFL quarterback for a son.

They're ready for their close-up; are we? Our writer prejudges the thousands of celebrity wannabes at Austin's American Idol tryouts.

Opal Yarborough's silence.

The director of the new Alamo movie takes on the storied battle—and the eyes of Texas are upon him.

My life as the Hummingbird Man.