Cowboy Songs
Five favorites from the wide-open spaces, in words and pictures.
Five favorites from the wide-open spaces, in words and pictures.
In which a landlubber chronicles the saga of getting his sea legs aboard the good ship Elissa.
To the people of Austin, the poisoning of an ancient tree was more than a crime; it was a blasphemy.
Three cheers for Lawrence Herkimer and his leap to fame.
Reflections and recollections of life among the shadows of the Piney Woods.
Once upon a summer, children whiled away their twilight time with outdoor games like Piggy Wants a Whistle, Witch o’ Witch, and Fox Across the River.
In early 1836, after the fall of the Alamo, a small episode in Texas history revealed an aspect of our character we’d just as soon forget.
Among the harsh mountains of Chihuahua, Mennonite immigrants and Tarahumara Indians maintain their ancient ways.
They were the classic Texas Indians—fierce, majestic, and free. Today’s Comanches find their lives defined by legends and bitter truths.
It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. Had the time come to put my father in a nursing home?
What kind of dish would a Texas clubwoman invent? One that’s not too greasy, not too spicy, and, well, sort of tasteful.
Though the leaders of Mexico’s revolution all lived short and violent lives, a handful of those who rode with them have survived to a ripe old age in Texas.
A lot stronger and more hospitable than barbed wire, this is one of those good fences that make good neighbors.
From “Hook ‘em, Horns” to “Peck ‘em, Owls,” the Southwest Conference is football’s most hospitable habitat for hand jive.
You pay for interest, gas, oil, repairs, and insurance. I pay for shoe leather.
It’s this simple: people’s teeth should not chatter in the summer.
They don’t use air conditioning, they don’t drive cars, they don’t watch football—yet they dare to call themselves Texans.
Where the heck is Salado, and why are world-famous intellectuals flocking there?
Look out, Texas! If drought comes, can tons of blowing dirt be far behind?
Move over, Trivial Pursuit. Out of the way, Pictionary. Texas’ very own domino game is making a comeback at the age of 101.
It began in 1865 as a joyous celebration of emancipation. Today young black Texans find the holiday overshadowed by more immediate concerns.
She started out as a wide-eyed Waco cowgirl and ended up a New York speakeasy queen.
The assignment was the chance of a lifetime to see the whole state, once and for all. At times pure pleasure and at times a feat of will, it was always and foremost a writer’s dream come true.
Whether a frontiersman needed to skin a bear, chop wood, or fight in a due, Jim Bowie’s weapon was the tool of choice.
Descendants of famous Texans like Sam Houston and Davy Crockett don’t even try to fill their forefathers’ shoes. They just do their best to keep them polished.
The ghosts of bowl games past recall an era when cotton and the Cotton Bowl were king in Texas.
Growing up, I took the Panhandle’s plain nature for granted. Only after years away and a sentimental journey home did I take it to heart.
The blackland prairie of the old South meets the wide-open spaces of the wild West at Texas’ great geologic divide.
Autumn is the time when true school spirit blooms.
For team ropers on the All-Girl circuit, the true reward is the happiness of pursuit.
Call them what you will. We call them the living, breathing spirit of the Western woman. A working definition, you might say.
Some like it hot; those who eat the national pepper of Texas like it hotter.
Never say Kant, Socrates it to ’em, and other collected wisdom from Texas’ Friday-night philosophers.
The bishop denied until the end that he got AIDS from homosexual contact. But the furor that resulted from his death has opened the door on his life as a gay man.
There’s one place where you can still find plenty of oil in Texas: the beach.
The fond memories and hard times of a postboom oil heiress.
For centuries, scientists have searched for the answers to the mystery of Nosehenge. Now—for the first time—the startling truth.
Heads turn when he passes. He’s on half of Houston’s A-party list. Rock singer? Investment banker? Nope. Meet Father Jeffrey Walker, Episcopal priest.
A crusty, cranky, curmudgeonly species of bird is proliferating within our borders. And maybe that’s good.
Buster Welch’s success as a cutting horse trainer is based on a simple observation: when you insult a horse’s intelligence, you hurt his feelings.
In a land of contrasts, a few hours can mean the difference between drought and deluge.
The god of merrymaking spends Mardi Gras in Galveston.
Anne Bass married one of the richest men in America. With his money and her ambition she became an important cultural force in Fort Worth and New York. Life was perfect. Then her husband left her.
The secrets of love seen through a glass, clearly.
In Texas, survivors of this life-and-death operation wear their scars like medals of honor.
For eight years, I had a love affair with Houston. When the good times ended, we drifted apart. But while it lasted, we had the time of our lives.
Texas Medal of Honor winners remember the day when they were invincible.
A rhapsody of the perfection of corn chips, chili, cheese, and onions, mixed in a bag.
He was a master of tall tales and a genius at self-promotion. But was he anything more?
An enticing portfolio of what makes Houston Houston.