Texarkana, on the Rocks

The Sabbath is coming to a close in Bowie County, and in the glow of a lavender late-summer Sunday evening, Pastor Dave Seifert, of Wake Village’s Twin Cities’ Baptist Temple, is watching his flock depart. Almost twenty years ago, Seifert came to this county in the northeast corner of the state to get away from the rest of the world. But the world’s evils have followed him here, and now they’re nipping at the heels of the faithful.

The Texanist

Q: I am an avid player of Words With Friends. Although proper nouns are not allowed, the word “Texas” is accepted but the word “Texan” is not. How can this possibly be? I think this is a travesty that should be rectified.
Darlene Thompson, League City

Roar of the Crowd

At the close of Pamela Colloff’s “The Witness,” Michelle Lyons—who during the course of a fourteen-year career, first as a reporter for the Huntsville Item and then as an employee of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, watched the executions of 278 condemned inmates—had filed a federal lawsuit against TDCJ over her demotion in 2012, a move that ultimately led to her decisio


Its hard out there for a quail. Or at least it has been for the past few years. Our bobwhites and blues have been under attack from a confluence of harmful forces that seem designed to quell quail reproduction, among them drought, pesticides, and, worst of all, diminishing habitat. And let’s not leave out the parasitic eye worm recently discovered by researchers at Texas Tech, a nematode whose disgusting habits I’ll save for a non-food-related column.

Sarrels Archery

The 750- square-foot shop behind Bob Sarrels’s Manchaca home is a bow hunter’s dream. A shoulder mount of Peaches, a 275-pound wild hog—and the star of Sarrels’s most thrilling hunting story—presides over his desk. Rows of traditional bows, handmade from exotic woods like cocobolo, pau ferro, and Osage orange, line the walls of his small office. As Clint Black’s “Killin’ Time” plays on the radio, a friend (and fellow bow maker) drops by to use the shop’s band saw.

Patently Unfair

Shawne Somerford stares across the Marshall town square in the direction of the federal courthouse. I’ve just asked her if she’s worried that Congress might put her restaurant, the Blue Frog Grill, out of business. She smiles faintly and shrugs. “Tomorrow it could all be gone,” she says.

Crooner Kat Edmonson Finally Finds Her Place

The morning that the music video for her new song “Rainy Day Woman” premiered online, Kat Edmonson had a revelation in the shower of her Brooklyn apartment.

“I was feeling so grateful for what I get to do,” said Edmonson, the 31-year-old singer-songwriter from Houston. She had just watched her video, which was directed by Robert Ascroft and was modeled after ’60s-style films like “Charade” and “Blow-Up.”


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