Although some might consider the Kilgore Rangerettes an anachronism, every summer dozens of fresh-faced teens from around the state flock to East Texas to perfect a seemingly effortless hat-brim-touching high kick—and preserve one of the state's great traditions.

The car crash that killed four teenage girls in Tatum last
September is an East Texas version of a Greek tragedy,
one that has forced the tiny town's residents to address
some of life's most agonizing questions: When the worst
things happen—when the most heartbreaking
events come into your life to stay—whom do you
blame? Whom should you blame?

Eight years ago, 42 people in the West Texas town of Roby—7 percent of the population—pooled their money, bought lottery tickets, and won $46 million. And that's when their luck ran out.

Could Ray Fernandez, the grandson of a Mexican American maid, be the rightful heir to the vast Kenedy fortune, including the family's mythic South Texas ranch?

A century after the cowboys and ranchers moved in on the local Apaches, Comanches, and Tejanos, the West Texas town is adjusting to a new breed of excitable invaders: Hollywood fashion arbiters, New York art- world youngsters, Houston superlawyers, and the like. Cappuccino, anyone?

My favorite not-so-small town.

To say that the private prison in Eden doesn't creep out
the locals is an understatement. They're downright
thankful for the place.

Why do I live where I live? To get away from the Peruvian
marching powder—and because my door was ajar.

The Panhandle town may be the first in Texas to decide
to base its economy on nature tourism. Judging by the
results, it won't be the last.

My parents and I had a generation gap. My kids and I
have a geographic gap, as I learned when I took my son
to my hometown of Cleveland.

An old-fashioned carousel, an authentic pioneer
village—and starry, starry nights.

Delicate pine-needle baskets, rustic Italian
tableware—and a $1,200 bottle of Pétrus.

Pecan-crusted trout, lamb chops with salsa verde—
and salads wearing fresh flowers.

Blues, rockabilly, classic honky-tonk—and maybe
even Jimmy Buffett.

Watercolor landscapes, pre-Columbian objects—
and a painting by Modigliani.

A West Texas road race, the Super Bowl of six-man
football—and, arguably, the world's first
rodeo.

“I like to go out at night. I like to sit in a nice room and look at beautiful women. I don't want to just sit on my back porch drinking scotch, and there isn’t much more
to do in Archer City.”